Thought about this while eating a midnight snack...
And so I'm writing it into a fic on here because why not.
Heatwave as a bittie. I talked about this before, but he was raised in the orphanage... And this is about how it went for him.
(...) left alone means a time skip!
Fic below cut!
The best orphanage of Cybertron. The staff were friendly and approachable, and the bitties adopted from there tended to become outstanding individuals.
The orphanage was filled with lively chitters and babbling. Recently forged sparklings enjoyed the doting of nurses and the warmth of their incubation pods.
A recent addition, freshly emerged from the AllSpark, had joined them a few weeks prior. His form had only solidified recently into a soft-looking red mech. Caretakers assumed he'd adopt fast, given his big, orange optics and cute little face. But, there seemed to be something wrong.
The sparkling was quiet.
It was off-putting just how quiet this youngling was. He stared, no, observed. He didn't babble, chirp, or chitter as often as the other bitties did. He hissed at nurses and caretakers, slapping at their servos or biting them uselessly. Always on high alert.
But they had to try and have him adopted. That was one thing they tried to ensure. Every bittie would be adopted into a loving home.
"Sweetspark," a nurse, struggling with the rather fussy sparkling, started. "Hold still, you need to eat... It's hard to feed you when you're thrashing."
The little red bittie kicked and struggled, biting helplessly at the nurse's digits. He squealed out, the little claws he'd developed digging into the nurse's servo.
The nurse- trying to be patient- drew his servo away. "Sweetspark, stop that, you'll make me drop you!"
Yet the bitte persisted; kicking, crying, screaming. The nurse placed him back into the incubation chamber, grumbling under his breath. He sat the bottle in with the bittie, watching him haphazardly take it and fumble to drink it himself. "What are we going to do with you..."
Truth was, he had never seen a sparkling act so independent. It bothered not just him, but the rest of the staff.
"Did you feed him?" One caretaker, a femme with soft, blue optics, chimed. She heard the struggle and wanted to make sure the bittie had been fed.
"He's feeding himself."
"What..?" The caretaker muttered, before rushing to the nurse's side, watching the little red bittie hold the bottle shakily and drink from it. Her optics widened in surprise. "I... Have never seen anything like that, Primus below... He's too early in development to be acting like this."
"That's what's worrying me," the nurse agreed. "He's got an attitude... Behavioral issues often don't develop until later in childhood-"
The caretaker brought a servo to her mouth, covering a gasp. "Sparklings with behavior problems are less likely to be adopted..."
"I know," the nurse sighed. "Maybe try swaddling him when it's feeding time. Get him used to being held and prevent him from digging his little claws in."
"Claws?"
"Yes, seems the bittie here has claws," the nurse nodded, pointing out where those little claws were dug into the bottle. "Not a common occurrence, but I've seen it plenty. He should still develop normally."
The assurance fell on deaf audials as the caretaker examined the bittie closely. Independence, claws, an attitude issue. Something was wrong, they just couldn't figure out what it was at this stage.
But the red bittie finished his Energon and sat- rather threw- the bottle aside and curled up beneath his heat lamps.
The nurse fished the bottle out and closed the incubation pod. "Well, I'll give him a few more months of development before visiting again. Remember, be patient with him. It's not his fault."
The caretaker looked anxious, but she nodded. "Of course, we'll do whatever we can for him."
...
The bittie never seemed to improve. He hated being swaddled, hissed aggressively at staff, and was rough on the toys he was given. It was noticed quickly that his developing denta were far from normal as well. They grew sharp and serrated, and began to easily tear into their servos when he bit them.
Many caretakers began to whisper, sharing worries. Families would be coming in soon for these sparklings... It's likely that the little red one wouldn't be picked if he kept this up.
Many even began to whisper about his denta, what that could possibly mean.
They hadn't even given him a name yet, other than calling him Little Red. It made them feel horrible, but how could they name a sparkling they couldn't even hold without getting scratched and bitten? It felt impossible and overwhelming... But he was only just a sparkling who needed to be doted on like the rest.
