Part 12! Yet another check-up.
Summary: Not much progress is made other than the fact that it becomes clear to the medics that you are smarter (or older) than you appear. However, you do believe that a much needed (and wanted) conversation is about to happen.
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Drawing the problem clearly isn’t getting the point across, which means you’ll have to do even something harder. Write.
Much earlier, when you had just gotten the basics of decoding glyphs you had written a message to Chromedome in his calendar about Overlord. You left it vague but it should have been enough for alarm bells to start ringing. It’s impossible to tell if the message was received or if you had spelled things correctly since there was never any sort of acknowledgment of said message which means you have no basis for how well the glyphs are actually written. And writing glyphs is hard. It’s like decoding every word you pick out, and then re-reading it over means you have to decode it all over again. It's tedious work, but since nothing else seems to be working you’ll have to try.
Unfortunately while at the med-bay, Ratchet overlooks your screen time which he has already decided has been depleted. Unfortunate. Ratchet had already sat you down on a table to grab your disc and while the data was being collected, he had asked Ambulon to watch over you. So you don’t know why First Aid is also here.
“Why do you look so sullen?” Visor slightly scrunched and a bit dimmer than normal, it always boggles you how much emotion can be expressed despite the main features essentially being the movement of eyebrows and a glow.
Ambulon slowly pushes a small metal horse your way, almost like a peace offering. “I’m guessing it’s about screen time. They’re not allowed any screens for a couple clicks.”
You try to deepen your frown and even huff in agreement. You don’t particularly know why you do these actions, it doesn’t really help you in this situation if they do believe that you’re pouting and upset because your toy was taken away. The pity approach may work on some bot’s, but the medics will easily put their foot down when needed, and the foot will not be raised until certain that the problem is gone. Despite this logic, your pout stays strong on your faceplates and you face the wall to not look at them. Maybe a part of you is in fact upset that they took your toy away.
You scoot closer to the wall, you hear Ambulon groan and First Aid coo. This isn’t working, you need something to write with. Are there any pens that just have ink in them? You vaguely remember Rodimus getting in trouble for something akin to a kid drawing on their desk at school while at a meeting, which means that there must be a pen you can use without need for a datapad.
You look around the medbay to observe all of the drawers cabinets that could be in your reach if you were on the floor. Surely one of them has to have a pen of some kind. You crawl to as close as the edge of the table as possible before Ambulon stops you.
Ambulon vents, he doesn’t seem to really want to be a babysitter. Too bad. “You’re going to fall if you keep crawling that way.”
You get picked up and placed in the middle of the table. You wonder who's going to take care of you when your check up is done. Maybe Perceptor? He seemed like he wanted to be added to the schedule. But then again Tailgate has been practically begging the entire time the schedule has been out without him getting a single day yet, so maybe there's a wait list?
You turn to Ambulon and give him the iciest of glares that you can manage. Judging by the light giggles and grabby servos from First Aid, your glare is less than icy, but Ambulon deflates all the same. Slowly, Ambulon pushes the horse to your side once more, “I can’t just let you fall down.”
You knock over the horse and babble static before pointing to the floor. You want to be on the floor and get into the cabinets. Put the baby on the floor. The baby yearns for the floor.
First Aid huffs and takes the horse away, "I wonder if they already have a problem with screens.”
You babble static and point to the floor.
Ambulon looks to where you point before looking back at you with a confused expression, “What is it? Is it the tile?”
Maybe you should have started with writing back with Drift and Ratchet when you had the chance. Your laziness has only increased now that you've lived as a baby for a month and the consequences have started.
First Aid lights up, “Maybe not the tile, but the squares! They really like squares, Perceptor was planning on how to integrate geometry into playtime since they seem to love shapes so much!”
… On second thought maybe you don’t want to start writing. Who knows what type of mathematician tutoring they’ll put you in if they think you’re that type of a genius. Hopefully they’ll see a prophetic toddler before they start algebra.
First Aid takes your pause as a form of positive word association and looks around, “Yeah Bitty! Squares and blocks! Do you want me to get some building blocks? I’m sure Brainstorm left some the other day, he seems to be having fun making all these toys.”
Ah. so that’s how all these toys just started appearing in Habsuites. There’s a distributor on board.
First Aid quickly finds the blocks and puts a few on the table for you. They’re very similar to the blocks that you were first given when Rewind and Rung started testing you, even the sigils and glyphs are the same colours as before. Brainstorm must be simply replicating a pattern he found.
