The Price of a Glitch: Russel, being young, makes a simple assumption based on the prisoners he has seen. "Fixit, I mean looking at all the pods and everything, I was wondering … if maybe … all minicons are bad?" Fixit struggles for an answer, guilt and a glitch ticking away in the back of his CPU. Memories can't help but surface, but is he ready to face them? RID15.

Disclaimer: If only, if only, the plot bunny sings.

Image: Fixit and Russel by JackSpicerChase

Rating: Teen.

…

I offer my eyes, youthful and bright.

They know not your prejudices or your plight.

Thus with my youthful ignorance I give a brief gift,

A moment of closure in your heart's deep rifts.

…

Russel sat there, frowning as he watched Drift call his minicons back to him, the two small bots transforming and settling into place. He liked the two little bots. They were player-friendly. If Drift left them out of his sight for more than a moment that is. He was sometimes a hard-aft.

Not that he would ever tell Bee that he picked that word up.

He understood, to a part, why the mech was hard on them. Something about honor of a warrior or something, but there seemed to be something more to it than that. It had only been mentioned slightly in passing, but he had caught on regardless. Apparently, the two minicons needed to earn their forgiveness. For what, Russel could only guess, but it seemed criminal in nature.

Yet, as more and more minicons started to adorn the corners of the junkyard, frozen like statues behind glass, a thought crept into the young human's mind. Were all minicons malevolent in nature? Fixit did have more than enough weaponry hidden on his person to take out a military base and generally mechs didn't have weapons for nothing.

And what of all the beast-formers? Were they the same? Grimlock seemed to have an alacrity towards violence.

Russel knew that he shouldn't jump to conclusions so easily, he didn't know much about Cybertron, but he hadn't seen one vehicle-former like Bee or the others adorn those pods. Personally, right now he had a feeling that model-type was what led to many of those mechs incarceration and if that was so...

Did Decepticons have a reason for being inherently evil?

Giving Bee a look over his shoulder as the Autobot headed out for patrol, the human ran up to the Alchemor's control deck. He wanted for this just to be between Fixit and him. Bee was great, but there were whispers about him being active in the war. He didn't want the mech to interfere with his ingrained prejudices. So, a second later, the human was stalling before the orange bot panting from the uphill run.

Fixit, as usual, was busy typing away at one thing or another, giving the young human an affable nod before stating, "Hello, Russel. How has your morning been?"

Russel smiled at the warm greeting. That was one thing he really liked about Fixit. He always seemed kind, but as time dragged on he felt that some of the rest of the Autobots didn't reciprocate the sentiment. It was like they were taking advantage of Fixit sometimes. Yeah, he was kind of glitched and maybe a little bit of a coward, but the others' treatment was really becoming noticeable. Did they do it because minicons were instinctively criminal? Was there a reason Fixit had been left alone with his many prisoners? Was his solitude a punishment to rectify his failings like it was with Slipstream and Jetfire?

Swallowing his misgivings, he wrangled his hands together and asked in almost a meek manner, "Hey Fixit, can I ask you something?"

Fixit, catching onto the boy's downtrodden tone, immediately stalled in his work and turned fully to his human friend. "Sure, Russel. Is something wrong?"

Smiling,the minicon's glitch seeming absent this morning, he rubbed his head and asked softly, "Well, I just wanted to ask you a question about … well, minicons and stuff?"

Optics shuttering in confusion for a moment, the little bot nodded, "Of course, I don't mind."

Frowning, kicking the floor with his shoes, feeling immoral for even asking something so hurtful of Fixit, the human's curiosity won out. "Fixit, I mean looking at all the pods and everything, I was wondering … if maybe … all minicons are bad?"

Fixit's vents stalled and stuttered in surprise before his CPU seemed to catch up with him. He knew that Russel was little more than a newspark, especially by Cybertronain standards, but for such a misconception to even take root in that young mind … he felt somewhat responsible. Had he said something wrong?

"Russel, Russel. No. That's not plight-might-RIGHT!" he stuttered, trying not to glitch out. "Why would you even think that? Was it something I said? I-I haven't been cruel to you unknowingly somehow, have I? Is it a human thing? Denny promised to tell me about cultural taboos. Did I miss one?"

Blinking, shaking his head, the human rushed to say, "No, no, no! You didn't do anything wrong. I just … its just …"

Russel waved his hand towards the multitude of stasis units.

Oh. Ohhhh.

Realization hit Fixit like a brick wall.

"Why are so many minicons on the Alchemor? And not just that, even Slipstream and Jetfire were once criminals. Also, I mean, the other Autobots don't seem to treat you right … like you did something wrong as well. Like, being the warden all alone was a punishment," blurted out the human. He knew he was missing something, somewhere, but that was why he was asking after all.

