not so far from now
Transformers Prime © Hasbro
Shelf
Fowler didn't really pay attention to what was left in the Cold War base after all the weaponry and other things were cleared out. Maps that they didn't really need, a few books, an old TV set, and a massive bookshelf. He just had them shove everything in a back room for later disposal.
The kids found it eventually. They dragged the TV out in the main room, pinned a few maps in odd places (or, in Miko's case, drew on them). The books weren't touched as often, but he saw a few strewn around the human-sized platforms.
The bookshelf is still in the room.
The top shelf is covered in pictures: Optimus looking stoic, and just one or two with his face set in a tiny smile; plenty of Bulkhead, from just his face to his alt mode to his array of battle scars; of Rafael and Bumblebee playing their videogames together, and quite a few with them just talking; Arcee and Jack making serious poses for the first half, then silly poses for the next.
On the second, there's a clumsily-made Autobot symbol from ceramics class; a box filled with tools and parts that humans can prepare and use; a first aid kit for humans only; a handful of notes on different variations of Cybertronain anatomy.
On the third, there are more parts; a book with pages covered in Cybertronain glyphs, along with a handful of English translations; three laptops gathering dust in the back; a pair of fuzzy dice, still with a tacky happy birthday! -J ribbon on one side.
It fills up slowly, but he only checks on it once in a while. He usually forgets about it entirely. But it boosts his mood every time he remembers.
Can't
The Jackhammer's viewscreen is melted into slag, but she knows they're falling.
Not they. She. Wheeljack—she can't see a lot, but she can see something that looks like a melted arm.
That would make sense, because the—the heat—he was in front when something—
Miko hears voices.
Optimus, it's Optimus, there's something still working.
"Wheeljack, Mi—" static. "—The Jackhammer, can you—" static.
Her mouth won't move. Someone else is speaking—Ratchet—
"Please respond—"
She can't. She can't.
She hears them all, but they're too slow to work it out. She feels the ground coming closer, and she can't feel much else anymore.
She remembers what Wheeljack told her at the start.
"This will probably go—" Pause. "…Bulk would want you to forget about him and live."
She shuts her eyes.
"…I can't."
Gray
They had seen cities fall under waves of bombs and missiles.
They had returned to their homes too late, finding nothing but piles of scrap and molten slag.
They had seen so many places with the glyphs spelling out 'no survivors', first over viewscreens and commlink systems, then carved into broken metal over mass graves as the war went on. More times than they could count.
They had watched their entire world crumble and die, saw their numbers reduced to dust, and believed that was the worst thing they could ever go through.
Seeing the space where their charges, their children had gone to learn, a mix of molten red and dead grey…
The reports are in, the newsanchors are spreading the word: no survivors.
…this felt so much worse.
Stars
The little girl suddenly realized—he thought she was a pet. After all, the giant hands that were holding her were like how the teacher held sometimes held Timothy, the class hamster. She didn't really understand why, though—he didn't even ask, he just picked her up out of the back yard.
"Hey." Nothing. "Hey! You stole me!" The red eyes stayed as blank as ever, focused on something in the trees she couldn't see.
Maybe he couldn't hear her. He sometimes made weird sounds and looked up, as if he wanted to jump into the sky.
It wasn't very fun, but that was alright. Her mommy would call the police and they'd find her. Or get the big truck and drive after him herself! It was fun to ride in the big truck, even though it didn't go super fast. He wasn't walking that fast, anyway.
…In fact, he wasn't walking at all. Just standing.
The giant robot suddenly looked at her. "Human. They…they wouldn't leave a human to…"
His voice sounded funny.
And suddenly there was a boom, and she found herself stuck in a pile of branches.
She was in a tree. She was good at climbing trees, not so good at getting out of them. Looking down, she saw the giant robot was on the ground.
"Hey. Hey, mister! Can you hear me? I'm stuck!"
The noises started again. He said something, but all she could hear was "Comm—Commander Stars—" before he got quiet again.
Maybe he was sick, like the old car was. They had to throw that one away, though, because it couldn't deal with the dirt roads and nature stuff. She didn't really want the funny robot to get thrown away.
She couldn't get down, so she tried to get Stars to talk more. He wouldn't. His glowy eyes were still working, though, and she knew that falling asleep when your head gets hit is bad, so she kept talking. Even when the real stars came out and it got colder.
Maybe the police would come, even, like in the TV shows. A helicopter would be fun, although she assured him that his hands were much cooler.
A helicopter wasn't what came, though. Instead, there was a really cool glow, brighter than the stars and Stars' eyes together. Another giant robot stepped out.
Bigger than Stars, and maybe scarier because of it, but she knew that he was here to save them.
Questioning
They think about what might've happened in the years—centuries—millennia (and even that makes them whisper god, or sometimes Primus, how long has it been going on?) since the war began. How many partners they lost. How long the team had been together through it.
They stare at their ceilings as their alarm clocks go from midnight to 3:45 to 6:00 and it's time to go to do what they always do.
They don't ever say anything. Their guardians notice after a while, but hey, they'd had a scare. Optimus was gone for a while. Everyone was stressed.
And that was the problem, really. Everyone had been thrown off. Everyone had been so angry and emotional and under the surface they were terrified, every last one. Like realizing your parents were only human for the first time.
The three had dealt with that before. Parents who left, parents who had no problems with shipping them away, parents who sometimes went days without speaking to them and didn't even realize it. And they knew that their great guardians could get sick, could get dizzy, could die, but they had never been like that. They had been barely holding themselves together.
And they, the kids, were the ones who spoke up and got them focused.
It was terrifying, in a way. After all, they were squishy humans, the others were giant robots who could level buildings by accident.
The kids were protectors as much as Optimus was. Optimus Prime gave them hope enough to not fall apart. And now they realized how vital they were in that way now, too.
So when they're asked about their tossing and turning, they don't say it's because they can feel the weight of a responsibility that they hadn't realized was there. They just grin bear it, because they love their guardians and will not lose what they've got.
