Sanity
G1
Words: 176
It was overrated by far, this thing that mechs called 'sanity'. He masqueraded as such when he was on base and around all but the one mech who had known him most of his activation. Black and white plating shuddered under his digits in something far from pain even as he scored protoform metal, his orange optics bright with his lack of stability. He had discarded his visor almost as soon as the door had locked behind them. The only reason he had it was to hide his madness from the rest of the Cybertronian race. Only around Prowl did he not hide who he was, behind a mask that even Sunstreaker would envy. He knew all their secrets. Prowl knew all their secrets – and his own. But he knew Prowl's secrets too and they made sure to keep each other's secrets close. He laughed loudly, his madness echoing around Prowl's sound-proofed. The Datsun moaned as digits dug into sensitive plating over scars and still healing wounds. He wasn't quite all there in the processor either.