Team Prime was currently down in an deep energon cave that Wheeljack had found while coming back to Jasper. It was enough energon to last a whole year the best part was there as no cons. None at all.
"Gotta hand it to you Jacky! This cave is awesome!" Bulkhead exclaimed as he punched Wheeljack on the arm.
"I'm gonna actually agree with Bulk on this one," Arcee commented. “It’s a nice find, how many cons did you have to take out when you found it?”
“None at all, to bad though, I was looking forward to kicking a bunch of scarps today too, but this place was a score for real.”
“This could last us like a whole year! Right?” Smokescreen says while tapping the walls of the cave. In which Bumblebee chirped excitedly while nodding his helm.
Optimus stood next to Ultra Magus still scanning the cave some more. He was proud of Wheeljack about finding the cave, but given everything that they’ve all been through lately in past missions, he was slightly hesitant. Ultra Magus raised his optics looking at the Prime.
“Is something troubling you sir?”
Optimus hummed, “No, but you can never be to careful.” Optimus raised his voice so everyone could hear him, “Let’s quickly grab as much energon as we can and head back to base, Wheeljack excellent work, I gave you my thanks.”
Wheeljack nods, giving Bulkhead a smug look. “No problem boss, just doing my job.”
With that everyone spilt into two or three groups grabbing energon and filling up carts and putting it on Wheeljack’s ship.
Smokescreen, Bumblebee and Arcee walked further into the cave finding the mother load of energon.
“Come on Smokescreen, we have way more than enough,” Arcee says signaling them that it’s time to go back.
“Aw come on, we gotta get a little bit more! You never know maybe the cons might find this place and we’ll never get it back again,” Smokescreen replied back still grabbing more energon.
Arcee sighed, “I understand your concerns, I do, but we've gone far enough into this cave, and I don't like staying in caves for any longer than necessary.”
“But, the more the merrier." Smokescreen objected.
"We have enough," Arcee responded.
Bumblebee attempted to intervene, but the two-wheeler refused. Acree rolled her optics turning around, "Do what you want then."
Smokescreen chuckled and huffed, "Fine by me-“
Bumblebee beeped questioning Smokescreen sudden demeanor change, Smokescreen switched his servo’s into guns pointing in the direction of the energon. Arcee did the same unsure of what was going on.
“I heard something….” Smokescreen finally said after a few seconds of unmoving. Stepping closer Smokescreen became to see a metallic chest plate, he then stepped a bit closer and was lunged at. Stumbling back Smokescreen fired a shot missing his attacker who managed to get on top of him.
“What the-“ Arcee and Bumblebee pointed their guns at the thing. It was a cybertronion animal. But it was a predacon, since a predacon wouldn’t have given Smokescreen the chance to get that close since they’re territorial when it came to energon.
Arcee fired a shot at it and hit it on its sides. It whimpered and shook its helm trying to get up but struggled, letting out a sharp yelp in doing so. Acree stared at it feeling a bit uneasy for having to shoot it. But it was either them or it.
“What the heck is that thing?!” Smokescreen stammered while trying to get back in his feet. His spark pounded against his chest plate looking to see what almost un-alived him.
“Looks like it’s from our planet…” Arcee said hesitantly still trying to examine it.
“Should we call Optimus?” Smokescreen asked.
“Yeah…” Arcee nods while looking at Bumblebee.
After ending the com link Smokescreen huffed, “Maybe shooting it wasn’t the idea…”
“It was you or them,” Arcee huffs as well.
“Arcee?”
Optimus voice echoed through the cave as he came closer to the three, Bumblebee waved him over and pointed at the creature that attacked Smokescreen.
Optimus and Ultra Magnus came closer, inspecting the creature as it whines losing its own energon, Optimus leaned down examining it some more. His optics went wide seeing the creature up closer.
Bumblebee chirped and beeped in confusion while Smokescreen began to start asking questions.
“Do you recognize that thing Optimus?”
