They were long past Chicago city limits, having stretched into the endless expanse of midwestern Americana.
It was one of the strangest things about Earth, the mixture of how primitive it seemed to be and yet how intricate some of the infrastructure actually was. It pained Smokescreen especially that he could not afford to go so much faster. Granted, knowing what he was able to gleam from the larger geographic continent that the USA was upon, crashing into the Rockies was hardly going to be the best idea. This truly was a planet for organic creatures, what resembled metal and sustenance for his kind being notches below rudimentary than what he was used to. However, for what humans could produce within their means, it worked well enough, and at times, what he'd seen from a place like Chicago was even impressive.
Still, he just really wished he had a better sense of navigation than a busted comms and navigation system that only seemed to work for short-range distances. He still couldn't pick up any signals from his comrades, wherever they were, nor did he detect any friendly signs from other Autobots he hoped would be nearby sooner than later. He was able to haul the new human companion that was along for the ride to Tranquility and take him to some places in the short amount of time together, but to somewhere as far as where he sourced the location of Optimus' signal… it was a surreal thing to have to keep relying upon an endearingly erratic and earnest human who would keep reading directions off from various pieces of paper. If there was one thing that Roland kept emphasizing, 'just keep following the signs that say St. Louis.' So far, that seemed to be working, even if the sights were getting a little bit monotonous.
Outside of brief spurts of conversation, the ride had been mostly silent and slow. There were brief spurts of the ride where Smokescreen could begin to truly let himself go. He just wished he had a bit more time, even though he knew that eyes upon him and Roland wasn't exactly the best idea. He still had no idea what kind of endearment to stick to the human, and he wasn't fond of thinking of him as just 'the human' in his head either, but he couldn't help but feel a slight sense of bemusement that he couldn't go past 85 to 90 miles per hour (slow even for him!) without a panicked remark.
Granted, the way Roland spoke always held a sense of genuine fear when it came to the authorities. Regardless, a part of him also began to feel a slight sense of being… he wasn't sure if protective was the right word, but he was beginning to worry somewhat for his well-being once a couple of hours hit. Advanced sensors meant it wasn't particularly difficult for Smokescreen to expend the processing power to monitor the human's health as they drove through the expanse of freeways that seemed to dominate much of the US. The Autobot wasn't privy to all of the details that informed human biology, but he knew they needed a regular routine and some nourishment. The last thing he wanted was for his new companion to… he blotted out those thoughts from his processor, given how fragile humans were in comparison to someone like him.
Springfield, Illinois was not too far from their current position. Smokescreen knew that if there was a place to rest and spend awhile eating before they would inevitably cross into new state lines. It would also be a decent change of scenery too.
"Roland, you still with us?" He asked through the speakers, catching the human by surprise. Smokescreen wasn't particularly surprised that the organic was deep in thought.
That was a tick he was noticing with his new companion. There was always something that seemed to swirl in his mind, almost to the thought where he swore that he could probably spend much of the drive simply just with the occasional statement of directions breaking an uncomfortable silence. Smokescreen knew that he'd needed to take a proverbial bite of his own medicine, if he got the human expression correct, if he wanted his new friend to open up further. But by Primus, he knew that the self-described singer had a point that the both of them needed to talk way more to actually stamp out the details of what this all entailed.
He would find a way to get to his comrades… he yearned to be with other Autobots again, but he also could not deny his role as a protector for human beings now, especially with the Decepticons having brought the war to this planet.
"I am," it wasn't the most convincing answer, but it tided over Smokescreen for now.
"Sure you don't want me to stop once we get to… Springfield, right?" He caught a nod from his traveling companion. "What are you thinking?" He tried his best not to be outright about scanning. It was painfully obvious when a Cybertronian did so.
Primus, he was afraid of how humans would take medical officers. Even moreso, he was afraid of how the organics would take to someone like a Ratchet.
"Hmm… I don't want to inconvenience you, but I think we're making decent time despite the traffic." It had gotten a touch worse since the early dawn, though Smokescreen so far had avoided the infamous looking commutes of midday Chicago especially once they were far away from its city limits. "I can last until St. Louis and I'll do some shopping and eating there. Then once we're in Missouri, we can rest. I've been on long car rides before… I know when to hold it."
