Disclaimer: You're insane if you think I own Beast Wars, seriously.

Moonstruck

I've been staring up at the sky for what feels like an eternity. There ain't nothin' up there I ain't seen before but I don't give a rat's ass – no pun intended. I've been coming out here every night, just to stare at the sky 'cause I can.

And Fearless Leader's been shootin' me these looks that sorta say, "he's finally knocked one too many screws loose," in a subtle Optimus kinda way. I grin and bear it because it just might be true. Sometimes even I think I'm nuts, but we're all entitled to our own opinions. And if ya ask me, I think we're all crazy for being here to begin with, but that's just me.

Rhinox sometimes sits me down before I come out here and he tries to coax whatever he thinks is wrong with me out. I always give him a good, hard slap on the back and tell him I'm fine and nothin's wrong. He never believes me and I can't blame him. I am a rat after all, a con. I know just what to say to keep myself alive and everyone else off my back. He always shakes his head as I leave but I don't care because he still doesn't know what's goin' on inside my system.

The kid – eh, he's got a long way to go before he even comes close to understandin' me. But that doesn't stop him from askin' what's on my mind when we're out on patrol together. I tell him it's nothin' and the apparent distance between me and the rest of the Axalon crew ain't there, that it's all in his head. I tell him nothin's changed and we're still tight-nit pals and he believes me because he doesn't know any better. Not that it matters anyway because I ain't lyin'. We're still as close as we were as when we left Cybertron – now that ain't sayin' much but it doesn't matter. There's just things I like to keep to myself and Cheetor knows when to back off because he knows how I can get. I actually respect that about him – to a degree.

Then there's the obligatory hero who's obviously tryin' too hard. Silverbolt doesn't bother tryin' to talk to me anymore, not when I'm headin' out. Not since that one time he cornered me – with his best intentions – and asked what was wrong. I told him nothin' was wrong other than the fact he had an irritable rat cornered. He mentioned I was even more irritable than usual and I thanked him for noticing before shoving him off and makin' my exit. Now the bird-dog sighs whenever I go out, givin' me these sorta sad puppy-dog eyes. I can't stand it; I don't want his sympathy because it's just another thing he's obligated to do. He thinks he has to dish it out and he's too caught up in the hero act to listen to me when I say I don't want those sad eyes lookin' my way.

Yeah, they all show their concern in their own ways and a part of me actually appreciates that. But in the end, where does that get me? Nowhere, that's where. I still come out on this rocky ledge near the ship whenever I can and stare at the sky.

Why do I do this? Sometimes, I wonder that myself. There ain't anything there to see but the stars and the moon. Every night it's the same and it's always gonna be the same.

Still though, I'm out here again, lookin' at the space beyond the atmosphere of this planet. Slag, I don't even really like lookin' at the sky... because there's nothin' there to see.

Y'see, I come out here to look for something but it ain't there. No matter how long I stare or how often I come out here, I ain't ever gonna find what I'm lookin' for. I'm never gonna find him. His spark's long gone, gone and ascended to the Matrix to be with Cybertron's best – or so I'm told.

I keep hopin' one night I'll see a twinkle or somethin'. Some sign a part of him is still around somewhere – maybe lookin' out for us. Maybe... lookin' out for me. It's nice to dream, ain't it?

So maybe I've short-circuited, or maybe I've been putting up a front but it shouldn't matter to anyone but me. I'm the idiot rat that's running a maze on his own, refusing any sorta help. But I like it that way. I like being in this all my own, because then it's all mine. My feelings, my want and need. My on-going denial and my little black void in my spark.

Eh, who cares, right? I don't. I mean, yeah, I don't really like lookin' at the stars, searching for someone I ain't ever gonna see again – even I know it's a waste of perfectly good time. However... I don't mind being under the stars, thinkin' about him. I don't mind bein' some bot whose team thinks he's crazy. And I definitely don't mind bein' some nutty stargazer who's gonna forever deny the galaxies the truth 'cause he's too angry to admit he actually cared for someone other than himself for once in his life.

I don't mind because all of this turmoil inside o' me is mine – and partially his, if ya really think about it. So, all of this, when everything is torn apart by technicalities, it's all ours. And that's just fine by me.

-End