Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rodimus sat on Ultra Magnus' desk, gently swinging his legs, and facing said bot. It had been so busy the past few months that the couple had only seen each other when the moon had shone on the land. The pair shared quarters but by the time they got into them they were exhausted and in no mood for anything more than recharge and a quick goodnight kiss.

Optimus had given the pair the cycle off after seeing just how stressed they were. Magnus was even more tense than usual, much to the medics' annoyance, and he had even snapped at Rodimus a few times. Rodimus hadn't been as cheerful, he was quieter and hadn't joked around.

Magnus' optics locked with Rodimus' and he released a low, rumbling growl, his engine revving. Rodimus' optics widened a bit, squeaking as Magnus picked him up and plopped him in his lap. Magnus wrapped an arm around the hot rod's waist, then gently tilted Rodimus' head up before capturing the red, orange and yellow bot's lips with his. Rodimus gave a small shiver at the feeling of Magnus' soft lips on his. They both shuttered their optics and pressed closer together, chest plates colliding with a soft clang.

Magnus flicked his glossa over Rodimus' lips silently demanding entrance. Rodimus obliged and moaned softly as Ultra Magnus pushed his glossa inside his mouth. Ultra Magnus' engine started to rumble, sending vibrations over his frame. Rodimus' engine followed but it was higher pitched than Magnus'.

Rodimus deepened the kiss and half-heartedly battled with Magnus for dominance. Magnus tilted his head so he could deepen the kiss more as well. He reached an arm behind Rodimus to the smaller bot's spoiler. He gently rubbed it causing Rodimus to melt into his embrace, giving up on the dominance battle. Magnus growled with approval and deepened the kiss more, his glossa exploring the cavern. Rodimus' spoiler twitched and the hot rod moaned again, the sound being absorbed by the heated kiss.

They broke the kiss panting, their frames heating. Their fans roared at the highest setting and their engines clocked over a gear in unison. Rodimus caught his breath then grabbed the collar of Magnus' armour, pulling him down into another deep kiss. It was now Magnus' turn to moan. Rodimus pushed his glossa inside Magnus' mouth as the truck moaned.

The pair pressed closer together, Magnus forgetting about stroking Rodimus' and instead just having his hand rest there. Magnus let Rodimus take control of the kiss, enjoying the display of dominance from the small bot. Rodimus revved his engine and reached a hand up to Magnus' finals, gently stroking them. A full body shudder ran through Magnus and the blue bot groaned.

The pair broke apart panting again, but didn't stay that way long. Magnus pulled Rodimus into another passionate, heated and deep kiss, immediately taking control of it. Rodimus shuddered and stopped stroking Magnus' finals, instead bracing his hand on Magnus' chest. Magnus pulled Rodimus closer, tilting his head to make the kiss even more passionate, heated and deep. Their engines revved in unison before clocking over another gear. The room filled with the sound of roaring engines and cooling fans.

First Aid walked down the hallway towards Magnus' office, around a dozen datapads in his arms, all of them relating to the battle only two cycles ago. The young medic's visor flashed as he almost dropped the datapads. The small white and red bot quickly straightened them up and continued towards Magnus' office. Aid pressed the button to open the office door as he reached it, surprised when he found it wasn't locked, the door sliding open.

First Aid squealed with surprise and dropped the datapads he was carrying when he saw the scene before him, the young medic's face flushing bright blue. Ultra Magnus and Rodimus quickly broke the passionate kiss. From the haste Rodimus fell off Magnus' lap after pushing away too swiftly. The hot rod squeaked as he fell on the floor with a clang. Magnus and Rodimus both flushed bright blue.

First Aid quickly spun around and dashed out of the office, the door closing behind him. The poor young medic's face was flushed bright blue and he wrapped his arms around his body as he ran off towards the med bay, the bot's he passed giving him looks of confusion. Aid dashed inside of the med bay without looking causing him to crash into Ratchet. Ratchet yelped and quickly grabbed onto Aid so he didn't fall over. Aid didn't look up at his mentor but just buried his face in the older medic's shoulder, trying to hide from his horrible embarrassment.

Ratchet chuckled and wrapped an arm around the smaller bot's shoulders. "Rodimus was in there with Magnus right?" Aid nodded into Ratchet's shoulder "Was pretty heated in there?" another nod "You dropped all the datapads and dashed back out again?" Aid whined softly with embarrassment.

Ratchet chuckled again and gently squeezed Aid before releasing him "You'll be alright."

