Hey everyone I'm back! I'll be updating more over the summer. But I felt I'd include this story I wrote back in March as a Welcome to Summer read... Although the initial first chapter is not all that welcoming... Actually Note this is Tissues Party Train on your way, so yeah get your tissue box ready. Someones going to be spilling out tears... Or is it just me?

Alright I don't have a lot to say other than HAPPY SUMMER.. Also can you believe I almost posted this Fathers Day, oh what a joy trip that would be for dads... Sorry Any fathers who read this... Uh happy fathers day, uh hug your kids after this, at least I know you probably will want to.

Also the first chapter was longer, but over fathers day while rereading this. I liked how I ended this part of the chapter and decided I'd just end it here and have the next chapter be the rest of the first chapter just with a new title to it.

With that I will mention I don't own or take liberties for any characters or settings in the transformers universe especially when related to RID15. There are no original characters in this chapter... So no worries for those who hate oc's you can enjoy this chapter without worrying about them (a little bit here for everyone) Oh but do be warned character death...

With that I bid thee adieu, but again remember TISSUE PARTY!

Charades End For Good!

Chapter 1: Fatal Weakness

It wasn't supposed to turn out like this.

No, he was supposed to stay back, stay safe with his father.

He was only a child. Just a young boy. A mere human mechling.

But would Russell listen, no. Of course not. He's too much like Miko that way. Bumblebee sneered to himself as he looked up from bellow the viaduct. His spark pounding, trying to remember what led to this moment.

Sure Russell had an obsession, he may have helped feed his obsession with collecting things from every battle. But the boy was a human sparkling; young mechs and human boys often find themselves exploring their awe and curiosity in the world by collecting this and that. Finding a hobby to feed their need to understand what's around them. It's meant to keep the wonder alive for the young.

Now he regretted ever being an affluent mech and adult in his affliction. It only would lead to trouble. And Denny had known this, long before Bumblebee himself stubbornly came to admit it.

Now this.

How stupid could Russell be? Was his obsession, his damn collection really all that important that he'd endanger not only the teams lives but his own by running in the midst of battle just for a new addition for his collection?

No he never thought he'd be that senseless. Though like a certain someone, he oddly had trouble following someone's orders. Even if said orders should come from his own sire.

He should have known, as he had learned with Miko years ago.

Always keep one eye watching from behind, a thing carriers always seemed to know.

Never take one's eyes off sparkling's, or trouble will be at hand.

Now more than ever he knew this to be true. Russell was smart, to clever in fact. He managed to give his own father the slip.

Why did he not understand, his orders were only given in his best interests. Sure his father had assisted a great many times in the heat of battles, but he was far from a sparkling. No Denny was a fully grown man and sire. He knew his limits and had his skills that were well equipped for certain instances. That's to say it never came to life and death. Denny knew when and where to admit it was time to lay low and hide in battle. Russell was far too eager to be in the heat of it.

Again like someone else he happened to know.

But this thought couldn't bring a smile to his face, not now as he glared through the smoggy air, of the hard worked factory. Air that very well could singe the skin, let alone his plates and armor it was all too hot.

There standing above him, with a wicked glimmer of the damned stood Saberhorn all to proudly. Holding the far too delicate human sparkling, his friend, and Denny's son Russell. With a grip that in an instant could snap him clear in half spine to rib like a twig of a dying tree.

For once, he had to admit defeat, Saberhorn had the one thing he could not bear to lose. And that was the life of another comrade and friend.

"I did what you ordered." humbly he pleaded. "Now let the human go." Giving his all in order to prosper within his own concern, but wain at giving signs of rage, in fear of what it could bring out in such a deranged mech. Something inside of him was screaming from the moment he jumped 'Don't trust a Decepticon. Never trust the wicked beast. Never trust a Decepticon. Never!" Over and over it went like a broken record in his head, it took nearly everything in his fighting resolve to focus on anything except those repeated words.

"Business first" Saberhorn sang in that taunting way he hated like he hated Starscream's nail grinding voice.

"Your interference has delayed my mission." he declared as if to indict for wrongs. "Time to end our match."

Bumblebee's fears escalated as Saberhorn's body, with Russell still in his resolving hold as judge and executioner, moved from his view bellow the viaduct, towards the large cauldron bubbling like a mighty stew.

There was a moment he heard what could be described as a growl, but if he wasn't misconstrued by his sensors, he was certain to have detected tone. If he wasn't mistaken it sounded like the growlish sound affirmed "For good!"

