"Happy Birthday, Mom"

Demona was crouching somewhere among the towers of vehicles and junk that made up her adopted mother's backyard.

She kept a watchful optic on both of her sparklings, Sundance testing her second frame as she flew high in the air, and Flashback as he looked for trouble. The oldest of her sparklings had begun to complain of outgrowing her frame, which meant that they needed to start building her third and final one. It also meant that her little femme was growing up, and although nothing in her life had compared to watching her sparkling learn and grow, it filled her scarred spark with an ache. Flashback, on the other hand, was finally growing into his first frame, on his feet and wrecking complete chaos whenever no one was looking. Odd how a sparkling that had started out so sweet and kind molded into a little monster.

Gears had often said that it was 'all his daddy's fault'. Demona often agreed.

Although they were both old enough to hold their own, and they were given strict instructions not to leave the junkyard, Demona had been almost paranoid about their safety ever since Flashback had nearly been flattened beneath a pile of cars. How he managed to escape was still a mystery to her.

Demona kept tabs on her entire family, feeling Sundance's singing joy from the wind in her feathers, listening to her son's loud thoughts of pranks he could pull on Rex that he was unknowingly broadcasting through the bonds, and soothing her sparkmate into yet another long recharge.

Her physical senses, excluding her optics which were fixed on her young, kept track of her human family. She could hear Gears laughing over some ridiculous remark Rex had just made, Pockets commenting on how moronic the whole idea was and Shark snorting. She could also see Critter...who was approaching her in his wheelchair. Demona cast him a quick glance and called to her oldest, 'Watch your brother.'

A second later, and the rose red dragon was slamming into the ground in front of him with a roar and a grin that made the younger yelp. Demona repeated herself, 'I said watch your brother, not scare him senseless.'

Then she turned down to her youngest brother, optics softening. His hand reached out to her, fingers spreading over her scarred red armor. She greeted, "Brother. How are you?"

He gave her a half-hearted smile, "Good. How's the kiddos?"

Demona looked back at her sparklings when Flashback's griping shifted to thrilled laughter. Sundance was letting him scale her armor, his little feet finding purchase on her thick plates as he literally crawled all over her. Sundance didn't seem bothered at all-in fact, the young femme was smiling widely, flexing her armor gently until he rolled back down, still laughing.

Critter watched them, too. She turned back to him, seeing the way how his vivid green optics followed the two as they abruptly stood up and ran off. There was love in them, but also something darker. Demona leaned forward, carefully wrapping her fingers around his body and lifting him out of his chair, "What's wrong, Alex?"

"Mom's going blind, isn't she?"

Her spark twisted slightly, light red optics dimming. He stared up at her face plates, red hair wild as if he'd run a hand through it several times recently. There was a certain sadness in his face, a kind that had been lingering lately, making him appear so much older. He was in his twenties now, a man. He wasn't a boy anymore, but she couldn't help but imagine the human sparkling that had weaseled his way into her spark several years ago every time she looked at him.

Primus, everyone's aging too fast.

She turned her palm up, curling her fingers around him protectively as he pushed himself up. He gripped her fingers, continuing to stare up at her, "Don't lie to me, sis."

"Yes," Demona said softly, bringing him closer to her chest.

He huffed, turning away, "God, I hate this." He twisted at the waist to look back at the shop, where the rest of the humans and Jolt were. "Moms not supposed to be blind, she's not supposed to get tired. You know? She's supposed to be strong...she's always been strong..."

"Mother is not weak," Demona said softly, "her body could be falling to pieces and she'd still find the strength to get back up and keep walking."

He blinked up at her, almost blankly, "She is falling to pieces, Demona. Slowly, but it's happening. And we can't do a damn thing about it."

The femme vented softly, shifting her gaze to the shop.

"I know you've seen it," He pushed, "how long until...?" He trailed off, unable to finish the question.

"Her body is declining," Demona answered quietly after an impossibly long moment of deep thought and spark wrenching sorrow, "I have seen it. She's gotten slower, taking to recharging longer and forgetting small things...I honestly have no idea. She could continue at this pace, or pick up at any time."

A hand pressed against the thick plates of armor over her chest. His fingers spread over thick, ugly scars that would never heal. He swallowed, "Do you think...I mean, can you do anything?"

