Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, nor am I making any profit by writing this.

This is just a little side-story about hatchling!Sway.

Swaying

He never thought it would happen to him. In the streets, Drift witnessed the hardships of those younger than himself—hungry juveniles doing whatever it took to get a drop of energon or a piece of scrap metal to nourish their growing bodies. How could those rich bastards ignore those less fortunate—children, even—while they sat up in their high towers, sipping high-grade without a care in the world. No, he would never let his own hatchling suffer in such a way. In fact, the very thought made him sick.

Drift was on his knees, palms flat upon the floor's surface as he lowered his torso in a threatening position. Just a few feet away, Sway mimicked the body language, emitting lengthy growls before pushing off the floor to attack his sire's helm; claws grasping at the unique design. Drift chuckled lightly as the hatchling clung to the side of his face, chirping loudly in triumph.

"Okay, you won."

Sway squeaked as his father plucked him from his helm. His tail curled around the mech's wrist, clawed hands gripping his large hand. "Aw, look at you," he cooed, cradling the small hatchling within his arms. Sway stared wide-eyed at the mech's face, his good optic focusing on his father's handsome face. He opened his mouth to screech in response to the confusing words. Drift smiled, lifting the hatchling so that he could nuzzle him, emitting vocalizations the infant would recognize. The hatchling trilled happily, letting his glossa sneak out to lick at Drift's cheek.

"Thank you, Sway." He brought his fingers to the infant's skeletal midsection, tickling the exposed circuits there. Sway responded by kicking his back feet—much like that of a playful kitten. He began to gnaw on the black digits, sharpening his teeth on the hard metal. Drift didn't mind, though. With Sway, the swordsman felt at peace; he felt content, knowing his son would never have to live the way he once did. He finally understood what Wing was talking about.

"I wish you could have met him…" he murmured, letting his thumb stroke the small crest along Sway's helm. Lancer soon joined them, her head tilted slightly. "Meet who?" she inquired. "Oh, just a dear friend of mine who passed away… He would have loved Sway." The femme smiled to her hatchling as he turned to look at his mother from an awkward position within his sire's arms. "Who wouldn't love him? He's so adorable!" She reached for the small Cybertronian, the creature cooing as he was passed from one parent to the other.

Sway crawled onto Lancer's shoulders, curling his tail around her neck as he got comfortable. "You look… lost," she said. "Will you be okay?" Drift offered a reassuring smile. "Yeah, don't worry about me." Lancer eyed him. "Alright… I guess I'll put him down for the night." She turned to leave. Things had grown very awkward between them since the Swarm incident, and it was too strong to ignore. Drift panicked a bit and took a few steps forward to place a gentle hand upon her shoulder. The touch startled her. Sway clicked quietly against Lancer's helm, his good optic watching Drift closely. She turned to face the mech fully, her gaze remaining on his chest. "Uh, how would you like to, um… go for a drive tomorrow night? Just you and me."

A small smile formed across Lancer's lips. "That sounds like a good plan to me."

Fin.