Before anyone could count the number of seconds in a Cybertronian klik, there was a stiffening yelp as the creaking latches of the factories metal rivers opened, flowing once more with their molten hot riches, and creeping ever so carefully down the viaduct. Like a waterfall spills over a cliff, it bore across the steep divide, accelerating its speeds or so it seemed, towards the newest victim to taste its bitter bite.

"Scrap" the molted mettle was on either side of him, there was nowhere to run, except for up. He dove back to the far wall ready for the impossible, ready to avoid being burned alive if at all possible.

One foot forward, one firm grip, and it seemed another step back. The climb against the far wall was unbearable. He wondered what the humans would make of the newfound molds in the siding of their viaduct. Although now was not the time for such wondrous thoughts.

Straining to remain in the climb or to keep himself up and not slip even if just an inch, his body shook. Giving it his all, with everything in the smallest parts of his spark he used all he had to remain plastered upon the wall like glue. One step then another, that's what he kept repeating to himself to overcome this deed, as he continued to make one step and then the other, and yet even then he found himself barely half the way from reaching the top and what came with it. To reach the top meant one less step before gunning for the dastardly Decepticon, and rescuing their human friend.

Standing with worthy esteem at the foot of the sheer drop, Saberhorn took pride in watching his enemy struggle to the top, to survive, and to rescue his disgustingly nimble human pet.

"Even if you were to somehow climb out dear rival, I'd only deposit you back in."

His smile widened, with all the more malicious intent. Such a smile that would make their long lost leader almost proud at the attempt to match the menace of his own fatal smile and laugh.

"I'll be staying to make certain of your demise."

Overhead, the tangled knot that Grimlock and Strongarm were unfortunately wrapped within began to move with order and certainty. It was nothing new, they had been doing so for quite some time. The moment Russell had been taken hostage, both of them struggled in their restraints to move, to break free. But for Strongarm it felt like so much more. The moment their little Russell sat in the clutches of that maniac something maternal snapped within her. Suddenly she was doing everything in her power that she could muster to break free, to make it down there, and like a hungry bear rip the maniac who had her Russell to scraps. Even then she was certain she'd break such scraps into tiny bits for the fish.

As Grim turned to his law abiding comrade moments into their heavy untimely struggle, his eyes glowed with hope at the sudden prospect laying before his eyes, if only just in his reach. "You think you could-"
He may not have needed to finish as she seemed to complete the question for him with a strained moan and definite answer, in her failed attempt to again break free. "Maybe!"

There was a number of moments they shared, in which one or both profanely cursed at a moment in time. It took forever, but with one last heavy groan they managed to reach it, Grimlocks heavy stature acting like a wrecking ball propelled them far enough, and with all she had within her Strongarm slid her fingers upon the cold clean metal, that nearly shot a shiver down her form. They had it! She gasped with surprise and adoration to Primus at the recollection of the thought, the kid would be rescued, it was only a matter of time, and he would be safe once more.

If only they could linger in the moment with that sort of feeling. It felt good, after completely messing up to have done something right as a team, like they should be.

Bellow them Saberhorn laughed with a gentleman's cutesy, "Take solace in the fact that you were defeated by a 'true warrior'." He mocked, as if this was no more of a query and afterthought then a gentleman's game he happened to best.

"And a Gentlecon." Yet another matter proving he thought this more than a gentleman's game, as sick as the thought made Denny. A man who made it his life duty towards despising such snobbish brutes who played this besting ritual in-order to prove how better they are to all beneath and lowly to them.

That moment was all she needed. Without means for conviction or doubt to betray her, Strongarm looked to Grim with determination of a vengeful beast. "Now Grim!"

In an instant the brightly colored button was held, and in that instant, followed by their momentum of his strong body, the duo flung forward, ready to collide with the cruel mech standing proud and smug bellow their heavy servos.

They were near enough, their momentum carrying them across the way or so it had. Their momentum carried them inches past him, feet from reaching his small frame and pulling Russell out of the brute's mighty grip without the impromptu matter of killing him in the process.

Instead they flew past the center of the viaduct, into a sharp and painful beam the moment they realized they miss aimed, and crashed into the large cylinder casing of reactor equipment.