“This is a cybertronion hound, only used by Cybertions bounty hunters.”
“Bounty hunters?!” Smokescreen and Bumblebee said beeped at the same time then both looked at Arcee. Arcee’s optics went wide, “Your telling me that belongs to a bounty hunter….”
Optimus turned to look back at the three younger bots with concerns, before noticing a reflection within the energon that captured his attention. He stood up and turned switching his servo to a gun, “Show yourself.”
Optimus narrowed his optics seeing a figure step into his view, his spark rate began to rise at the sight of… you.
You stood there narrowing your own optics at the Prime in front of you, you scoffed in realization.
It was the autobots. And their leader Optimus Prime.
You took aim at his head, glaring at the bot with anger as you fired. Your shot missed as Optimus dodged with precision, his optics meeting yours with a mix of no fear and hesitation.
“Waste of scrap and metal,” you grumbled.
“We mean you no harm,” Optimus says. “My apologies for your friend.”
"My apologies for your friend," he added, acknowledging the unintended consequence of the battle.
The others raised their weapons, with Arcee aiming hers at your hound. Optimus held his servos up, signaling the others to stand down, they all lowered the guns hesitantly with Ultra Magus speaking up. “Is this wise Optimus?”
“I agree with him with on this one sir,” Arcee says. “Bounty hunters hunt. She coukd be working for the cons.”
You rolled your optics, “Autobots, Decepticons, is that all you talk about? I should rip your sparks out and feed it to my hounds.”
“Hounds?” Smokescreen’s optics widened. Hearing growls coming from around them, four more hounds larger the injured one stepped around the rocks of the caves.
“Scrap…” he muttered softly, sensing the tension escalating around them.
“Forgive them, I shall take the blame for their consequence,” Optimus began to kneel down. “Whatever you must do, let me receive it.”
Your largest hound, bristling with protectiveness, snarled as it positioned itself between you and Optimus, a silent but clear warning. The air crackled with tension your other hound gently lifted your injured companion onto its back, carrying it towards you.
You optics shifted towards your smaller hound, scanning over their injures, your spark could rest easy, the femme bot was a crappy shot, missed your hounds vital areas completely.
Steeling yourself, you closed the distance to Optimus, your optics locked onto his with a mix of defiance, grief, and determination. Switching your servo back to your gun, you aimed it squarely at Optimus’s head, the weight of the situation heavy on your shoulders. Arcee’s optics narrowed, sensing the gravity of your demand, while the other Autobots stood tense and watchful.
“Fix him,” you demanded with a low tone, switching your gun back to your servo.
Optimus lifted his helm, meeting your gaze with a steady resolve in his own optics. As you took a step back, allowing him to rise to his full height.
“Very well,” Optimus said with a nod. He placed his digits to his com link, calling base.
It had been close to a year since you joined the Autobots, but you rarely engaged in combat unless it was a life-threatening situation. Most of the time, you focused on training the other Autobots and your hounds, teaching them where to improve and honing their skills.
Finally, a critical mission arrived, and Optimus called you for backup against Megatron. You and your hounds swiftly passed through the ground bridge, arriving at the battlefield ahead.
“Sick ’em,” you commanded in Cybertronian, your hounds responding instantly by rushing towards the battlefield. You followed closely behind them, switching your servo to a cannon and narrowing one optic as you focused your aim from a distance, targeting whomever was your vision.
Optimus spotted you—again. His optics flicked in your direction, a brief glance amidst the chaos of the battlefield. But it wasn’t the first time. His gaze had lingered more than once, always circling back to you as if he needed confirmation you were still standing.
You gritted your denta. Focus, Prime. Stop looking at me. He was supposed to be leading, fighting—not checking on you like some fragile protoform.
The sharp, gravelly laughter of Megatron sliced through the noise. Your sensors twitched at the sound, locking onto his massive frame as he charged toward Optimus with terrifying force and speed, like a living missile of rage and war.
