True Leadership )-Predaking x Youngling Reader-(

Custody

     (Y/D) giggled as she crawled around with the retired Police cruiser Ratchet had given her, for once allowed to leave that far too cramped room. Instead she was in the meeting hall where Predaking was speaking with Bumblebee, Knockout, Smokescreen, and Arcee. It had started out simple, but when Smokescreen and Arcee became involved, the king grew worried. (Y/D) seemed oblivious as she played with the Cybertronian sized toy, opening and closing the doors, trunk and hood. The youngling made car sounds as the others talked, as if she wasn't paying attention. It was quite the opposite though.

         "She is doing very well cognitively," Knockout complimented, "She's at least a level ten by now, at least that's where she has the most trouble in most subjects, but she can go farther if I gave her the opportunity."

         "Then why haven't you?" Predaking questioned.

         "Predaking, she's the equivalent of a human child," Arcee noted, "We aren't going to push her into a higher learning. She'd be miserable."

         "I am not saying 'push' her into these subjects," Predaking glared at the femme, "I'm saying give her the opportunity to see what she can do."

         "That's not how a human child is raised on Earth," Bumblebee explained, "they remain in the level assigned until they can pass everything in that level."

         "Well she is not a human child, is she?" 

(Y/D) didn't like their bickering. She glared at the Police cruiser as she listened, no longer making playful sounds. 

         "He has a point," Knockout nodded, much to the beast's surprise. "(Y/D) is a Predacon youngling, not a squishy's offspring. If anything we should be seeing what she can do at this age in all subjects, as he suggested, just see how far she can go, not teach her unless we know she needs the lesson."

Said youngling nodded, crawling around again so they didn't suspect her of understanding their conversation. 

         "Then she shall remain here until her growth has completed for research purposes?" Smokescreen raised a metal brow.

Predaking prickled at the idea.

         "Absolutely not! (Y/D) belongs with her brothers." The king stomped his pede forcefully, making the walls shake in the hollow meeting hall, "She belongs with her own kind."

     Bumblebee glared at Smokescreen, who shrugged. The yellow and black mech shook his helm, covering his optics with stressed digits.

         "We would like to monitor her, yes, but we were going to seek your permission since (Y/D) is not of our kind, and has no biological parental unit to ask." He stared at nothing, optics closed, "We'd be checking on her every other day."

         "Ratchet already sees her once a month." Predaking pointed out, "your medic sees this as adequate."

         "For health and wellness purposes," Knockout pointed out, "not cognitive or research purposes. Be glad it's us doing the research and not your creator, Shockwave. He'd be doing far more than observing."

         "My creator-" he spat lividly, "is offline, and history. Do not attempt to bring his atrocities into this conversation in an attempt to sway me in my opposing your want to take (Y/D) away every other Earth day just to make some simple tests, easily done once a month!"

     The Predacon drew his trust and liking for these bots further and further away from his spark. He could not trust these humanoids, not when they so willingly suggested taking the Predacon femme away from him for something so trivial as her cognitive ability. First they accuse him of being unfit to care for her, then claim they want to treat her as a primitive human child, and now because he has explained she is far from something so beneath her, they want to treat her like an unknown creature and observe her behaviors, as Shockwave did to him all those years ago. He knew their mind games, albeit he was still learning some of them. These Cybertronians had been around much longer than he. 

         "Your bull-helmed ways are not making this any easier on either side," Arcee noted coldly, "We just want to make sure (Y/D) is learning properly and at a pace she is comfortable with. You were eager to learn more about the Predacon race and now that there's a chance to study this other half of your history, you refuse to?"

         "I believed the other half of my histories were buried bone and ash!" Predaking clarified angrily, "I did not believe Primus would bless me with a living being. She is to be treated like one, not as remains and pieces of a corpse lost eons before you pathetic humanoids were created! You ask to treat her as a subject, to place her in a white room every other day, learning with screens and scrolls, hidden from the world. She has learned all she has through stories, adventures and family. And dare I say it: mistakes. Both our own and hers. You think she has grown completely physically, and want to bring her processor up to speed. I believe you are wrong."

     The bickering grew to fighting, the only ones silent being the frustrated Bumblebee and young (Y/D). The mech had taken several steps back as the other four fought, pacing as he tried to think through the din of their quarrelling. (Y/D) had covered her audio, wishing she could close her optics. Her wings were tucked tightly into her frame, Police cruiser forgotten. She started to whimper when Bee answered a call on his comm. He tried to listen with the fighting in the background, but the voice was drowned out, so he hollered at them to shut up. It earned the three Autobot's attention, while the Predacon glared, about to say more when he felt the hesitant touch of a servo on his leg. Her frowned when he saw (Y/D) had started to leak lubricant from her optics.

     Bumblebee apologized for the sudden outburst to the human on the other end of the line, only to frown, a devastated expression crossing his faceplate. He listened further, but when the human agent heard nothing in return, they ended the call after giving their condolences. The young mech's servo fell to his side, and his knee joints buckled as he stared into space. His optics only focused when the foreign optics of (Y/D) came into view. She whimpered quietly before hugging him, and the ex-scout cried.