"I thought the door was locked." Rodimus said as he got off the floor.

"So did I." Magnus rumbled, still terribly embarrassed.

Rodimus giggled as he looked at Magnus "You're very adorable when embarrassed."

He leaned up on the tips of his peds, grasping Magnus' arm for support and gently kissed the blue bot's cheek. He giggled again when Magnus blushed further.

Chapter Text

Gentle ventilations sounded as the red and yellow frontliners curled close together on the rec room couch, arms wrapped around each other. Their faces were buried in the other’s shoulder, legs entwined together. Both twins were in a deep recharge, a larger than normal datapad, built for drawing, and stylus sat on the arm of the couch.

The bots in the rec room just smiled softly, warmed by the sight of the twins. It wasn’t often they had down time, and they treasured every moment.

Miko giggled quietly, from her place by Bulkhead and Wheeljack, and used her phone to snap a picture of the twins. Wheeljack just smirked and held a fist out for the girl, who bumped her fist with his.

Sunstreaker cracked a blurry optic open, closed it, before opening both, his vision cleared. He glared at the pair of Wreckers and girl before shifting. Sides whimpered as his brother moved, snuggling closer. A soft smile cover Sunny’s face. He gently stroked his twin’s helm before placing a soft kiss to it, silencing his whimpers.

Miko snapped another picture as Sunstreaker kissed Sideswipe, grinning widely.

Sunny pulled his arm free and reached for his drawing pad and stylus. He brought the sketch pad in front of him and turned it on. He lowered the stylus to the pad and his hand started to flow over the page, as Sides snuggled closer.

Chapter Text

It was rare for the Autobots to see their Prime show darker emotions, but when he did it struck all of them. It was normally in the presence of the command staff, Optimus’ most trusted friends. Though there were a few occasions where it happened in front of others.

But there was one unwritten rule. Don't let the humans see.

None of the Autobots had a clue as to how they would react, and none were willing to find out. Their human friends knew they had ways of coping but had never experienced it, nor did they wish to.

Most humans though thought it was all happy go lucky, that the Autobots didn't suffer from all that had happened to them. Like they weren't bothered at all by the events that had experienced.

And of course, those humans were terribly incorrect. Every Autobot suffered. Jazz hates the deeds he has committed. Prowl regrets every casualty that was caused by a fault in his plans. Ratchet mourns for every life he failed to save. The list goes on and on and on.

But none had suffered as much as Optimus.

He hid it well. But sometimes it all became too much. The overwhelming mourning he could feel in his chest, from his spark and the matrix, for every life lost. Thinking about what he had done and caused. He constantly thought about how he could have tried harder to get Megatron to see reason. To stop the war.

And if only they had noticed their planet, their home, start to die before it was too late. Why didn't they stop the war then and there?

There were so many questions. And it was only a matter of time before the Autobot leader couldn't take it any more. Before he broke down into a sobbing mess. His SIC and TIC the only witnesses. The only ones to provide what comfort they could.

Chapter Text

Prowl was always seen as emotionless. His EM field blank, face stony, optics icy and doorwings unmoving. He always kept his emotions in check, keeping up that cool mask in the presence of his soldiers.

The crew may not think highly of him, spread rumours behind his back, thinking he didn't know. They may dislike him, hate him even, but he cared.

They thought he was sparkless for the decisions he made, showing no emotion when he sent mecha to their deaths. But they crew didn't see underneath how each time it slowly broke him.

His barrier was slowly crumbling. Each taunt, each insult, each mech sent to their death, each injury. Every one of those things and more cracked at his shield.

Soon, the dam would break and nothing would be able to stop it. Even Prowl’s legendary mask and barrier would be fruitless.

It was in the rec room when it happened. When everything became to much and finally overwhelmed the Praxian. 

It was right after a major mission gone wrong. Prowl’s plan had backfired spectacularly, many killed and more injured. None escaped unharmed.

It was rare for him to leave his office but Optimus and Jazz had managed to drag him out. They sat at a table in the middle, one large enough for Optimus to be comfortable, and make Jazz appear as a dwarf.

It started out fine. They chatted idly and drank their Energon, bypassing any talk of the mission and ignoring the injuries Jazz had sustained from it.

Prowl tried to ignore the whispering of the others in the room. Ignore how they glanced at him quickly before continuing to whisper. Some of the words drifted into his hearing range. Sparkless, cold, emotionless, drone; being some of the more lighter insults. If Jazz or Optimus heard they made no acknowledgment.