You give another big pout and begin to make your way to the edge again before you stop. There’s sigils and glyphs on the blocks. You quickly turn around and start rummaging through the blocks to find ones that you recognize.
Ambulon hums, “I guess they really do like squares. Are they organizing them?”
There’s a couple duplicates of each vowel, which is appreciated, but some of the less used consonants like ‘z’ and ‘q’ are missing. You think they are anyways. It’s a lot harder to read the glyphs without a cheat sheet to compare the letters you do know.
You point to the letter ‘H’ and First Aid hands it to you. “I think so. They’re quite organised in general from what I hear. They don’t make messes too often.”
You point and Ambulon hands you an ‘E’. Once you get it, you put it to the right of the H. Some of these glyphs look very slightly different from each other and you hope that upper and lower case letters aren’t mixed in together. “It’s odd to see them plan ahead. Do you think that means they’ll be a strategist of some kind?”
Dramatically First Aid gasps while handing you an ‘L’. You put it to the right of the E. “Don’t say it into existence! They can easily still be a medic with that logic!”
Ambulon laughs before handing you the letter ‘P’. You put it to the right of the L. “Didn’t the scans show that they had all sorts of different builds and frames that were just starting? It was about five right?”
You point to the far side of the table where a block with what you think is the letter ‘M’ is. First hums before handing it to you. You leave a liberal amount of space between the P and the M. “Six others if we exclude the medic frame. We still have no idea why they have so many that are somewhat developed. It’s very interesting.”
Ambulon grabs the “E” that you were pointing to, “I wonder what their Alt-mode will be…” He ponders for a moment while looking over the cube, “Haven’t I already given you this one?”
First Aid looks at the lineup that you’ve started and looks back up to Ambulon before looking back at the line up. “...Ambulon give them the block..”
Ambulon silently gives you the block and you place it beside the 'M'. Satisfied, you lightly pat the space in front of the lineup of blocks.
There’s silence for a few moments before Ambulon gently scoops you in his arms and tucks you under his chin, “How..uhm. How old are they supposed to be again, First Aid?”
“..Not old enough to spell.”
Ah ha! So you can spell! You smile in triumph at First Aid before babbling and mimicking drawing by closing a first and throwing circles and lines into the air.
First Aid still looks a little shocked, and you’re once again struck by how expressive a mask and visor can be. “Yeah… yeah you can spell Bitty. Good job.”
First Aid walks a bit closer before leaning to be level with you, “What exactly do you mean by, ‘Help Me’? What do you need help with?”
You babble, excitedly and loud. You should have started writing so long ago. Algebra might be worth it if you can express yourself accurately.
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He should have been checking the disc more often, these readings were impossible. The spark itself was at a normal resting rate majority of the time. The inconsistencies in the data can be overlooked as excitement or worry since almost all the readings during recharge beat regularly.
Except for the recharge right before this cycle. Ratchet notes the inconsistency down on the chart and leaves a note that your disk went off during the same cycle.
However the truly bizarre data were the mineral readings that simply shouldn’t be in a spark chamber. Hell these minerals shouldn’t even be in a cybertronian. Carbon based compounds like palmitic acid were abundant, as well as fatty acids and nitrogenous compounds. Organic material. Organic compounds that Ratchet would have otherwise rushed to take care of, but hesitates due to the new information presented to him this morning.
He charts the differences and groans. They should probably let one of the scientists as well as the captain know about the entire artifact situation.
Walking back to where he left you and Ambulon, the piles of blocks don’t surprise him but the quietness in the air as blocks are handed to you does. And also First Aid. Shouldn’t he be doing something? Who in this medbay is actually attending to the sick?
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You remembered pretty quickly after more blocks were thrusted into your peripheral that, yes, making sure Overlord doesn’t get out of his cell, or at least ensuring a better back up plan was necessary, however the fact that he was even there was also a secret for a reason. You can’t go telling everyone about the very dangerous war criminal that was brought on board without anyone’s consent. You needed to be strategic. If you were given clemency about your secret, it’s only fair that you return it.
You had been given the blocks , O, V, E, R, L before scraping the line-up and began pointing to different blocks. Why couldn’t they just give you a datapad? Or a marker?
You point to the ‘C’ block and Abmulon gives it to you, “Change your mind?”
