Bob paced anxiously, emitting dissatisfied noises every few steps. The door was locked (he had already scratched at it a few different time) and he hadn’t heard anyone outside for a while. He was left alone occasionally, but never for this long before -- had he been bad? What did he do wrong?
Bob’s steps took a more frantic edge, clacking his claws against the ground. Were they under attack? But he always helped during battles -- he was an asset! -- surely he couldn’t have been left behind? The swarm had already done that to him once, but Sunstreaker wouldn’t...he didn’t...
The bug nibbled on everything within his reach -- brushes, datapads, canisters, and ran his servos down the wall again. Anything to soothe the fear he felt. Anything to make someone remember him.