That was admittedly far too much information. Smokescreen wished he could manifest some sort of hologram to jokingly show disgust, but he didn't want to press Roland on about the matter too much. He kept on pace with where they were supposed to go, trying to keep abreast of all the stop signs and trying not to get too entranced with the endless green pastures intermixed with dwellings so far away from the huge city. It was strange with just how many microcosms he was bearing witness too, and he was half-tempted to ask Roland to and at least spark conversation… the silence was getting a bit unerring, no less the young singer's habit of simply staring out into the wilds.
Though there was a comfort to just letting the moment be, embracing the stillness as it were. Smokescreen hadn't felt this kind of peace in a long while, not even when he was still in space. He didn't want to quantify the amount he had been trapped in darker expanses for so long, the knowledge of how small human lifespans still afresh in his processor before his rocky landing in the outskirts of Chicago. He didn't even want to contemplate just how many generations of humans he could potentially see flash before his very optics.
It was uncomfortable enough that the temptation to break the silence past directions drew greater, especially as the speed of which they were going at meant they were passing by Springfield.
"So…" Not the best beginning, Smokescreen knew. "Wanna continue that conversation we had at that little thing you took us? In… Evanston, right?" He was glad to have gotten a light chuckle from the human being at least.
"I… I owe you a better explanation." Oh, that much the Autobot also wanted to hold him to. "I've got a couple places to start… I'm not the best with conversations on the road, though. I'm used to someone like my dad needing to keep his eyes on the road all the time, especially in long trips like this. And actually… this is probably the longest I've ever done."
"Pfft, please." He was holding himself back from other endearments and nicknames, but he really wanted to call his companion something else that wasn't his name all the time. "You forget I'm an Autobot sometimes, y'know? I don't need optics on the roads all the time. I got enough processing power to talk to you and make sure we don't get into an accident. We'll be fine. What's on your mind, bud?" He hoped that was enough to placate Roland.
"I've been thinking about why it is I want to go with you… I realized that in a lot of ways, you're actually helping me get to where I need me to be. I didn't go to that café just to… quit my job and let go of my apartment."
Smokescreen wasn't expecting the sudden honesty again, nor the influx of information. His sensors were naturally detecting how the human being was reacting, and while there were the familiar patterns he could sense when fear was about… sometimes, it was possible to really gleam much information, even if his companion was so far the only human being he had even so far as talked to in this planet, so his sources of information were painfully limited.
"What do you mean by that?" Was all the Autobot could ask. He had to admit, this was where he wished he had the benefit of not needing to expend some processing power to focus on the road.
"Well… there's the whole singing thing I mentioned. I've been thinking," and it took all of Smokescreen's will for him not to remark that that was an awfully dangerous combo for the young human. "There's a reason why I said yeah in the first place and I owe you a fuller story as to why I'm going… cause you are helping me fulfill my dream in a way, but I haven't explained what it was."
"Huh… I didn't know that." Smokescreen began. It wasn't difficult for him to conjure memories of that first talk they had with each other in that beach, but it was difficult to suss out meaning when so much of human culture was still so painfully foreign to him. "Don't think it's a bad time to do the whole, get to know each other better thing, yeah? You tell me more about why you wanted to go on this road trip so bad… and I really should get to explaining more about my deal with the war."
There was a heaviness in Smokescreen's spark when even thoughts of the war came flashing through. There was that sense of wanting to prove one's self as more than just a rookie Autobot fresh from the academy that floated about his processor that refused to cease. Though he tried to fashion himself as a hot shot with the confidence to back it up, he couldn't escape the anxiety of… failing and dying, of letting the Autobots down. That fear began to grow more palpable and coil itself around his spark when heard Optimus Prime's message of all bots after Primus knows how long of silence. It was one that further intensified when he saw how easily that Decepticon could've killed his new companion.
The Decepticons were here… ravaging another planet and dooming it in the same way Cybertron was doomed. There was a part of him that wanted to go out there and do it on his own, fight the Decepticons head on and prove not just his worth to the Autobots, but his worth as someone who could aspire to be a great warrior. Yet… he also knew that part of his duty as an Autobot is to protect those who could not defend themselves.
Maybe that's why Smokescreen wanted to hear more about Roland as another being, even if he couldn't fully understand what it was he was trying to communicate or the significance of even half the things he was talking about with music. It was also a way to learn about the planet, about the people he had no doubt Optimus Prime would want him to protect.
"Fair deal, but as I said, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." If he could've, Smokescreen would've smiled at that. He wondered at the kind of humans that his comrades have probably met by now… but his idle wondering ceased when Roland began to talk further. "It's still down to the music thing. Since it's one… I'm happy to talk about it more, just need a place to begin. What do you want to know?"
