Long chapter this time around - it was originally two, but the second one was so short I merged them together.

It's also a very heavy chapter. Have those tissues ready.

Simple Acts

My Cry For Help

Your time will come if you wait for it, if you wait for it.

It's hard – believe me, I've tried.

But I keep coming up short.

"Amsterdam" - Imagine Dragons

xxXxx

"So... this is your house?" Josh asked. Given his own high-class childhood, he hoped that the comment hadn't come across as condescending.

Johnny's house was... well, it wasn't bad-looking by any stretch of the imagination. It was an attractive shade of green, obviously well cared for, with a healthy-looking lawn stretching out in front of it (Josh was pretty sure the grass was synthetic, but he didn't think it appropriate to ask). But it was a little plain, and kind of small. It didn't really stand out from the other houses in the middle-class district.

Maybe he really was spoiled.

Thankfully, Johnny only nodded. "Yeah... it's a nice, place to live," he said. He turned to Josh, lips curling up in the inception of a smile. "Thanks for coming over." He blurted that second part a little quickly, but Johnny couldn't help himself. He was happy that Josh cared – a little apprehensive, but happy.

Josh gave Johnny a firm pat on the shoulder. "Hey, don't worry about it, dude. I've been wanting to check out your place for a while now."

And hopefully, you'll give me some answers, Josh thought grimly. Part of him felt a little bad, like he was forcing Johnny to talk when he wasn't ready yet. But Johnny had invited him over, and Josh wasn't only in this to get the other boy's story, so he could probably deal. "So, what's on the docket here?" He asked cheerfully, chasing those darker thoughts away.

The two boys started walking up the lawn toward the front door as Johnny replied. "I, uh... haven't thought – thought too hard about that," he admitted. "I have video, video games and some movies, though...

"Oh, I almost forgot," Johnny added suddenly. "I bought some stuff – some stuff for dinner, if you wanna, um, stay for that. You like, burgers?"

"I love them," Josh grinned, and Johnny sighed internally with relief. The idea to make it a dinner date had been spontaneous, born shortly after Josh had agreed to come over, and Johnny was a little afraid it would backfire – a ridiculous fear, apparently.

Johnny unlocked the front door and beckoned Josh inside, following behind him shortly. "I'm home," he mumbled under his breath.

Josh turned to look at him. "Hmm?"

"Ah, nothing," Johnny answered quickly. "So... here's my house." He gestured with his arm.

Josh looked around for a short period of time, nodding slightly at what he saw. "...Quaint," he spoke simply.

Johnny chuckled. "Only compared to yours."

"Well, that's hardly fair," Josh laughed. "Unless your parents are leaders of a nation." Suddenly, he seemed to remember something. "Oh, are your parents okay with me coming over? I don't want to impose."

"It's fine," Johnny waved it away. "They don't mind." A lie, he knew, but he wasn't ready for the truth just yet.

"Where are your parents anyway?" Josh asked. "Still out at work?"

Johnny nodded. He wasn't sure what else he could say.

Regardless, Josh seemed satisfied, and he clapped his hands expectantly. "Alright, then. What kind of movies do you have?"


"You really haven't... seen The Hobbit, before?" Johnny asked as the credits started to roll on the TV screen. He and Josh had situated themselves firmly upon the living room furniture to watch, and it had been almost three hours since either of them had last moved. "It's one, of my favorites, honestly."

Josh stood up and stretched, groaning as his joints popped audibly. "Yeah. I mean, I'm a huge Lord of the Rings fan, but I've never gotten around to these. It was good, though. You got the other two?"

"If you... you want to watch them, sure," Johnny said.

Josh shook his head. "Nah, I'm in more of a video game mood now. I mean, if that's cool with you." He added the second part quickly, as not to sound imposing.

Johnny's stomach growled before he could reply, and he chuckled sheepishly. "Sorry, I think games will – games will have to wait. What time is it?"

"A little past six," Josh replied, looking at a clock resting on a nearby end table.

Johnny stood up in response, shaking out the kinks that had built up over the past couple hours. "I should start those, uh, those burgers, then," he declared, making his way into the kitchen. Fishing through the fridge, pantry, and spice cabinet, Johnny organized all of his ingredients, then stepped over to the sink to scrub his hands.

Josh peeked in and watched his friend operate. "Wait, I thought your parents were gonna come home and make dinner," he stated, sounding a little confused.

"Nope. Me," Johnny replied with a shake of his head. He started to feel himself relax; cooking, along with music, was one of the things that he truly enjoyed. In the real world he was lost and skittish, but in the kitchen he had power. He had experience. This would be no trouble at all.

Johnny got out his grill pan and set it on the stove, turning up the temperature high to let it heat up. Then, tearing open the package of ground beef, he ripped the meat into four quarters and set them gently onto his cutting block. Picking up one section of beef, he began to toss it from hand to hand, so quickly that it barely had time to touch his palms. When the meat formed a satisfactory sphere, Johnny placed it gently onto the block and picked up the next section.

Josh, meanwhile, was in unabashed awe. The Johnny before him was nothing like the Johnny he'd become acquainted with, not gloomy and introspective but confident and pleasured. For Primus' sake, he was smiling and humming a tune! Was this the real Johnny, the one buried beneath the misery and doubt? Josh hoped so – he greatly preferred seeing Johnny like this.

