Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or any of its characters.

This is part of the "More Than A Leader" series, which will be about Optimus Prime and his relationships with the Autobots. It will mostly on the view of the said Autobot and how they perceive Optimus, whether he is a hero, friend, fatherly figure, brother, leader or something else to them.

This one-shot can stand alone, without support or continuance from the other soon-to-come stories. You can read the stories in whatever order you wish.

I decided to play the Guess-who-the-Autobot-is game. So the Autobot in question is entirely left to your interpretation as to who it may be. Though it can be said that all of the Autobots apply this.

When The Brave Stumble

You sat in the darkened lounge, one hand clenched tightly on a half-full energon drink. Exhausted optics stared dully around your empty surroundings. You were tired. So tired. But you won't risk it. Not to see those bloodied images flash before your optics once more.

Megatron laughed, standing on a rotting pile of Autobots, all gruesomely broken, triumphantly holding a dissembled head ... Optimus Prime's head …

The hand holding the energon shook slightly and you fought hard to steady yourself. It was only a dream, you reminded yourself for the umpteenth time. Dreams can't hurt the living and they certainly can't reach beyond the mind to where you were sitting now.

Then, you scolded yourself for acting in such a silly manner. What would your fellow Autobots say if they saw you right now, acting the way you did? You were an Autobot for Primus' sake! A seasoned warrior who fought against numerous foes and defeated them with the odds stacked against you. You shouldn't be terrified of some nightmare like a frightened youngling ...

With a horrid grin, the leader of the Decepticons crushed the head of Optimus Prime with a mere clench of his massive fist, and the brittle pieces, metal, wires, bolts and all, fell in defeat.

All your previous zeal gone, you buried your face in your hands, trying to erase the memories from your mind. You sat there, in the dark, seeing nothing but darkness. Unconsciously, you had began rocking back and forth, your mouth wordlessly mumbling and whispering to the unknown. The more you tried to forget, the more you remembered.

That was when Megatron turned and saw you. You wanted to run … to scream … to escape. But your body was broken, shattered beyond use, of no help whatsoever. Your legs had been torn and ripped apart from your body. Your arms hung brokenly and uselessly at your side. All that you were good for was additional junk in the scrap yard.

You could only watch helplessly, as the Decepticons in devastating forces came marching your way, thundering and roaring, surrounding you, till all hope of escape was virtually gone. The armies of the Decepticons were massive and looming, beating down ruthlessly on your vain attempts to remain calm, so great and terrifying that they were able to block out the sun and the skies.

One Decepticon foot cruelly trampled the remains of one of your friends - so unrecognizable, you couldn't tell who they are anymore, even if you put them back together again - while another simply kicked away what looked like a fractured arm.

No, you pleaded to no one. Not them. It should be you that laid there, not them. You were affordable to lose, expendable to die for the Autobot cause. Why not you? Why did the most irreplaceable people died first?

You had seen many repulsive things during your lifetime but nothing nauseated you more than seeing your friends and your comrades' dead scraps being further mauled and hewn even as they lay on the ground. You wanted to retch the energon you had recently consumed from your churning stomach. But it doggedly stayed there, stubbornly refusing to leave, happy to disturb you as much as it could.

" So he's the last one?" sneered Starscream, casually tossing a shattered helmet aside. " Too bad all that's left of the Autobots is this weakling. I'm - "

" - surprised that you're still here -"

" - and I thought they were made of sterner stuff than this. What - "

" - are you doing here at this time?"

You tried to speak, to spat out a retort or a curse, but nothing came out from your mouth. Clawing your throat wildly while the Decepticons raucously laughed, with a cold dread, you realized that your vocal processors were ripped out.

" Aww. The poor thing can't talk," one of the Decepticons taunted, lips curled in malevolent amusement. " Why don't you speak? Can you, Autobot? Why don't you -"

" Speak to me!"

You would if you could. There was no sound you could utter now. Just the screams in your head. Ringing, echoing, drumming in your head. Again and again. Over and over. Slowly, you gazed at your enemies, with nothing but a silent fury and a wavering courage that threatened to break.

It was all you had left.

But they laughed and they drew closer. You could feel their hands grabbing you, claws digging into you shoulders, giggling, mocking. You felt your waning strength flicker and it was gone.

You were going to die. You would not die as a hero, like Optimus Prime or the others. No, you won't. You would die voiceless, motionless and helpless. You would a coward's death. You would die slowly and painfully, begging to the Deceptions because nothing else could be worse than the pain that you were about to feel.

You would be ripped to pieces … all alone … drowning in despair … feeling worthless … only if you could ...