"No," She said in a defeated voice, "I can pull the injured from destruction, hold off Megatron, defend my family from decepticons...but I can do nothing to save her from her own health."

From the way how his fingers clenched around her scars, the blemishes being wide and tall enough for him to grip, this had not been the answer he'd been expecting. As much as it hurt her though, she could and would not lie to him.

"Ratchet?" He tried again.

"You know she refuses to go back to base, for any reason."

"Then tell him to come here."

"Primus, brother." It's not that easy. Because Gears had told her only a few days ago that she wouldn't go looking for help until she knew she couldn't handle it anymore. Demona had called her, for the first time in a long time, 'foolish fragging red headed fleshling'. The woman had only grinned, patted her on the cheek and walked off. The woman was willing to fight her own weakness until the end, alone.

As much as Demona adored her adopted human mother, it drove a pike through her spark that the woman was fragging stubborn, even in matters that concerned her well being.

"I want you to teach me how to walk."

Demona's processor seemed to snap, turning almost painfully in an attempt to grasp what she had just heard. Her spark knew, though, and filled with a shock that bled through her like cold energon. She pulled him away, lifting him to her face.

He stared back, organic optics half narrowed out of stubborn will, like he was prepared to argue. But all the femme could say was, "What?"

He reached down and clenched a hand in the clothe of his pant's leg, gaze never leaving her's, "Teach me how to walk. If mom can't be strong, then I will be strong for her."

The hard edge of his eyes left, tears taking it's place. He whispered, "I will show her that there is always hope. If I can walk, then she can live."

"Alex..."

"Please help me, I can't do it without you."

She studied him, looking deep into his green eyes. Long minutes passed before she slowly lowered her hand back to the ground. He crawled down, eyes cast down in a sad show of defeat, like he thought she was rejecting him with the action. When she didn't lift her hand away, he chanced a look up.

"If anyone can give her hope," Demona said quietly, "it's you, Alex. When I had lost my mind, it was your voice that reached me first."

She turned her hand so that her palm was up, hovering close to his body, "If you could stand for me, then I know you can walk for her."

Demona watched as he blinked in surprise, before a slow, soft, relieved smile pulled across his face. He reached out with both hands, tightly gripping the warm metal of her hand, and tensed his body in preparation to haul himself up. Demona caught the whispered, "I love you, Dem," that left him.

She smiled back. "On your feet, brother."

"God!" Critter snarled as he collapsed to the ground in a tense heap of uselessness. He clenched his teeth, sore hands falling to rub at his throbbing legs. His bones literally ached beneath thin layers of muscle, muscle that wasn't meant to hold up his weight.

In fact, it seemed like his entire body was against it. His arms hurt from the stress of holding on to Demona, his back was stiff. His hips were sore. He huffed, "This is never going to work."

Demona's shadow fell over him, and while any other sane human being would have turned, looked, screamed in fear, and hauled ass out of there like the devil's hounds were on their tail, her presence brought him some sort of soul-deep comfort. A kind only she could give. His mother brought him strength. His brother gave him guidance. Demona kept him grounded.

"You walked several steps today," Demona encouraged softly, hand landing beside him. Her fingers splayed in the dirt, and he gladly leaned back against them to take pressure off his spine. He dragged a hand down his face, "What does it matter? I'll never get this, Dem. It's not going to happen."

Before he could even register what was happening, he was grasped in Demona's hand, gently, and lifted to her face. Her optics were soft, as they usually were, but held a certain kind of determination in them. She reminded, "On the day of your creation, the humans said that you would not even live. And when you did, they said that you would never stand."

He fell silent, staring back.

"Today you are not only alive, but strong. You can not only stand, but you can take steps." Her gaze gentled, "every thing worth working towards takes time to grow, brother."

"How do you know?"

"Well," Demona began, "I've been around a little longer than you have."

He huffed again, turning away to glare at the trees.

Demona had taken them to a distant, secluded forest. She'd stopped at the foot, where no humans, cars, or buildings were in sight, transformed, and carried them both into the trees until the happened upon a clearing. This was their secret spot-they came here often now, just to practice walking. They'd been working on it for months now. Gears had begun to get worse, but the change was so slow that it was almost impossible to notice for someone that wasn't watching.

"I want you to try again," Demona coaxed softly. He sent her a look and she continued, "this pain means that you're getting stronger."