"Oh, hey," Johnny turned to face Josh suddenly, tossing the third quarter of beef back and forth without even having to look at it. "How do you want, your burger?"

For once, Josh was the one at a loss for words. "Oh, uh... slightly burned," he managed.

"Toasted bun?" Johnny continued, pointing at a bag of hamburger buns.

"Sure."

"Cheese?"

"Why not?"

"Great."

Once Johnny had his four spheres of beef ready, he gingerly picked them up one by one and squished them between his palms into flat patties. He smoothed out their edges, then made a divot in the center of each of them with his thumb and salt-and-peppered both sides of all of them before setting them down in the now hot grill pan. The meat sizzled enticingly, and Johnny added in four hamburger buns, each one with both halves separated.

After about ten seconds, Johnny scooped the toasted buns off the pan and dumped two each onto two nearby plates, leaving only the beef to cook. "It's gonna be a, a few minutes here," Johnny turned to Josh, spatula still in hand. "Getting hungry?"

Josh was indeed getting hungry, and the increasingly strong scent of cooked meat wasn't helping any. "I didn't know you could cook," he said.

Johnny shrugged. "Well, I never told you that, I could," he replied. "But yeah, I've been cooking for years now. I think I'm pretty – I'm pretty good."

"I don't doubt that," Josh smirked. Johnny flipped a couple of the burgers, then flipped the other two about half a minute later. They smelled heavenly, and Josh could feel his mouth water. A couple of minutes later, Johnny went over to the fridge and pulled out a stack of cheese slices. He deftly placed one on each patty – making sure none of them were off-center – then covered the pan with a lid.

"About a minute left," Johnny noted. "The cheese – it has to melt."

"So, what got you into cooking?" Josh asked. "Your parents?"

Johnny didn't answer right away, and Josh realized swiftly that he'd touched something dark. But before he could recant it, Johnny gave an answer. "My – my neighbor, actually." He didn't say anything further, which both relieved and frustrated Josh. He didn't want to have to push, but if Johnny wouldn't say anything...

The minute passed by quickly, and Johnny pulled off the lid to reveal the four perfectly cooked patties with melted cheese. "That smells great," Josh smiled.

"Yep," Johnny agreed, and he slid them all off one by one with his spatula, placing each one on a bun with the utmost delicacy. He turned the stove off and moved the pan aside, then handed the plate with the slightly charred patties to Josh (his own were slightly less cooked). "Go crazy with the toppings," he urged the other boy, beckoning to the pile of shredded lettuce, tomato and pickle slices, ketchup, and mustard.

"Don't mind if I do," Josh replied, placing a little of just about everything onto his burgers and setting the buns on top. Johnny himself went for the ketchup and mustard, throwing a few pickle slices in while he was at it. He plucked two Diet Cokes out of the fridge and handed one to Josh before carrying all of his food to the kitchen table. He sat across from Josh, so they could look at each other more easily while they ate.

"Alright," Johnny beckoned toward the food. "Dig in."

Josh didn't need to be told twice. He picked up one burger and bit into it savagely, ripping off a chuck of bread, meat, and various toppings. As he chewed, his face took on a thoughtful look, his eyes widening in surprise. It made Johnny chuckle; he might have laughed outright, if not for the food presently in his mouth. No point in spraying it everywhere.

Josh swallowed at last and stared at the rest of the burger. "Johnny, this is awesome!" He raved, a huge, excited grin cutting across his face. "You gotta let me in, what's your secret? Come on, I won't tell!"

Johnny laughed. "It's nothing really. Burgers are a pretty basic recipe, and I've had, I've had plenty of practice with them. It's all about the toppings, the meat, and how they're... cooked." He took another bite of his own burger, as Josh wolfed down his first one and moved on to his second. "But I'm flattered that you enjoy it. I don't cook for other, other people often."

Josh washed his burger down with his Coke and looked Johnny straight in the eye. "Well, you should. I was watching you work, and you're a boss in the kitchen. You could be famous some day."

Johnny felt himself blush. Being talked up like this... it was something entirely new to him. Still, he was happy to realize that it felt really, really good. "Maybe..." He acknowledged. "But I'm more used to, to cooking for myself."

Johnny probably hadn't meant anything by that, but Josh was smart enough to catch the significance of what the other boy had said. He'd actually been dropping hints all night – how his neighbor had taught him to cook and not his parents, how Johnny had so much skill when preparing food, and now, when he said that he was used to cooking for himself. Josh was starting to get some picture of Johnny's home life, one that he hoped was wrong but that most likely wasn't.

He wanted to say something, but what could he say at a time like this? There was no doubt that he'd hurt Johnny by asking... but Johnny didn't seem willing to volunteer more than he had to. Maybe it really was time to push a little. It didn't make him happy, but Josh didn't see another choice. He couldn't, wouldn't leave without the truth.

"Hey, Johnny?" Josh started gently. The other boy silently looked up from his second burger, and Josh forced himself not to look directly at him. "Do you know if your parents are gonna be home soon?"

Johnny rolled the question around in his head. He was tempted to simply say 'no,' but would that really help him? He'd still be running, from Josh, Smokescreen, and all of the other people who'd come to care about him.

