If you're following this story at this point, please let me know with a review or a favorite/follow. I have more vignettes like these, but, unfortunately, I wrote them out of order. Again, please let me know if you want them posted. FYI, these are all, hopefully, part of the same fic-universe, although I write them to be read solo, if you want. This is the first time Annabelle really interacts with Optimus after he comes to live with the Lennoxes.
The cold snap had settled over the Lennox farm like a heavy blanket, the frost creeping across the windows and glinting under the pale moonlight. The barn groaned softly in the wind, the only sound cutting through the quiet night. Inside, Optimus Prime lay motionless on the massive pallet they had set up to accommodate his frame during his stays on the Lennox farm. His metal frame was faintly illuminated by the warmth of the heat lamps. The barn had become his refuge, but even as his systems recharged, his thoughts churned restlessly. He was far from the battlefields that had defined him, far from his Autobots, and far from the purpose that had given his existence meaning.
He had released them. His Autobots. Disbanded them from active duty and encouraged them to seek out lives of their own in this world. Even as he, himself, had struggled to do the same. His place on planet earth was a tenuous thing. He was now a leader without followers, and while he was glad to set them free, to let his Autobots find their own peace in this universe, he was nonetheless uncertain of his own future.
Such thoughts often consumed him. But tonight, something else caught his attention. The sound of muffled sobbing drifted through the chill air, faint but unmistakable. His optics flickered, brightening. It was Annabelle.
His audio-receptors had heard as the eleven-year-old darted out of the farmhouse, her emotions too overwhelming to face her mother. While Optimus was not entirely sure as to the specifics, he understood from what he had overheard that the idea of starting at a new school, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, loomed over her like a shadow. Her father, Colonel William Lennox, had always been her anchor, but now he was redeployed, and it seemed evident that she felt lost.
His infrared sensors told him that the distraught child was now crouched behind the barn, her knees drawn to her chest, her face buried in her arms, trying to quiet her cries.
Optimus hesitated for a moment, temporarily unsure what to do with that knowledge. His massive frame creaked slightly as he shifted. He knew Annabelle was wary of him—many humans were. He was a stranger. And a large one at that. His demeanor distant and reserved, nothing like the familiarity she'd known in her early childhood from Ironhide. To a young girl, he must seem more like a looming specter than a protector. Still, he could not ignore her sorrow, could not allow his human friend's offspring to cry without being comforted. Ordinarily, Will would have been the one to follow her, to console her. But Will was away, and Optimus doubted her mother, from whom she had just fled in tears, would be able to calm her.
Slowly, deliberately, he powered down the lamps and rose, his movements careful and deliberate so as not to startle her.
The barn doors parted with a soft groan as Optimus stepped out, his towering form cutting through the cold, moonlit night. He paused for a moment, scanning the shadows until he saw her small figure huddled behind the barn.
"Annabelle," he called gently, his deep voice resonating like distant thunder.
She flinched, her tear-streaked face peeking up at him. Her wide, frightened eyes met his glowing blue optics, and for a moment, she froze.
"I mean you no harm," Optimus said, his voice softer now, almost a whisper. He crouched down, bringing himself closer to her level. "You are… troubled."
Annabelle didn't answer right away. Her breaths hitched as she wiped her face with the sleeve of her coat, trying to steady herself. Finally, she managed a small, shaky nod.
"I miss my dad," she admitted, her voice barely audible. "And… I don't want to go to that stupid new school."
Optimus regarded her for a long moment, his ancient, weathered face unreadable. There was little he could say to ease her fears, not when she was so clearly upset. After a pause, he extended his massive hand, palm up, toward her. "Do you want to see the stars?"
Distraction was perhaps the only consolation he could offer.
Annabelle blinked, her tears momentarily forgotten. She hesitated, looking at his hand, then back at his face. Despite her fear, there was something in his voice—steady and unwavering—that made her want to trust him.
Tentatively, she stepped forward and climbed into his hand, her small figure dwarfed by the smooth metal. His fingers curled gently around her, shielding her from the cold as he lifted her upward. She gasped softly as he placed her on his shoulder, and he was certain the world suddenly felt much smaller from her new vantage point.
The sky opened up before them both, an endless expanse of stars twinkling against the inky blackness. He heard Annabelle's breath catch in her throat. She had seen the stars before, of course, but likely never like this, from so high up and with such vivid clarity of the horizon.
"They are constant," Optimus said after a moment, his voice rumbling softly. "No matter where you are, no matter how far you travel, the stars remain. They remind us that nothing is ever truly forgotten, that all will be well, if given enough time."
Annabelle stared up at the sky, her fear and sadness easing, if only a little. "They're beautiful," she whispered.
"Indeed," Optimus agreed, his tone carrying a quiet reverence. He let the silence linger, giving her the space to find comfort in the stillness. Letting the awe of their beauty wash over her. Minutes passed and the little girl continued to stare upwards, her tears forgotten, as Optimus described each star in terms of first hand experience that would've made a human astronomer weep with jealousy.
It was almost an hour later that Sarah Lennox stepped out of the farmhouse, apparently searching for her daughter. Her sharp gaze landed on the barn, then drifted upward to where Annabelle sat perched on Optimus Prime's shoulder, her silhouette outlined against the starlit sky.
"Annabelle!" she called, a mix of relief and exasperation in her voice.
Annabelle looked down, guilt flickering across her face. "Mom…" she began, clearly unsure of what to say.
Sarah approached cautiously, her arms crossed against the cold. She looked up at Optimus, her expression softening as her eyes settled on his servos wrapped tightly around her daughter. "Thank you," she said quietly.
Optimus inclined his head. "She needed to see the stars," he told her simply. It was all the explanation that was needed.
Sarah nodded, the half-smile creeping over her face was grateful and knowing. "Come on, sweetheart," she said to Annabelle, her tone gentle. "Time to come inside."
Reluctantly, Annabelle climbed down from Optimus's hand as he lowered her to the ground, but as she stepped back toward the farmhouse, she glanced over her shoulder. "Thank you, Optimus," she said, her voice small but sincere. There was no longer any fear in her eyes when she looked at him, that had been glazed over instead with starlight.
As Optimus watched her go, a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as a faint sense of purpose stirred within him, an echo of a person he had all but forgotten how to be. He had lost much, but here, on this quiet farm, perhaps he could still be something more than a warrior, more than a leader.
Perhaps he could simply be a tired soul who helped a human sparkling to get a better look at the stars.
I have one more vignette with a slightly older Annabelle coming up after this. Thank you to my loyal favoriters/followers on this story AngelBlue1852; Battle hymn of the republic; Cheburashka003; Rayna Roeder; daisyalex0790; jynkx.