Misery.
Steeljaw’s laid low the past few cycles, sensing that his brothers more needed each other than him. It’s late, and he’s tired from staying up and worrying, and he needs his creator.
Slinking into the security room, he spots Blaster and walks over, rubbing against his shin in quiet comfort.
He felt his oldest nearby and closed his optics before reaching down and stroking the feline-cassette’s back slowly. If there was anything Blaster could be thankful for it was the fact that he was never truly alone onboard the ship. Having three of his four creations with him onboard helped more than words could express.
“Thank you, Steeljaw.” He said quietly as he tried to will the tension to leave his shoulders. He’d been holding himself upright and sitting up straight in the chair for what seemed like hours when it was a few moments.
Purring, Steeljaw looked up at his creator. "Ratchet can fix this. I'm sure of it, boss."
He arched his back as Blaster pet him, walking back and forth and pressing his helm into the other's hand. Of course he was worried, but what Blaster needed now was reassurance and love, and it felt... good to be able to help. It made this easier to some strange extent.