Servos coming together, Fixit immediately looked away. What Russel had said was, for the most part, true. Every last bit of it was pretty much true, especially now that he thought about it. Even the part about Team Bee not treating him right, but he was too afraid to say anything. He was too afraid he would be considered irrelevant, trash.

He didn't want to be thrown away … not again.

Russel immediately felt bad as the mech drew away, especially when Fixit reversed slightly and turned his back to him.

"I-I'm sorry," said the human, trying to placate Fixit. "I take it all back. I didn't mean to say any of that."

"No ...," said Fixit softly, his voice barely a timid whisper. "Its … true, Russel. You don't have to take it back,"

Russel, nearly tripping over his own shoes, stalled, his hand just above touching the minicon's armor. "What?"

Shoulder plates sagging, Fixit looked up and Russel, voice still soft yet penetrating in the silence of the junkyard. "Minicons, animalformers, warbuilds … a lot of them, us, went bad at the end of the golden age. Not because we were inherently evil or anything, but I suppose we fell out of favor. We fell into the obsolete mass-crash-class. We were either outdated, glitched, a sympathizer, too vocal about classes or our skills were minuscule in comparison to our fuel intake. There were other things too, but as for the minicons … everyone still believed that minicon sparks originate from Unicron. That we are fake sparks … that we are merely tools. Drones if you will."

The bitterness in Fixit's tone just seemed … wrong.

And so there was another moment of silence, the minicon unable to look at Russel's growing expression of horror. He could not stop though. There was this knot, a stone, in the bottom of his spark chamber weighing him down. A lot of his memories were frayed nowadays, but he recalled being assigned, barely, to the Alchemor. He had just been glad to have a place to work and fuel at first. After all, he had a glitch and he was also a minicon. If they noticed he had a glitch, they didn't care. And Fixit hadn't thought much of it, at first. He was just glad to be saved from the smelting pools. He had a place. He had a place.

'This is your PLace, gliTcheD.'

Fixit shook his helm as he tried to disperse the strange staticy image. It was something he had … forgotten.

N-never mind that. So he now recalled they had thrust him into the dead of space, alone with barely any weapons, two hundred able-body Cons his cargo. He had survived, even if the Decepticon Hunters weren't even in the same room as him! Honestly, it was like he had been set up to fail.

'I am alOne. I aM all Alone. At least there aRE the podS. At leAst They wEre therE to taLk to in the darkNess and Quiet. AT lEast therE's someBOt to talk to.'

But why was he alone? Had he always been alone? Nonetheless, it was like they always intended for him to crash. It was as if they expected him to glitch out and crash into a star.

Maybe they had?

It had not been said to his face plates, but Fixit always knew … he was expendable. And so that little stone in the bottom of his spark grew with bitterness and hate. He-he had to get out of there. He had to -

'EscaPe. HE … nO, They Had to escApe! hE had TO retUrn.'

Struggling to form words, his hands on his helm as he spit static and struggled with the new memory, Fixit tried to continue. He tried to press pass his glitch, the layered whispers in his helm. This had to be said, the words flowing out like a long kept confession, "F-for the most part, it was either s-starve or join the Decepticonnnnszzz, because they were the only ones that wanted you."

Russel, watching Fixit slowly decay mentally, his glitch acting up worse than he had ever seen it, choked, "Glitches? Class? Energy consumption? I … I'm not an A+ history student Fixit, but that doesn't sound like anyone's fault. It just sounds … corrupt and prejudice. Does that … does that mean the Cons aren't bad?"

Pressing down his fear of the Functionalists, the high casts and the class system, Fixit struggled with his programming, errors popping up in his HUD. Frag. He needed to calm down. He needed to calm down before he glitched. He had to stay useful … Or the Autobots were going to throw him away.

He always got tossed to the side, but the words were drowning his glossa and no one else was here.

He could say what he would.

Each word came out like broken static and yet Flixit admitted, "E-each mech in those pods made their cccc-choice. T-the A-a-a-a-Alchemor w-was from early on in the wwwwwwwar, so t-t-they aren't as b-bad as M-mmmmegatron or-or his generalssszz, but they … they … they … they … made their choice."

'yoU're ExpeNdaBle.'

Russel, now wondering if he should start calling for his dad, swallowed, his words soft, "So … the Autobots were at fault?"

The minicon, his glitch threatening to seize up his entire CPU, managed to choke out the words, " The Autobot Council … made their choices as well. They made the Decepticons. They made their own monsters."

His next words came out almost biting, a hate he didn't know he had, "And they deserved it."

'YOur diRecTive is SImpLe, warDEn. You doN't come bAck.'

"F-fixit? Dad! Dad! Something's wrong with Fixit! DAD!"

Fixit offlined and onlined his optics.