You point to the ‘A’ block and First Aid hands it to you, “I’m okay with that, I wasn’t really liking what they were spelling out anyways.”
You hesitate before grabbing the ‘P’ block from your first sentence. Did First Aid already understand what you were writing out prior? You were barely half finished with the word but the name is infamous so it's not impossible. You point to the ‘T’ block. Ambulon silently hands it to you.
As you point to the ‘A’ block, you see Ratchet approach from the closed off section of the med-bay. You wonder what was on the disc. “I thought I told Ambulon to watch the Bitlet, what are you doing here ‘Aid?”
Spinning around both Ambulon and First Aid snap out of their quiet trances and begin talking over each other. You point to the ‘I’ block during the chaos and Ambulon hands it to you.
“The bitlet is either really extraordinarily smart or-"
“-older than we thought they were! Ratchet th-they ca-
“-they can spell! They spelled out help me, which seems like a prett-”
“-Then they started spelling out something before scraping it, and even reused letters they were given! Ratchet th-”
Taking a deep vent in Ratchet put his servos up and loudly addressed the two so that he could be heard. “Alright! Alright. I get it, Bitty can spell.”
You point to an ‘N’ block and First Aid hands it to you, “...You don’t seem that surprised by this Ratchet.”
Groaning Ratchet scratches his helm, “I was told some… sensitive information earlier today about the Bitlet’s… origins. I have a few things to update with you two, but I need to talk to a few other mechs first. I want to be right about what I say.”
You tap on Ambulon’s servo to get his attention, however whatever Ratchet is about to say seems to have hypnotized him, “Origins? You know where they’re from?”
Hesitantly Ratchet speaks slowly as if he’s mulling over each word that he says. “That part doesn't matter as much, the important bits were more about … the environment they grew up in. There were.. Well. There were experiments that I still don’t know … what the consequences were.”
First Aid spares a glance your way and you quickly tap to the word you wrote. However he, too, seems to have deemed the current conversation more important to pay attention to. “What.. What kind of experiments are we talking about Ratchet? They’re so small.”
“...I’m not fully sure. And I don’t think all the details are prsent either. But..” Walking towards you Ratchet places the black disc back on your chassis. “..if Bitty wants to, I’m sure they’ll tell us one day.”
All three bots look over to you and the word you’ve spelt. Finally.
Ambulon raises his servo to his audial, “Right! The Bitlet asked for help, I thought it might’ve been something medical but if they’re asking for the Captain then they must want to tell us something important! I’ll comm hi-”
Ratchet grabs his servo before Ambulon can do anything, “Now wait a click! Rodimus doesn’t know yet.”
The two medics whip their helms to Ratchet at the information in a silent surprise. Ambulon remains static while First Aid looks between you and Ratchet, “...You’re kidding right?”
“Unfortunately not. Drift wanted to be the one to tell him and he’s trying to find a good moment to do so.”
Ambulon throws his servos up, “Tell him to just do it then! This isn’t just some gossip this is -probably, anyways- crucial information!”
Ratchet vents before he goes to pick you up, “I agree with you. Drift’s too lenient with him.” Looking down at you Ratchet pokes your nose and smiles when you scrunch up your faceplates. “Besides, I think someone’s ready for a conversation.”
First Aid leans in to gently pinch your cheeks, “So you’re going to go tell Rodimus now?”
Ratchet swats First Aid’s servos, “No, but I’ll- don’t pinch their cheeks ‘aid they’re still too small- I’ll tell Drift that if he doesn’t tell Rodimus, I'm going to. I’m sure he just wants to make sure Rodimius doesn’t do anything rash.”
As Ratchet walks for the stroller First Aid calls out to him, “Where are you going with the bitty then?”
You sit up in the stroller even though Ratchet put you in laying down, “I’m pretty sure Rung isn’t currently booked with anyone. And if the Bitlet wants to talk, I’m sure Rung could handle whatever needs to be heard.”
Putting down the frilly hood, Ratchet smiles at you practically beaming at him, “And I'm sure the Bitlet would also like to see him.”
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Boo! Forgive me asks in the inbox, I am studying for exams. Le weep. But also heads up for next week, I will not be posting part 13 next Thursday, simply because I have four exams next week. Sad.
But continue to ask me things and speculate all you want! I may not always reply but I do really love seeing you guys work out the mystery!
Also this fic has gotten to 53K words overall, and 43K for everything I've posted. so if you've read this all you've read a novella. Crazy.
