Just a stupid, tiny humorous (well, hopefully humorous) crackalicious cracky crack-piece to let you know I'm still alive and working busily for you all! :D Please do not judge me on this rubbish, I am well aware it's ridiculous and exaggerated and blegh.

Came about because I can't help thinking what will actually become of those hatchlings in Africa. Won't they starve and die? ;_; HAHA! as if the movieverse would ever tie off plot-lines neatly, what am I bothered for?

(I may be completely taking the rip out of Optimus' newfound psychotic nature, but shush don't tell, he'll come for me.)

Includes major DotM spoilers!

The hatchlings were left at the entrance to the base in a crate. No one knew how long they'd been there or how they got there, only that in the morning Bumblebee had tripped over it and smashed his face into the ground, almost dropping Sam in the process. The human suffered a slight graze on his hands and certainly wasn't letting his mech forget it.

'So much for protection, 'bee!' he shouted hysterically as they entered the main hangar. 'I could have died right then!'

Bumblebee clicked and whined in apology, hands outspread in dismay as Sam gestured about madly, polystyrene coffee cup in one hand.

'I was this close to either being crushed by you or having my head bashed into the ground! Splatted on the floor! Splatted, and this close! My coffee nearly spilt, 'bee! Luckily it had a lid on it or else we'd be burned!'

Upon sighting his commander conversing with Ratchet and Sideswipe nearby, Bumblebee flounced over. One of them must know who'd left the object there in such an inconvenient place. His boy had been hurt by the reckless placement, and-

Optimus flapped at an arm at him. 'Not now, Bumblebee, the adults are talking.'

The yellow mech beeped pathetically, and at the pitiful sound they turned to include him.

'Who took your face?' Prime instantly demanded of Bumblebee. 'Rather, who tried to take your face and failed miserably? It's still very much there, only grazed. Why, they didn't do very well.'

The small Autobot chirped and warbled in his electronic chatter briefly.

'You tripped over a box?' Ratchet translated. 'I thought you were agile, Bumblebee. What kind of scout are you?'

'It was hardly expected!' Sam broke into a shriek, having also charged his way to them. 'In fact, I want to sue whoever left it there! It's a liability; someone was bound to hurt themselves on its heavy, large noisy-'

'Noisy?' Ratchet enquired abruptly. 'What do you mean, noisy?'

'This junky box was!' the human shouted. 'What kind of boxes do you Cybertronian lot have? What sort of boxes squeak-'

'It cannot be Cybertronian,' the CMO replied, 'we would know of its presence. Caffeine, Sam? Hardly advisable. Give it to me, you don't need it.'

Sam ran and hid behind Bumblebee's leg defiantly, coffee held protectively.

'What was it, Bumblebee?' Sideswipe asked curiously. 'What did you fall over?'

The scout clicked and shrugged. 'I followed... my boy,' he replied disjointedly via radio. 'Didn't check.'

'Look.' Sam ordered, gesturing madly and ranting once more, waving his arms about dangerously regardless of the precariously held coffee. 'Look at that box and tell me it isn't yours. Look. Go! Don't look at me like I'm mad, go and look at the box!'

If only to save Sam's voice from becoming permanently screechy/ hoarse (or for fear that he might injure himself from over-excitement, or even possibly worrying that the coffee lid might fly off and scald him) the Autobots complied, trundling to the entrance and peeking out.

There was the offending object, looking as innocuous as a large unexpected crate could in the doorway of a militant base whilst definitely squealing from within.

Sideswipe prodded it with the tip of a sword. 'Well, it doesn't explode.'

'Well done,' Ratchet said scathingly. 'Perhaps next time you can take us all out with your carelessness.'

'It certainly is irritating,' the Corvette complained. 'All that chirping makes me want to run my blades through the crate in hopes it will cease the noise.'

'Bloodthirsty bot!' Optimus berated. 'Why, anyone can tell that a Cybertronian is in there. You can't stab them.'

