He knew his carrier loved him. She said it everyday. When he woke up and went into the kitchen. When he left for school. When he came back from it and when he went to recharge.

But he would still always doubt it. Some thoughts always crashing into his helm, making him stare at his carrier in longing. Waiting for her to one day turn her back on him and end up hating him.

His sire was barely home either, but he also said that he loved him. But he knew words were very deceiving sometimes. And he could only hope that wasn't the case with his family unit.

He hated those thoughts, that made you rethink everything, and if it was true.

He kept a journal as well, just to jot down some of the thoughts as they came and went. That journal was always on him. It was the only way to get rid of the thoughts. If he jolted them down quick enough, it was as if the thoughts were leaving his helm and transferring onto the datapad.

Sometimes it worked.

This was a time when it didn't.

He had tried to jot it down. But the thoughts kept coming in, not going away.

He was staring blankly at the wall across from his berth, where he was laying. When he felt like this, he always laid down and pulled the covers over him and hoped they would slowly fade away.

They usually went away after a while, sometimes quicker or slower.

You're just an inconvenience to your friends. That was Unrain.

Yes, he had a destinations to call his thoughts. Because sometimes they weren't even his own it seemed. It was as if they were their own living being going into his helm and saying that stuff.

There were three voices. Unrain, the one who always said that he was a disappointment to his family unit and friends. Welldown, the one who always grumbled at him when he did badly on a test, saying that he was a failure, that he would never succeed. Then there was Hellire, the one who pointed out the flaws in him, if he was eating too much, or he didn't look good, that he would never be able to get a sparkmate.

All three had very weird personalities. At least he thought so. Unrain usually was calm when he was talking, Welldown was grumpy, and Hellire was disgusted a lot. It made sense, sorta.

He knew many others would call him crazy if they found out that he called his 'voices' actual destinations. Or that he had them at all. It was one of the ways he coped though.

Insults from real cybertronians just brushed past him, but when it was in his actual helm, it was much harder.

He wished they would go away. Because sometimes it got too much.

But he knew he couldn't tell anyone. He was a happy youngling.

At least to everyone else.

1()1

So this was basically a vent. I needed to write something before I went crazy about some stuff that's happened.

Everyone has doubts, no one can avoid them. So if you ever have doubts, that's okay.

So I hope you enjoyed this really sort oneshot. You can imagine who you want it to be, since I never specified. It could be Prowl, Ironhide, heck, even Huffer if you wanted too. I never really had someone in mind when I was writing this.

Anyways, I hope you have a good day/night everyone!