Archive of Our Own ^beta

Ballpoint has met almost every Autobot there was to meet.

Unlike the Decepticons, the Autobots are a welcoming bunch. They gave Ballpoint tours, showed him how everything works, gave him his very own habsuite - before, he’d just recharged next to Smoothie on the counter! - and even invited him to game nights. Game nights! Finally, he was able to dazzle and amaze his new friends with his mad skills in Pictocodex!

He liked all of the new friends he met. Cliffjumper had been a little scary, but Ballpoint had charmed him quickly with a very grandiose retelling of his turn to the Autobot side. Beachcomber had let him tag along to look at some shells on the beach, and even let him help write a few notes and reports. He didn’t even get mad when it took a few tries for Ballpoint to get the spelling right. He called the mistakes “groovy accidents.”

Ballpoint sat on Jazz’s shoulders during movie nights and laughed along to his jokes. He helped Ratchet and Wheeljack by drawing up blueprints and fixing the printer. He’s got a place and a purpose.

Anyway, he knew almost all the Autobots! There was one Autobot, though, that Ballpoint had yet to really get acquainted with, despite the chorus of praise he received from all of the other Autobots.

“Hound is the best! Definitely the mech you want watching your backstrut!

“Hound’s the nicest! He makes energon goodies, like, all the time, bro.”

“I heard once that Hound ran back into a real rowdy battle just to save a turbofox kit!”

“Hound’s got a real talent for shadow puppets. It’s MAGIC, Ballpoint. MAGIC.”

Well, all that sounded grand! Ballpoint was almost questioning whether or not Hound was real. Any picture the other bots had of him was all blurry and hard to make out. Like it was doctored.

Maybe the Autobots were playing a little joke on him. A little prankeroo on ol’ Ballpoint! Well, that just meant they liked him, right? So he’d play along with believing this super cool, amazing Hound fella was real.

“Ballpoint. How would you feel about going on a mission for me?” Optimus Prime asked.

“You can count on me, Ballpoint, the pen that’s mightier than the sword, Mr. Prime, sir!” Ballpoint exclaimed proudly, saluting the (way, way) larger bot.

“I know I can. I’m going to send you some coordinates. One of my scouts is there. He’s been gone for a while and I’d like to make sure he’s okay.”

A rescue mission? How exciting! Ballpoint had never been asked to do that before! He’s always just made up stories about it!

Optimus was still talking, but Ballpoint was too busy daydreaming now. Would it be an action packed rescue, where he’d pull this wayward Autobot from the jaws of certain offlining? Or maybe they were being mind controlled by Decepticons, and Ballpoint would have to swoop in with a Prime-level speech to snap them out of it! Either way, Ballpoint felt all his circuits buzzing.

He was zipping out of the base as soon as Optimus sent the coordinates.

“Wait! Ballpoint! Don’t you want a ride?” Optimus called.

“No thanks, Optimus! I’ll run!” Ballpoint said.

Running was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad idea.

Because those coordinates were far. Out in the middle of nowhere in some desert far. No cities for a hundred miles far. Oh jeez I used up all my energon far.

Ballpoint was parched by the time he got close to the coordinates. His energon canteen was empty. He’s going to perish in a desert without even getting to save anybody.

It totally inks.

He looked at the sky. There’s some nice clouds, at least, on the day he’ll finally run out of ink. He’s had a good run. He hoped Jazz would tell Smoothie he went out nobly. Like a real Autobot. As he huffed out what would surely be his final breath, a shadow fell over him. He cracked open one optic.

“Hey, li’l buddy. Looks like you weren’t quite prepped for the hike! ‘S okay, I got extra energon on me.”

The mech standing over Ballpoint was big. But then again, all mechs were bigger than him. He’s all green with a big yellow star on one shoulder plate and an Autobot insignia on the other. He’s got a big smile on his face, but he’s totally worried. Ballpoint could tell.

So, this mech was the kind to wear his spark on his armor, huh?

The green bot pulled a canteen from his subspace and unscrewed the cap. Ballpoint squinted at the decals that covered the container. Lots of Earth wildlife. One that said “Make Goodies, Not War.” One of a shadow that looked like a mechfeline. Like Ravage.

It all felt familiar.

The canteen was held carefully to Ballpoint’s lip components, and the larger mech slowly tipped it upward, just enough for a few drops of energon to enter Ballpoint’s mouth.

Just like that, Ballpoint sprang up with a happy shout.