The ground trembled with the impact as the two titans clashed, brutal blow after brutal blow. Megatron didn’t let up, pounding relentlessly until Optimus staggered backward, boots scraping the rocky incline. His footing faltered.
“SCRAP—OPTIMUS!” Smokescreen’s shout broke your focus as a flash of blue light burst from his blaster. You turned just in time to see it veer off course—direct hit. The bolt slammed into the side of Optimus’s helmet, sparks flying.
Your spark leapt.
You didn’t think—just reacted. You raised your weapon and fired at Megatron, catching him in the side. It barely slowed him. But then—
A blur of fur and fury. Your hound, the largest of your companions, launched himself onto the Decepticon leader. Claws dug in, jaws snapping as Megatron reeled, crashing into Optimus. Your second shot hit its mark just as they collided, the explosion blasting them both off the ledge.
The terrain groaned. Then crumbled.
The rockface split beneath them, a jagged maw opening up as both warlords—and your hound—plummeted into the shadowed drop below.
Your optics widened. “No—” The word tore from your throat before you were even aware of running.
You sprinted, but Bulkhead tackled you mid-stride, slamming you to the ground. Bumblebee grabbed your arm, holding fast as you writhed beneath them.
“Get off me!” you growled, struggling. “Move!”
But they didn’t.
“It’s too risky,” Bumblebee beeped, his tones strained with panic and restraint.
You glared at them, fury in your optics. “He went down there with them. I have to go!”
Bulkhead’s voice was low, almost apologetic. “And if you go down too, we might lose you.”
The silence that followed was deafening—punctuated only by the distant crashing of falling stone and the haunting echo of the fight lost to the chasm.
⸻
“Lose me?” you scoffed, voice laced with bitter disbelief. “Bulkhead, the war has your sensors scrambled. I will stand with you, yes—but never beside you.”
He froze, expression faltering just for a second. That line cut deeper than your blaster ever could.
“That’s a load of scrap,” he muttered under his breath, barely audible over the hum of static in the comms.
You turned your optics sharply. “Pardon?” your tone sharp as serrated steel. “Speak louder, Autobot.”
Bulkhead’s fist clenched. “That’s a load of SCRAP!” he snapped, voice rising with the weight of everything he couldn’t say until now. “You think you’re the only one who cares? You think you’re the only one who’s lost someone? You act like you’re above all of us—but we bleed too! We fight too!”
Your chassis heaved with restrained rage, but there was a flicker—just a flicker—of something else behind your optics.
“You hold onto that superiority like it’s armor,” Bulkhead continued, breathing heavy, “but all it’s doing is isolating you. We’re not your enemy. We never were.”
Bumblebee’s helm turned back and forth between you both, the tension almost too thick to bear.
You swallowed hard, but your voice came out low, sharp. “I don’t need allies who hesitate. My hound could be dead. Optimus could be dead.”
“You think we don’t know that?” Bulkhead hissed. “You think we don’t feel that weight too? But rushing into a pit blindly doesn’t save anyone—it just gives the Decepticons another corpse to throw on the fire.”
You pushed yourself halfway up, eyes narrowing. “You think this is about you? About your war?” you spat. “I don’t give a damn about your Autobot cause—or Megatron’s chaos. I never have.”
Your voice lowered, fiercer now, raw. “I fight for them. My hounds. The only ones who never lied to me. Never used me. Not like this scrapheap war between you and them.”
Bulkhead opened his mouth, but you cut him off.
“I raised them with my own hands. Pulled them out of scrap piles, oil-starved and spark-flickering. You? You had teams. Bases. Brothers. I had silence and rust and them. And now one of them is down there—maybe dying—because I trusted someone outside of them.”
Your optics flicked, the rage cracking—revealing something else.
“Because he told me there was more,” you admitted, just above a whisper. “That I didn’t have to do this alone. That maybe… maybe there was a place for me beyond the hunter I was built to be.”