Being cared about... it wasn't a familiar feeling to Johnny, and as good as it made him feel, there was a generous amount of fear in there as well. They all meant well, he was sure of that now, but he couldn't get his finger on why. It was... close, but the answer eluded him, and that was frightening.

But their company had opened his eyes a little, and shown him what the world looked like outside of his own little bubble. And thinking of that made Johnny realize that he didn't want to run away anymore. He wanted out, into their world, no matter how long it took. Even if it was never meant to be.

So Johnny's response wasn't 'no.' It was something a little more detailed.

"They're not... coming home, tonight."

His response got Josh's attention in a hurry. The despondent look on his face ensured that he'd keep it.

"...Okay," Josh nodded. He wasn't sure where to go from here, but he knew he had to keep talking, or else he might lose his nerve. "Do you know when they are?"

Johnny shook his head. "They'd – they'd let me know," he answered softly.

Josh's theory, to his dismay, was gaining ground quickly. So Johnny was alone sometimes. That would explain some things. But maybe the idea was off-base – maybe his parents made sure to have time for him, too. "Are your... parents away a lot, Johnny?" Josh asked, trying not to give any questions that would dig up too much too fast.

"My dad's a – a speaker," Johnny replied. He could hear his voice starting to bog down from sadness. "On Earth. He goes, goes to universities and talks, and talks about Cybertronian culture. And my mom... I'm not sure," he admitted. "Something to do – with government in another, city-state."

Johnny sighed, and chanced a look at Josh. The blonde youth's eyes were staring wide with the dawning of a terrible realization. Johnny's voice fell to a whisper. "I, I see them every few, every few months... maybe."

To Johnny, the admission was an opening floodgate, surging past the wall of unspoken denial he'd built up without even realizing it. He leaned back in his chair as his eyes swam with tears.

To Josh, however, it was an ice-cold gut punch. Primus, he hadn't been expecting this. Abusive parents, he could relate to – not that he wished that on Johnny, of course – but parents who weren't even there? That was a painful new experience. "Johnny..." Josh started, but words failed him. What could he say to that? 'I'm sorry your parents abandoned you?'

"...Who takes care of you?" Josh finally got out. It was a pathetic response, and he knew it.

Johnny didn't seem to mind, though. He leaned back forward to face Josh once more, eyes still watery. "My neighbors, sort of," he replied. "The Velgers. They live a, live a few houses down. They taught me to – how to cook, take care of the house, work my, finances... I would've starved... a long time ago if not – if not for them."

"'A long time?'" Josh echoed in disbelief. "Johnny, how... how long has this been going on?"

Johnny hung his head in pain and let out a hollow laugh as the tears finally came free of his eyes. "Too long," he said simply. "Almost all my life. I could tell you, the whole story if – the whole story if you're interested."

In truth, Josh wasn't sure he wanted to hear the whole story. If there really was more to it than Johnny had already shared, then how much worse could he have had it?

"I'm not going anywhere," he heard himself saying. Very quickly, he realized that he meant it.

Johnny looked up at Josh, teary eyes widening slightly. He wiped his tears away as best he could and cleared his throat. "Okay..." he said softly, then inhaled and began to speak.


"I really appreciate this. I know it's kind of short notice, but-"

"I know, I know, business calls. Look, I'll level with you, Jason. We both know I'm not the 'dad' kind of guy, but I wanna get to know my nephew some. I mean, how old is he?"

"Five, actually. He just started first grade a couple of months ago."

John didn't pay much attention to the adults talking in the other room. He was too busy exploring! What was this new and exciting place his mommy and daddy had taken him too? And that other man looked so happy to see him! There was no doubt he was going to have lots of new adventures here.

"Look, I'll figure something out. I'm sure I can reason with my boss a little."

"I'm glad."

Mommy and Daddy walked back into the living room with the other man. He was tall and kind of scary-looking to John. "Hey, John. Up here," Daddy bent down to look John in the eyes. John liked that. "This is Alex. He's my brother, and your uncle." Daddy pointed at the other man, who nodded at John and smiled. Something his smile scared John a little.

"Mommy and I are going away for a while, okay?" Daddy said. "Uncle Alex is gonna take care of you until we get back."

"No!" John cried, hugging his daddy. "Don't go! I don't wanna see you go!"

Mommy laughed gently and looked John in the eye. "Shhh, it's okay, John. Nothing's happening to us. We're just going to have a little fun. We'll be back before you know it. Until then, you can have fun with Uncle Alex! How does that sound?"

John wasn't entirely happy at the sound of that, but Mommy and Daddy knew best, he figured. "Uhhh... okay," John nodded. "But you come home soon!"

Mommy and Daddy laughed. "Okay, okay! We promise!" Daddy laughed. He lifted John into a big hug. "You're a very smart boy, John. Don't forget that."

"Kind, too," Mommy added. "Very, very kind. And you're perfect just like that, John. You don't ever need to change a thing.

"Just remember to be brave, okay? There's nothing you can't do if you're a brave boy," Mommy finished, giving John a hug of her own. She set him down gently and gave him a pat on the head. "We'll see you soon, I promise."

John waved goodbye as Mommy and Daddy stepped out the door and closed it behind them, leaving John alone with his new uncle. John was nervous, but he had no doubt that this was going to be fun.