It slowly built up, getting worse when Optimus was forced to leave for a meeting. Even worse when Jazz was called to the medbay by an irate Ratchet. Prowl sat there awkwardly, shoulders hunched, wings closer than normal, head down and optics dim.

He could hear everything they said. They made little to no effort in concealing what they were saying. It stung. Stabbed at his barrier and spark. His battle computer fritzing from the conflict with his emotions.

Prowl quickly lost interest in the half full cube in front of him. His barrier become fragile as the insults flooded his mind. It started to close in on him. Surrounding him from all sides. His processor repeated the words over and over and over.

“ Worthless. Cold. A drone. Emotionless.”

Prowl didn't notice his ventilations pick up. The words and stares just kept closing in.

“ Why are you even here? You don't belong.”

Prowl curled up and clutched at his helm. He started to hyperventilate, frame over heating. He just couldn't get rid of the words or stares.

It seemed like ages Prowl was trapped in that mental state. He was so unaware he didn't even realise the battle computer had shut itself down.

Pedsteps pounded against the ground, drawing attention to the door. Ratchet rushed in, Red Alert, Jazz and Optimus close behind him. Ratchet skidded to a halt in front on the the Praxian that was more of a shaking ball with wings.

“Prowl…” Jazz breathed.

Ratchet’s optics sharpened and he stood up, waving a wrench. “All of you scram!” The medic growled and revved his engine, harsh optics burning into the mecha filling the rec room.

The rec room swiftly emptied, leaving only Prowl, Ratchet, Jazz, Red Alert and Optimus.

Ratchet gently placed his hand on Prowl’s shoulder. The mech startled, squeaked and sharply jerked away, falling out of his chair in the process. Everyone looked down at the shaking pile on the floor.

“What happened!? He was fine when I left!” Jazz whispered.

“He has had an anxiety attack. A bad one.” Ratchet murmured. “Optimus try talking to him. He might recognize your voice the best. The deepness of it is also incredibly soothing.”

The Prime nodded and knelt down in front of the Praxian. “Prowl…”

The chevroned mech’s head immediately shot up and he looked at the semi with terrified, teary eyes. Optimus went mellow and scooped the patrol car into a hug. Prowl snuggled into his superior, burying his face in the broad chest.

Optimus wrapped an arm around Prowl’s waist the other gently stroking between his doorwings. The Autobot leader murmured nonsense, letting the smaller mech cry.

The others settled around in a sort of protective circle around Prowl. Like Optimus they wrapped their fields around the SIC,  flooding them with care, affection and soothing.  

Nobody bothered to keep track of how much time they sat there, comforting the upset Praxian. They ignored the fact they had work to do, and meetings to attend. They were active military personnel, and sometimes things happened.

No other bot came near the rec room. Terrified of Ratchet would do to them if they dared. None even dared to think about what Prime, let alone Jazz would do.

When Prowl stopped shaking and sobbing everyone visibly relaxed a bit.

“Prowl. How are you feeling?” Ratchet asked softly.

The Praxians wings have a few flicks. “Tired, upset and low on energy.” His voice was hoarse and staticy.

Jazz jumped up and went over to the Energon dispenser. He swiftly returned with a cube for Prowl. The short mech held it out to the patrol car. Prowl gratefully took the cube and briefly pulsed gratitude in his field towards Jazz.

Prowl quickly finished up how Energon and Ratchet scanned him.

“You gave us quite the scare Prowl,” Ratchet said softly “When Red Alert commed us we were all terrified. Please. Go to Jazz, Optimus, myself. Just someone you trust, before this happens again please.”

Prowl nodded and snuggled closer to Prime’s chest, relishing in the safe feeling he felt surrounded by most of his closest friends. Soon Prowl was lulled into recharge by the gentle purr of Prime’s engine.

Chapter Text

Prowl drove quietly through the busy city of New York. The local police force had needed someone to fill in a few patrols for the day and Prowl had jumped at the chance once offered. The Praxian had been in the base too long and was in desperate need of a drive, not to mention an escape from the madness that’s Autobot base. .

Prowl slowed to a stop as the traffic light went red, waiting patiently for it to turn green once more. He wasn’t waiting long, and gently revved his engine, then drove forward. Prowl was in the lane closest to the waiting traffic so when some moron decided to run a red light - without paying any attention what so ever - Prowl was the one to receive the full force of the collision.