Now that stumped the Autobot. He wasn't sure where to begin outside of trying to use his limited capabilities to research when he knew of the music scenes that abounded Earth, but even that was a rather large thing to contemplate given just how many styles of expression were out there. He still had no proper referent for what Roland was talking about last night. He scrambled through what he remembered just to see where he could begin, and all he could come up with were responses that to him still felt awfully generic.
"Well… I wanna know more about the singing thing," and that he meant. "You explained that it'd been something you wanted to do a while now."
"I figured you'd wanted to," he could hear the smile in Roland's voice, tinged with a sense of regret and yearning. He wasn't sure how else to describe the quick remark. "It's as I said. I've wanted to be one of those pop stars from a very young age, or at least get myself into a recording studio and be a recording artist at some form. You remember the names, right? Whitney, Celine."
"Yeah, I remember that." That kind of specificity was lost on Smokescreen. He kept his focus on the road though his processors were getting hooked with what Roland was describing. Hearing about any human story was always a fascinating one, and he was intrigued at how even the companion he had picked up along the way was trying to strive for something greater than himself. As easy as it was to panic him, the Autobot had to admit just to himself that there was a sense of relatability to him, even if he doubted that Roland saw any combat. The nuances of artistry, expression, and credibility were lost to Smokescreen, but it wasn't the kind of music discourse surrounding Earth that he would've known. "What about them?"
"They're the singers I look up to the most, but knowing about them isn't… the most important thing." That confused Smokescreen for a moment, but he couldn't linger on that thought for long given just how brief Roland's pauses were. "So… there's this talent show that's holding auditions for TV in a couple of months all the way in… Los Angeles. It's called 'America's Next Big Star.' I've been trying for years to break into singing and I haven't had much luck."
"Right, I'm following," This was where he wished he was fully repaired instead of the more compromised state he was in. While nothing critical was damaged, it was difficult to take in the words that his human companion was talking about without any proper referent. Los Angeles? He swore that city name was somewhere in his databanks, but he wasn't sure. America's Next Big Star also raised some flags, but even then, that was getting into the realms of trivia about this planet that were likely going to be subsumed under the much larger concerns of the war anyhow.
"I've been performing in bars for some time, but it's not a livelihood I can sustain for long. I've wanted to do the whole singing thing since I was a little kid, but now that I'm in a clearer head than I was…"
"Heh, you are. You don't seem as panicked as you were that night at that beach." Smokescreen couldn't help but quip back. He hoped that his attempt at pushing a button didn't come off too harshly, and to his delight, he heard the singer laugh.
"You really are a rascal, are you?" That, the Autobot couldn't deny. "As I was saying, I wasn't making good money as a singer. I worked throughout most of my young years making videos, training, trying to find development and artistry deals… it wasn't working. A lot of people were saying I either sounded incredibly outdated or just wasn't they were looking for. Which is fair, but… it didn't stop me, because this was really what I wanted to do, and it's hard to stop when you feel like you're in too deep."
"I… I understand that," Smokescreen couldn't help the heaviness that traced into his voice. "Keep going, man. I'll say more about me later. Think you're dancing around the point though. You wanted to go this place called Los Angeles right? For this show?" He also didn't grasp the connection between the two names he mentioned, though he just figured it was something that may have slipped from Roland's mind.
"I was getting there, but… yeah. That show…" He could hear a pause, leaving Smokescreen worried that his companion would lapse into another silence. "The reason why I bought up the names is because they're the names that inspired a lot of people to go into those types of shows. 'America's Next Big Star' is this… talent show on TV. From what I've heard and researched… it's a fast track to not just become famous, but a fast track to get a record deal and everything. Or at the minimum, have some sort of platform to build like a fanbase, which is just human speak for having people's attentions basically."
Now that genuinely confounded Smokescreen.
"Huh… but, why? I don't know much about human music to be fair, but… Ain't the whole point of being creative is that you just do it for its own sake or something? I mean I get the livelihood thing, but it seems like you all take it to the next level." He wasn't sure how to take the sorrowful chuckle that came in response to what he'd just said.
"That's been a debate going on for a long time, Smokescreen… a really long one." Roland responded. "I have my reasons for going. I'm still young but I don't know how much I want to keep fighting for this dream of being like Whitney or Celine. That show is… a really desperate attempt to do it, I'll admit. I have no expectation of winning, but… I want to keep fighting for it, y'know?"