'Told you!' Sam shouted. 'Wait- I said it was a Cybertronian box, not that someone was in there.'

'It is so; my scanners detect life!' Ratchet agreed, poking the top of the crate in earnest until it folded back on itself. He peered into its depths. 'Ah, this is unexpected.'

'A box of kittens?' Bumblebee cried as disturbed hatchlings swarmed about inside the large container, blinking at the sudden light. 'Who would do such a thing?'

Ratchet wrinkled his nasal plating and plucked one of the sparklings out of the crate, inspecting it. 'What on Cybertron are they doing here?'

Optimus peered into the box. 'Who brought them here, more importantly.'

Ratchet scowled suddenly during his scanning and prodded the helm of the sparkling. 'The Decepticon faction insignia? How dare they mark a hatchling-'

'Stay back!' his commander roared, sweeping Bumblebee backwards with an arm, 'they'll do something evil! I'll destroy them quickly-'

The CMO eyed him oddly. 'They are hatchlings, Optimus, they had no choice in the matter.'

'We will kill them all!' he cried excitedly, reaching over his back for an unsubspacing ion blaster-

Ratchet exasperatedly thwacked a hand back solidly into his commander's chassis. 'Prime, these are hatchlings.'

'But they are Decepticons!'

'Hatch-lings.'

Optimus watched as one, having clambered out of the crate, bit Ratchet's pede voraciously. 'Murderous brute!'

'It is hungry, Prime. It is not trying to murder me.'

'It is Pitspawn. Where did they even come from?'

'They must be your brother's legacy,' Ratchet tried soothingly in attempt to soothe his agitated leader. 'Here is all that is left of Megatron-'

'Eugh,' Optimus said, screwing up his face. 'How did he manage it? Asexual beast.'

'Prime!' the CMO howled, 'Where is your emotion? You're so unfeeling!'

'Why,' Sideswipe said, 'I think they're sort of cute despite the savage nature of their gnawing.'

'I will take their faces from them,' Optimus said with grand generosity, 'and then bequeath them to you if you like them so much.'

The Corvette thought for a moment. 'I prefer faces on a being, Prime. It ruins the cuteness otherwise.'

'Oh,' Optimus said. 'But Decepticons don't deserve faces.'

'I don't deserve to hear you rambling on about this,' Ratchet growled. 'Stop calling them Decepticons! They are children.'

'You mean like, you guys can have kids?' Sam asked, squinting up at the luminous mech.

'Dear Primus,' Ratchet swore quietly, 'I cannot have this conversation now.'

'They are children of the enemy I swore to destroy,' Prime announced grandly, 'which is in no manner a reference to the title of this fanfiction!'

'You swore to preserve and defend freedom,' Ratchet enunciated slowly and clearly, 'can you see the difference?'

The commander was sulking now, so the CMO took the opportunity to inspect more of the hatchlings.

The ever curious Sam was edging closer to the crate, watched intently by a wary Bumblebee. 'I didn't know you had kids, 'bee.'

'They're not mine!' Bumblebee refuted hastily, hands spazzing about.

'Not yours specifically! Just like, I didn't know you had little baby robots. Hang on, how do you make a little baby robot?'

'Ugh,' Prime suddenly shouted, 'you mean that I'm like, an uncle or something?'

'I don't know whose they are!' Ratchet raged, hands strangling the air (fortunately not a hatchling).

'You think they could be Megatron's,' the commander said accusingly.

'They could be any Decep-'

'Say it.'

'No-'

'Say it!' Prime roared, optic bulging near dementedly.

'It is a possibility,' Ratchet admitted grudgingly.

'This is so like him!' Optimus bellowed, striding about dramatically, 'so like Megatron to have hatchlings and then just abandon them on a whim! How careless and thoughtless does one have to be? The selfish swine!'