" Wake up!"

Suddenly, you found yourself being shaken out of your daze. Wildly, you looked around and was blinded by the suddenly bright room for a nanosecond. So that's why you could clearly see Optimus Prime's worried face floating in front of you.

" Are you all right?" the Autobot leader softly asked, his hand still retaining its firm grip on your shoulder.

" Yes - yes, of course, I'm all right," you mumbled, gruffly brushing off Optimus' hand. You distractedly rubbed your optics from the light that now burned into your optics, leaving dots in your vision. You squinted to see if anyone else saw you in your pathetic state. Fortunately, there was no one else but Optimus. " What are you doing here? Sir?" you quickly added.

Optimus crossed his arms, his face an emotionless mask to you. " I could ask the same with you." Great, now Optimus thinks you were going mental. Which you did happen to agree with at the moment.

You refused to look at Optimus, fearing to see the pity and compassion in your leader's optics. You didn't deserve it. Not after you acting like a gutless coward in your dreams. What guarantee that you wouldn't act like that in reality when it came to it? But no matter what, no matter who, Optimus Prime would show an understanding benevolence towards others, whether they deserved it or not.

It was especially those dark blue optics of Optimus that you feared. Sometimes, they frightened you. You couldn't quite explain it, couldn't quite put your finger on it. It was like they could see right through you, down to your very soul. Was it even possible for optics to have such a life to them?

" You haven't answered my question yet," Optimus gently pulled you back to the conversation.

" I was – enjoying a drink," you muttered tersely, eying your forgotten energon.

Optimus raised an eyebrow and gave you another suspicious look, while you preferred to remain silent. Finally, your commander walked over to the counter, poured himself a drink and pulled a seat next to the surprised you. " When drinking, it's best in company," Optimus shrugged, returning your quizzical stare.

Suddenly feeling annoyed, you took another huge gulp of energon, spilling a little of it in your haste. Optimus, however, sipped his slowly, savoring each swallow. If this was a game of patience, you knew you was going to lose against Prime, who happened to be second to Prowl when it came to this particular game. Then again, you desperately yearned for some company. Someone who was nearby and offered a hint of comfort to ease your misery.

" Did you see Ratchet yet?" Optimus abruptly asked, so suddenly that you nearly dropped your energon.

" Huh?" you stuttered out, too dumbstruck to speak properly. The energon must be affecting you more than you thought.

" Did you see Ratchet yet?" he repeated patiently. Optimus was now looking at you with a searching gaze that made you wilt pitifully under the kindly evaluation of your commander. " Judging from your look, I'd say no." Optimus sighed, setting his energon on the table with a soft clink. " Even if you don't see Ratchet, it would be best if you talked to someone about ... this."

You sucked in a breath. So, Optimus did noticed.

" What's there to say?" you grunted brusquely. You tried to sound tough. You tried to sound uncaring. Act like there's nothing wrong. Act like it never did bother you.

" It's unhealthy to keep things bottled up like this." His tone was casual, with a subtle implication of concern.

Annoyance bristled inside of you. You want to snap and retort at Optimus for bugging into your business. He didn't know what you were going through. Like the great Autobot commander would get nightmares in the first place.

" Perhaps I do know what you are going through," Optimus continued lightly. Did he just read your thoughts? Or maybe you just said them out loud? " When I was first appointed the Matrix. That was when they first started."

He smiled sadly, his gaze faraway, as if conjuring up the memories before his optics. It made you feel ashamed. Optimus carried a heavier burden more than any of you, the weight of a leader and the commander of his crew. You remembered how each death of any of his troops hurt Optimus more than anyone else. You were his children, his brothers-in-arms and friends.

" Sir -" you began, mortified and shamed.

Optimus clapped a hand to your shoulder, shaking his head gently. " It's all right," he said. " We all get this moment of weakness and it is nothing that you or I should be ashamed of. We are not simply unfeeling machines without emotion and fault. It is a side of ourselves that we must learn to embrace."

At the end of his words, you suddenly felt much better than you did in days, for several nights. His words was like a calming drug, coursing through you, driving out the nightmares and cold. You could breath easily now and you could open your optics without seeing the images flashing in them.

Your leader before you was everything that you could have ever needed to defeat the nightmares. Why didn't you see it sooner?

With the burden finally free from your shoulders, the burning desire to speak made itself known to you and you realized now couldn't be the more perfect time.

" Optimus?"

He looked at you, no condemnation or criticism in his optics. You swallowed, taking a deep breath.

And you opened your mouth and the words came tumbling out, as they were meant to.