Author's Notes: Hi guys! Well, this chapter would probably best be called dramedy, because it doesn't feature just one emotion. Also, while I do mention Headmasters continuity in this chapter, the part where Cybertron blew up doesn't happen in this story for obvious reasons. Anyway, thank you for reading and supporting this story. You guys are a great audience :)


Chapter 2

Someone to Lean On

A vorn, or 84 earth years, passed since the battle of Autobot City and the events that had led Huffer into his current state of malaise. A lot had happened to change Cybertron over the course of a single vorn. The matrix of leadership's collective power had to be dumped in order to save the universe from a hate plague. That meant that while Rodimus and Optimus (who was alive again, if you can believe that), were both called Prime, neither one could actually be a Prime since the title was now meaningless. Rodimus eventually figured that out as well, so he and a small group of Autobots left the planet to search for...eh, Huffer couldn't actually remember why they left, only that they did.

Optimus was eventually killed again by Galvatron, who likewise eventually died. Ever since then leadership changed hands constantly. Fortress Maximus was the last leader whose name Huffer could even remember, but he wasn't currently in charge at the moment. Without a Prime anyone who was strong enough and had enough charisma could be leader, which made the Autobot faction's name, much like the title of Prime, virtually meaningless.

The Decepticons of course went about business as usual, but their numbers were dwindling and many of them didn't even bother staying on the planet. Really, it was amazing how little political discord even mattered to the everyday Cybertronian's life anymore.

Huffer was old enough though that he understood how ignoring the problem could cause another civil war, but he didn't care enough to intervene anymore. His only priority was to earn credits, refuel, find something fun to do, recharge and repeat. He spent most of his orns either searching for odd jobs or doing odd jobs, and then spending his off hours at whatever bar or diner he found himself in.

Huffer repainted himself several times, and a few times even scanned new alt modes. Earth alt modes stuck out like a sore digit anymore, and Huffer didn't like being noticed. The guilt and anguish of his past actions eventually gave way to resignation and monotony as he went about his life. He was a neutral now because despite his desire to belong somewhere he knew deep down that he didn't. Besides, the Autobots weren't the faction they used to be, and he didn't understand these younger models and their odd transformations. Better to just stay out of everything.


One orn he was at Figment's Bar drinking down some high grade after long joors of lifting and setting girders at a construction site. Construction work was one thing Huffer could still count on, especially since that was one skill he felt he was truly designed for. Huffer could only get high grade strong enough to suit him at Figment's. Newer models were installing organic fuel converters and were also being built smaller to conserve energy, so energon wasn't usually refined pure enough to make high grade for older models anymore. Mechs that weren't minibots like Huffer were finding it nearly impossible to get enough fuel to get overcharged.

"Hey, mech. The usual?" Figment asked in his soft raspy voice.

"Yeah, sure," Huffer replied reflexively; used to this bi-ornly ritual, "Any word on work around here? I need another job."

"Well, I don't seem to recall..." Figment replied with a glint in his green optics, "Maybe a few shanix would remind me..."

Huffer growled and dug in his subspace for the credits he would need before Figment would tell him about the latest opportunity in Tarn. He grumbled and was about to hand over the money when the doors swung open and an eerily familiar voice filled the establishment.

"Hey bartender!" The friendly baritone boomed right near where Huffer was sitting at the counter, "I heard from a friend that you sell real high grade around here. How much?"

Huffer shoved the credits back in his subspace, talk of a job completely forgotten. He saw the black jeep-former with his own optics, but he didn't believe it. It was actually Trailbreaker, after all these years.

"High grade is 1 shanix per pint. A full cube'll cost you 640 shanix," Figment drawled, certain a mech that wasn't a regular customer wouldn't be able to afford it.

"640 shanix for one cube of high grade!?" Trailbreaker exclaimed indignantly, "Why I remember when you could get a cube for 47 shanix, and the servers were a lot better looking than you."

"Yeah, sure, whatever old timer," Figment replied dismissively, "If you can't pay for high grade then order something else or get out. I've got customers waiting for me and you won't find high grade as pure as mine anywhere else, so make your choice."

"Hey Figment, I'll buy him a cube," Huffer offered, "Get mine too, while you're at it. I tell you, the service around here gets slower every orn."

"Bah!" Figment waved away the typical bad attitude from his regular customer as he shambled to the back to get the cubes.

"Gee, thanks friend," Trailbreaker smiled gratefully and gestured to a table where they could sit, "It's not too often I see another standard ground build anymore. Sometimes I feel like an old fossil around all these fancy looking kids. My name's Trailbreaker, by the way. What's your name, stranger?"

Huffer smirked to himself. He had painted himself brown with red accents a quarter vorn ago, so it was no wonder Trailbreaker didn't recognize him. Trailbreaker on the other hand didn't look any different. He was still black with silver chrome and still turned into an earth-based jeep. The only difference Huffer could see was the visor. It had once been blue, but now it was a garish red. Wait a second...

"Hey, ain't red a Decepticon optic color?" Huffer asked without telling Trailbreaker his name.

"Not anymore," Trailbreaker replied without taking offense, "Optic color hasn't been a faction indicator for years. I must admit I'm one of the only Autobots in my unit that has a red visor, but I thought I should take the first step in trying to incorporate former Decepticons into our ranks. Our world needs to unify if things are going to get any better. Especially now that there are new factions popping up all over the place. The Pretenders have gained quite a following, and the beast frames seem anxious about their place in Cybertronian society."