"My parents didn't really step out of my, step out of my life until I... was five," Johnny began. "But they did, eventually. They dropped me, uh, off with my uncle Alex, and said that they'd, be back soon while he took, took, took care of me." He laughed sadly. "I was... so hopeful back then. I thought it'd... be an adventure."

Josh's heart sank. He didn't any help to get an idea of where this was all headed.

"And Alex wasn't so – so bad at first. He didn't talk to... didn't talk to me a whole lot, but he'd play with me if I – asked him to, and he took me wherever I needed to be." Johnny cut off with a sigh. "That lasted, a few months, I think."


Uncle Alex was angry. John didn't know why, but the phone had rang right after they had gotten back from school, and after Alex had gone to answer it John had heard him start to yell. He didn't understand what was happening – something grown-up, he assumed – but when John had peeked into the kitchen after the yelling had stopped, Alex was seated at the table, head buried in his hands. He looked sad.

"What's wrong?" John asked. "Are you okay?"

Alex looked up sharply, as though he hadn't expected anybody to speak, but his fearsome gaze softened as he saw John. "It... It's nothing, kid," he sighed. "I'll take care of it."

"Are you sure? 'Cause my teachers said that if you need-"

"I said, it's fine!" Alex shouted. "I don't need anything from you!"

John stumbled back and fell down, hitting his back on the hard kitchen tile. It hurt, and he started to cry. Alex's words caught in his throat, and he simply sighed and stormed out of the house, leaving behind a forgotten, crying John.

He didn't get back until an hour or two later. John was in the living room watching cartoons when his uncle came in. His eyes were red, and he was stumbling around a little. John leaped off the couch and hid behind it, fearing another shout.

Alex simply stared at him for a minute and groaned softly. "Look, kid, I'm... I've just been having a rough time, alright?" He said. "I'm sorry if I scared you. My boss just hired some more workers, so my hours got cut. Pissed me off."

"...When are Mommy and Daddy coming home?" John asked softly.

Alex looked at him in a way John didn't understand, then sighed deeply. "Not soon enough. Go to your room and take a nap. I need some alone time."


"...And it just got worse... from there," Johnny admitted. He'd stopped crying, which was unusual to him. Perhaps he'd simply gotten so used to thinking about all of this that it didn't really hurt him anymore. He'd gone numb. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

"Did your parents...?" Josh asked. His eyes pleaded for a 'yes.'

Johnny, unfortunately, had none to give him. "No. They, called a lot and, and visited occasionally, but..." He trailed off, not sensing any need to finish the answer, then changed the subject. "After a while, Alex started drinking. I don't – I don't remember when, exactly," he continued, trying not to look at the crushed look in Josh's eyes.


Alex was in a bad mood again. He usually was, these days. He was collapsed on the couch and snoring loudly, but Johnny knew through painful experience that he could wake up at the slightest disturbance. And that was never a pretty picture.

Johnny didn't know what exactly was in the bottles that Uncle Alex drank from so often these days, but it smelled wretched. Like liquid nightmares, Johnny assumed. If it had the same effect on all people that it did on his uncle, then Johnny swore he'd never so much as look at the stuff.

The bottles were strewn all over the apartment by now; Alex rarely bothered taking them out. That made things... difficult. At present, Johnny was in the kitchen – having hidden there when he'd heard his uncle coming in – and he wanted to get to his room. Those glass bottles made a loud rattle at the slightest touch, so he'd have to avoid touching any of them. Johnny had had plenty of practice in the past, but as the number of bottles increased so too did the danger.

Johnny tiptoed slowly across the kitchen floor, making absolutely sure there were no bottles near wherever he stepped. Before too long, he made it to the living room, and his bedroom wasn't far. He focused on it, holding that goal in mind. Step by step by step...

But then he stumbled. It wasn't enough to make him fall, but when he brought his other leg forward to re-establish his balance, he carelessly struck a bottle with his foot and sent it rolling around. It struck another bottle with a loud *clink*, which then struck a couple others before the whole thing came to a stop.

Time seemed to freeze as Johnny heard Alex start to wake up. Abandoning caution, the young boy darted toward his door, kicking many more bottles out of the way. Alex growled from somewhere behind him, and Johnny felt his eyes fill with frightened tears. He didn't want to be hurt again!

Johnny ran into his room and slammed the door, leaning against it and breathing heavily. He couldn't relax yet – Alex was still coming, and if he decided to come in...

Crying softly, Johnny prayed in silence. God, Primus, please let his parents come home and save him! He didn't want to live here anymore!

Eventually, Alex stumbled away from the boy's room, grumbling darkly. He was going back to sleep, Johnny was sure. And Johnny himself was stuck in his room until dinner, whenever and whatever that would turn out to be. Something from a convenience store as usual, he was sure.

Not for the first time, Johnny wondered where his mom and dad were. They hadn't visited in months... was that normal? He didn't think so; most of the other kids had moms and dads who were there, who picked them up every day with happy smiles on their faces.

And not for the first time, Johnny wondered why his parents couldn't bother doing that themselves.


"It all-" Johnny's voice cut off with a choking sound, and he bowed his head once more, trying to rein his emotions back in. As the memories resurfaced for him, his breathing became fast and sharp, too much so for his own comfort. No, he had to stay together. He couldn't fall apart now.

