Angsty Breakdown
He didn't ask for the little cubby-hole in one of Long Haul's storage rooms, the one among the storage crates no one ever went into because they were full of out-of-date jet parts only being kept around for materials meltdown. This particular storage room was full of obscure stuff that no one wanted, but it was never ever dusty. There was a little tunnel amid the crates that someone small and compact like a (Constructicon) Stunticon could worm their way through to the hidey-hole in the back.
Breakdown huddled in his corner now, knees drawn up to his chest and arms wrapped around his knees. No one looking at him, no one seeing him, why did he still feel like he was going to shatter and wake up to find himself wearing a necklace of ruby and scarlet optics?
His fingers dug into his legs, forcefields up and all he could feel was pressure. But that was all right, that was all right and safe. Pressure was safer than a felt touch, darkness was safer than people looking at him. Slag Dirge and his fear-generators! Tear him open from stem to stern and lay him bare for the kill, and make the remembered terror of the entire world watching him fade!
He'd frozen when Dirge's subsonics started up, and he hadn't been able to move until Ramjet told the blue jet to knock it off or he'd knock Dirge off. He hadn't been able to move, and he knew the other Decepticons had seen it. Knew it down to his struts.
They'd seen his weakness, and none of them much cared for the Stunticons. But the Stunticons were five and wrapped up so defensively tight, they were practically impregnable. Certainly few people could physically harm them.
But find the weak link (him) and suddenly everything was different.
He didn't want to be the most useless one, the one that froze up the easiest. He didn't want to be the one who had a hard time dealing with just his brothers sometimes, much less the other Decepticons, much less the Autobots (much less the humans).
He tried not to give in to it, tried to let them look at him and see him as he ought to be, but it didn't always work. And it never seemed to get any easier.
Breakdown shuddered and curled up a little tighter on himself. His engines were slowing and the fear-prickle slowly fading. Maybe in a few more hours he could crawl out and face the world again.
End