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"C'mon, c'mon then!" Whirl said, hurrying junior along into the line outside the hangar, "It's this way!"
"Are you sure we shouldn't just ask for directions?" Whirl Jr. fretted, "I don't want to be late."
"Nah, nah, I remember the way! Trust me," Whirl Sr. assured her with a wave of his claw, looking around before shuffling off in the opposite direction with her in tow, "It's just been awhile. I only been to Earth, like, twice, ever."
"I wish they would let you come to opening ceremonies," she sighed, for the hundredth time as they turned another corner in the confusing labyrinthian spaceport, "It's just not going to feel right without you there. The other kid's mentors get to come."
"Yeah, well," Whirl started, awkwardly, clacking his claws together in an anxious, jilted rhythm, "Remember in the future that sometimes when you piss folk off, they never let that slag go, and you gotta live with what you done forever. Cuz ain't nobody ever gonna cut you a break for the rest of your life."
Whirl Jr. frowned, but didn't have a chance to respond before her father pulled her another corner and waved excitedly.
"Here we go! Earth terminal!" he announced proudly, beckoning her to the short line outside the spacebridge.
"Wow, you managed to find it after all!" she laughed, feeling giddy. She was going to Earth to be trained as a real rescue bot, something she had wanted for ages- she had worked so hard at her classes on Cybertron just to be considered, but she knew what she was, and so did the teachers- she hadn't actually expected to get in. But, perhaps, her excellent, legendary even, scores had had something to do with it.
Perhaps if she'd been a normal Cybertronian, that would have been enough- perhaps, if she had been a normal Cybertronian, her father would not have called in the only favour anyone had ever owed him, quietly, to make sure she got what she deserved. But she wasn't a normal Cybertronian, even if she was going to get to pretend so for a little while.
Whirl Sr. checked her luggage for the thousandth time as he handed each suitcase to her.
"Okay, you got your sentio Metallica supplements, you remember how often to take those, right?"
"One cube every morning, two every night," she sighed.
"And you got your blueprints here in case you need a reminder, and you got your external comm unit here just in case, and you remember you got your emergency containment unit here in case anything happens, Primus forbid, and I can-"
"Dad!" she laughed, bouncing on her pedes as she took the last bag from him, "It's okay! I've got everything. I'll be okay."
"Of course ya will!" Whirl Sr. boomed, ebullient, "But give your old man some leeway here, I'm seeing my little girl off! Forever! You're on your own for real now!"
"Dad!" she scoffed, punching him lightly in the arm, "It's not forever! I'll come back and visit!"
"Woe is me!" Whirl cried, throwing his claws dramatically in the air, "I'll never see my baby Whirlygirl again!"
"Pfft," she giggled at his theatrics, hoisting her bags back up as the mech in front of her stepped up to the spacebridge. "I'll miss you, dad."
Whirl Sr. crouched down on his knees and yanked the tinier Whirl into a tight hug, crushing her against his chest. "I'll miss you, too, Whirl."
She hugged him back before the spacebridge operator cleared his throat and she pulled away, waving and laughing giddily, shouldering her bags and running straight through the spacebridge portal.
The second she was out of sight, his shoulders sagged as if pulled down by weights, and he found it took him a moment to rise again, before the people behind them in line shouldered past him, snapping him back to reality.
Whirl stood, staring at the spacebridge blankly, before he sighed, turning away toward the door and exiting the hangar.
He picked up a bottle of nightmare fuel at a corner shop and spent the rest of the day flying across Cybertron to get to Polyhex. The sun was setting behind the manganese mountains when he landed on the shore of the rust sea, a desolate place few visited. He opened the nightmare fuel when he transformed and took a strong swig, corking the bottle again as he began meandering down the shoreline, looking for rocks to pick up and drop in his cockpit.
It was dark out, the stars twinkling down above when he had a full cockpit and sat down with a thump on the shore, taking another chug from the bottle and dumping out his rock collection between his crossed legs. He dropped the bottle into the crackled ground where it settled beside him like an old friend.
Whirl picked up a rock, and threw it into the rust sea as hard as he could. It sailed a ways before it landed in the corroded metallica and broke through, crumbling beneath where he could see into the depths of the rust wastes.
Whirl considered his options.
It had been easy to find a reason to wake up every morning when someone relied on him. It had been easy to find the strength to keep going when someone else needed him to. He found it difficult to care too much about himself, but her? She was easy to care about, as easy as flying. It came naturally.
