To the younglings' relief, Ultra Magnus was gone after only one day. According to Mirage, that was a record. Usually, he tried to spend a week or two with them, criticizing everything he saw. Everybody else was so happy that he was gone, but Silverstorm felt guilty. He knew that he'd lost his temper, but he didn't know how much damage he'd done. The Prime had gone to lay in his berth and was brooding when Mirage came in.

"Hey, Prime," Mirage said, standing in the doorway. "Are you okay?"

Silverstorm shrugged, idly scrolling through one of Mirage's datapads.

Mirage smiled, leaning on the door frame. "That's a no." He paused. "We tried to tell you about Magnus."

"I'm not angry at Magnus," Silverstorm grumbled. He looked up from the datapad. "I'm angry at myself."

"What? Why?"

"Because I lost my fragging temper for the four millionth time. I shouldn't have snapped at him. I shouldn't have shown off. I should have talked calmly to him, and then maybe he wouldn't have stormed off thinking I'm the most irresponsible glitch he'd ever come into contact with!"

Silverstorm slammed his head into the wall. Mirage stared at him then walked over and plopped down onto his berth.

"No use whining over spilled energon, Silverstorm," he said. "I think you were amazingly calm, all things considering."

"That was your definition of calm?" Silverstorm growled.

"When it comes to Magnus? Yes," Mirage said slyly, smirking. "If there was ever a mech that brings out the worst in people, it's him. Sunny explodes every time he comes here, and this was one of the few times he hasn't tried to hit him. And did you see the look on his face when you calmed us down without a word? He couldn't believe you have that much power over us. He knows you've been here for only a month or so. The last time he visited was a couple months ago. He nagged us about everything."

"But I want to know why he does that," Silverstorm said. "I want to know why he doesn't think you're ready to have weaponry! There has to be some kind of reason, and I don't think it's because he really thinks you're not ready. He didn't protest at all when Sunstreaker and Sideswipe showed off their swordsmanship in front of him. He seemed impressed, at least reluctantly so. It makes no sense!"

Mirage frowned at him. "Why do you care so much?"

"I don't know," Silverstorm muttered. "I want to understand. I think more could be gained with him than without him. He knows the situation with you and the other younglings scattered around. I'm sure he was appointed by Optimus. And Optimus never does anything without a reason." He paused then grumbled to himself. "Even if it's a fragged-up reason."

Mirage traced a meaningless pattern on the soft metal of his berth. "You never talk about him to anybody but Primus."

Silverstorm glanced over. "So?"

"Is he really that bad?"

The Prime exhaled, tilting his head back so he could study the ceiling. "I'm not the most unbiased person when it comes to talking about him."

"Still, I want your opinion."

The silence filled the room as Silverstorm considered everything he knew about Optimus. He was still so angry at him, but he could also understand why the mech had said and done what he had. After a few minutes, he sighed.

"Optimus has a lot on his processor," he finally said. "He's a brilliant leader, an amazing strategist, an incredible fighter, and a great listener."

Mirage could sense the word. "But?"

"But I think he's been a mech for too long," Silverstorm said bluntly. "And he's been around fully grown mechs for way too long. He never really had any compassion about how I functioned and felt. He expected me to be a mech instead of a youngling, and I guess all of the pressure got to be too much. There was always this expectation for me to be immature, so that's what he saw. The angrier I became, the more pressure he put on me. It got to the point where the slightest provocation would set me off. I hurt so many members of my own species, or the species I used to be, and I regretted every single one. But no matter what I did, no matter what he did, it never got any better."

Mirage studied him. "That's because he never dealt with what was actually wrong. And I'm guessing you didn't know what was wrong, or else you could have told him."

"That about sums it up," Silverstorm said miserably. "And I don't know when I'll see him again, but…" He went quiet, and his optics flickered as a painful thought crossed his mind.

"What's wrong, Silverstorm?" Mirage probed. "What are you thinking?"

"The next time I see him, he'll be disappointed in me."

Mirage frowned. "Why would he be disappointed?"

"Because I'm a Prime."

That only confused Mirage even further. "What do you mean? That's a good thing, isn't it? He'll see how responsible you are, how mature and smart you are. He'll realize everything he thought about your maturity was wrong… won't he?"

Silverstorm let out a hiccuping whine, and he sat up, gripping his forearms as he stared with flashing optics. "N-no, Raj. He'll think it was a mistake." He leaned forward and moaned. "It was a mistake. I should go and tell Primus that he made a mistake. He should take away my title."

Mirage was so startled by that statement that he laughed. Silverstorm turned to glare at him, soft clicks and whines leaving his vocalizer. Mirage quickly stopped laughing, and he stood up and sat down beside his Prime. Silverstorm leaned into him even as he maintained an angry stare.

"You already tried that, Prime," Mirage said. "And he said no. He's going to say the same thing if you go and tell him that he made a mistake."

"But—" Silverstorm started.

"I think the main issue is that you don't see what we see," Mirage cut in.

"What do you see?" the Prime challenged.

"I'll answer that, but you tell me what you see first."

The answers jumped to Silverstorm's vocalizer at once. "A bumbling, inexperienced, immature youngling who messes up everything he touches, and no matter how old he gets, he's never going to be good enough for Optimus and the other mechs he lived with."

Mirage clicked his glossa. "You really think that, eh?"

"It's the truth," Silverstorm muttered.

A laugh sounded out, and the two younglings looked up to see the other eight younglings watching them.

"How long have you been eavesdropping?" Silverstorm asked.

"Long enough," Sunstreaker replied.