Moans like a haunted village echoed quietly in the distance where they landed. While the rope that held them slightly ripped meter by meter from its base during the fall beyond their destination. In the process as if some act of Primus, it's length had come near their humble leader who gripped it praising the heavens for such luck. To Saberhorn's utter disdain, if he had a chance to take notice, however his gaze was upon the very imbeciles who tried flattening him for the child moments before.

"You dare attempt to strike me?" he screams at the injured comrades laying limply to the side. "Your either undeniably brave or oh so foolish." His fists tightened, Russell squealed panicking as he struggled for air, in just that moment.

His focus had fallen away from the Autobot leader, and instead and drifted towards the amateurs. Bumblebee took a moment to breath as he paused looking to the enemy who did what many had learned, never piss off an Autobot. Especially when said Autobot came from Team Prime.

He didn't need to overhear the squeal in order to fuel his spring into action. He was already half way there. In the exact moment Saberhorn loosened his grip, realizing he was harming his only prize against the bots, did he hear the roaring tread echoing off the metal walls of someone spurting quickly ahead like a stamped focused on him.

Turning he had little time to react, as Bumblebee lunged bending into the ground and suddenly leaped with a spring kick, flinging the blasted con several feet back. The momentum was surprising, and rather caught him off guard.

It took that moment, and only just a moment as he flew across the room, heading towards a hefty wall for all hell to break loose. Momentarily, in the midst of his surprise, his hand began to loosen feeling the Autobot pet, as the boy screamed with fear slowly slip from his grasp. And just that moment stuck in un-moving paradox for an all to vigilant Bee to notice this certain feet.

He dove for his friend, just as the Decepticon reached on ahead.

Bee could see him his hand stretched forward, both reaching for the other. They might have been inches, possibly meters away, yet he swore he could feel his steady breath upon his fingertips.

When as if a magic trick, out of thin air Saberhorn determinedly threw his hand forth snatching the moment they were caught in time, taking the human away with him. And in that instant they landed with a heavy thick thud into the beams of a mettle wall.

The walls cracked and creaked, dust rose up and old factory supplies became debris flinging every which way.

Grim was in the process of aiding Strongarm to her feat, yet her eyes were fixed far in the distance as Bee was near catching their friend, it was only a moment, but it was a moment taken away all to quick. To her horror and she was sure his father's nightmare Saberhorn recaptured Russell. They flew the distance back, colliding into the hefty wall, and causing debris of every kind to spray every which way. Her mouth opened as if to scream, yet not a sound seemed to escape.

The sound of the thunderous crash, brought Grim to turn with unrequited shock to the same setting that suddenly began to clear.

Sitting covered in the folly of dust and other things Saberhorn clung to the human child, coughing as his skin paled to their dread.

Something was wrong, they knew it. By the tick of a second, each of them were on their feet. Denny had struggled to find his way off the storage shelves, and labored to reach the human sized blaster Fixit and him were working on, to keep him safe when he was in the midst of a mission.

Now he would test the unused device he was certain to save his own sons life. 'Oh God I pray it works.' He thought to himself as he knew he didn't have time to worry over the distance he would need to be in order for such a device to work. He had a long ways to run in order to get within firing range, regardless of what he wanted to admit. The bots had better luck at saving his son then he had a chance of doing at the moment.

Russell felt cold, yet hot at the same time. An odd reality and paradox in itself, but he felt them equally existing within him as if being part of the Sahara and Arctic Tundra at the same time. His skin was covered in soot, but the air felt harder to breath as if to suck in would chock him to death, and to cease to breath would break his chest in two. His abdomen hurt like a thousand bullets and several dozen knifes piercing his back. Then there was that feeling of warm liquid other than saliva coating over his chin as he coughed, his arm covered his mouth when he struggled, feeling a large dastardly cough make its way out of his lungs. Quickly he felt the same warm bitter substance with distaste, and all to soon moved to wipe it from mind and thought. As the sleeves of his security jacket met his lips, he felt an odd saltiness to the strange liquid, and quickly locked his eyes on the now coated back of his sleeve.

Upon his confusion, he found dread in mere seconds. While his eyes were slow to fixate, it took only a few blurred moments to take note of the color painted upon his navy uniform where an unnatural shade of spit, gunk and crimson stained his jacket. Gasping in horror his chest continued to force him to hack away the mess, but as he looked to his mouth feeling a warm trickle from the corner of his lips he looked up praying for others to distill his fear. Unable to quit hacking, his eyes were met with a familiar dread and fear confirming this unwanted reality as he met the horror in everyone's eyes.

