Arcee was having one of her days. That day all occupants of the base knew to steer clear. She felt like her processor was going to overload and the sound of Mikos band practice wasn't a greeting many would welcome. After the patrol, Arcee hoped to be greeted with quiet and comfort of the outpost. That did not happen.
Marching past Bulkhead and Miko attempting to be rockers she made a beeline to the hallway leading deeper into the base. She needed a good recharge and quiet to come out of this mood. Ignoring Rachets call to fill in her report she simply waved him off. She knew he understood what was happening by the lack of more nagging.
Storming down the hall she almost ran into Smokescreen. Not even bothering to apologize she swiftly sidestepped the larger mech and made her way down the hall. She was in her room not even a click later.
She allowed her creaking joints a break by sitting on her berth. Placing her helm in her servos, she thought of what lead to this mood.
Surprisingly it wasn't anything related to the relics or their current situation with the cons. No, this mood was brought on during her patrol. Particularly one color.
The color was on a simple van that passed her on the road. Nothing noteworthy besides them speeding, which she found most humans did. Humans were strange, if they made a rule why don't they follow it.
The color of the speeding sedan brought back memory files. Ones she desperately tried to bury over the vrons.
It wasn't the fact they were all horrible memories, most were amazing and love-filled, despite being tinged in sadness and grief. All those happy memories were forever tainted in that light. There was no changing those facts, no matter how much she blamed herself. The what-ifs and blame game was something she was very familiar with. So were most of the bots in the base. War had a sickening way of bringing most into a similar mindset on some things. Loss was one of those major similarities.
Knowing there was only one way to end this she allowed the memories to wash through her.
Flashes of a mechs smiling face, echos of his bad jokes, and his strong figure flashed by. Images rapidly changed from workshops with models of inventive designs scattered about to an Energon pub where he was surrounded by friends, enjoying his life. His small smile in place, happiness twinkling in his optics.
The scene changed once more to watching races and cheering friends on. Metal plating bumping into one another thanks to the rowdy crowd around them. The feeling of safety from his presence filled her spark with pleasant warmth.
Racing changed to a crowded room, friends once more chatting and laughing. "When are you going to go for it, you know he's been waiting." A familiar voice whispered in her audio receptor, her optics on the said waiting Mech. He turned and waved with that smile he had only for her. That image faded only leaving the golden glow of his optics, one of her favorite colors still to this day.
Opening her optics she felt something touching her pedes. Looking down she saw what caused it.
Jack.
Human, fragile, and so very young. His blue eyes held wisdom and something that always sent a little pain in through her spark. The same twinkle as his.
Different faces, different times, and different species but the same look. The same way they smile.
She smiled a reassuring smile at Jack. She would be okay. She will protect him. The human she thought of as a little brother. No, I must protect.
She made that vow to a Mech long gone. A Mech with golden optics that contrasted against his white and oceanic blue plating.
The same colors the van sported not even an hour ago.
'I won't fail, Tailgate'