Even if that option was so very enticing.

Johnny dimly heard Josh shift, and before he knew it the other boy's arm draped over his shoulders in an embrace. Johnny's breath caught. "Josh, why-"

"Don't," Josh murmured. "Just... I shouldn't have done any of this. I'm sorry, Johnny."

Johnny was stunned by the apology, by the pain in Josh's voice. He pulled away slightly to look the other boy in the face. His eyes were watery, like Johnny's, although no tears had spilled yet. "Why? What do you, have to say sorry for?" Johnny asked, genuinely confused.

"I didn't listen," Josh replied sadly, shaking his head in shame. "Dad told me not to force you open. He said to let you open yourself up for me, and look what I did." He laughed mirthlessly. "I turned around and practically ripped you in half. I just... I wanted to be able to do something, to stop you from feeling the way I used to.

"But I've been selfish. Really, really selfish," Josh choked out. "I didn't... I'm sorry, Johnny." He turned and walked away from Johnny in self-contempt, grabbing his backpack on the way. Johnny watched Josh step out of the kitchen and into the living room, on his way to the front door.

Go after him! The voice in Johnny's head screamed. Loudly, clearly.

And he obeyed.

"Wait! Josh!" Johnny called out as he gave chase for his friend. Josh already had one hand on the doorknob when the other boy burst into the foyer, and he looked back at Johnny with a surprised gaze.

Johnny took a deep breath. Somehow, the thought of Josh leaving galvanized his thoughts. His needs. "It all fell apart when – apart when I was eight," Johnny began quickly. "That day at school, I'd-"

"Wait, wait a minute!" Josh cut him off. "What are you doing, Johnny?"

"Talking. Now, I-"

"But why?" Josh cut him off again. "I thought... I thought this was too hard for you. I mean, you barely kept it together in there, so why...?"

"It is hard, Josh. I can barely – barely think about it even, now," Johnny answered. "But I can't stop." His voice tinged suddenly with a newfound desperation. "I haven't talked... about this for so long, and if I stop – now I'll never get back, back the nerve to start over. Please, please don't go just yet."

Josh stared back, caught off guard by Johnny's heartfelt plea. He could sense Johnny's yearning, not just in his words but in his eyes. Johnny didn't want him to go yet.

And against his slightly better judgment, Josh decided not to. He moved away from the door, watching Johnny relax slightly in response. He still wasn't sure he wanted to hear the end of Johnny's story... but at this point, he owed it to the guy.

Johnny, having calmed down some, resumed speaking. "One day, when I was eight, he wound up, uh, hitting me in, in the eye. It left a bruise, and at school the... next day, the teacher asked me where I got it." Johnny's gaze slunk downward. "I didn't... know what would happen, so I told, told her the truth. She got this look on her face, I can't even describe it, and sent me down to the – down to the office. I stayed down there for a while, and no one would – would tell me what was happening.

"After a while, Alex came in, and he and, he and some of the teachers got in – a fight. I didn't hear anything, but I've pretty... much figured out what it, was about since then." Johnny gingerly fingered the side of his head as the anxiety bubbled up inside of him like lava. "Then he came at, at me with a beer bottle – I don't even know how he got it in – and he pinned – he pinned me down and – and-"


"Let me go!" Johnny screamed as the fingers dug into his throat. He heard screaming from somewhere nearby, but his mind was getting woozy and he couldn't find the source.

"You think you know me?!" Alex snarled. "Lemme tell you something. You have no idea what I'm capable of!"

Johnny cried out again, and then-

CRACK!

It all went black.


"...He... he hit you?" Josh whispered, his face a horrified mask. Johnny wasn't looking at him anymore; his eyes had migrated downward yet again. "With-with the bottle?!"

Johnny nodded painfully. "Right here." He pointed to a spot on his head, just above his left ear. "I woke up in the – in the hospital. My head hurt... and it's been hurting, ever since."

The brown-haired boy leaned listlessly against the wall. "Oh, my parents did come back for a while after that," he added for the sake of completeness. "They brought me back here, helped me some with my migraines and aphasia. But about two years later, they said they wanted to get back to their careers... and here I am now."

And with that, he was finished. Despite his initial reservations, Johnny actually did feel a little better than he did before. Still nowhere near okay, but he felt... a little lighter now. As if he'd found a way to offload some of the burden he'd been carrying.

Josh looked... a lot of things, actually. A great deal of it was sorrow, but there was plenty of anger and shock as well. The way all of them fought for dominance on Josh's face was a little disturbing. In the end, sadness won for the time being, and the elder boy strode forward and gently placed his hands on Johnny's shoulders. He still didn't speak – the words failed him, and he couldn't help but despise himself a little for that.

Johnny didn't seem to mind too much, though. If anything, he looked a little happy that Josh had stuck around. Still, after a while of silence he started to get a little unnerved. "Josh?" He asked, confused. "You okay?"

"...You were ten?"

Johnny raised an eyebrow. "Hmm?"

"When they left," Josh replied, staring at Johnny. There was a new intensity in his eyes, a frightening one. "You said you were ten years old, right?"

Johnny nodded, unable to find words.

The sadness – the regret – in Josh's eyes was heartwrenching. "When I was ten, I got a new family," he whispered. "And when you were ten? You lost yours. How is that fair?"