The car slammed into his driver’s side door, pushing a blood curdling scream from the Datsun. Prowl was shoved into the car beside him, crushing his other door wing, forcing a squeal from him. Silence followed the squeal, all traffic stopped due to the collision, or shock. Everyone at the intersection, and down the streets, heard the pained sounds. All turned and/or looked in the direction they came from.

“What was that!?”

“Who was that!?”

“Which vehicle did the screams come from!?”

People asked as some drivers, and their passengers - if they had any - exited their vehicles to help the people out of the cars involved in the accident. Prowl shook with pain, the sensitive sensors in his doorwings going haywire.

“Hey! There’s no driver in the police car!” A man who had helped those involved in the accident shouted.

“It’s Prowl, the Autobot!” A girl with long brown hair cried, pointing to his Autobot symbol. “And he’s shaking!”

“His doors! They have been crushed!” A lady shouted.

“We need to move the cars off of him!” A man declared.

Quickly everyone who could pitched in to try and move one of the vehicles off of Prowl. Only to be rewarded with a cry of pain from the Autobot SIC.

“Stop you’re hurting him!” Someone stated the obvious.

They all backed away, watching the shaking police car with worry.

“S-s...some...one c-call… t-the Au-...Auto...bots.” Prowl shakily said. His was voice filled with pain and static, fading in and out.

A lady with blond hair nodded, and pulled out her phone to contact Autobot Base.

“Prowl’s WHAT!” Jazz’s cry echoed throughout the Ark startling many of its residents, including Wheeljack, and the engineer to drop his experiment.

The explosion wasn’t as bad as usual but enough to blow a hole in the wall and piss off Ratchet. “WHEELJACK!”

“Jazz you need to calm down,” Prime said as he placed a hand on the small bot’s shoulder, his field flaring, filled with worry and attempted calm. Ignoring the other bots in the background, including the angry medic. “You need to be calm so you can go with Ratchet, Ironhide, Grapple, Hoist and Skyfire to New York to get him.”

Jazz’s visor flashed but he nodded to Optimus, his plating resettling, as he was soothed by the calming pulses of the Prime’s EM field.

Optimus turned to Skyfire. “Skyfire, I need you to transport Ratchet, Jazz, Ironhide, Hoist and Grapple to New York. We need to get Prowl back to base as fast as possible. From the sounds of it Prowl is not in good shape and in need of a medic, ASAP.”

Skyfire’s optic’s flashed and a protective, sort of motherly look, passed over his face. “You got it Prime!”

The large Autobot transformed and shoved all the Autobots he would be transporting
inside.

“Hold on tight!” Skyfire exclaimed as his loading door closed and engine started to rumble, thrusters humming. “We’re going to be flying in high gear!”

The shuttle took off, the Autobots clinging to whatever they could to try and prevent themselves from sliding around.

The flight to New York City was quick, a true show of how fast the large shuttle could really fly. Skyfire swooped low over the city, startling many, as he searched for the correct intersection. It took the shuttle a little while, as he was still adjusting to Earth, but he did find it. He flew lower and hovered above the crash site.

“All citizens, please move away from the Autobot Prowl and clear a path for landing.” The shuttle’s soft, but authoritative, voice projected over the street from his speakers. “I repeat please move away from the Autobot Prowl and clear a path for landing so no one is hurt or any vehicle crushed.”

The humans were quick to clear a path and move away from Prowl, if fear of being squashed. Once the area was cleared Skyfire was quick to land and transform, booting his passengers out. The shuttle quickly rushed over to Prowl, his wings high and quivering. The large Autobot’s field flared, filled with worry and protectiveness, his hand gently resting on the shaking bonnet of the Datsun.

Jazz shot to his feet before zipping over to Prowl and Skyfire, easily slipping under Skyfire’s arm so he could gently stroke his lover’s bonnet.

Ratchet grumbled as he gathered his Medkit and walked over, Ironhide, Grapple and Hoist following. The medic quickly scanned Prowl and shook his head at the results.

“Prowl’s doorwings are crushed. The right one has the side view mirror of the other car rammed into it. There’s no way to get the vehicles away painlessly.” Ratchet sighed. “I’m regretting not having time to grab that sedative, it would have at least made it more comfortable for Prowl.”

Ratchet turned towards the other three Autobots. “Grapple, Hoist, Ironhide, be quick but careful when removing the vehicles.”