An older caretaker approached the red bittie's pod, punching in a code and watching the glass hiss back. Inside, orange optics stared up. Speculative, defensive... Angry. All curious emotions for a simple little spark. He held a gentle servo out, gently brushing the sparkling's cheek, drawing back when he was nipped at. It was a warning, not a full-fledged bite.
Curious, the caretaker thought, very curious. He'd done this since he graduated Academy, and it was very rarely he had a sparkling bite him. The others learn to bite while playing or searching for food. This one bit as warning and defense. How could a small frame fear the world around it so badly it felt the need to bite at those who wanted nothing more than to love him? It was as if he seen a lifetime of war before emerging from the AllSpark.
"Oh, Little Red... What plan does Primus have written out for you?"
The red bittie didn't respond. Not a chitter, chirp, nothing. The caretaker sighed.
"You're awful quiet, you know? Listen to the others, can't you hear them?" He pointed over to the other bitties, all chirping and playing in their incubation pods. "They are all happy, they make those sounds."
Maybe Little Red preferred to follow an example?
Peep... Peep... Chirp... Chitter...
He tried to imitate the sounds, hoping the bittie understood and would perhaps make some noise. Yet, silence persisted.
Not a sound.
No, the red bittie just flared his frame up to look more intimidating... With what little armor he'd developed so far.
That got a small laugh from the caretaker. "Yes, I suppose I deserve that. It must've been a poor impression, hm?"
The bittie's plates slowly deflated, yet he looked offended.
"It was that bad? My apologies," the caretaker huffed, amused despite his concern. Another thought occured... Perhaps he'd do better with another bittie.
Going to a nearby incubation pod, he fished out one of the most loving bitlets they had. A small, purple-colored mech with big, blue optics, who peeped and chirped happily. Once sat in with Little Red, the purple sparkling chittered excitedly, crawling over.
The red bittie tilted his head, and finally, chittered. Quiet, but present. He accepted the presence of other young better... Perhaps a nest mate mindset. Yet, the caretaker lingered close in case Little Red got too violent.
Though, his observations were fascinating. The red bittie would communicate with the purple one, but wouldn't play. Just watch the other sparkling play, like he was guarding them.
This... Makes things more complicated.
...
Adoption day came.
Many families entered, all looking forward to the sparklings they would meet and take home. Some were new pairs, others were returning. Each family had called in advance, their homes had been checked, and their records had been studied religiously to make sure they were perfect for these young.
Yet sparkling after sparkling was adopted and taken home. Their new families loving them so much, like they had forged and carried the bitlets themselves.
The purple bitlet went home with a medic bot and their mate.
Yet one incubation pod remained full. That red bitlet sat inside, watching families wander by. New faces. Faces he didn't understand. He hissed and snapped at them.
It even deterred some of the older couples, some making harsh remarks about the bitlet.
"I have never seen a sparkling act like that," one muttered to their partner. "Perhaps it's defective, hm?"
"Seems so..."
Both laughed at the cruel joke and walked on, looking for a calmer sparkling to take home.
And Little Red was left alone, huddled in the back of his pod, hissing at those who passed by. He was afraid, all flared up and wanted nothing more than to be left alone.
Why wouldn't they leave him alone?
As the rest of the families piled out with their new young, the staff spoke quietly with one another, cleaning up pods.
One caretaker froze. "Little Red is still here."
"Primus bless," another whispered, walking over. The balled up sparkling had exhausted himself into recharge, still puffed up like he was in danger.
"We'll have to keep him here until the next group comes in..."
"Let's hope he'll be adopted next time."
...
That became a common phrase. Hope meant nothing to the now youngling. He sat alone in his own separate room, reading whatever stupid datapad he'd been given. It kept him calm at least.
He tried to behave better, but some adults were so stupid they needed to know it. And he sure didn't hold his glossa now that he could talk.
But, he was alone.
And loneliness was beginning to suck.