It was in statements like that was where Smokescreen realized again and again that he kept finding some strange common ground with someone who hadn't even so much as even seen a lick of the combat between Autobots and Decepticons except for that brief tussle where he saved that human's life. That sense of aspiration… that sense of wanting to broach one's own station and be someone that can be more than who they are now. That sense of fighting and not stopping, letting determination be the very fuel to light one's way. Under a different inflection, Roland was scarily sounding quite like him in the Autobot Academy, except replace singers, television (whatever television even was) with enduring military training in a time where his home was on the verge of being lost forever.
"Anyway, I should've gotten to the point," It was another thing Smokescreen also noticed about Roland. Any explanation became far longer than was necessary and hearing him acknowledge that made the Autobot's chuckle loud enough to reverberate through the interior. "Los Angeles isn't too far from Tranquility. Once you're in Nevada… I can make my way there through bus as a last mile. I want to help you and… you're helping me basically."
"Heh, I had a feeling you were being a little bit clever." Smokescreen responded. Now came the prospect of explaining his side of the story to Roland, though the thought of doing so while needing to concentrate even just lightly was a bit of a daunting one. There was an errant thought in his processor to find a place in the next few hours and rest up. "I should've figured… though are you sure you don't want my help in leading you to this Los Angeles though? If it's not too far and if it's close to Tranquility…"
He could see Roland shaking his head immediately.
"It's fine. Just you agreeing to let me go with you is… more than enough, honestly."
This was where he wished he could smile at him. It was a sweet gesture even from someone who was still, largely speaking, a stranger. Maybe there was something to Roland's need to slow down when it came to conversations like this, and Tranquility honestly seemed like such a distant prospect even though it was but a day away in interrupted travel. Perhaps a few days' travel given potential human needs and other foibles.
"I'm finding ya…" Smokescreen wasn't sure if 'entertaining' was the right word to use. Well, Roland was an entertaining person to be around with, but he wasn't sure how to articulate that without potentially demeaning the singer. Given the literal size difference, there were connotations of the human being treated like some sort of pet. He was loathe to see him that way. "Is it bad that entertaining was the first word I had?" But his mind thought too fast for him to be careful.
He wasn't sure how to take the awkward laughter that devolved into a stream of guffaws that broke the monotony of the flatlands they drove through. It took a while for Roland to collect himself, though there was an audible attempt at trying to seem reserved.
"Entertaining?..." Was it possible he also took some offense to it? Smokescreen hoped that wasn't the case. "How? You're the… you're the first to ever call me that. People usually say I'm pretty boring or… maybe not standoffish, but…"
Though he wouldn't have phrased in that manner, it wasn't lost on Smokescreen how Roland's hopeless introversion could be taken in such a way. However, there was a strange sense of endearment in bearing witness to his awkward earnestness and innocence. The Autobot himself was still a painful greenhorn in the grander scheme of the war, but even he could see how seasoned Autobots with spunkier and more outgoing personalities could potentially overwhelm this poor little human in a nanoclick. The darker side to such a reserved personality entailed being another lost soul to the war, a spark snuffed without so much as even mercy.
There was a strange comfort to the awkwardness that Smokescreen was starting to realize as to why he had developed an amenableness to him. He was by far from a comrade in arms, but he wasn't sure what category with which to even place this young human in…
"Well, I'm inclined to disagree with them." Smokescreen tried to recenter his processor again, focusing on the immediate moment and getting them to St. Louis. He remembered to scan Roland's vital signs to ensure he wasn't facing some sort of undue stress. To his relief, everything seemed fine. "I know it's not the right word, if I had a dictionary this wouldn't be so hard but… I dunno."
It helped with that sense of not feeling so horribly alone, not that Smokescreen was anywhere close to ready to confess such a detail.
The drive continued with a modicum of casual conversation, with Roland pointing out the various sights about them. Given that the young human was far from a local, much of the description was mired in how much he didn't know about this state, or really, much of anything past the Chicago city limits. Springfield was the biggest patch of the city they would've encountered thus far that broke the streak of endless green and patches of road that constituted the middle parts of their travel. It took a lot of will, and a lot of coaxing from Roland, to not be tempted to activate the parts of his technology that would break the disguise and have them in Tranquility in a manner of mere hours.
That is, if the human-built infrastructure would even lead them to the right direction. For all Smokescreen knew, there was an even greater chance he could've led himself and his companion to parts unknown. It was a prospect that was tempting to the Autobot's mind, but still he tried to maintain his will as he availed himself of the sights of the city's border. It was a quick passthrough as Roland reminded him to keep on the Interstate 55.