"It feels like my legs will snap at any moment."

"Sometimes the only thing you can do is believe in your own strength."

"You sound just like Optimus, you know that?"

Demona smiled, "Try again."

Critter gave her a long look.

Despite all of her well worded encouragement, it still felt like his body was on fire from the inside out. He really didn't feel like trying again right now, and he tried to convey it to her through his eyes. She chuckled like she understood, turning her hand to scoop him up and set him on a soft spot among her shoulder armor. He held on, finding familiar foot holds and anchoring himself to her. Demona rose to her full height and began to walk.

They walked in comfortable silence for what felt like hours before something heavy began to press on his mind.

Demona was always so patient, almost to the point of where Critter literally wished she'd get upset or something. While she had always been careful around them, she still had her temper. She'd still snap at Rex for his stupidity or flip at Jolt for messing something up around the sparklings. But here she seemed so calm, almost like she'd had any real feeling beat out of her beforehand.

It was then that it hit him.

Critter twisted enough to look at her face, kept almost blank. He could tell that she was thinking though by her optics, seeing the motion flitting through them. He asked, "Can I ask you something...weird?"

She paused, casting him a narrow-eyed look, "What kind of weird?"

He smiled halfheartedly at that. Rex had been the cause of her reaction. After he'd found out about who she really was and became comfortable around her, most of the conversations between the two had started out with 'can I ask you something weird?' The same conversations usually ended with her roaring her engine and him running off cackling madly.

"Like personal weird," he answered. He shifted lightly to get more comfortable, and went on before she could even respond, "you seem...different now."

"How?"

"I mean, just here, when we're working on walking, like it brings back memories or something." He hesitated before taking the plunge, "it has something to do with Megatron, doesn't it?"

His big sister stopped walking.

Critter held his breath, waiting. But Demona didn't move or speak-all he could hear was the soft hum of her body. She was an eighteen foot tall statue. Suddenly, Critter hated himself for bringing it up. Dumbass, he snapped at himself, freaking moron. Of course it's going to mess with her if you bring it up!

"Is it that easy to see?" She said, so softly that he wasn't sure if she'd really said anything. He blinked, leaning forward a little so he had a better view of her face.

"What happened?" He asked, tone just as quiet.

"To put it short, I pissed him off," Demona answered. She started to walk again, "I failed in my training one day, falling early because I hadn't been able to recharge the night before. I was only in my second frame, and I was tired and weak. When I couldn't stand on my own, he saw it fit to crush my legs as punishment for my weakness."

Critter went rigid, fingers clenching around her armor. He felt his heart drop.

"No mech was allowed to see me but himself, so I had to deal with the injuries myself over night with what medical knowledge I'd picked up over the years. The end result was that my legs wouldn't function properly. He threatened to tear out my spark if I didn't stand up and fight. I hated it when he was disappointed in me-I lived for him, and the thought of rejection was enough to push myself up and stand. It took a long time to build myself back up, each day with him nearby, with his threats and insults. But I did it. For him."

"Why?"

"You can't help who you love," Demona answered softly, "my real mother was offlined the moment I was born, so I gave all that I had to him."

"How did you do it, Dem? How did you keep standing up, every freaking day, just to have him beat the crap out of you? If all he did was tear you apart and leave you to bleed, how the hell did you keep fighting?"

"I wanted to make him proud," she tilted her head to eye him, "it's amazing what younglings will do for their creators."

Which brought the conversation back to him.

She was making her way towards the edge of the forest though, like she was planning on going home now. Critter stopped her with a wave of his hand, "Again."

He caught the small smile on her face as she turned and knelt, lifting him from her shoulder like he was the most precious, fragile thing. She set him down, offering her arm. How she comfortably kept it held up at just the right height for hours at a time was a mystery to him, but it never seemed to bother her.

Critter heaved a sigh before reaching up with his hands to take hold of one of her fingers. He pulled with his arms and pushed with his feet like he'd learned to do. Half a second later, he was standing, albeit a little shakily, but still standing. He kept his hands pressed to her armor, and began to walk down from her finger to her hand, from her hand to her wrist and so forth.

He asked, voice raspy from the energy he was pouring into the act, "You never made him proud."

"He was never a real father to me," She almost snorted. She added when he reached her elbow, "mother will be proud though, very proud of you."

