Disclaimer: In no way do I own Transformers or anything affiliated. I do not gain any money from these in any way.
Author: VectorSigma3441
Rating: T
Edit: Changed text and dividers.
Jealous
Sunstreaker was poised, hands ready. He had gotten up early just so he could take care of this before it became a problem. He tore his gaze away from the sharp instrument in his hand and continued to wait for it to come up.
Rays of sunlight appeared over the eastern horizon illuminating everything it touched. Trees with wet leaves glistened in an array of color even Sunstreaker couldn't name. The grass sparkled just as beautifully as the trees. Small insects went about their business, flying or ambling around on the ground.
Sunstreaker was amazed. Everything was so perfectly linked so irreversible, that it took his breath away. This planet was fairly undamaged, but he realized that the humans were slowly adding to its inevitable destruction. Nothing beautiful lasts long. His thoughts trailed back to his home world, and he couldn't help but make comparisons. Sunstreaker had never known Cybertron to even be considered nice, much less as breathtaking as Earth.
The older Autobots would probably disagree with him. There had been a time when Cybertron had glowing crystal gardens, a time when younglings would play out on the streets of the biggest cities and not have to be in fear. When the buildings of Cybertron were designed with some of the greatest engineers the universe had ever seen. It was a time of peace, a time Sunstreaker had never been lucky enough to see.
So he felt compelled to steal that peace from earth, to take a little piece with him, so that he could say 'been there, seen that.'
He touched the colored pen to metal drawing pad.
He drew the clouds, and the trees and everything else. Nothing could hide from his optics, nothing ever did.
Sunstreaker wasn't sure how much time had passed, but when he looked up from his careful concentration the sun was no longer beaming pink rays, but was starting its slow descend back into the west. He took note of his surroundings again, flowers that had been closed before were now starting to show a little of the petal colors, soon to be disappointed when it would turn dark and the warmth would leave.
A pang of jealously hit. These humans didn't know how nice it was. They had friends that were still alive, friends that they hadn't ever had to worry about. They had family. Humans didn't have to worry about covering their tails against bullets, nobody else's either. Sunstreaker knew there was war here too, but the idea seemed strange to him. There was really no reason for them to fight.
He sighed deeply, depressing thoughts threatening to cloud his sight, his sight of art. He was suddenly jubilant again; he was one of the luckiest mechs to have someone beside him all the time, not out of loyalty or honor but out of plain and simple understanding. Sideswipe understood him better than anyone ever, or anyone who would ever know him.
"Sunstreaker?" A voice asked from behind him.
He started, almost expecting to hear Sideswipe's voice, but it wasn't. He looked up and stared in the shadowed visage of Optimus Prime. The leader's optics glowed warm blue and Sunstreaker swore he could see his optic edges crinkle slightly as if Prime was smiling under his mask.
"Can I sit here?" Optimus's voice was calming; it just demanded to make the mechs he was speaking to understand.
Sunstreaker grunted and nodded to his left, removing his gaze before it would become impolite. Optimus chuckled lightly and settled down heavily, his joints creaking and they snapped slightly when he relaxed all the way.
Optimus laughed at the pained expression on Sunstreaker's face. "I'm not getting any younger." He murmured with a slight hint of friendly sarcasm.
"No," Sunstreaker agreed with him completely.
"Thanks," Optimus laughed.
They were silent for a little while, it was a comfortable one that made Sunstreaker want to lay back and just sleep, sleep forever and never wake up. Sunstreaker huffed moodily; thank Optimus Prime for making him feel like committing suicide, in a sense.
"Can I see that?" Optimus asked him amiably, motioning to the drawing pad in Sunstreaker's arm.
Sunstreaker considered telling him no, that he didn't want to share what he really thought of this planet, that this was something private, but he realized that if he didn't share this with his leader, it would be like committing one of the worst sins. It would have been like he was challenging everything Optimus had worked for, the Autobot ideals even.
So he responded. "Yeah, here," He passed the pad over to Optimus and refused to look at the leader, afraid that he might be chastised for being so weak, wishing for things that he could never have. Tense silence reigned for a few seconds before Sunstreaker dared to look up. Optimus's optics were sparkling with unrestrained emotion. Sunstreaker couldn't ever remember seeing him or anyone that happy about anything for a long time.
"This is beautiful Sunstreaker. I remember reading that you were in artist, but I've never seen any of your work until now." Optimus said while handing it back to Sunstreaker.
Sunstreaker was immediately embarrassed. He had had mechs tell him that what he did was good for society, it made mechs think and possibly understand, and he didn't care, but for some reason this just felt so much more personable, some much more real.
"I pursued it back when Sideswipe and I were in the rings. It was a good way to express myself in a non-violent form." He laughed sarcastically. "I can't say that it worked."
Optimus fixed him with an intent spark searing gaze. The leader reached up and clasped Sunstreaker on the shoulder strut. "It's done you more good than you'll ever know." He said meaningfully, and then stood up, removing his hand.
"It's people like you that make me realize how much we're fighting for." Optimus said softly, staring into the setting sun.
"Here," Sunstreaker held the drawing pad out as far as he could from his sitting position to Optimus. "Maybe It will inspire you when you need it the most." He muttered, afraid of feeling childish.
"Thank you my friend, it's something I will cherish." He accepted the pad and held it carefully against his red chassis.
"Yeah well, don't tell anyone where you got it because then everyone will want one."
AN: So was it good or bad? I tried my hand at an emotional chapter and I think it turned out okay for the most part. BTW, this is unbeta-ed so feel free to leave a comment about any error you spot here or in any chapter, I'm trying to spruce up my writing so it looks nicer.