As he drove, he tried to prepare his processor for the eventual prospect of being more forthright about who he was as an Autobot.
Just a bit an hour and a half would pass until Smokescreen would see signs of those rather large cities again. The day itself was still young when he saw the towering construction that was beginning to grow scarily familiar as clicks and breems passed to embed those sights within his processor. He could sense Roland's vital signs spike in anticipation, and it wouldn't be long until the singer would call for his attention.
"We're gonna cross our first state border soon," the singer began. "I think we're about to bear down upon St. Louis, at least from the Illinois side. I'm going to look up some good places to eat and stock up on some food. Are you okay with that being stored too?"
"It'll be fine, yeah. Just remind me not to transform when you have lots of it." The prospect of human food stuck in his gears was not a pleasant one. Granted, that line of thinking seemed to match with a lot of aspects about anything on Earth. "What do you have in mind in terms of food anyway? You holding up?" It was a strange set of questions to lob again, with Smokescreen fearing he might be displaying a bit too much concern.
It was the one thing he was trying to wrestle with: were humans sometimes really aware of how fragile they are?
"Definitely fast food. Don't look up some of the stuff they put in there, some of the things people put in there are… nasty." He wasn't sure whether to take it as a joke or as a warning. The Autobot assumed both.
The next hour or so entailed a process of Roland going in and out of various places within the city, the human pointing out some of the iconic marks that denoted that they were going in the right direction. The arch of St. Louis was one such indicator that some decent progress was being made, though given how much Roland was obvious a lost youngling around these parts, he knew that garnering some local information was going to be a difficult process. Smokescreen settled for a back and forth of going to some establishments he later learned were called fast food chains, in which even errant scans revealed just how awful the chemical and physical composition of these foods were. He could not say much as a Cybertronian who needed to subsist on energon, but some of the things that humans seemingly ordered on the regular (to the point of creating traffic queues on small roadsides) bordered on the deliberately lethal. Were humans really that fond of eating foods that could potentially hamper their health that badly?
As it turns out, they absolutely were. Smokescreen wasn't sure how to handle the prospect of grease being in his innards, even though he was hardly toting himself around in his true form in the city. He was glad in this case that Roland wasn't able to see the face he'd like to have pulled off in response to the food, the thought of that much oil and synthetic foodstuffs on his servos being one he could not even compute in his processors. If there was one thing he did appreciate, Smokescreen didn't quite mind the attention being placed in the vehicular form of his choice.
Appreciative looks from other humans were a nice distraction, as was Roland needing to bag some snacks from what looked to be a gas station for continued driving through the American Midwest en route to the south. For one human, he was rather surprised that his companion needed that many things to keep himself satisfied when it came to food. All of a sudden, what he remembered as Roland describing how humans could be high maintenance was beginning to resurface to his processor. Granted, it was not as if Smokescreen himself was in any rush either.
"Am I really just your errand 'bot, Roly poly?" He was so glad they weren't on one of those congested highways when he asked such a question. The shift in mood and the spike in stress was evident, but Smokescreen couldn't help but unleashing a laugh. It was partly true though, given the stopping and starting.
"Just poking at ya. Gotta say, you panic really easily."
"I know… I know," and conceded rather easily too. "Where did you get roly poly from, anyway?"
"Call it a hunch for a nickname, bud. Figured if you haven't tried to shorten my name, I'll try yours." The grin was evident in his voice, and Smokescreen had no doubt he'd be devilishly smiling at the singer had he been in his true form. "Joking aside, are you good?"
"I'm good to go. I'll try not to get you too dirty as I eat."
With directions in hand, Smokescreen eased them into another interstate freeway number while making sure to stop for breaks and letting Roland have some time to eat while stationary. The pace of the ride itself largely remained in silence, but Smokescreen was determined to find a moment where he and Roland would have a chance to talk one on one like they did back in Rosewood Beach. As soon as it began to grow dark, the human's growing exhaustion was plainly obvious from even minimal monitoring.
"Hey, do you need to stretch your pedes or anything?" Smokescreen would ask, catching Roland from his stupor as they were deep into Missouri, likely far and away from Illinois at this point.
"You mean… legs?"
"Sorry, yeah."
"I don't mind… I'll try to look for a place that wasn't too far."
