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Description
The twinkling stars in the night sky were the only things that were keeping Sparkplug's attention, the only thing preventing him from running off like a nervous animal. His spark twinged in discomfort as he struggled to understand what had gone wrong not long too ago. He wished that he could understand these Cybertronians, but they never made any sense to him. Even with his only friend – Rodimus – supporting him as best as he possibly could, he just couldn't seem to fit in with them.

He hung his head low, his long ears falling flat against his thin neck. He could still remember what had occurred like it was just yesterday.

"Sparkplug, what are you doing?" Rodimus frowned when he saw the little Maakirrian pacing around his quarters impatiently. "You should be resting like Ratchet ordered, not be up and about."

The wingless, miniature Dragocon looked up from his brisk pacing, glaring at Rodimus with annoyance. He opened his maw to say something, but then closed it back up and looked away, avoiding eye contact with the earthborn mech. What could he say that would make him understand what was bothering him?

As though he seemed to sense that something was on his processor, Rodimus cautiously approached him. Sparkplug's claws dug into the hard floor, growling quietly that made Rodimus rethink his stance.

"Come on, Sparkplug," the young mech insisted, "it's me. You know you can talk to me if anything is bothering you. Just say what's on your mind and I'll listen."

"That's the problem, Rodimus," Sparkplug finally answered, optics squinting in discomfort and pain. "I don't know what to say." He carefully sat down on his haunches, growling softly. He took a deep breath and looked up into Rodimus' face, uncertainty swelling in his chest. He sighed, "Your friends don't even like me because I'm a Dragocon to them, making me a heidik. I've heard the whispers behind my back about how one of my larger cousins lay waste to an entire colony hundreds of years ago, and how you slew him at the Battle of Alaska."

Rodimus shook his head. "Sparkplug, you and I both know that none of it is true. You just need some time to settle in and get used to being around us. I know you're not a Dragocon by your own words. You're um, uh, a Maakirrian. There's no way in hell you're related to Harbinger. I know that, and you know that."

Sparkplug glanced back at Rodimus. "Listen to yourself! Your words aren't making things any better. You're just making them worse! No matter how many times you tell me that, it won't change their minds about me!"

"Then we can make them see that you're not like Harbinger," Rodimus shot back.

"How the põrgu am I suppose to believe you?" Sparkplug snapped. "I've tried everything to make them see that I'm not that beast, but they refuse to talk to me and they refuse to listen to reason." He stood up on wobbly paws, his breath heaving from his injured state.

"What are you doing?" Rodimus asked, optics widening in puzzlement.

"Outside for a bit," the Maakirrian snarled. "I need some fresh air and to get away from you."

"But," Rodimus whispered as he stood in between Sparkplug and the door, "you can't go while you're still injured. You need to rest."

"Screw rest!" Sparkplug hissed, baring his fangs at the young Prime and growled a warning. "I'm done with listening to you! Leave me alone and let me through, unless you want me to bite your leg off."

Unsure on whether or not Sparkplug meant good on his threat, Rodimus sighed and stepped aside to let him pass. Satisfied, Sparkplug shoved past him and headed out the door and towards the entrance where he knew no one would bother him. He never met anyone on the way, but he was grateful about not being disturbed.

A single tear rolled down the little Dragocon's right cheek. He was never going to fit in with these Cybertronians, especially when they treated him like he was an enemy and that he may eventually turn on them soon. He understood their fears, but... His shoulders started trembling and he bowed his head lower, his muzzle touching the top of his chest.

He just felt so alone in this world where he couldn't leave the base, all because they either believed he was a danger to these humans and that there were possible dangers out there. He didn't know what to do about this problem, and he just wished that he could disappear into a cloud of vapour and never emerge again.

Who was he kidding? He was a heidik and that was all he ever will be.

Sparkplug stood up slowly on painful legs, his gaze returning to the stars that continued to twinkle brightly in the cool evening sky. He prepared to make the ultimate step away from the base...

"Sparkplug, wait."

He stopped dead in his tracks at the familiar voice, and he inclined his head to see Rodimus making his way towards him. His tired body stiffened a little, but he remained where he was, growling softly enough for the mech to stop where he was. "What do you want? I told you I want to be left alone."

"You want to be alone so that you can leave?" Rodimus smiled faintly.

When Sparkplug didn't answer, Rodimus took a step closer. His optics then shifted to the stars above for a moment, a faraway look in them. Sparkplug huffed impatiently in an attempt to make him go away, but Rodimus didn't seem to notice at all. If he did, he was ignoring him completely.

Finally, Rodimus spoke, "I've often wondered what it's like to be up there between the stars."

