Huffer - Sunday's Child
Yep, part 7 of 7 - done =)
Title: Sunday's Child
Author: Jen "Newsy" Kerner
Characters: Huffer (plus a couple bigger bots and the odd human here and there)
Word Count: 550
Rating: G
Group/Theme: Days of the week*/Sunday
* Using the Monday's Child nursery rhyme - this chapter is based on "But the child who is born on the Sabbath Day is bonny and blithe and good and gay"
Summary: Huffer sees a different perspective on what it means to be "broken" - but does he learn anything from it?
“I can’t believe you forgot to pack a slaggin’ soldering iron,” Grapple teased Hoist. The big mechs shared a laugh at their own expense and then looked at the smaller one in their company.
“On my way,” Huffer groaned before either of them could say a word to him.
The minibot started toward the Ark still in robot mode, wanting to take his time and distract himself from his still menial role. His disciplinary period had long since ended; why were the bigger mechs still acting like he was on probation? He froze in his tracks when he saw two humans, just within his sight range, who looked familiar.
Huffer concentrated his optics and focused on the humans. One, a younger female, was in a seated position but still moving, thanks to a four-wheeled, motorized chair. Behind her walked an older female.
The faces were familiar. Huffer searched his memory banks once, a second time… and finally remembered. This was the young female from the humans’ medbay - hospital, Ratchet had called it - who had once been so still and broken. And behind her, the older female was her mother.
The younger one was awake now, and her absence from the medical facility seemed to point toward health… but this was not how Huffer was used to seeing a healthy human move. He could only come to one conclusion: some part of her, some significant part of her, remained broken. Perhaps it was, as Ratchet had tried to explain to him, hard or impossible to repair this damage.
A third human, also a female, stopped to speak to the two Huffer recognized. He focused more intently on the young one’s face, and inexplicably, she was smiling. Her body, as far as Huffer could tell, was less than fully functional, and yet she was smiling.
Huffer looked on, puzzled by the young woman’s cheer despite her circumstances, and finally picked up a bit of conversation after tuning his aural sensors. “She was born on a Sunday,” the girl’s mother said.
“But the child who is born on the Sabbath Day,” their acquaintance replied, nodding in agreement. Huffer wondered what the rest of that sentence could have been - perhaps some local proverb? - and what a Sabbath could be, but the humans seemed to accept this strange comment as an explanation.
“Hey!” Grapple shouted sharply behind Huffer. “Get your cranial case out of space!”
“Sorry,” Huffer sighed. He had been watching the little group so intently that he’d failed to recognize just how far he hadn’t gone toward the Ark.
“What’s so fascinating about those humans, probie?” Hoist asked. Huffer bristled at the repeated use of the nickname, though there was more good-natured ribbing than malice in the bigger mech’s tone.
“I just… don’t get it,” the minibot said, shaking his head in frustration. “How can she be so happy when there’s so much of her that doesn’t work?” After a long pause, he elaborated, “If nothing works, nothing matters.”
“That’s why you’re here,” Hoist said with an easy smile. “Even just running supplies. You’re here to help us take stuff that doesn’t work, and make it work.”
Huffer paused briefly to ponder Hoist’s words… then shrugged them off and, with a heavy sigh, transformed and pointed himself in the direction of the Ark.
Title: Sunday's Child
Author: Jen "Newsy" Kerner
Characters: Huffer (plus a couple bigger bots and the odd human here and there)
Word Count: 550
Rating: G
Group/Theme: Days of the week*/Sunday
* Using the Monday's Child nursery rhyme - this chapter is based on "But the child who is born on the Sabbath Day is bonny and blithe and good and gay"
Summary: Huffer sees a different perspective on what it means to be "broken" - but does he learn anything from it?
“I can’t believe you forgot to pack a slaggin’ soldering iron,” Grapple teased Hoist. The big mechs shared a laugh at their own expense and then looked at the smaller one in their company.
“On my way,” Huffer groaned before either of them could say a word to him.
The minibot started toward the Ark still in robot mode, wanting to take his time and distract himself from his still menial role. His disciplinary period had long since ended; why were the bigger mechs still acting like he was on probation? He froze in his tracks when he saw two humans, just within his sight range, who looked familiar.
Huffer concentrated his optics and focused on the humans. One, a younger female, was in a seated position but still moving, thanks to a four-wheeled, motorized chair. Behind her walked an older female.
The faces were familiar. Huffer searched his memory banks once, a second time… and finally remembered. This was the young female from the humans’ medbay - hospital, Ratchet had called it - who had once been so still and broken. And behind her, the older female was her mother.
The younger one was awake now, and her absence from the medical facility seemed to point toward health… but this was not how Huffer was used to seeing a healthy human move. He could only come to one conclusion: some part of her, some significant part of her, remained broken. Perhaps it was, as Ratchet had tried to explain to him, hard or impossible to repair this damage.
A third human, also a female, stopped to speak to the two Huffer recognized. He focused more intently on the young one’s face, and inexplicably, she was smiling. Her body, as far as Huffer could tell, was less than fully functional, and yet she was smiling.
Huffer looked on, puzzled by the young woman’s cheer despite her circumstances, and finally picked up a bit of conversation after tuning his aural sensors. “She was born on a Sunday,” the girl’s mother said.
“But the child who is born on the Sabbath Day,” their acquaintance replied, nodding in agreement. Huffer wondered what the rest of that sentence could have been - perhaps some local proverb? - and what a Sabbath could be, but the humans seemed to accept this strange comment as an explanation.
“Hey!” Grapple shouted sharply behind Huffer. “Get your cranial case out of space!”
“Sorry,” Huffer sighed. He had been watching the little group so intently that he’d failed to recognize just how far he hadn’t gone toward the Ark.
“What’s so fascinating about those humans, probie?” Hoist asked. Huffer bristled at the repeated use of the nickname, though there was more good-natured ribbing than malice in the bigger mech’s tone.
“I just… don’t get it,” the minibot said, shaking his head in frustration. “How can she be so happy when there’s so much of her that doesn’t work?” After a long pause, he elaborated, “If nothing works, nothing matters.”
“That’s why you’re here,” Hoist said with an easy smile. “Even just running supplies. You’re here to help us take stuff that doesn’t work, and make it work.”
Huffer paused briefly to ponder Hoist’s words… then shrugged them off and, with a heavy sigh, transformed and pointed himself in the direction of the Ark.