It wasn't too difficult to find a place that seemed secluded enough for the both per the singer's guidance. Funnily enough, it was when Smokescreen also realized that human folk weren't exactly the most creative beings to dispense names on their cities, given that they would be encountering yet another Springfield in this state had the Autobot kept driving forth. Either way, the flat greenery and forestry did admittedly serve as a nice change of pace from the urban sprawl of the Midwest. This was one of the most fascinating things about Earth, in which its organic existence often found a way to coexist or at least bear the growth of humanity's rudimentary technology.
He felt like a stranger stepping upon a place that was apparently named Fellows Lake in the neighboring city of Strafford. Once the area became too uncomfortable to drive in and when he found a spot that would allow for Roland's belongings to be safe, that was when he finally transformed into the form that he was far more used to. Though the activation of his t-cog and the process of shifting from car to anthropomorphic being was something he was used to, his companion's shocked expression was a reminder that such a thing was still a novelty. He chuckled as he began to survey the local area, trying to keep abreast of any threat or sight.
Instead of sand, now he had to contend with dirt and shrubbery getting into his gears. This was an organic planet, and he knew that he had to get used to it. The contrast between urbanity and the wilds was a profound one to someone like Smokescreen, who began to take a curiosity in the many lifeforms, mostly small and even tinier in comparison to human beings, that his sensors picked up. What pulled him out of a developing reverie was the notification of no Decepticon threat nearby.
"No 'cons near, I think we're safe Roly." He could sense that allayed Roland's stress slightly. He couldn't help the grin that appeared on his faceplates when the human being looked back at him with an incredulous look at the nickname that seemed to be catching on.
"You were right, Smokescreen. I needed to stretch my legs and walk a bit. Can't believe I forgot about that."
That caused the Autobot to smile, though his reasons for stopping were more along the lines of wanting to make good on having a conversation that didn't entail them being on the road for hours on end. There was something about having to cart around an organic that made Smokescreen's instincts tend towards the temptation to slow down and be more cautious. As much as he had the burning desire to rush towards Tranquility and not look back, his reasons for doing so became far thinner when he had the welfare of another to contemplate.
"That common for you humans to forget to take care of yourselves sometimes?" He couldn't help but quip.
"Yeah…" And there wasn't so much as even an attempt at a retort. "I have a bad habit of… forgetting. To be truthful I didn't wanna slow us down…"
Sometimes Smokescreen still wasn't sure what to do with such an overbearing earnestness. He tried to step forward as gently as he could, navigating the cover of the trees near the lake and finding a spot where he could be nearby the singer without risking some sort of freak accident. The sudden show of vulnerability was itself something of a boon, given that he wanted to open up about the war at least.
Himself… Smokescreen would leave that to the side for now. Dueling factions of an alien race so far beyond humanity's reach would be more than enough for the human to attempt to even process.
"You're not slowing anything down, Ro… maybe Ro would be better than Roly poly, huh?" The quick nod from him was all the confirmation that Smokescreen needed for Roland's nickname preferences. It was enough levity to make the Autobot chuckle for a brief moment.
He wondered how long before Roland would catch onto shortening his name to some variation of Smokey.
"Still, you really aren't. I wanted to slow down for a bit. It's like that expression… oh what was it when you all say that you want to step out for air?" He couldn't help the confusion, but when taken literally, humans had some awfully strange sayings that led to some bizarre images to be conjured in his processors.
"To get some fresh air?..."
"That's the one! I… I'll get to the point. I owe you more about me… and about who my people are and why we're here, about the war. I think I'm getting the hang of this whole slowing down thing. You seem like a good listener." He hoped that would still be the case. "What do you say?"
"Only if you're comfortable Smokescreen. Begin where you want to and I'll listen for as long as you need, okay?"
That was all the reassurance he needed.
"So, you know… some of the reasons as to why we're here, right? Like why we're fighting?" It was easy enough to determine what he should say as soon as he saw Roland shake his head. "The war is a huge part of why we're on your planet, Ro. My home… Cybertron… it's just a dead husk now. I don't really have a planet to call him home." He paused as he uttered those words, fighting through a heaviness in his spark that was provoked by a well of emotion he hadn't worked through in the likely eons he was roaming about in the galaxies beyond.
"I'm sorry…"
Smokescreen raised a servo, giving him his best attempt at a gentle smile as his faceplates would allow.