Sparkplug's optics widened. Rodimus had never been into outer space before? His surprise was replaced by a scowl of annoyance. "What's your point, Cybertronian?"

The young mech's gaze tore away from the sky and rested upon Sparkplug, a hint of sadness in them. "I was born here on Earth by the hands of the All Spark," he went on quietly. "A human saved my life and I saved hers. But our friendship didn't last long. In the end... she succumbed to sickness and I was alone for five and a half years of my life. Then I met them." He looked back over at the base, a smile forming on his lips. "If it weren't for them, I would have died. And if it hadn't been for me stepping up to the task of leading them, they would have been leaderless."

"You're earthborn?" Sparkplug questioned.

Rodimus nodded, shrugging his shoulders. "Yes, but the Autobots call me an 'earthspark' or something like that. Don't know what it means, but I'll go by that term if they want." He began taking more steps forward, and Sparkplug never uttered a word as he came closer until he was right beside him.

"You know," he went on, "these guys saved my life and I've made several good friends here. I have a father who is teaching me everything he can about leading, and I have two uncles that treat me like garbage, but that is only because they don't show it. I even have two charges that never let me out of their sight, and if I'm right, they're both watching me or one of them is just so that I don't get into trouble." He chuckled at the thought fondly. "And then there's Arcee... she's... my best friend. We've been friends ever since she arrived here on Earth and she's... amazing at what she does."

Sparkplug lifted an optic ridge, sitting on his haunches. "You have... quite a family," he whispered.

"Tell me about it," Rodimus laughed, crossing his legs and sitting down beside him. Then he frowned as he spoke in a serious tone. "Sparkplug, I meant what I said earlier: you're not like Harbinger, and you never will be. The truth is that Harbinger had been through... a lot in the past that resulted in him changing into something he didn't want to be. In the end, all he wanted was for death to take him away into the Well of All Sparks where he would really be judged by Primus."

He slowly lifted a hand and rested it on Sparkplug's back.

"I also know that you're not an enemy, Sparkplug. I'm going to do everything in my power to see that no one will think of you as like that beast. This I promise you."

For the first time since his arrival on this planet, Sparkplug felt the discomfort inside leave his spark. He felt like he had a reason to hope. "Thank you... Rodimus Prime," he smiled.

Description
The twinkling stars in the night sky were the only things that were keeping Sparkplug's attention, the only thing preventing him from running off like a nervous animal. His spark twinged in discomfort as he struggled to understand what had gone wrong not long too ago. He wished that he could understand these Cybertronians, but they never made any sense to him. Even with his only friend – Rodimus – supporting him as best as he possibly could, he just couldn't seem to fit in with them.

He hung his head low, his long ears falling flat against his thin neck. He could still remember what had occurred like it was just yesterday.

"Sparkplug, what are you doing?" Rodimus frowned when he saw the little Maakirrian pacing around his quarters impatiently. "You should be resting like Ratchet ordered, not be up and about."

The wingless, miniature Dragocon looked up from his brisk pacing, glaring at Rodimus with annoyance. He opened his maw to say something, but then closed it back up and looked away, avoiding eye contact with the earthborn mech. What could he say that would make him understand what was bothering him?

As though he seemed to sense that something was on his processor, Rodimus cautiously approached him. Sparkplug's claws dug into the hard floor, growling quietly that made Rodimus rethink his stance.

"Come on, Sparkplug," the young mech insisted, "it's me. You know you can talk to me if anything is bothering you. Just say what's on your mind and I'll listen."

"That's the problem, Rodimus," Sparkplug finally answered, optics squinting in discomfort and pain. "I don't know what to say." He carefully sat down on his haunches, growling softly. He took a deep breath and looked up into Rodimus' face, uncertainty swelling in his chest. He sighed, "Your friends don't even like me because I'm a Dragocon to them, making me a heidik. I've heard the whispers behind my back about how one of my larger cousins lay waste to an entire colony hundreds of years ago, and how you slew him at the Battle of Alaska."

Rodimus shook his head. "Sparkplug, you and I both know that none of it is true. You just need some time to settle in and get used to being around us. I know you're not a Dragocon by your own words. You're um, uh, a Maakirrian. There's no way in hell you're related to Harbinger. I know that, and you know that."

Sparkplug glanced back at Rodimus. "Listen to yourself! Your words aren't making things any better. You're just making them worse! No matter how many times you tell me that, it won't change their minds about me!"

"Then we can make them see that you're not like Harbinger," Rodimus shot back.