The three nodded, Hoist transforming, before advancing towards the vehicles. Skyfire gently stroked along Prowl’s roof, around the police lights, murmuring soothing words. Jazz continued to gently stroke Prowl’s bonnet, murmuring soothing words like Skyfire. Both mechs wrapped their EM fields around Prowl, filling them with comfort.

Grapple helped Hoist attach his tow hook to the back bumper of the car that had driven into Prowl’s left doorwing. Ironhide moved to push the other vehicle away from Prowl, as Grapple moved to push the vehicle Hoist would be towing.

Ratchet stood beside Skyfire. “On the count of three.”

“One,” Ratchet said, the other Autobots murmuring along. “Two… Three.”

On three Hoist drove forward, Grapple pushing the front of the vehicle. Ironhide pushed the other vehicle away, wincing at the sight of Prowl’s doorwings. Everyone cringed as Prowl cried out, his vocalizer glitching. The Autobots continued to move the cars, working as quickly as they could.

Skyfire’s wings flared, curling protectively over Prowl. He wrapped one arm around Jazz, and pulled the small bot in front of him. Jazz released an undignified squeak, his plating fluffing out. Jazz looked up at Skyfire with a puzzled expression, his hand still gently tracing Prowl’s bonnet. The shuttle’s face was scrunched up, his ice blue optics flashing with protective instincts as his coding threw a fit. Jazz looked back to his bonded, visor flashing. Prowl had lost control of his side of the bond, leaving Jazz to be flooded with the same pain.

Ratchet bit his lip as he watched the other Autobots move the cars. The pain in Prowl’s EM field was strong and horrible. That sedative would have been really helpful or even a pain patch.

The humans looked on, many biting their lips and looking worriedly at the police car. Some had covered their ears and looked away, unable to stand watching, or listening, to the Autobot’s pain.

Ironhide grunted as he replanted his feet and shoved at the car one last time, finally dislodging it from Prowl. The red warrior picked up the vehicle and moved it out of the way. Hoist and Grapple vents huffed as they dislodged the car they were removing, also moving it out of the way.

The Autobots sighed in relief before cringing at the sight of the mangled doorwings. Jazz’s vents hitched, causing Skyfire to use his other hand to gently stroke the small bot’s helm. Jazz startled and looked up at the shuttle.

“You’re such a Team Mum, Skyfire.” Jazz giggled slightly.

The shuttle flushed, and looked away but never stopped stroking, only making Jazz giggle more. The saboteur looked back down to shaking lover.

Ratchet crouched beside the Autobot SIC. “ Prowl, I need you to transform so I can treat the doorwings better, and make transport smoother.”

Everyone jumped as Skyfire launched to his feet and snarled. Jazz fell off the shuttle’s lap with a surprised squeak and landed on the ground with a thump.

“Prowl will not do such a thing,” the shuttle's wings quivered with anger. “If he transforms the doorwings will shift, without a pain patch it would hurt like pit. There’s a too high chance that they will get stuck mid transformation or possibly tear and damage more sensors.”

Ratchet sighed and nodded, easily giving into the shuttle to not anger him further. “Alright. Transform so we can get back to base before Prime blows a fuse from worrying. He’s such a worrywart and mumma-bear, worse than you Skyfire. “

The shuttle snorted but did as he was told, waiting for them to load Prowl. The police car was carefully pushed up the ramp and strapped in, Jazz by his side. Once everyone was on board and sitting down, Skyfire launched. The flight was smooth and slow so Prowl wasn’t thrown around.

It was a few hours later before Skyfire landed outside the Ark, where a clearly very worried Prime was waiting. The large bot’s optics lit up as Skyfire lowered his ramp. The Autobots exited, Jazz and Ironhide guiding Prowl with gentle touches. An obvious frown shadowed the Prime’s face as he followed them to the Medbay.

Ratchet was quick to place pain blocks to Prowl’s back, and the police car transformed. Ironhide picked up the SIC and laid him down on the Medical Berth. First Aid removed the pain blocks as Ratchet jabbed Prowl with a sedative. The tactician quickly fell into stasis, as the two medics worked on his doorwings.

Jazz held tightly onto one of Prowl’s servos, his free one stroking the police car’s chevron. Optimus placed a gentle hand on Jazz’s shoulder as he looked down at his SIC. Obviously worried about him.

“He will be fine.” Ratchet answered Optimus’s unsaid question. “His doorwings are repairable, without being replaced, but it will take a while. We will have to wait for his self repair to do its job on more delicate sensors. The only problem will be keeping Prowl off duty for a few weeks before he goes onto light duty. His balance will be precarious and his doorwings very sensitive.”

