Disclaimer: The following story is obviously only a fanfic, the Transformers franchise isn't mine and I'm receiving no money from this. This is only a way of expressing my creativeness blah blah blah. Same goes eith the chapters that follow. I'm not going to repeat this in every chapter so here it is. Not mine. OC's made by me, all else belongs to Hasbro. So there. Happy now?

Author's note: After reading my share of Transformes fics I came to a conclusion: I need to write some myself. I'm not sure yet how this is going to work out but let's see, shall we?

The fic is going to e OC centric, I'm not even sure yet if the Autobots from the movieverse are going to be in this one. I know it's a big turn-off to many readers, so I'm making sure no-one gets disappointed in the end. Sure, if my messed up head decides to spit out a sudden change in the plot (which I'm still working on) the good old 'bots from the movies might pop up but at the moment that seems unlikely.

My experiences of Transformers circle around the three live action movies and two first seasons of Transformers Prime (not to forget all the fics I've read), so all my info comes from those. I haven't seen G1 or any of the others so sorry if things get mixed up.

I should probably also mention that English is not my native language and even though I've been studying it for years now, I still need a lot of practice. I mean that's why I'm here! So please forgive me if some of the sentences are messy and weirdly placed or something.

Since I now have gotten all of that out of my nervous heart, I guess I'm done babbling. If you have any questions/comments/suggestions or whatever, feel free to review. I might answer or then I might not. I'm still a bit new to this fanfiction thing so I'm looking for my own way of doing things.

Wish me luck.

Disturbed

Silence.

Blackness.

The void of life and movement. This was where the Decepticon had found his place to rest.

Time had lost its meaning to him a long time ago. He only wanted to be left alone. He only wanted to rust away in the silence that surrounded him.

So there he was. All alone. In the silence.

How long had it been? It must have been years. It must have been. But the memory was still fresh, like it had happened just yesterday. He had gotten away. He had. The first years had been spent waiting for them to show up, the enemy. They must have known where he was. But they never came. And the memory was still fresh in his processors.

He had sought a place to rest. He just wanted to be left alone. Years had passed. A decade might have gone, he wasn't sure anymore. He had been there to see the Fallen fall and the word of the death of both Sentinel and Megatron had reached his processors. And then, he had thought, was his turn. It had been his turn to slink away, out of the busy world of the organics. He had let his consciousness slip in hopes of never waking up ever again.

Silence.

Suddenly, a disturbance. A rapid beating of an organic heart. Feather light steps from somewhere close. A soft touch. Death of silence. An organic palm touching him, coaxing him out of the stupor he had forced himself. Someone opened his door, something living slipped into him.

Should he act? Should he rip the living thing out of him and break it down? Should he do something?

He felt a little warm ball of flesh curl into his seat. It was trembling in him. Uneven breaths echoed in the vast space surrounding them. He didn't move. After all the years he wasn't even sure if he still was able to. Maybe he had rusted into a statue of a dead car. Maybe. He couldn't find it in him to care. And as the breathing of the organic calmed down he found himself letting go once again. Falling back into the dreamless sleep, hoping it would be the last time he got online again.

And the organic was there. Sleeping soundly in him. The forgotten Decepticon.