"How the põrgu am I suppose to believe you?" Sparkplug snapped. "I've tried everything to make them see that I'm not that beast, but they refuse to talk to me and they refuse to listen to reason." He stood up on wobbly paws, his breath heaving from his injured state.

"What are you doing?" Rodimus asked, optics widening in puzzlement.

"Outside for a bit," the Maakirrian snarled. "I need some fresh air and to get away from you."

"But," Rodimus whispered as he stood in between Sparkplug and the door, "you can't go while you're still injured. You need to rest."

"Screw rest!" Sparkplug hissed, baring his fangs at the young Prime and growled a warning. "I'm done with listening to you! Leave me alone and let me through, unless you want me to bite your leg off."

Unsure on whether or not Sparkplug meant good on his threat, Rodimus sighed and stepped aside to let him pass. Satisfied, Sparkplug shoved past him and headed out the door and towards the entrance where he knew no one would bother him. He never met anyone on the way, but he was grateful about not being disturbed.

A single tear rolled down the little Dragocon's right cheek. He was never going to fit in with these Cybertronians, especially when they treated him like he was an enemy and that he may eventually turn on them soon. He understood their fears, but... His shoulders started trembling and he bowed his head lower, his muzzle touching the top of his chest.

He just felt so alone in this world where he couldn't leave the base, all because they either believed he was a danger to these humans and that there were possible dangers out there. He didn't know what to do about this problem, and he just wished that he could disappear into a cloud of vapour and never emerge again.

Who was he kidding? He was a heidik and that was all he ever will be.

Sparkplug stood up slowly on painful legs, his gaze returning to the stars that continued to twinkle brightly in the cool evening sky. He prepared to make the ultimate step away from the base...

"Sparkplug, wait."

He stopped dead in his tracks at the familiar voice, and he inclined his head to see Rodimus making his way towards him. His tired body stiffened a little, but he remained where he was, growling softly enough for the mech to stop where he was. "What do you want? I told you I want to be left alone."

"You want to be alone so that you can leave?" Rodimus smiled faintly.

When Sparkplug didn't answer, Rodimus took a step closer. His optics then shifted to the stars above for a moment, a faraway look in them. Sparkplug huffed impatiently in an attempt to make him go away, but Rodimus didn't seem to notice at all. If he did, he was ignoring him completely.

Finally, Rodimus spoke, "I've often wondered what it's like to be up there between the stars."

Sparkplug's optics widened. Rodimus had never been into outer space before? His surprise was replaced by a scowl of annoyance. "What's your point, Cybertronian?"

The young mech's gaze tore away from the sky and rested upon Sparkplug, a hint of sadness in them. "I was born here on Earth by the hands of the All Spark," he went on quietly. "A human saved my life and I saved hers. But our friendship didn't last long. In the end... she succumbed to sickness and I was alone for five and a half years of my life. Then I met them." He looked back over at the base, a smile forming on his lips. "If it weren't for them, I would have died. And if it hadn't been for me stepping up to the task of leading them, they would have been leaderless."

"You're earthborn?" Sparkplug questioned.

Rodimus nodded, shrugging his shoulders. "Yes, but the Autobots call me an 'earthspark' or something like that. Don't know what it means, but I'll go by that term if they want." He began taking more steps forward, and Sparkplug never uttered a word as he came closer until he was right beside him.

"You know," he went on, "these guys saved my life and I've made several good friends here. I have a father who is teaching me everything he can about leading, and I have two uncles that treat me like garbage, but that is only because they don't show it. I even have two charges that never let me out of their sight, and if I'm right, they're both watching me or one of them is just so that I don't get into trouble." He chuckled at the thought fondly. "And then there's Arcee... she's... my best friend. We've been friends ever since she arrived here on Earth and she's... amazing at what she does."

Sparkplug lifted an optic ridge, sitting on his haunches. "You have... quite a family," he whispered.

"Tell me about it," Rodimus laughed, crossing his legs and sitting down beside him. Then he frowned as he spoke in a serious tone. "Sparkplug, I meant what I said earlier: you're not like Harbinger, and you never will be. The truth is that Harbinger had been through... a lot in the past that resulted in him changing into something he didn't want to be. In the end, all he wanted was for death to take him away into the Well of All Sparks where he would really be judged by Primus."

He slowly lifted a hand and rested it on Sparkplug's back.

"I also know that you're not an enemy, Sparkplug. I'm going to do everything in my power to see that no one will think of you as like that beast. This I promise you."

For the first time since his arrival on this planet, Sparkplug felt the discomfort inside leave his spark. He felt like he had a reason to hope. "Thank you... Rodimus Prime," he smiled.