Bumblebee shifted, quieting, watching you carefully.
You exhaled, heavy and bitter. “And now I don’t even know if I’ll ever get the chance to tell him that I believed him.”
Bulkhead looked at you differently now. Not as an outsider. Not as a threat. But as someone on the edge of loss. Just like them.
“Then we go after them,” he said quietly, stepping back. “But together.”
—
Below the cliff…
The world had gone silent.
Dust hung thick in the air, illuminated by the flickering embers of stray energon and fractured terrain. A groan rumbled low through the ravine as shifting metal stirred from the wreckage.
Optimus lay half-buried beneath a fallen slab of rock, energon dripping slowly from a tear in his side. His optics flickered—dim, but active. Systems struggling to stabilize.
Across from him, Megatron had fared worse. Smoke curled from the torn plating of his chest, his cannon sparking violently from the impact. But even now, even wounded, his optics burned red.
Between them… was your hound.
Your largest and most loyal beast, his massive form panting with strain as he tried to rise. One leg was bent wrong, crushed beneath fallen stone. But his eyes—bright and unwavering—remained locked on Optimus.
A low growl rumbled from his throat as he stood, protecting the Prime.
Optimus stirred, trying to rise, hand pressed to the wound on his side. “Easy,” he rasped to the hound, voice weak but steady. “You’ve done enough.”
The hound didn’t budge. He stayed between the two leaders, growling low every time Megatron twitched.
Megatron spat a glob of energon to the side. “Still clinging to your pets, Prime?” he sneered, his voice ragged. “How… sentimental.”
But the hound barked sharply—loud, fierce. A warning.
Optimus grunted as he pulled himself upright, plating scraped and dented, energon still leaking from his side. His optics locked on Megatron—worn, weathered… but not defeated.
The hound stayed rooted in place, lips curled, stance ready to lunge if needed.
Megatron shifted, gears grinding as he propped himself against a shattered boulder. “Don’t waste your breath, Prime,” he spat. “I didn’t come here for teamwork.”
Optimus didn’t flinch.
“If we want to make it out of this place,” he said, voice heavy but resolute, “we need to do it together, Megatron.”
The air held still, crackling with silence.
Megatron stared at him, optics unreadable.
“Together?” he repeated with venom. “You’d stand beside me now—after everything?”
Optimus nodded once, his expression unchanging. “Not as allies. Not as enemies. But as survivors. For now.”
Megatron’s optics narrowed. He looked at the hound still guarding Optimus, then up at the rim of the cliff where your shadow had just appeared—fury in your stride, weapon ready, eyes only on your hound.
The Decepticon warlord chuckled darkly, resting his head back against the stone.
“This day grows more absurd by the minute.”
Crumbling edge of the ravine just as Megatron finished his sneer. You didn’t wait. The second your optics locked onto your hound—wounded, growling, standing guard—you jumped.
Bulkhead shouted behind you. Bumblebee beeped in alarm.
But you were already falling.
You hit the ground hard, rolling over shattered stone before landing in a crouch, blaster drawn, eyes locked on Megatron. Your hound turned, limping toward you with a pitiful whine that shattered the fire behind your eyes.
“Easy, girl,” you murmured, rushing to your wounded hound, wrapping an arm around her thick neck. You looked her over, hands shaking. “You stubborn scrap-eater. You held your ground.”
The hound whined again and nuzzled your side, panting.
Optimus watched you silently, one hand pressed to his wound. He made no move—just looked at you. That same way he always did. Not like a soldier. Not like a Prime.
But like he cared.
“Optimus,” you snapped without looking at him, voice hard. “Are you functional?”
“I will manage,” he replied quietly.
Your eyes flicked to Megatron, who was smirking despite the scorch across his chest.
“Oh good,” you growled. “Then you can both tell me why you had to drag my hound into this.”
Megatron laughed—low and hoarse. “He threw himself in. Loyal little monster.”