Indeed, it was horror, but it was more than that. Denny was not yet close enough to completely see, however the Autobots could see it plainly. After hacking for several strained moments, as his fist backed away and within a raw ruby color which stained the lines of his lips there also lay as a reminder a slight trail of blood seeping from the corner of his cracked dry lips. Something was wrong, Russell was hurt or worst. He needed a hospital. And soon their sparks began to thud with panic.

Never had Saberhorn felt more ignored while he witnessed everyone's eyes staring upon the child once the dust had settled. Yet the irritable coughing of the weakling brought the crimson spring falling from his mouth to his attention, and with a welcomed gleam he knew he had won this battle at last.

Although there was the sting he felt from his head or warmth he felt upon his own lips, the child's situation happened to remind him of his own strange feeling. Bringing his fist towards his lip, his tongue also curiously roamed with fervor and his smile grew with a gleam not even Megatron could beat but could possibly rival even the mighty Unicron.

His voice roared no longer with that gentlemech appeal he held up to this moment. No, this laugh was more psychotic and demonic, deep and guttural, growing in range and dynamic dominion the longer he held it. This was the song of true evil, and here it was alive within a maniac who dare call himself a gentlemech.

"Well I'm afraid it's been fun" his chuckle roared with life as if it would bring forth the gates of hell. "But I'm afraid-" His arm reached for the sword he drew from behind his wing, the motion was caught in seconds that felt like minutes they all stood frozen as if molded into clay.

It all happened far too quick. Strongarm was racing across the room with Bumblebee and Grim by her side, as Denny came from the left. But they were too far in the distance and it already was too late.

His sharp blade met the nap of the child's neck. "This game has got to end. And being the gentlemech I am, I know when to call it an end."
"Russell!" everyone in one singular voice screamed. His father reaching forward, horror striking Strongarm, Grim gasped almost sliding to a stop, and Bee gripped his fists contemplating what to do from here.

It couldn't be what they were seeing. Russell screamed, he struggled against the sharp edges that could easily sever his head from his body.

"Eh," he gurgled the blade just nipping at his neck, and yet he could already feel the thin sheer cut it had no trouble in creating. "No, that would be far too easy."

Suddenly his smile nearly demonized with delight, as he made a quick switch his hand holding Russell by the hair on his head so everyone could watch him struggle and dangle like a child's play thing. Then it happened Saberhorn's arm raised, the sword gleaming in the smothered light, and with a childish cry hardly released Russell never could know what came next.

Suddenly the sharp Decepticon weapon collided with his flesh breaking through his tiny chest, like a javelin possibly crushing his tiny little bones in its wake.

And one last horrid scream echoed from across the room, bouncing off every wall, without a knowing owner.

Russell gasped his eyes widening with horror and recognition. Then, without a warning slowly his body drooped falling towards the hand that Saberhorn laid him upon, with his deadly glower to the soldiers standing before him speechless.

It was slow, he was like a doll. Releasing his sword from the child's chest, Saberhorn quickly jostled it out of his fleshy body and dropped him from his hands letting him fall upon the ground.

There were no movements, nor sounds from his lips. His mouth lay slightly open, as if to state something in a matter of seconds, but no words would come to escape. His eyes were glazed, their gleam was lost as his head landed first, creating a cloud of dust in its wake. His body like a doll dancing as it met with the ground. Yet nothing but by force moved with life. Blood that had only been a little before began to drain in a tiny line from his thin smooth lips.

With a joyous moan, as if being satisfied by the results Saberhorn brought his now filthy sword upon his lips, parting them as he drew the blood within his mouth, still warm, still fresh and oh so salty. He almost could dazzle in how similar and different the thrill of drawing a humans blood to an Autobots was.
The room fell silent as Denny fell to the ground, the mech moved his now stained fingers towards his lips sucking the red fluid of the human boy clearly off with a steady suck and hefty lick.

"Ooh-" he moaned to himself, "truly a magnificent fatal weakness in deed."

Chuckling to himself, he noticed the glimmer as the Autobot leader reached for his own sword with a animalistic growl.

Strongarm screamed a defining wail that would make the banshee's proud. One could have sworn it was her own sparkling she lost by the passion and strength within such a cry of horror.
Grim barley could muster a word, struggling for answers for a moment of reality as he struggled most of all to speak his friends own name.