He strode in, followed by the others. They all leaned against the wall or the thick windows and stared at their Prime.

"You really think you're worthless, don't you?" Sunstreaker asked.

Silverstorm shrugged half-heartedly. "It's the truth," he repeated.

"It will be if you keep saying and believing that," Pipes said. Silverstorm looked at him quizzically. "I've studied some psychology," the medic said, shrugging. "And let me tell you, Prime, if you keep putting yourself down, you'll never have the will or ability to pull yourself up and go on."

There was a pause, and Mirage nudged Silverstorm. "Do you want to hear what we see when we look at you?"

"A miserable failure?" Silverstorm guessed.

There was an immediate reaction of derisive snorts and outright laughter at those words. Silverstorm looked around, surprised.

"I see a leader being born," Mirage said. "Every leader has to start from somewhere, and we get to see your journey."

Sideswipe grinned, pulling his knife from the sheath at his hip. "I see a teacher who is taking the time to teach us everything about fighting, starting with basics that we should have already known." He twirled the knife then sheathed it again.

Sunstreaker tilted his head. "I see somebody who will take the time to listen to stupid problems." He paused. "And he doesn't laugh at them, either."

Pipes smiled. "I see a youngling who is figuring out his place in the world, with a little help from Primus. That's only natural." He paused then chuckled. "Well, the first part is. I don't think many get such direct help from Primus."

Blurr tapped his foot against the ground, channeling his usual overflow of energy. "I see a leader who is willing to stop and help somebody who can't always control his thoughts, words, and actions to the degree that most his age could."

"And who encourages his friends to be the best they can be, flaws and all," Beachcomber added. "No matter their personality."

"I see an adventurous youngling who is curious about everything and ready to share his knowledge with everybody," Hound said, winking.

Seaspray burbled happily. "I see somebody who tries his hardest no matter what he does."

There was a pause, and Red Alert shifted and met Silverstorm's optics. "I see a stranger who is no longer a stranger who stopped and took the time to improve the lives of a group of younglings who honestly never thought anything good would ever happen to them on a big, war-t0rn planet where half the remaining population wants to murder them and the other half are in hiding and refuse to even acknowledge that there are those who are worse off than they are."

Silverstorm looked at each of them, one by one, bewildered and pleased. "Do you all really see that in me?" he asked, a bubble of happiness swelling in his spark.

"Of course," Mirage said. "You're too hard on yourself. Yeah, you lost your temper with Magnus, but you're only a Cybertronian. We're all fallible and prone to our emotions, especially as younglings. But you're not stuck being immature. Believe it or not, we've all grown up. And we still have a lot more growing to do. And you're welcome to grow up with us."

Silverstorm let out a pleased squeal, his optics sparkling. The others all laughed at the noise. Usually it was only sparklings that made such a noise, but they all knew at once that their Prime was very happy. Mirage squeezed him.

"See? Your perspective is skewed. You see the worst in yourself because that's what you've been trained to do with those mechs. But I don't think they meant to pressure you so much. And with the constant pressure, you had no time to explore what was wrong with yourself, so you couldn't fix the situation."

Silverstorm tapped his chin thoughtfully. "You know something, Raj? You're right. I've seen the negative in myself for so long that it's become normal. But I wasn't always like that. Back on my first trip to Cybertron, I was happier and saw myself better. I was much more human then, and I think that made Kup and his team see me differently. It was going back to Earth that started my descent into hating myself."

"Did you want to go back to Earth?" Pipes asked.

Silverstorm shook his head at once. "I didn't. Kup and his team wanted to be with the other mechs. I had no choice but to go back. I was happier here."

"Do you hate your home planet?" Red Alert asked.

"Hate it?" Silverstorm asked. He looked through the window at the ever-present stars. "No. But I knew that they would never understand me after I was changed by the Primes. Kup and his team never did put pressure on me like Optimus, Ratchet, and Bumblebee did, even once we arrived on Earth. Those who knew me as a human expected different things when I came back."

"Maybe they didn't know what to think of everything that happened to you," Pipes suggested. "Prolonged absence often boosts positive thoughts about the missing person or object, while being around said person or object encourages you to see the negative aspects of them."

Silverstorm laughed. "We have a couple of sayings on my planet. Let's see if I can translate them." He paused, considering, then said, "Absence makes the spark grow fonder, but familiarity breeds contempt."

Pipes clapped. "Exactly! Exactly!"

"As for what you said, Pipes," Silverstorm said slowly. "I think everything hit me hard when I got back to Earth. I didn't know who I was anymore. I wasn't human. I wasn't Cybertronian. And I didn't know how to find out who I was, either. So if I didn't know who I was, how could they be expected to know? I even lied about who I was and didn't tell them for weeks that I wasn't dead." He paused. "It was a confusing situation that never really improved."

"Maybe next time you see them, you'll have some of that figured out," Mirage suggested.

Silverstorm smiled and reached up to trace the silver and gold design on his head. "Primus has already started helping with that," he said. "As for the rest, we'll work on it."

Mirage clapped him on the back and stood up. "We should do something! I'm tired of moping around. Magnus is gone and he won't be back for a couple of months. Let's give him something to stare at next time he's here, yeah?"

There was a chorus of agreement, and Silverstorm stood up. "Let's go and work on the house next door. We'll turn this into a populated neighborhood yet."

They all filed out the door, and as they stepped into the street, Silverstorm looked toward the temple. He saw a golden streak that told him that Primus was quite proud of him. Mirage was the only other youngling to notice, and he nudged him, grinning. Silverstorm's optics grew warm, and he shrugged as they headed next door to continue renovating the property.