"You got nothing to be sorry for, bud… this has been going on long before your race was even a thing. Us 'bots against the 'cons… that's the battle I've known since I graduated from the Autobot Academy." Smokescreen continued. "And for as long as I've known, really." In response, he received a slow nod from the human's way, which encouraged him to keep continuing.
"The 'cons… they're ruthless, Ro." His combat experience with them had been limited save for the faceless and nameless ones (at least, as far as he knew anyway) that seemed so endless. The deeply infamous ones such as Starscream and Soundwave were only enshrined in stories and threats to him. The rookie thus far had yet to even encounter a much more experienced Decepticon in this planet, even though the threat of facing such a graver threat seemed to continually grow real as the cycles bore on. "We've been at war with the 'cons for a long, long time. Longer than I know and definitely longer than you know." He paused there, allowing himself time to breathe and briefly organize what his processor was working through.
"Why… are they here? And what do they even want with humanity?..."
"I don't have any real answers to that, bud…" Smokescreen wished he did. The car doors that constituted his wings began to droop as he reflected upon the destruction that the Decpeticons constantly wrought. "Short of asking Optimus Prime himself, but that's why we're heading to Tranquility. What I do know is that if Optimus Prime is here… the Decepticons are going to be here too. They probably want nothing more than to have you all killed… enslaved probably too." He hated that he spoke of such speculative and strong statements so casually, but it was what he implanted into his processor for so many vorns. "They ain't the friendly type, like that 'con that tried to kill you when we were back in Chicago? Remember that?"
"I do… I remember yeah."
"My job is to protect people like you from 'cons like them." It was in here that a swell of pride coursed through Smokescreen's spark. "I meant it when I said I was trained to be a warrior. Wasn't too difficult to dispatch that glitch of a 'con anyway." He was admittedly trying to play too hard into his pride, but it was hard to resist the temptation to try and reassure his companion in this way.
The last thing he wanted for Roland to see was just how scared and alone he felt. The amazement in the human's eyes and the palpable reduction of stress were the effects he wanted to see.
"My job is to make sure us Autobots win… not for glory, even if that doesn't hurt." He'd be a hypocrite if he didn't admit to some form of that. "If we win, Optimus Prime could help restore Cybertron, we'd have a home again. I just…" He paused there, dancing away from the hope and faith that was too easy to get himself lost in, which would beget a homesickness that he didn't want to confront. "This has been going on for so long… and this is all I know. Eventually, there'll come a day when I gotta rise and fight."
And maybe, he'll meet the challenge he set for himself when he wanted something more than simply defending libraries and archives.
He paused there to give himself time to breathe, even if such an action wasn't really quite that necessary for an Autobot like him. What he was more concerned about was how Roland was taking in such information all at once. It was a start, but beyond the generalities he'd seen and maybe some skirmishes up in space, it wasn't as if he knew everything that had occurred on Earth itself except Optimus Prime's discovery of a sentient species. There would be much to catch up once he would reunite with his comrades, and even there… would it even be the 'Bots that he knew from Iacon?
He broke his train of thought when he saw Roland slowly approach. He wasn't sure how to read the expression or the body language that emanated from his small frame, though he saw the human begin to sit down and pat the dirt next to him. Smokescreen took a moment to ascertain the silent gesture, but there was an almost gentle and weary pleading in the singer's eyes that caused the Autobot to at least stave the thoughts of this forever war for this moment. He carefully navigated the dirt to try and sit closer to Roland, though his much larger form made it a herculean task to try and be cognizant of where the singer was and where his belongings were. After some effort, he was able to take a seat not too far from where the human was, close enough where he could probably easily take Roland into his servos.
To his surprise, he began to hear something similar to the humming that he heard from the young singer. He was quick to surmise that Roland began to sing, hearing actual lyrics beginning to emanate softly through the air. It took Smokescreen a while to find a footing to understand the lyrics, but he swore they were vaguely directed towards his way. However, more than just understanding what the lyrics were saying was hearing his companion's singing voice in full for the first time. There was something of a strain evident in his voice as his singing was kept low, though the Autobot's receptors were strong enough to capture the noise. There was an earnest emotionality to his singing that was far more apparent versus when he was just merely humming.
Each word was sung with a slow and careful cadence, with Roland letting each line linger for a few seconds as he began to gaze towards Smokescreen himself. It was enough for the Autobot to get a grasp that these words were directed towards him. There was a surreal quality to Roland's soft singing, something that entranced the Autobot and made him want to hear more. He almost shook his head when he the last line felt like a rather gentle call out towards his way… it was as if the young singer figured out Smokescreen's impulse for needing to appear as some sort of hot shot.