It all was that fatal push which fueled his next action. Bee held bitterly onto his deepest rage as to coax the night into light by the grip of his sword, his rage blazing like no fires that the Universe had thus far bore.

"You butcher! I'm going to kill you!" His voice ravaged in the depths of the factory's hold.

Pushing off like a mighty nuke ready for its kill. He let his denial push him forward, he was a rocket taking off to space. He refused to see Russell as dead he was injured, he was brutally attacked, but he wasn't dead, he couldn't be. Russell was here, he was alive just moments ago he was alive.

'There is no pain, no tears to cry and reason to shed them. The kid couldn't-can't be dead; he just couldn't be. Russell!' his mind swore even as he swore against it. The basic facts or rather refusing to believe them, tears of blue energon formed in the sharp corner of his optics. But they were quickly brushed away with the rush of air as he neared the assailant and his targeted kill.

Saberhorn never lost his smile.

Years later Bumblebee would spend hours alone exploring the thought, that maybe, as he so claimed Saberhorn that night had always been one step ahead, and planned what came next. But at that moment, nothing readied him as the smile quickly disappeared, and the structure behind the cocky snob of a mech was revealed to be nonexistent since his crash into the side and he slipped without a struggle out in to the night air.

When Bumblebee was just in a hairs grasp of his previous spot where the brute noted he killed their pet, the pitiful weakling of a human. He took off sharp into the air with a jolly salute, cocky bow and wicked gleam he hovered in the air. "Well as said, I must be off. A fine duel indeed this was kind sir. You proved to be amusing adversaries to say the least. But hardly worthy of my time or the means of such a title. Till next time" he bowed flinging his hand beneath his abdomen with the other arm struck out. "I bid thee, my fine adversaries adieu."

With that and a sudden blast he was off, lost into the skies.

Bumblebee raced forth, unable to except the menace had run like a coward, when the fight now had barely begun, given the newest circumstances.

Screaming with all the rage a mech could possibly hold, far deeper than his hatred for Megatron and wielding all the power in his swing, he flung his sword in defiance to the floor stabbing it as if he could break the earth with the act of such a deed.

His hands clenched the grip with everything he had as he knelt over his knees angered and lost. It couldn't end like this, how could it end like this.

Breathing heavily, he finally found the means to morn, found the tears coming to his eyes as he struggled to contain his ravaged rage. His hands gripped the ground, tore the grass and did everything to beat at the floor that sat within his complete reach.

No one dared to speak or move for many seconds, watching through the broken hole their leader act completely insane, and yet acting with all the hate they could contain at that very moment.

It took several trice's later, out of shock for what occurred, being able to cope, morn, and worry for their mighty leader. But finally one by one they managed to put one heavy shaking foot in front of the other and make their way to their still silent friend.

Denny was the first to move and able to manage such an act. Reality struck as he watched the stiff figure in the room, the figure who had moments ago been his son, and now lay lifeless as he slowly approached.

This couldn't be so.

He wasn't that old. It wasn't long ago his now ex-wife sat in their car screaming as he tried desperately to get to the hospital. That she clung and nearly killed the both of them by pulling his hair or holding whatever piece of him that she could grip. How it seemed they'd never get to the hospital, and then with gladness they did. There were the hours of wait, hours of sitting with her, nearly getting killed, being allowed to call the family and then the next second have his hand crushed and he was sure he'd feel the repercussions of her grip for life.

Although the journey to get there was scary. The initial news that his son hadn't fully positioned all correctly, with everything in his will power it took everything not to panic that his son was a breached baby. They had to rush his wife into the ER, his hand constantly on her as the surgery was performed, as the minutes felt like hours and hours like days. When finally, they untangled his son from his umbilical cords brought him out of his mother's womb, and though it was gentle there was a strong and steady cry growing in its strength by the ever growing passionate moments.

And finally it happened his breathless wife sat bellow him as he smiled at her and heard the wailing of his son.

He knew like his mother his boy would be a stubborn bugger and a curious adventures scoundrel like his old man. He knew it that moment like many fathers could dictate something worth note of their own children.

Now that moment seemed dead, his marriage went on the rocks maybe it already had been before his son was brought into the world. No now he was a divorcee sharing custody while his son sat once again silent and still like that moment at his birth. Only difference was this was no birth. His son was pierced with a sword. He sat still, his chest refused to rise and fall, not that it ever would again.