Suddenly, though, with her gone, for real, somewhere good, somewhere better, a place she belonged, a place she had worked for so hard to get to- he wasn't sure what he was doing. It felt difficult to imagine what the point was.
He picked up another rock and lobbed it into the sea.
He had done a pretty good job, though, all things considered. Or, at least, he hoped he had. She had gotten into the school she wanted to be in so badly, and she had deserved it. She was smarter than he was, better at remembering things, more driven without any rage to back it up. He was old and bitter, with a flaky processor and a burnt out vocalizer and a patchwork frame of poorly synthesized off-world alloys that betrayed him as an old soldier, and not a particularly well liked one. There weren't many empurata heads like him around these days. He was just about the only one he knew of. It didn't earn him pity like it used to, not like he wanted it, but still.
He threw another rock.
He'd quit his job that morning. He hated working at the docks, carrying slag around- what a nightmare. He wasn't their kind of mech, one for manual labour, making the dollars just to get by. He was a killer for hire, or a killer for fun. He was what he was, what he had always been, and he was too old to change now. Maybe he could get back into the business of enforcing. Maybe that business wasn't as popular anymore. Hard to say, he hadn't been paying much attention.
He threw another rock.
He wondered how long it would take for anyone to notice he hadn't been back to his apartment that night. Would anyone? How long would it take, of him not coming back, before anyone did?
He threw another rock.
The stars cast dim light on the rust sea, making the red dust look blue beneath their tinted light, like some kind of bizarre dry water. It beckoned him in a way that made his spark ache, like nostalgia you could touch and taste.
He reached down to pick up another rock and his claw came up empty. He looked down into his lap and realized he had no more stones to throw. His shoulders sank and he looked back out at the rust.
He put a claw on the ground and groaned with effort as he pushed himself back to his feet, weary and cursing his old, cracking struts. Whirl stood in front of the vast rust wastes, shimmering in the moonlight, air above them wavy with its notorious corrosive fumes. Beautiful, but dangerous. Look, but don't touch.
He took a step forward and paused when his commline rang.
"'Sup?" he asked, casually.
"Dad!" Junior's voice tittered, filled with delight, "We just finished up with opening ceremonies and I'm sitting in my new habsuite. Mine! For me! I get my own!" She giggled, pitch high and light.
"Wow, fancy digs, huh? That just for A+ students or do all the kids get one?" he inquires, still watching the rust sea crumple beneath its weight, bow and resurge.
"Everyone!” she exclaimed, “I’ve got three classmates in my group, Wedge, Medix, and Hoist! Wedge is a bulldozer, and he’s really cool, I think, and Medix is Ratchet’s nephew! He’s gonna be a doctor and he’s really smart, and Hoist is a tow truck and he’s really nice and friendly. I think they all like me!”
“You just let me know if they like you too much then, eh? I’ll give em a good talkin’ to, ig you know what I mean.”
“Dad!” she hissed, though he could still hear the amusement in his chastising.
“Just sayin’,” he sniffed.
“Maybe I want to be flirted with,” she teased.
“Well in that case, which one of ‘em do I gotta kidnap for you, huh?”
“Dad!” she laughed, “Okay, okay, I’m just calling to say I’m settled in and that- that it went really well. I had a good day, and I’m really happy. Did you make it back home okay?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said, watching a distant stone crumble through the surface of the sea, “Traffic was a nightmare as usual, though.”
“Ugh, it’s always so bad around the spacebridge hangar,” she sighed, “I’m glad to hear that though. I was worried you’d get all mopey as soon as I was gone!”
“Don’t be silly,” he snorted at her, “I ain’t never moped in my life.”
“Listen, I just called to check in and let you know how my day went,” she sighed, sounding tired, “I’m exhausted though, so I’m gonna hit the hay here in a klik. Can I call you back tomorrow night?”
“Whirlygirl, you can call me every night if you wanna,” Whirl scoffed, “Now go get some rest, you know you get all testy when you’re tuckered, and you wanna make a good impression tomorrow. Off with ya, then!”
“Good night, Dad,” Whirl Jr. said, her smile coming through in her voice.
“Good night, Whirly,” Whirl Sr. told her, clicking off his commline. He let his arms hang at his sides, staring out at the rust sea again.
After a few minutes of silence, he turned and left, wandering into the city and entering the first bar he came upon. He ordered three drinks, punched an ex-con who didn’t want to give him a turn at the dartboard, and spent the rest of the night in jail in Polyhex.