Johnny wasn't sure how to respond, but he figured he had to say something. "Well, my parents are dead, just... gone. I mean, I don't see them a lot, but they come by more than they used to-"

"That's not a good thing, Johnny!" Josh exploded, causing the younger boy to jump. "I mean, Primus, this is your family! What's wrong with these people, just abandoning their own son! And after his own uncle tried to beat his head in! Parents aren't supposed to do that! They're supposed to be there for you! Always!"

Josh panted after the end of his short tirade, still brimming with anger. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he worried about how Johnny would react to what he'd just done. What he'd just said.

Laughter, of all things, was not on that list, but that didn't stop Johnny. The boy chuckled to himself, his bitter laughter completely devoid of any joy. Striding over to the nearby staircase, Johnny sat down upon the first one, still laughing softly. Josh, utterly confused, followed suit and sat down next to him, awaiting an explanation.

When Johnny finally finished laughing, he sighed and turned slightly toward Josh. "You were right," Johnny said. "They... abandoned me, didn't they?"

Any residual anger Josh may have held drained away instantly at those words. It was all replaced, by a sudden, freezing guilt. "Johnny? Johnny, I swear I didn't-"

"Don't," Johnny cut him off with a halfhearted hand wave. "Nothing you said... nothing you said was wrong. They left me." He said it so simply, so matter-of-factly, that had Josh not seen the sorrowful look on his face, he might have assumed Johnny simply didn't care. "I've known – that for a, a while. They're not coming back, for me. I guess... there was just a, a little part of me that was hoping... hoping otherwise."

In response, Josh slung his arm around Johnny's shoulders. It was the only thing he felt he could do. "Johnny, why don't you talk to them? Tell them how you feel."

Johnny snorted. "They made their choice. They didn't, pick me," he replied bitterly. "Besides, what do they, do they have to come back to?" He turned to face Josh head-on, showing his eyes at last. "I'm broken, Josh."

Josh actually recoiled at the look on Johnny's face. His eyes were gloomy and dim, smothered by the years of pain and despair that he'd forced himself to recount so quickly. At the same time, his mouth was curled upward into a faint, sad smile. Josh couldn't lie – it frightened him to see his friend with such a face.

Johnny wasn't grieving. He wasn't depressed. He had surrendered. He'd been forced for all his life to believe that he was worthless, that his parents would never want him. That he was broken. And somewhere along the line, he'd made himself accept it.

Josh couldn't help but wonder. Was this something that Ultra Magnus had seen in him when they were getting to know each other? Josh had always thought he'd been unruly as a kid, trying so hard to be tough, but he remembered very well the times when he'd let his facade fall. He'd been so scared of so many things back then, no matter how deeply he tried to bury them. Had he ever looked at his father the way Johnny was looking at him now? With such hopeless eyes?

There was a cold, almost physical presence around the other boy now, even as he broke eye contact to look back down at his knees.

"Johnny..." Josh started softly.

"Yeah?"

"...I'm your friend."

Johnny's eyes widened as he turned back toward Josh. "Oh, uh, thanks." He smiled slightly, a genuine, happy smile.

"And not just me. Everybody," Josh forced himself onward. "Bee. Smokes. Bluestreak. Terry. Abigail. You've got friends, Johnny. People who'll be there for you, no matter what. Even if no one else will. I promise." He turned bodily to face Johnny head-on and placed his hands firmly on the boy's shoulders, willing his emotions – and his sheer desire to help – to penetrate Johnny's cold, hard shell.

And although he couldn't tell right then, Johnny did feel more at ease. He was surprised, maybe a little off-kilter, but grateful to the boy who was trying so very hard for him. "So... are you gonna tell anybody, tell anybody about me?" He asked.

Josh seemed to waver just slightly at that. Apparently, he hadn't thought that far ahead. He opened his mouth to speak, but Johnny quickly cut him off. "I mean, I don't mind. I was just... maybe it'll be nice," he managed to slip in. "A good change."

Josh sighed. "I hope so. Anyway, I should... probably get going. I have stuff to do tonight." He stood up almost reluctantly and started toward the front door. Johnny watched from his place on the stairs. As Josh's hand closed around the doorknob, he stopped one last time and turned back toward the other boy. "You gonna be okay, Johnny?" He asked gently.

Johnny nodded. "I've managed for, six years now, Josh. I'll be fine."

Josh looked like he doubted that, but he didn't express it out loud. He merely added a quiet, "See you soon" and left.

Johnny turned back inward to his thoughts. This didn't feel like a mistake, it felt almost right actually. But he was still wary, and he was still nervous. No amount of consoling could make that just go away... although he certainly appreciated their efforts.


Over the next few days, Johnny felt less alone than he had in a long, long while. The texts and phone calls had started later that night, only a couple hours after Josh had left. Pretty much everybody Johnny had met over the past couple of weeks was checking in on him nowadays, and a number of people that he'd never even heard of were following suit. Even Magnus left him a message, a pep talk telling him to be strong and promising him whatever help he needed.

But the most fervent of them all was easily Smokescreen. He was among the first to check up on his human friend, and even with all of the other attention Johnny was getting, he seemed to be doing anything he could to stand out from the pack. He texted and called Johnny whenever he had time, and his visits increased from ever the weekend to daily, even if it was only for a short while to chat.