Dropping to his knees, his hands gently wrapped against his boy, feeling his son's smooth hair in his own hands for possibly the last time. His body felt limp and so much lighter than he remembered in his arms. It would be hours before he'd become heavy with rigor mortis, he preferred this more than anything.

"Please" he cried clinging to his son's head wrapping his arms around him bring his head to rest against his shoulder. "Please."

"Russell, please don't go." he cried further, quietly so the moment was only theirs to be shared.

Nothing felt worst, felt more life threatening and deadly as the moment of losing a child.

Bumblebee heard the silent tears echoing from behind him, slowly finding himself turning to find as if a glowing portrait Denny holding his son close, cuddling him in his arms. "Russell, my Rusty, my-my-Rus-Rus-Russell. Russell. Oh Russell. Russell." his broken voice pleaded quietly in the dead air.

"Russell!' Denny continued to cry weakly, his voice cracked, full of despair and drained of fluids, or of any other reality other than his son in his arms.

Desperately Bumblebee wanted to turn away, the moment felt uncomfortable and quiet. It felt rude to watch or intrude upon as if it was a custom of this planet. Though he knew it wasn't. He just didn't want to see it, the pit in his stomach didn't want to feel the same sickening guilt that wrenched him like no other death. There a young boy, a human child lay impaled, lifeless without movement. Like a doll, he lay weakly as so many comrades he had seen fall in the senseless war that had once more begun.

Gathering all his willpower and strength, Bumblebee made his way back within the warehouse, dragging his feet as he went on. 'So much death, so many countless dead, how many in vain?' He thought to himself as he managed his way inside.

His body worked for him, kneeling by the bloodstained ground reflecting his miserable condemned face back up at him, only in a crimson reflection. He didn't know what to think.

"Primus why? Why?" He scowled to the sky, crying more for himself then those around him to hear. "Primus answer me, tell me why? Why? Primus why? Why? He's only a little boy, a human sparkling? Why do this, why take him from us? PrimDammit why?"

Everyone watched him with worry and heavy burdening sorrow as his body shook. While they witnessed their leader with concern and dread. They all felt just as sore as him, but nothing could feel worst then living with the guilt he felt, if he was a second quicker Russell would still be alive, he would have survived, he would have grown into a young man, ready to take on this world. He would in his own time have married had his own sparkling's, grown old and lived a complete life. Of course there would always be a threat from the Decepticons in his life, but he would learn how to protect his lively hood in the process when they are one day no longer there to help. Or so he hoped. It wasn't like it had done anything for the humans of Team Prime. The nights still haunt him, as the questions remain unanswered. Some day's when he is most alone, he can still see their ghosts as he yells at them as to where they have gone, where they are and have been. And his eyes focus on the missing posters with despair. Not even the human military they once knew seemed to be around, at least the team devoted to protecting them. Whether disbanded or in hiding, things never added up and he always concerned over the worst of circumstances.

"No." his body shook, he knew it wasn't his fault, but it didn't make him feel any less guilty, and less forgiving to himself or the man who killed him.

This was partially his doing, he wasn't fast enough and because of it they all paid horribly.

Somehow, though he didn't know where Denny got such strength, his stiff hands, shaking in the process as he gently let his son go, dropping him in the puddle of his own blood slowly drying on the ground. How many earth hours passed he wasn't sure? But watching Russell lay there cold and dead he felt unnatural. Denny seemed to take a steady step away, as he wobbled to a shelf, gripping it having trouble standing as if to allow Bee a moment alone as well.

He felt this seemed all too familiar, he still remembered years ago when Raf had been near death, how he scooped him up gently as he was currently scooping Russell. His body was light and yet heavy all at once, and yet it looked as if he were merely asleep. He felt his limp body in his hands, how light he was, and how weak. Why did he have to be stupid like Miko once had been. He wasn't Miko, he couldn't just find ways out of incidences, not like she miraculously had and could find, beyond all belief.

He reminded him so much of his old friends, and though he tried he hadn't been able to find word of them anywhere. Every thought brought him back to them, it hurt to even mention. It was there fault for calling away Ratchet when they may have needed him most. They had no protection and when he eventually returned himself to earth he found with dread they had been missing for over a year. Now what remained of them and memories of them was only missing posters and further heartache. He hated to think once they were gone, something happened, something came and tore them apart, as they did… as they did to... Russell.