The two cubes of glowing purple liquid came, and Trailbreaker drank and talked to his spark's content. Huffer had given him no designation, but it didn't seem to matter to the talkative Autobot. Huffer found himself settling into the conversation and mostly just nodding and listening to the fellow grounder talk about nothing in particular. Huffer was smiling, which was unusual for him these days, but it had been over a vorn since he had associated with any of his old friends. He was glad someone he had known back then had survived and could still be happy even now when everything was changing all around them.

Trailbreaker ordered a second full cube and even paid for it himself, and Huffer nursed his drink since he didn't feel like trying to drive home when he was cratered. Trailbreaker apparently hadn't been able to find high grade for a long time, because his tolerance was much lower than Huffer remembered. In fact, after two cubes Trailbreaker was already overcharged.

"An' so then...Metragon says he'd kill the hostages if we didn' give'em all the energon and...what else wuzzit?" Trailbreaker asked when he forgot where he was in his story.

"And the crystals," Huffer supplemented helpfully.

"Yeah! Thazzit, the crystals," Trailbreaker nodded like a bobble head as he tried to recall the rest of what he was saying, "So friend, it's been fun, but I gots to go. This high grade is excellent. I wanna 'member this..."

"Believe me, you won't," Huffer deadpanned, "You sure you can get home by yourself? I can walk you there if you want. I mean, I got nothin' better to do."

"Thas so nice of you, fella," Trailbreaker replied while giving Huffer a goofy grin, "I'd like that. I live in the Lfwrrr Hotel…"

"The Livewire, got it," Huffer translated the slurring drunk talk as he helped Trailbreaker get out of his chair, "That ain't too far from here, but you know that place is a dump."

"How would you know?" Trailbreaker asked challengingly despite leaning on Huffer for support.

"Because I live there too, rust bucket," Huffer replied with some good natured ribbing, "And unlike you, I ain't leavin' in an orn or two. That's my home. They actually let some mechs rent rooms there on a tri-vornly basis. I live on the bottom floor."

"Oh yeah? I live on a floor too," Trailbreaker laughed despite his words not actually being that funny, "Yeah, third floor. Next to the other rooms."

Huffer sighed longsufferingly and continued to help Trailbreaker walk down the street. It would have been faster if they transformed and drove home, but Huffer was afraid if Trailbreaker transformed he would get stuck or something. Maybe even drive into a pothole and forget he could drive out. Yeah, Huffer was strong, but it didn't mean he relished the idea of carrying a drunken jeep up a flight of stairs to his grimey hotel room.

"Ya know pal, Tarn is so cold," Trailbreaker slurred as they walked down the sidewalk, "I'm used to earth. Earth, well...some places are cold, I guess. Not like this though. No, it's not cold like this. Tarn is so...so, so, cold."

"It ain't that cold," Huffer argued, surprising himself by being the optimist in a conversation for a change.

"Is thuh air," Trailbreaker said drunkenly; his processor trying to put him into recharge, "I miss the earph's air. I miss Daniel, too. You didn't know him. He was a human."

Huffer sighed as he listened to Trailbreaker try to keep himself awake. He actually did remember Daniel. They weren't close or anything, but he remembered. Carly was so excited when she got pregnant with her new sparkling, and watching as the little rugrat grew was an interesting experience at least. Spike was such a proud father, and Daniel had the honor of being the first child on earth to grow up around the Transformers. Now Cybertronians living on earth was no big deal, but back then it had been exciting to see new human life accept them without treating them like a novelty.

Hm, so now they're all gone... Huffer thought ruefully. Spike, Carly, Sparkplug, Daniel...they're all dead. Wow, I always forget how short human life spans are. You'd think they'd do somethin' about that by now...

"You know wuh?" Trailbreaker mumbled, and Huffer hummed an affirmative to indicate he was listening, "You look like someone."

"Everyone looks like someone," Huffer pointed out, and then groaned at how much he sounded like Beachcomber. Pit, why did he keep thinking about that hippie loser?

"Naw, I mean you look like someone I used'ta know," Trailbreaker elaborated, "Yeah, you look like someone I used to work wif on earph..."

Huffer didn't let it show, but he was nervous. He couldn't let Trailbreaker know who he really was. If his team knew he had gone AWOL right before the battle that claimed so many lives he would be court martialed and possibly spend the rest of his life in some lousy prison with a huge savage Decepticon cellmate. Scrap, Huffer needed to come up with a fake name before Trailbreaker figured out the truth!

"Oh, now I 'member the name..." Trailbreaker exclaimed as he lifted his digit in the air in a 'eureka' gesture, "Outback! You look a lot like Outback, except he didn't have a round helm and a trailer hitch..."

"Outback?" Huffer asked despite himself, "Who the flaming pit is Outback? That's the stupidest designation I've ever heard!"

Trailbreaker couldn't answer, however. He had just gone into his recharge cycle in an attempt to help his systems digest all that high grade his frame was no longer used to. Huffer moaned when he realized he would have to carry Trailbreaker up the stairs to his 3rd floor apartment after all. Either that or let Trailbreaker stay in Huffer's ground level apartment, but Huffer wasn't about to let a lush, even one of his former friends, recharge on his couch. It was easier to just carry him up the stairs.