You stood slowly, placing yourself fully between the Decepticon and your hound. “Megatron. You’ve seen, better days. Allow me to put you out of your misery now.”
Optimus raised a hand—not to stop you, but to speak.
“There is no point in further bloodshed,” he said. “We need to get out of here before this place buries us.”
You exhaled through your nose, eyes still burning.
“I’m not here for your cause, Prime,” you muttered. “I’m not here for his either. I came for her.” You motioned to your hound. “And maybe I came for you too.”
Optimus looked at you then—not with judgment. But with something gentler. Something that made you want to look away and hold eye contact all at once.
“I know,” he said softly.
You glanced at the shifting rocks overhead. “Then let’s move. Before the whole mountain decides to finish what you two started.”
The climb out was rough—stone crumbled underfoot, and the incline was steep, but none of it mattered. Not with your hound limping beside you and the weight of everything unsaid pressing harder than the terrain.
Bulkhead and Bumblebee met you halfway down the ledge, helping to secure a makeshift line to lift Megatron—unconscious now—and ease him toward a neutral drop zone. The truce held, fragile and temporary. But it held.
You paused partway up the path, optics scanning the injured Prime just a few paces behind. He was silent, focused. But you knew he was hurting—more than just the visible wounds.
You waited until it was just the two of you, with the others ahead tending to your hound and clearing the last section of debris.
“I didn’t ask for this,” you said quietly, still facing the rocks ahead.
Optimus’s voice came gently behind you. “Neither did I.”
You turned slightly, just enough to catch his gaze. “I’m not one of your Autobots. I never was. You know that.”
“I do.”
“I was fine on my own. Me, my hounds. I didn’t need your missions. Your cause. Your speeches.” Your voice cracked slightly—just enough to betray you.
He said nothing.
“I didn’t need… anyone.” You let the words hang in the air, bitter on your tongue. “But then you looked at me like I was worth saving. Like I was… more than a weapon.”
Optimus’s voice dipped lower, calm and honest. “Because you do.”
“Why?” you asked, almost desperately. “Why do you care? I’ve shot at your soldiers. I’ve walked away when I could’ve helped. I’ve made it very clear I’m not one of you.”
“Because I see you,” he said, stepping closer. “Not the bounty hunter. Not the threat. You. The one who chose compassion in a world that taught you not to. The one who fights like she’s alone, but still puts herself between danger and those she loves.”
You didn’t realize you were holding your breath.
“Even when you push others away,” he added, “you’re still fighting for something bigger than yourself. You just haven’t let yourself admit it yet.”
Your hands clenched at your sides. You wanted to refute him. Wanted to push him away again. But the words didn’t come.
Because deep down… you knew he was right.
“I’ve been alone a long time, Prime,” you whispered, barely audible. “It’s safer that way.”
“I know,” he said, and his voice softened like something precious breaking open. “But you don’t have to be anymore.”
Your hound pressed her head gently against your leg again, and you blinked back something you hadn’t felt in a long time.
Warmth.
Not just survival. Not duty. But family. Another kind of family,
And this time, you didn’t pull away.
“I’m not joining your war,” you said, voice steady but quiet. His servo extended to yours—quiet, steady, open.
You stared at it.
The metal was worn, scratched from battle and time, streaked with dried energon and dust. Not the hand of a myth. Not some perfect symbol of hope.
Just a mech who had seen too much. Lost too much. Survived it anyway.
Your gaze lifted to his optics. They weren’t blazing with command or conviction like they were in battle. They were calm. Soft. Patient.
He didn’t pressure you.
He just… waited.
Your hand hovered in the space between you, uncertainty rattling your spark. You didn’t do this. You didn’t reach. You survived. You endured. You trusted only the things you raised with your own hands—your hounds, your weapons, your instincts.
But something about this…
Something about him..
You slowly placed your servo into his.