He couldn't hold him, not anymore more. That thought, that single thought was all too much. He still didn't know what happened to the old gang. "I'm sorry" he coughed, laying Russell back on the ground, allowing his father to pick him up again when he managed to stumble over his own unwilling feet back to his side. It felt unnatural, it couldn't feel right to hold him, to see him like this. He wanted him living, not like the boy currently dead. He couldn't remember him like this, who would want to?

"Autobots lets go home." he moaned, not feeling like making a witty motto anymore. His eyes looked towards his friend, his now quiet companion, holding his son crying on the ground.

Yet no one moved, so he transformed back. They would tell him when they were ready, he only hopped it was before dawn.

Denny's hand continued to roam his sons face, he touched his cheek surprised by how cold it was. His fingers paused resting on the eyelids, as he began to close his eyes, surprised he hadn't done so yet. It made him wonder if they had been open in that same shock and yet peacefulness before? He wanted to laugh finding it funny he might have never felt uneased by his eyes or noticed such weary gleams staring up at him. If only he had the strength to laugh, his son would have liked him to he was sure.

Pausing he froze his sky blue eyes were staring up at him like the baby he once pointed to in the infirmary when his niece asked curiously about her cousin. He couldn't touch them. It scared him, the thought that he was gone, that these clouded eyes would soon be lost, forever. The unfathomable possibility became his transgression that should he come to close them it may mean he'd lose sight of their sporadic wonder forever.

"Russell" he chocked the tears pouring over him once more. He didn't have the strength to walk, or the means to move from his place.

It took several more moments or maybe they were hours' no one could actually be sure. It's not like it really mattered, as they felt far too long regardless of what they were.

Eventually they managed to transform, ready to head back, although it took what felt like hours to manage the feet. The dawn wasn't far from rising to a new day, only a few hours more and it would be light on the horizon.

Might I be evil... I don't know... You tell me ;) MAHAHAHA!

A little back ground, while watching this episode I almost had the feeling they were going to go there. Even though it was unlikely it felt this way. I mean the character seemed like he could do such... By the way Saberhorn is now one of my favorite Decepticons I love how he holds honor in battle and won't strike someone in the back... It's surprisingly refreshing for a new Decepticon Character... Though I'm still Autobots all the way...

I don't have much to say, other than I hoped you enjoyed.

Next chapter the rest of the team will discover the news of Russell's death. Lets just say I have a scene with Fixit that even just the notes portion in my story board I was crying while writing...

Now I just want to warn those of you who don't like oc's that I will have oc's coming up eventually. Just fair warning ahead cause it was brought to my attention more then it had before that not every reader is fond of oc's yet mentioned how the circumstances of my last story did dictate an oc to see how outside events occur... But I felt I should mention my reasons for always having an oc as it may defer from the average persons reasons. You see I feel it's hard to call a piece of work my own without having something that I own in it, something or someone I can claim as my own. In other words my own character, it's just how I feel that without it to me it feels like I'm stealing from someones hard work on the show... Now for my long time followers you may know I tend to have oc's follow a similar look. This is only because I'm familiar with these features in people around me and I'm comfortable with drawing such features for art reasons later. You see, often times I use people in my life to help me dictate how I'm basing a character. Although in the last few years I have gone outside these borders, tried my hand at different people which I attempted early on but struggled with since it was my first time on and I didn't have the grips to handle so many characters (which I will go back and work on these old works soon I promise I haven't forgotten them, just embarrassed by my horrid grammar and sometimes rushed story)... But that's just my mindset. Please don't get mad I respect your beliefs I just as you respect mine with using oc's in turn...

**Oh and before I go I'd like to mention a old family friend, whose daughter was one of my best friends growing up just passed away. I was lucky to see her for the first time in years literally the day upon which she later passed. We sang hymns and songs to her as she lay unconscious in her living room. I felt blessed to have that moment but also give a shout out to her daughter in Chile who unfortunately was not able to be around as she's doing great work with building homes down there. I pray for the family and her both as loosing a mother just like loosing a child is this worst. If you are still reading this I ask humbly that you go hug your mother, fathers and or whatever form of a parent (whether sibling, guardian, grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles) you have, no matter where you stand with them. Because you never know when it will be to late and you won't have the chance to tell that role model in your life all they mean to you, or even those who are providing and or gave you life. One day you will wonder what if you had the time to say buy or say thanks, so please do this, that way you know at one point you showed them in the humblest way you could.