“Prowl will also have to learn how to not fall over with supports,” First Aid spoke up, his voice soft and quiet. “His doorwings will need bandages and supports for a few months while his self repair does it’s job. He will also need to come in weekly for check ups.”

Jazz nodded. “I’ll make sure he comes in, Aid, and that he’s off duty, Ratch.”

Optimus squeezed Jazz’s shoulder gently before releasing it. “I will take my leave and tell the rest of the base the news.”

With that Optimus exited the quiet Medbay.

It took Ratchet and First Aid five hours to repair and patch up Prowl’s doorwings. Jazz stayed by his bonded’s side the whole time. Ratchet ended up keeping Prowl in the Medbay for a month and after two days shooing Jazz out to do his work. The saboteur stayed with Prowl during the nights and would see him twice throughout the day.

It took Prowl an entire Earth year to have his supports removed, then another three months after that to be fully healed. It had been a worrying time for the entire base and stressful to release him into battle. Everyone was terribly relieved when he recovered.

Nobody knew what had happened to the driver of the car that had rammed into Prowl, but they knew he was at least duly charged.

Chapter Text

When the radio cut off, and silence descended over the shopping centre, Jazz was slightly startled. It quickly dawned on him of the day and time it was. The short man looked around at the shoppers, and his fellow Autobots - Ironhide, Prowl, Optimus and Ratchet. Everyone had their heads bowed, poppies and rosemary decorated some shirts.

The Autobots followed suit and also bowed their heads. Memories rushed through the minds of the five of them. A few tears ran down their cheeks, like many in the crowds.

The Autobots startled violently, jumping into ready positions, as a loud bang filled the building. Their faces darkened when they realised it was just a group of rowdy teenagers. The entire shopping center looked at the teenagers with dark expressions. The blatant disrespect offended many, including the Autobots. There was more than one military personnel in the shopping center, and more people related some way to a military personnel.

Once the music started to play again, Jazz made his move. Shoppers around him jumped as they watched the short man stalk towards the taller teenagers. The Autobots balked and watched him with wide worried eyes. Distraught from high emotions had left Jazz - and many other Autobots - volatile, and this had been the pushing point for him.

The tallest of the group squawked loudly when Jazz grabbed his wrist. He whirled around, forcing Jazz to let go, and glared down at shorter man.

“What do you want, shorty?” He sneered.

Jazz’s visor flashed darkly.

“And what’s with the weird glasses? Trying to be cool?” The teen reached out and tried to touch the glass covering Jazz’s eyes.

Jazz’s slapped the others away. “Don’t. Don’t ever touch my visor.” Jazz growled. “And I came t’ talk t’ ya.”

The teens laughed. “Talk? What could you possibly want to say to us, pipsqueak? How old are you? 10?”

By now Jazz had captured the attention of surrounding shoppers.

“This pipsqueak has been at war longer than your species has existed and since arriving here has saved it from total destruction at least three times. And I do not appreciate the blatant disrespect ya showed just moments ago.”

By now Prowl had walked over and had placed a hand on Jazz’s shoulder. His eyes were ice cold and locked with the punk teenager’s. He looked down at them silently with a dark disapproving glance and aura.

“You should be grateful. This may not be my home planet, but I sure am grateful. Men and women died because they wanted to provide their home with freedom. And they succeeded!”

“My kind tried to do the same and look where it got us. Our homeworld is dead and our numbers few. The least you could have done was be silent for only two minutes. Is that really too much to ask for!?”

“I'm grateful they fought for their country and prevented many more lives from being lost. They deserve to be honoured for their sacrifice.”

By the time Jazz had finished tears were rushing out from under his visor and down his cheeks. The surrounding shoppers and teenagers looked at him with shock. He spun around on the heel of his foot and walked away.

“I'm sorry.” The teenagers said meekly.

“Good,” Prowl said, voice cold. “You offended and upset many with your display. The banging of the door awoke our military protocols, and scared us senseless. There quite easily could have been an incident and someone could have been injured. Think about the choice you made today and never make it again. Next year provide the respect the soldiers deserve.”

And with that Prowl followed Jazz out of the shopping center. The rest of the Autobots trailed behind them while the shoppers and the teens stared after them. That memory would stay ingrained in their minds for years to come. And hopefully, next year the soldiers would receive the respect they deserved.