His digits closed around yours—gentle, but solid. The contact was warm. Not physically, maybe, but it felt warm. Grounding. Steady in a way the world rarely was.
And just for a second… you let yourself feel it.
Not weakness.
Not surrender.
Just connection.
He looked at you, optics searching yours.
“You are not defined by what you’ve walked away from,” Optimus said, his voice low. “You are defined by what you choose to walk toward.”
Your grip tightened, just slightly. “Then maybe… maybe I’ll walk a little further with you.”
A flicker of something—relief?—moved behind his gaze.
You stood in silence for a moment, together. No longer enemies. Not quite allies. But something that mattered more.
A skilled autobot sniper, frustrated by their lack of hand-to-hand combat abilities and hidden feelings for Bumblebee, trains intensely to prove themselves, while the team offers support, unaware of the sniper's inner conflict.
1/2
Once again, Bumblebee saved you from cons. You grumbled walking back to base, feeling a mix of frustration and gratitude. You weren’t the weakest but definitely not the strongest, not like the wreckers with their brute strength or quick like Arcee with her agility.
You were a sniper, skilled at taking down enemies from a distance. Your strength lay in your ability to blend into the shadows, moving silently and striking precisely.
However, in hand-to-hand combat, you often found yourself at a disadvantage, unlike Bumblebee, who excelled in it.
“You okay, N/N?” Raf asked you with a smile.
“I need to train,” you answered back with a low groan.
“He saved you again, didn’t he?” Raf snickered, closing his laptop.
“I don’t wanna hear it—“
Raf laughed, “N/N! It’s okay! You’re a stealth scout, not a brawler. You play to your strengths.”
You sighed, leaning against the wall. “I know, I just need to be able to handle myself in a fight alone.”
Raf nodded thoughtfully. “You know, maybe you could ask Bulkhead for some training. He’s tough and knows his way around a fight.”
“You rolled your optics. “I’m not asking that jumbo bot for nothing. I’d rather suffer.”
“You’re suffering now,” Raf remarked gently. “Why does it bother you so much that Bumblebee helps you? You guys are on the same team after all.”
You looked away, frustration and embarrassment heating your face plate as you stormed off to the training room. In your hurry, you accidentally bumped into Ratchet, causing him to drop his toolbox with a clatter.
“Y/N! I needed that!” he shouted after you.
“I need to train!” you shouted back, your voice echoing down the corridor as you continued on your way.
“Geez, what’s her damage?” Ratchet muttered to himself, shaking his head in confusion as he picked up his things.
“Bumblebee saved her and asked for a bridge back, and she’s upset,” Raf explained with concern in his voice.
“She’s one of the best weapon specialists in the making. What does Bumblebee have on her?”
“Hand-to-hand combat,” Raf replied softly, recalling the many times you’d voiced your frustration over it. Ratchet raised his optical ridge and let out a gruff chuckle. “Seriously? That’s it?”
Raf sighed, sensing the weight of your struggle. “I’m starting to feel a little bad, Ratchet—“
“There’s no need, Rafael,” Ratchet interrupted. “Y/N’s feelings for Bumblebee are the only reason she feels she needs to be better.”
“Wait—Y/N has feelings for Bee?” Raf repeated, surprised.
“Always, it was plainly obvious,” Ratchet shrugged, moving towards his work station. “She’s too stubborn to admit it, so it’s not my problem to solve.”
Raf hesitated, considering the revelation. “Maybe I can help…”
“Good luck with that. Just leave me out of it,” Ratchet waved Raf off, already engrossed in his work.
Meanwhile, in the training room, you continued to focus on your drills, unaware of the discussion unfolding outside.
As Raf pondered how to approach the situation, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of responsibility towards helping you navigate your feelings. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, but he was determined to find a way to support you, even if Ratchet preferred to stay out of it.
The ground bridge opened, and the other Autobots came in, all of them seeming cheerful and in good spirits.
“Oh man—and the way I took down that con was awesome! I wish Miko was there; she would’ve loved it,” Bulkhead exclaimed.