“I’m not going offline! Woo-hoo! Thanks…” Bullpoint looked up at the bot and motioned for his name.

“‘M Hound. Glad to help a bot in need.”

Ballpoint blinked. Then blinked again.

“You’re real?”

Hound laughed. “I guess so. Pleasure to meet you, Ballpoint.”

“Wait, wait, WAIT. How do you know me when you've never been at the base since I got there!?”

“A scout never reveals their secrets.”

Ballpoint supposed that was fair. If a scout revealed their secrets to total randos in the desert, it'd make everything fall to bits! He stood up, dusting himself off. Ugh, he had sand in his joints. Not cool or comfy.

“I guess Optimus sent you looking for me, huh?” Hound asked.

“He sure did! He was scared you’d gotten trapped! Or captured! Or that a giant bot-eating worm had made you its lunch!” Ballpoint exclaimed, servos waving around wildly.

“I like you. You like to tell stories. That’s what makes a good adventure buddy.”

Hound transformed. Ballpoint looked over his altmode. It’s a very cool Jeep, perfect for off-roading in sandy areas like this. Ballpoint didn’t even wait to be invited before trying to climb up. If Hound had to get his servo out to lift him up, Ballpoint would never tell. He got comfortable on the seat.

And then Hound took off. Ballpoint screeched as the green mech raced up a dune and hopped right over it, hitting the ground hard and not even taking a second to breathe afterwards. It took a few jumps for Ballpoint to start giggling and hollering along with Hound, his little servos clinging tightly to the seat to avoid getting thrown out.

But Hound stopped, so sudden, and Ballpoint nervously patted the seat.

“You didn’t hurt yourself, right? ‘Cause I can’t carry you back to base! I mean, I guess maybe I could drag you, but…” Ballpoint trailed off as Hound began to transform again.

Hound really was the nicest, because he was so careful to not squish Ballpoint as he returned to bot mode. He held his palm flat for Ballpoint to stand on as he pointed to one of the dunes with his other servo.

“Look at that spider! Ain’t she cute, doing her little cartwheels?” Hound asked, voice hushed.

Ballpoint nodded. That was pretty cool! He’d never seen Earth bugs do tricks! He wondered if they could be trained. Maybe they could have a circus of acrobat spiders!

“Can you do a cartwheel, Hound?” Ballpoint asked. “Because I can! I can cartwheel almost as good as that spider!”

Hound’s facial mesh flickered with pink light. “I’ve never tried. I don’t think I’d be any good.”

“Nah, I’ll show you, big mech! Come on, come on!”

Hound put Ballpoint down as requested. For a while, they cartwheeled and rolled down the dunes together, stopping every so often to look at the different critters in the sand. Hound was right. He wasn’t very good at cartwheeling. But honestly, that made Ballpoint like him more. He’s one of those bots that wasn’t afraid to look a little silly. Ballpoint, as a master and professional at being silly, highly respected that.

When the sun started to sink, Hound and Ballpoint found a nice dune to sit on and watch. The desert sky had different colors than Ballpoint was used to. Or maybe they were just more vivid. Pretty orange and yellow and red and pink, too.

Then, they watched the stars for a while. They’re way easier to see out in the middle of nowhere. Hound pointed out different constellations. Ballpoint countered by making up his own and giving them stories.

“I think you should be making all the constellations from now on.” Hound said.

Ballpoint smiled. Yeah! He should! Between him and Hound, every star in the galaxy could have a story!

It was late when they finally decided to return home. Ballpoint had fallen into recharge some time ago. Poor little mech was probably tuckered out from all the running and jumping he’d done all day, so Hound tucked him away in a tiny cloth piece on one of his seats as he drove back to base. When he arrived, Mirage greeted him.

“And so he returns! What took you so long?” Mirage asked.

“Got distracted by the desert. And by my off-roading buddy.” Hound said, smiling as he revealed Ballpoint snoring in his servo.

“Oh, good. He thought you were fake.”

“That’s alright. I think we’re real friends now. Wanna see the new shadow puppets I came up with? I do a mean cactus.”

“Yeah! I’ll go get everyone!”

Mirage hurried off to prepare for the show as Ballpoint stirred.

“Me, too, right? I can watch the puppets, too?” He asked groggily.

“‘Course. I’ll even show you how I make you as a shadow puppet.” Hound said.

“Yay!”

The teeny, tiny Autobot flopped back over and started snoring again. Hound giggled.

He sure had a funny little off-roading buddy.