He grinned at her, "I hope so."

"So am I."

That was unexpected. He blinked up at her, but she said nothing else. Her optics stayed fixed on him, though, ever watchful to make sure he didn't end up hurting himself. God, thank you for my sister, he thought.

"Over here, mom," Pockets said, taking her gently by the arm to lead her to the pair of card tables that had been shoved together in the living room part of her shop. She blinked tiredly, "Why the hell are you kids dragging me out of bed? It's too late for this shit."

Pockets grinned. Rex asked, "What? You don't want to spend your birthday with your family?"

She sent him a sour look, although it was ruined by the fact that she looked so exhausted. His grin faltered briefly, wondering if maybe this had all been a bad idea. She'd been so tired lately, almost nothing could coax her out of her shop now. She spent her days in there with Demona and the sparklings, curled up on the Dodge Charger's hood or inside on the back seat with Flashback. When he was off, Pockets came down to see her. So did Jo. Rex. Shark.

They'd all begun to notice that the rich, dark red of Gears' hair, like dark fire, had lately become streaked with thick stripes of silver. Her body seemed to slump. Her limbs moved slowly. The only thing really the same was the fire in her faded green eyes that had been there for as long as he could remember. But how long would it last? He wondered the very same thing when he noticed that she tripped over something. If it hadn't been for him being so close, she would have cracked her head open on the concrete floor of the shop.

Demona hummed softly, folded down into her alternate. Jolt was pressed close beside her in the same manner, both having opted to stay in car-form to leave more room for the humans to walk around. The sparklings were running round in there, too, along with Rex's and Shark's little girl, Ashlyn.

Everyone was there, raising their voices in friendly greeting when he brought her inside. The only one absent was Critter, who had been 'missing' for a while now. None of them worried, though, since he was almost always with Demona now.

"You crazy kids shouldn't have done this," Gears muttered, though there was a brighter, happier gleam to her eyes. They all knew that she snagged any chance she had to spend with her family, adopted alien kids and all.

Pockets helped her sit down and then pushed her in while Jo started setting things out on the table. It was nothing huge, just a regular baked-potato dinner.

Gears started looking around, eyes scanning around the massive building. She finally asked, "Where's Alex?"

And right on cue, the youngest of his siblings came rolling in, seated on his wheelchair. He pulled up to a spot left void of a chair and leaned over to hug their mother. He smiled big at her, the biggest smile Pockets had seen in a while. She asked of course, but he said that she'd have to wait to find out just why he was so happy.

Dinner went on. Eventually, a couple of autobot holoforms joined them. Demona took the seat on Critter's side, Jolt putting himself right beside her. Demona reached out and took Gears' hand, holding it between her's as they spoke.

Everything went along smoothly, right up until it was time for Gears to open whatever gifts they'd brought to her. She laughed and smiled at them, looking more like the younger, stronger woman they really knew.

At the end of it, Gears stood up to give everyone a hug, reaching for Critter first who was on her right. She stopped and froze like a deer in the headlights when Critter slid back in his chair and stood up.

Her eyes were wide, locked on his stable form. He wasn't even shaking, and looked as if he'd never been crippled. He leaned forward, taller than their mother by a head now that he was twenty-two, and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. The room was full of a heavy silence as every eye focused on them, wide and unbelieving.

When Critter pulled back, their mother was bawling. He took his hands and wiped away her tears, still wearing that big, dumb smile, and said, "Happy birthday, mom."

Gears threw her arms around him, and cried into his shoulder, but there was a special smile on her face, one they hadn't seen for years.

The first installment of my little one-shot series. These have no real order in which they are written, so I'll probably post ages in the A/N at the bottom of each chapter.

In case you didn't catch it, Critter is 22 here, which means Pockets is 30, and Gears is 51. Yeah... :/ She's getting up there in years.

I've had this scene in my head for a while, since the middle of TLF. I wanted it to be a big event-a major bonding thing between Demona and Critter, as well as a symbol of hope. It's corny as hell, but guys, please don't ever forget that every dream is worth fighting for, even the small ones.

Anyway, I gotta catch up on stuff, including The Storyteller. Trying to get things back on a roll. It's been a while, so everythings kinda slow right now. I gotta find my rythm again...

Hope you enjoyed. Much love.

Demona and her family and the story belongs to me. Transformers does not.