“Jack would’ve been screaming his poor lungs out if he saw that,” Arcee chuckled. “But I really gotta hand it to you, Smokescreen. You’ve improved a lot out there. I’m impressed.”
Smokescreen rubbed the back of his helm. “Ah, well, what can I say? I was made a natural talent. Kinda like you, Bee.”
Bumblebee whirled with excitement, exchanging high-fives with the others before heading over to Raf.
“Hey Raf! Where’s Y/N? I gotta show her something I found before she left,” Bumblebee beeped and whirred in his unique language.
Raf nodded and pointed to the corridor. “She’s in the training room, oh and Bee, she’s a little upset right now, so be a little easy on her.”
Bumblebee nodded, concern flashing in his optics. He headed towards the training room at a light jog. Entering the room, he saw you in the middle of your drills. “Y/N,” Bumblebee beeped softly, trying to catch your attention without startling you. “I found something cool I wanted to show you.”
You paused mid-strike, turning to see Bumblebee standing there, his optics shining with genuine excitement. The frustration you felt earlier mingled with a sense of warmth at seeing him.
“What is it, Bee?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.
Bumblebee held out a small, intricate piece of Cybertronian tech, something rare and valuable. “I thought you might like this. Optimus said it’s a tool used by the old weapon specialists back on Cybertron. I found it in the wreckage during the mission before you left.”
Your optics widened in surprise and curiosity as you took the item from Bumblebee’s outstretched servo. “I haven’t seen this before, Bee. Thank you.”
Bumblebee smiled, glad to see a spark of happiness in your optics. “Why are you training? Aren’t you tired?”
You looked down at the tool, trying to hide the mix of emotions swirling within you. “I just… I need to get better. For myself.”
Bumblebee tilted his helm, a concerned whir escaping him. “But why?”
You hesitated, your face plate becoming warm, you turned your helm away. “I just have a lot to prove, so you don’t have to keep risking your neck to save me all the time.”
Bumblebee placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “I’m always here to help.”
You nodded, feeling a bit lighter. “Thanks, Bee. That means a lot coming from you, but— I need to work harder.”
You nudged Bee’s shoulder away then gave him a meek smile before walking out.
Bee stood in the room slightly lost, “Was it something I said?” He beeped.
. . .
A few days later, the others hardly saw you. The only times they did was when you were going into recharge or going on missions with Optimus after much begging that they obviously didn’t know.
You stood in the middle of a field waiting for Optimus to ground bridge to you so you could continue your training with him.
“What’s taking so long—“
The ground bridge opened out came not Optimus but Bumblebee and the others.
You froze in place as you saw Smokescreen waving at you with a smug expression.
“Scrap,” you muttered as you crossed your arms.
“Sorry to crash your date N/N, Optimus wanted us to tell you that he got stuck doing something with Agent Frowler.”
“Rude, how dare you ruin our alone time,” you rolled your optics with a smirk on your face plate.
“So you gonna tell us why you’ve been with Optimus so much or do we have to guess?” Arcee asked walking up closer to you.
“Nothing really, just extra training and learning how to use this tech Bumblebee gave me,” you answered truthfully, showing Arcee your sniper with the added tech while switching your servo.
“Ooh, Knockout was going crazy for that thing. I’m shocked you managed to grab it, Bee,” Bulkhead chuckled. “Nice! We are freakin’ awesome.”
Smokescreen and Bulkhead high-fived each other while Bumblebee laughed, and Arcee smiled, placing her hand on her hip.
You turned around and walked further into the field, a scowl on your faceplate. The further you went into the field you saw a small rock poking out off to the side. You walked closer to it unsure of what it what, still hearing the laughter and banter behind you didn’t bother to turn around.
Hearing footsteps behind you, you looked over your shoulder pad seeing Bumblebee. He gave you a small friendly wave before beeping, “What’s that?”