How had he gotten on the floor? And was that Russel shaking him? Why was his facial plate registering something wet … were those tears? Russel was crying over him, saying something. Huh, he always thought they would be harsh like salt water, tears that is, but they were soft and oh so warm. Like wet little clouds.

'I … i can't Do tHat. I Don'T haVe to answer to yOU.'

"Russel? What happened?" came an older voice, a large form now blurring into his vision, his neck strut quickly supported.

Was that Denny? Why was he petting his helm? That wouldn't help, not with his glitch, but it was so ...kind. So warm. Humans were so warm. Never hot, just warm. Like perfectly warmed oil.

"Hey, hey, Fixit. Come around, buddy. Come on. Come back around," said Denny softly.

'SyMpaThIzer. symPathiZer!'

"There you go. Come on, buddy. That's it. Focus on me," finally came a voice through the collection of memories and thoughts, and basically the jumbled mess that was Fixit's CPU. Coming back to himself, he noticed that Denny was awkwardly holding him, Russel knelt next to him as tears streamed down his face.

"Is he okay now, dad? I-I'm sorry. I thought it was a simple question. I didn't mean to break Fixit. I'm sorry," choked the youth, nearly sobbing.

"Its okay, Russel. You didn't break him. He's fine, right? Everything's okay now, right Fixit?" said Denny, giving a forced smile to the small mech.

'hAhA … WhAt hAve you done? Are YoU sure yoU are weaRIng the RIGht badge, liTtle WarDen?'

Fixit … tried to get his vocalizer to listen to him. He tried to tell it to say all was fine and well. Perhaps, he could still hide his hurt and discontent. Perhaps he could pretend he hadn't confessed such things to a human, a youngling that probably didn't understand.

Words refused to form though. Instead, a staticy sob escaped his vocalizer … And then another and another sob followed after, coolant dribbling from his optics.

Denny, finally recognizing that this wasn't some kind of glitch, but a breakdown, pulled the minicon into a loose hug, surprisingly unhindered by his weight. His words were even warmer as he patted the minicon's back, "Oh, Fixit. Shh, shh. It's okay. Just get it all out. Its okay. You are safe here … with us."

That only made the orange mech weep harder, vocalizer shorting out from time to time, but he did manage to whisper, "B-but I'm junkkkkk. Tss-zzzz. N-no one w-wants a brokennn mini-mini-minicon."

Smiling for real this time, Denny warmly said, "No you are not. You are not junk … even if no one else wants you. We do, don't we Russel?"

Russel, wiping tears messily away with his palms, nodded before wiping his nose with his sleeve.

Denny merely continued, "Besides … you can always stay here with us. You are welcome to our family, Fixit."

At that, the stone in his spark seemed to heavy, so heavy it cracked the glass encircling his life force. The next thing Fixit knew he was crying harder. The dam had been broken. All his responsibilities and forced cheery programming couldn't withstand the force of its sorrow. He started to weep. It was whole-spark weeping, staticy sobbing escaped his vocalizer as coolant started to drip down his face plates even faster from his optics.

But that was okay.

Everything was okay though because here, surrounded by junk and two short-lived organics, he was welcome. He was wanted. Glitched or not.

XXX

Paw07: You know, it really bothered me at first when I started watching RID15. Yes, I know it's a kids show and my expectations of political undertones shouldn't be so high, but with every episode I couldn't help but form a head cannon. I mean, come on, really? Why are most of the cons animal-formers? The only one that isn't is Fracture and that's because he was never on the ship to begin with. Also, a lot of them seem guilty of lesser crimes. In other words, not war crimes like the Cons towards the end of the war. So, I can only deduct that these prisoners were all from early on in the war, when the council's prejudices were still high. In other words, way before Cybertron was abandoned. I mean, look at Grimlock. Plus, long time stasis might explain alot of the ... well ... crazy. .

Also, what is with all the minicons? Even Slipstream and Jetfire admitted to being involved in crime.

Plus, the Team Bee, even though I don't believe its on purpose, really don't treat Fixit that well. Poor guy.

Furthermore, since they never go into great detail about what started the war in RID15, I've formed a head cannon for that as well. Obviously, there were energon shortages and some mix of Functionalists. Plus, I threw a dash of Armada-lore in there about the mini-cons rumored to be Unicrons creations.

Regardless, I rather like the vagueness of how the Alchemor crashed. So, I asked myself, what if it wasn't on purpose? Had the accident really been one? Why was the little warden seemingly alone? What if there was a reason his weapons were offline and it wasn't just the accident? Why was he in the middle of the forest repeatedly saying, 'Escape?' What if he didn't even know what he was? So many what ifs not answered in the episodes. Lanny-Sama and me had a fun discussion about it though. Thus this occurred. I will be adding a second chapter to get a little more into that, but enjoy this angsty-fluff what-if.