Hardcore, as Roland arched his head towards his way.
"Is that me?" Smokescreen asked. He expected him to be flustered and try to deny it, but the response he got was a careful nod.
"That's you…"
The whispered earnestness tugged at Smokescreen's spark a touch, as well as the innocence that was teeming in Roland's eyes as he said so. It was clear as day that the sentiment wasn't made in some sort of jest, but instead a sincerity that was dangerously bordering on the mawkish. He was about to prepare a response, though the singer figuratively beat him to the punch by walking forward slightly.
"There's this song I've been thinking about when you talked about Cybertron and said more about yourself."
The Decepticons felt like such an awfully distant memory now, universes away as the world seemed to fall strangely silent to his processor, even though his receptors were acutely aware of nature's sounds going on about them. Smokescreen only nodded for him to continue, though given how Roland was conducting himself in such a blissful manner, he wasn't sure if even uttering anything was necessary.
"I think I remember the chorus, it went something like…"
What he was not expecting for Roland's voice to project so loudly, no doubt disturbing the local wildlife. What was a strained yet sweet tone that was sung to a whisper had now become something louder, powerful even. Smokescreen wasn't sure if he had the words to describe whatever technique or style it was, but it took him aback slightly before he focused enough to focus on precisely what his companion was singing about. There was a roughness and exhaustion to the vocal to be sure, enough imperfections that he couldn't precisely paper over. Yet, underneath the roughness was that intense conviction that reverberated through each word, and if anything… the light grittiness, for a lack of a better word, gave some texture to what his receptors were picking up. The vocal was far from flawless, but never once was it a painful listen, and he could see from Roland that there was both some form of an experience and most definitely a sense of abandon, his eyes and demeanor being lost to song.
He sung so slowly, clearly going through each word as if in slow deliberation. Smokescreen did not miss the fact that there was a 'we' in the lyrics, with Roland's body language clearly oriented towards the Autobot's direction. The rookie, whether he knew it or not, found himself hooked onto what Roland was trying to say through song. He could see the young human raise a hand to orient himself, proclaiming in no uncertain words that they were far away from the shallow that preceded this moment. He saw the singer lay a hand down, opening his eyes to gaze up towards him in such a fragile anticipation. That was when Smokescreen took the cue to respond, who couldn't help but feel a sense of awe.
"Primus, Ro…" Was the first thing that Smokescreen said. He wanted to make a quip about how strange of a response as it was for someone to use singing as a response to what was ultimately an intensely shortened version of how to summarize the Autobot-Decepticon war. Yet, he stayed in silence, his optics following Roland's tentative approach and subsequently, sensing the singer's presence nearby his pedes.
"That's what you meant by singing, huh?" He tried to keep it casual, but instead he could only find himself falling into that sense of emotionality that Roland seemed to keep trading in almost constantly.
"Yeah…" was the response. "Since I was a kid, Smokescreen…"
"…I actually really liked that."
This was still shorter than a breem, yet for the few moments he witnessed his companion's singing, it was as if the war was but a distant thought in his processor. Maybe this was the temporary escape he so longed for, the ability to relish in another's life without worrying about whether or not there needed to be a threat to fight. All he saw was the beauty in art, and maybe even a beauty in humanity. As much as he yearned the sight of another Autobot to not feel so alone as the lone Cybertronian in this dynamic… at the same time, there would be something that would've been lost if the need to fight was in the forefront of his processor, perhaps even closing off his spark to a life that wasn't just the constant stream of battles and skirmishes.
Maybe there was something worth it in Roland's hopeful smile, one that even radiated in his eyes. It was followed with a grateful 'thank you,' one that verged in tears. Errant scans detected a rush of dopamine, especially in response to such praise. He wondered how often Roland even performed, or what his life was like before these set of circumstances brought them together. Still, those were questions better served for the future, and a part of him wanted to spend the moment in silence, to take a breather before having to hit the road.
He reached out a hand to gently lay a digit on Roland's shoulder. The startled look in Roland's eyes wasn't surprised, but to Smokescreen's delight, his companion didn't seem to resist at all. The area had long grown dark, and the human impulse to fall prey into exhaustion as soon as the sun had set would inevitably affect the singer, who began to inhabit the space between being asleep or awake.
This was beginning to grow beyond simply a duty to protect that was enshrined in the code of being an Autobot.
In this moment, Smokescreen made a silent vow to protect Roland.