Mein Schönheit Zeichen {TFA Blitzwing x Reader}

Chapter 25

"(Y/n)! (Y/n)!"

Your eyes snapped open and your body surged forward.

Your body burned, coolant sweat formed on your palms, brow, and back. Your vision was fuzzy, your eyes wide in attempts to see properly. Static fizzled in your audio receptors, words came slowly.

"Look look! (He/She)'s waking up!" A girl's voice called out.

Several voices began to overlap, they blended with the static.

(Y/n), I senze somezing iz wrong. Vhat is ze matter?

Blitzwing's soothing voice was the only one you heard from the madness.

You say up slowly, your muscled clenched in sore pain.

Fuck that hurts.

You sluggishly pushed yourself off of the medical berth. Gritting as your body painfully expressed that it wanted nothing to do with standing up.

You were startled slightly as hand wrapped around your waist, hoisting you to your feet properly.

Turning you head you were met with a soft smile from Blitzwing. The images from your unconscious state flashed to the front of your mind. Suddenly you grew awkward and anxious, words from your grandmother began to make more and more sense.

How had you not thought of them before?

When did you begin to dismiss her past words like the rest of your family?

Small spikes of guilt and shame prodded at your mind.

You felt confusion and reassurance in your chest. Feelings that were not your own but were oh so comforting.

However the clamoring voiced pounded on the walls of your head distorted you.

"Will you all be quiet!" Ratchet barked in anger.

The whole room grew quiet.

"Thanks Ratchet."

"No problem (Y/n)." Ratchet said.

The pounding in your head never ceased, now, questions banged around in your processor. They flooded your thoughts. All you could do is stare at the ground with wide questioning eyes. Flashbacks nearly blinded you as your grandmother's voice crawled to the front of your mind.

Your grandfather was one of the best pilots! Why the only ones better than him were two of our friends.

You needed to ask you mother a typhoon of questions. Then again, you doubted she would deliver serious answers. Asking your uncle was out of the question, Primus knows where he is.

The only person left to ask was Blitzwing.

"Hey Blitzwing, can you . . . tell me about some of your old friends? Their names, personalities?" Your voiced quivered slightly.

He was taken back by your odd request. A puzzling look crossed his features.

"Alright, everybot out." Ratchet ordered.

The older mech was able to shoo everyone out of the room.

Blitzwing nodded a silent thanks at the field medic. He waited until he was certain no one was Eve's dropping, which felt like a half an hour wait.

"(Y/n), vhy do jou vish to know of my past?" His voice sounded solemn.

You locked eyes.

"Did you ever know any bots by the names of Arial and Bronze?" Your voice trickled slowly into the room.

He visibly tensed, his eye widened slightly.

He considered his options. The past neutrals were considered traitors for their actions. Instead of being persecuted the couple left off world. To where? Even Blitzwing didn't know.

"Jes. Zhey vere cloze friendz of mine before ze var." He answered slowly.

"And?"

"Vhy do jou vish to know?" Suspicion flowed from him lips like water from the Niagara Falls.

"Their children, I know them."

"Jou do?! How? Vhere are zey?" He gripped your shoulders as he raced out his questions.

"I only know where one of them is-"

"(Y/n), vhere."

Might as well say if, it's gotta come out sooner or later. And what better time than the present?

"Their daughter is my mom."

You mentally cursed yourself for blurting it out like an idiot. But honestly, how else do you say something like that?

"Vhat?"

It was more of a statement then a question. Nevertheless, it still required an answer.

"Bronze is my grand-carrier."

Hopefully, using some Cybertronian lingo will help him understand.

His monocle-like eye twisted, focusing greatly.

"Blitzwing, what are you-"

"Ziz doesn't make any zenze, jou look nozing like Bronze or Arial. Vhy?" He mumbled, mostly to himself.

"I would like to think my sire has something to do with that."

He narrowed his eye at the flat tone of your voice.

"Ztill doeznt make any zenze, I zaw pictures. Jour mozer vas like a tiny Bronze but vith Arial's eyez." He muttered, taping a finger to his chin.

You sigh, not wanting to continue on this topic.

"C'mon Blitz," you called out as you walked closer to the entrance of the plant. "I know someone we can talk to."

"Vho?"

"My mother."

You groaned inwardly, this was going to be a long day.