Johnny was a little worried with how much the Autobot was pushing himself – what with his night job coupled with his visits – but Smokescreen gently brushed the subject away every time it was brought up, assuring him he could always recharge later. Evidently, Johnny's health came first to him, which Johnny could understand on some level. Cybertronians were built to last much longer than humans ever could.

And Johnny genuinely enjoyed the attention Smokescreen was giving him. He'd been a little overwhelmed by it at first, but as he thought about it, remembering back to the days they'd spent together, it made more sense than he'd initially realized. He recalled Smokescreen's excitement upon meeting him, when the Autobot knew all but nothing about him. How he'd accepted Johnny so quickly and shown real concern when the boy's nerves and other issues shown through.

He'd been enthusiastic and willing to learn about Johnny. He still was, actually. He was sweet and accommodating, offering suggestions for things to do together and allowing Johnny to make choices for the both of them.

Smokescreen didn't push Johnny around or demand anything. He was charming with a great sense of humor. He paid attention to Johnny's quirks and remembered them. And he acknowledged those quirks without so much as a sliver of mockery.

And he... well, he cared. Even when – especially when – Johnny felt he shouldn't. That alone was nothing short of fantastic. It was a new kind of relationship for Johnny, one where he didn't feel like he had to hold anything back.

So they hung out, and when they couldn't do that, they'd call or text. Johnny learned that Smokescreen had a second older brother by the name of Prowl who also worked for Ultra Magnus (a big stick in the mud, as Smokescreen described him, but not that bad once you knew him), he trained in the Cybertronian Elite Guard, and he loved human movies and literature, especially the fantasy genre. He lived in an apartment with another Autobot named Bulkhead, a construction worker on Cybertron, who'd apparently had to suffer Smokescreen talking about Johnny a lot recently. He liked salty foods like aluminum crackers, and he loved winter but had never seen real-life snow.

Smokescreen, in return, learned that Johnny's favorite band was Imagine Dragons, that he hoped to be able to play all of their songs on guitar someday, and that he used to dye his hair but had gotten bored of it a while ago. He liked stories with romances in them – provided they were done well – and he was a decent singer. He preferred sweet foods, especially brownies (although he was impartial to fruit as well), and he'd never ridden a roller coaster before.

Smokescreen had sworn there and then to remedy that last bit someday.

Things had gone by largely the same as usual until the following Sunday.


"No, Johnny."

"Come on, please?" Johnny begged, looking wistfully out the passenger seat window. "It's for my collection!"

"I don't care what it's for. The day I let you go out there is the day I paint myself pink with rainbows!" Smokescreen replied firmly, doors remaining decidedly locked. They'd been on their way back from the downtown arcade, where they'd spent the day more or less fooling around. Smokescreen had glued himself to the shooting games, while Johnny had tried out some of the other games like the crane machine (Josh had warned him in advance that it was rigged, but Johnny had managed to win a stuffed turtle regardless, so he was feeling fine).

Along the way, Johnny had thought of one other place he wanted to stop by, and he'd asked Smokescreen to take him there while candidly avoiding stating the name of the place. Of course, now that they were there, it was another story.

"I think you'd look good, good in pink and rainbows," Johnny stated quietly. "Why don't you come with me, if you're, nervous?"

"Johnny, it's not about nerves. You think there's a reason why people don't go to Maximo Park? Just look at it!"

And Johnny had indeed looked at it. Maximo Park was a far cry from the glory of Solus Park, or Micronus Park, or any of the others Johnny had seen. For one thing, it was a lot dirtier; litter and pieces of scrap metal were scattered all throughout the overgrown metallic grass. There was graffiti painted upon the demonic, spiky statue of Liege Maximo, the Prime said to have shattered the unity of the Thirteen untold eons ago. The whole place reeked of coldness and desolation.

"Good people don't go to Maximo Park, Johnny," Smokescreen stated. "Good people drive past it without looking, and that's exactly what we're gonna do!" His engine started to rev.

"Wait!" Johnny blurted. "At least roll – roll down a..." He cut out as the panic made his mind short circuit, and he groaned meaninglessly in opposition.

Fortunately, that was all it took for Smokescreen to cut his engine. "Whoa, whoa, it's okay. I'm sorry," the Autobot murmured, voice changing instantly from forceful to soothing. "It's alright. Take your time."

Johnny took a breath and ran his intentions through in his head a couple of times before trying again. "At least... roll down the window. Please?" He asked nervously.

"...Yeah, yeah. You got it," Smokescreen continued gently, retracting the window near Johnny's head with a whir.

Johnny leaned out the side, pulling out his phone and pointing it toward the faraway statue. He took the picture with a snap, then leaned back in to look at it. "Hmmm... not my best shot," the human admitted. "But I'll take, it."

Sensing that the boy was done, Smokescreen began to drive away. "Hey, what was this all about?" He questioned the boy. "Is taking pictures a hobby or something?"

"Not really," Johnny answered, shaking his head in the negative. "I just thought a... while ago that it'd been fun to take – fun to take pictures of all the Prime statues. Liege Maximo, was my eighth."

"Sounds fun. You got a shot of the Optimus statue yet?" Smokescreen asked, suddenly sounding very excited.

Johnny shook his head again. "Saving him for last."