'You did kill him,' Ratchet pointed out. 'He probably didn't plan on dying.'

'Bet he did, just to spite me. All I did was shorten the negotiations,' Prime defended stiffly.

'The negotiations were short,' Obi-Wan Kenobi commented from Bumblebee's radio.

The medic saw fault with his commander's excuse. 'You stabbed a blade into his head.'

'Never leave a job half-done.'

Sideswipe poked a hatchling. 'It isn't really their fault that they were spawned amongst despots.' The hatchling squeakily roared and flailed a fist at him in a possible attempt to land a punch, but Sideswipe suddenly looked extremely emotional. 'I want to keep them. We can call this one Ironhide.'

Prime choked. 'It is nothing like-'

Ratchet elbowed him discreetly but cruelly. 'Shut up.'

'It's trying to hurt me,' Sideswipe said tearfully as the child repeatedly smacked his face. 'It is meant to be a warrior as noble and powerful as Ironhide.'

'Ironhide would never hurt an Autobot,' Prime pointed out- or he would have done, if Ratchet hadn't hurled a beastly large hatchling into his arms with pre-emptive skill.

'Gah!' was in fact his actual utterance.

'Be nice,' the CMO hissed. 'These are the future. Do you want more Decepticons on our hands?'

Optimus ventilated heavily before eyeing the hatchling valiantly. He could do this. It would be easy. 'Well,' he said, trying his hardest to be benevolent, 'what shall we call you, then?'

The enormous hatchling looked at him. 'Mega.'

Bumblebee peered over, another tiny Cybertronian swinging from his arm. 'Mega?'

'Does he mean Omega?' Ratchet pondered. 'Unusual.'

The hatchling was now narrowing its optics at a horrified looking Optimus. 'Megatron.'

Sam splurted his coffee all over the nearest object- unfortunately, the newly named Ironhide.

'Ironhide' flung an arm out and tried to club him, but Bumblebee launched himself between the two and defended Sam from the mighty blow.

Sideswipe jiggled the hatchling with a cheering intent, but the small Cybertronian was too busy looking miserable about the liquid dripping off him to notice. 'You're not going to rust, little mech!' he promised, voice breaking with emotion. 'You've got your whole life ahead of you-!'

Feeling immensely guilty, Sam shrugged off his jacket and offered it as a towel to dry the mess. Sideswipe sniffled at him appreciatively as he dabbed at the hatchling tenderly.

Meanwhile, Optimus was closing his optics briefly in a silent do-I-have-to-do-this manner.

Ratchet kicked him in a silent get-on-with-it manner.

Prime bravely looked once more at the hatchling. 'You are not Megatron.'

The Cybertronian child reconsidered. 'Megamegatron.'

'I can't deal with this,' Optimus declared abruptly, trying to thrust it into Ratchet's hands. Unfortunately, the sparkling was clinging onto him with unnerving strength. The commander shook his arm violently but it clung to him like a fat child clings onto cake. This, by the way, is rather damned clingy.

Eventually Prime managed to shake it off; it tumbled to the floor with an undebatable snarl whilst the mech hurried away into the base.

'Deal with them however you wish,' he cried, 'but just keep them away from me or I swear they will burn!'

Little did he know that the mega-hatchling was clinging onto his back as he walked away, the CMO noted with smugness. Clearly it was more cunning than-

'GET IT OFF ME,' Prime bellowed suddenly, clawing at himself. 'Get the vermin off me!'

Ratchet shuttered his optics wearily and tried not to think about how difficult life was going to be. It was better if he didn't think at all, or even look.

If he didn't look, he didn't see Sideswipe rolling about on the floor attempting to wrestle 'Ironhide', nor did he see Bumblebee and Sam hugging another sparkling and fruitlessly trying to wrap it in a jacket. And he certainly didn't see Optimus Prime now endeavouring to hurl his persistent hatchling over the building.

No, it was simply better if he didn't look at all.