Holy potatoes – Jaacs is alive! :O

I have a hard time believing it myself. I wish to apologize deeply to those who have wished to see more of me out here on FanFiction, and I regret not upholding that mental promise I made of updating more often. I, Jaacs, apologize sincerely from the bottom of my heart.

*Sniff* Okay! Enough of the sob fest… WAH!

I realize this is a day late, but I ended up having to retype this so I was delayed. I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers Animated in any way, shape or form. Dani Teal is my personal character, however, so she is mine.

Thank you to all the veterans that served for my life and countless others. Thank you and God bless.

XxXxXxXx

It was a Friday – a day usually filled with happy laughter and other joyous activities. But today was oddly silent. All the Autobots on base made naught a sound, going about their business in respectful silence and solidarity. Even the obnoxiously-social Bumblebee staying in his quarters and rarely came out all day. Dani Teal sat in her room with the door locked, and no one seemed to know what she was doing. Prowl thought she was meditating, Bulkhead thought she was listening to music, and Optimus Prime thought it best to leave her alone. Of all the Autobots Ratchet was most confused. What was so slaggin' special about today? He went to Dani's room and rapped on the door with his knuckles, but he received no answer. Ratchet did not knock again, however. If she wanted to be alone, so be it. He returned to his room and settled down for a stasis nap. If no one would bother him, why waste the opportunity, right? After a couple of hours Ratchet onlined his optics and was immediately drawn to stare at the loud intrusion across from him on the table. A canvas painting was propped against the wall next to a single red poppy flower. The painting was black and white, a rough hand gently grasping the stem of another single poppy flower. The plant was the only thing colored amongst the crevices and shadows, and the plant almost seemed out of place, though Ratchet believed it somehow belonged there. Picking up the canvas gingerly he flipped it over and read the note taped on the back.

"On this day, November 11th, of the year 2011, we remember the countless veterans that served in the armed forces to protect and preserve the world we could not live without. The poppy is a traditional symbol, a beacon of hope amidst all the tragedy and casualties of war. So here is a poppy for you, in thanks for all that you do and have done. You have impacted my life more than you realize, and you mean more to me than many. All the things you may regret doing in life were done for a reason, perhaps bringing you to Earth for such a time as this. Whether to make a new life for yourself or simply to be appreciated, I thank the Lord every day that I have come to call you my friend, Ratchet, and that I have come to include you in my definition of family. You have changed my life forever, and for that I say thank you. Love, Dani"

Ratchet's grizzly face was drawn in an expression of surprise and awe. Setting down the painting he picked up the poppy, and he subconsciously saw the outline of a smaller, more delicate hand holding the flower over the more visible hand. A symbol of hope this was, and Ratchet was seized by the feeling that he was appreciated, and he felt loved. For a hardened veteran like Ratchet, love was the greatest strength that one could give or receive. Love.

"The cure for all ills and wrongs, the cares, the sorrows and the crimes of humanity, all lie in the one word 'love.'" ~ Lydia Maria Child