"Best for last, huh? I like that."

Johnny nodded silently. The way he'd stalled out earlier was fresh in his mind. He knew he shouldn't have cared about it nearly as much as he did, but it was an old wound, one that had barely begun to heal in recent days. It still hurt when it was agitated.

His silence and change in demeanor hadn't gone unnoticed, but Smokescreen was oddly quiet. Johnny wished he'd say something. Even if it was just a simple joke, it would've done wonders to break his funk.

They were back at Johnny's before too long, and Johnny unbuckled and grabbed his prizes. "Thanks, Smokey. I had a... lot of fun today," he thanked the Autobot, as sincerely as he could. He opened the door and stepped out.

"Not so fast, Johnnytron," Smokescreen spoke up without warning, as Johnny's hand rested upon the door to close it. The boy looked at the sports car in confusion, and Smokescreen continued. "You're feeling sad, aren't you?"

Johnny opened his mouth to lie, but decided against it. "A... a little, yeah," he admitted quietly.

"Well, that just won't do," Smokescreen replied firmly, transforming into his bipedal mode and looming over the boy with a rare serious look on his face. "There's no way I can let you go for the night when you're all sad. That'd just make me sad." He knelt down slowly, catching Johnny's gaze and refusing to let go. "What's on your mind, kiddo?"

The look on the Autobot's face, that look of compassion and concern, was comforting to Johnny. He drew upon it to give him strength. "You and the others... you've all been doing, so much for me. In the – the past few days... I've felt welcomed by, more people than I've ever felt before..." He shook his head sadly. "But it doesn't change... it doesn't change who I am. I want it to so badly, but at the end of the day I'm still a – a messed up kid, with a messed up home, and... and a messed up head. And that sucks."

Johnny broke eye contact with the robot and looked away. He forced himself not to cry – he could stand crying in front of a lot of people, but not Smokey. So instead, he looked down at his hands. They were shaking, not hard, but still. Looking closely, they seemed so fragile.

He half-expected to feel the Autobot's hand curl around him in another pseudo-embrace, but Smokescreen had another plan in mind. His hands curled gently around the little human and lifted him into the air, making him yelp loudly. "Smokescreen, what are you-"

Smokescreen tucked the boy gently against his chest plates, cradling him more carefully than he'd ever done before. Johnny was dumbfounded – what was he supposed to do in response to this? He ultimately chose to accept it, to take in as much as he could while he had the chance.

Holding his breath, Johnny placed an ear to Smokescreen's chest. He could through the metal the chaotic yet rhythmic workings of the Autobot's internal systems – a whir there, a click or two there, and a deep humming sound that underscored it all. Something about it tugged painfully at Johnny's heart.

"Johnny," Smokescreen spoke at last, his voice vibrating through his metal frame. It felt funny against Johnny's body... but not in an unwelcome way. "Listen to me, buddy. All that stuff you said about yourself, it's wrong. Every bit of it. You're not messed up. You're not..." The Autobot fished around for the right words. "Whatever happened to you in the past doesn't matter anymore. That's why it's the past. And that's not what you are. You're not your past, or your depression, or – or your limitations. You're you. Confusing, frustrating, amazing you.

"And you can't give up. Optimus never gave up, and neither did any of us, and look where it got us. We got our home back. You just... you have to stay strong, Johnny. I know what it's like to feel weak, like you'll never be able to do anything, but that's not true. All those years you've been holding on? There's no way you couldn't be strong and come out the other end of that. We all believe in you, buddy. I believe in you."

Johnny looked up at the Autobot holding him, and the sheer, adoring love in his optics was enough to steal Johnny's breath away. It was so alien to the boy that he couldn't help but look away from its intensity. "I... thank you," Johnny hiccuped. There was nothing else he could say, not to all of that.

Smokescreen set Johnny back on the road, just as gently as he'd picked him up. "Hey, look at me," he ordered the boy softly. Once Johnny complied, the metal giant continued. "You're gonna be okay. I promise, we'll do whatever it takes to make it all okay. You hear me? You're gonna have a happy ending, even if I have to shake hands with Unicron to get it."

The human looked oddly thoughtful at that oath, and he wandered back across the lawn to his front door whilst formulating his response. After what seemed like an agonizing stellar cycle for Smokescreen, Johnny turned back around, a grateful smile on his face.

"You know, I gave up, on happy endings long ago, Smokey," he confessed. "I've just – just been holding out for a bittersweet one." He shook his head in faint amusement. "Maybe I should, start believing again."

And then he walked inside and closed the door behind him, leaving Smokescreen outside and alone in the cold.

Smokescreen felt the cold much deeper than he usually did. His teeth ground together in torment, and for the first time in a long time he felt coolant pooling underneath his optics, threatening to spill. He wiped it away furiously and transformed, driving away from the human he'd been trying so desperately to help. Words from their past conversation echoed in his mind. The same words over and over again.

You're gonna have a happy ending...

Smokescreen sent a call to Ultra Magnus. "Hey, Magnus? This a bad time?"

"Is there a problem, Smokescreen?"

That boy deserved the happiest of endings. If his own parents couldn't be bothered to provide that, Smokescreen would have to do it instead.

"Yeah... how did you become a foster dad?"

And now, the story begins in earnest.

Tomorrow's Hero, signing out.