Work Text:
Cybertron was back, alive. The inner glow of the once dead core illuminated the land above, bringing a long lost beauty back to the world. Even through all the abandoned and destroyed cities, there was always a faint glimmer of life below, and if one were lucky enough, there was even the occasional life above. The lights that had erupted from the allspark littered the ground, the next generation of Cybertronians resting upon the planet’s surface.
But it was just the incubating sparks bringing life back to the planet, many Cybertronian ships were beginning to make their way to their home. Autobot and Decepticon alike were returning, news of the planet’s restoration spreading throughout space. There was still the occasional fight between factions, bots who couldn’t agree on one thing or another, but even with all the fuss, everybody was just happy to be home.
Yes, Cybertron was thriving again. Life was returning from both near and far, more and more homes being built every day, repopulating the planet and returning it to its former glory as the home of Cybertronians.
For one Autobot however, something still felt wrong. Even with all that had happened, she couldn’t find it in her to be happy about everything that had happened.
Cybertron didn’t feel like home anymore.
The feeling would often nag at her in the back of her mind, but she could often ignore it, just enjoying the peace. Things had been different tonight however, a ship of refugees had come in, and upon greeting and welcoming them, something struck her as wrong. They’d been too happy, not just for returning home, but for something she couldn’t quite place. That is, until one of them spoke, and she had taken her leave immediately, opting to stay outside for the remainder of the meeting. She’d heard enough.
Though these bots had seen the starting point of Cybertron’s fall, they’d never taken part in the war. They’d never killed, never fought for their life, and most importantly, they’d never lost anyone they cared about. It was a rare blessing for a Cybertronian not to experience these things, and these bots had never dealt with such pain. Really, any bot would be happy for them. They should be happy for them.
So why was she so angry at them?
“Arcee?”
A familiar voice broke her out of her brooding, and she glanced behind her to see a familiar friend, a look of worry upon his face.
“I’m not in the mood, Bulk,” She muttered, wrapping her arms around her knees and leaning into them, “Go back inside, I’ll get back when I’m ready.”
Bulkhead nodded, more to himself than Arcee as he said, “Well, the refuges just left. Ultra Magnus is escorting them to some of the new homes.”
“Good for them.”
“You feeling alright Arcee?”
“I’m fine,” She assured, “Just a bit annoyed.”
Bulkhead nodded again, turning away from Arcee and making his way back inside. Arcee sighed as she heard him shut the door, staring into the sky above to calm herself. Everything was brightly lit, between Cybertron’s glow and the moons above, but not even the peace of the night was enough to calm her. She was still upset, and she didn’t think the bad feelings would be going away any time soon.
The sound of the door behind her opening again, and she realized that wouldn’t be the only thing sticking around for a while.
Letting out a grunt of annoyance, Arcee punched the ground as she turned back and yelled, “Slag it, Bulk! I said I’ll be back when I’m ready!”
Except it wasn’t Bulkhead she yelled at. Or, not just him, anyway. A very familiar group of bots was staring down at her in an array of emotions, ranging from surprise to slight worry. Seemed that Bulkhead went through the trouble to bring the whole team out, and she wasn’t particularly happy about it.
“I think that might take a bit longer than we’d like,” Bumblebee said.
“But perhaps not as long as you’d like, if you decide the ground deserves another beating,” Ratchet scolded.
Taking a glance at her scuffed knuckles, Arcee defensively replied, “It’s really not as bad as you make it out to be.”
Ratchet crossed his arms with the roll of his eyes, but to Arcee’s surprise, he didn’t argue back. Instead, he seemed to motion to Bumblebee, who nodded in understanding before making his way to Arcee to sit beside her. She didn’t move.
“You know we can tell when you’re upset, right?” He asked, “We all knew something was off when you stormed out like that, and we just want to know for sure you’re okay.”
Arcee groaned, shifting away from Bumblebee and muttering, “Ugh, I’m fine, okay? I already told Bulk I was just a bit irritated, it’ll fade soon.”
“Except it obviously hasn’t, because this is the third time this week you’ve left during a greeting with returning refugees.”
Arcee tried to think of an argument to that, but none came. It was true she hadn’t been in the best of moods lately, and though she’d tried her best to hide it, apparently it was still overly obvious to everyone. So instead of arguing back, she just stayed silent, curling her arms tighter around her legs and looking away from her friends.
They still weren’t having it.
“Holding in all that bitterness isn’t good, y’know,” Bulkhead said.
Ratchet nodded, ‘All you’re doing is causing more stress down the line, both physically and emotionally.”
“And how exactly would you expect me to let it all out?” Arcee asked.
Bulkhead and Ratchet looked to each to whisper something, Bumblebee looked away for a moment, thinking. Luckily, or perhaps, unluckily, the two more eccentric bots of the group had some quick suggestions for her.
“A nice drive is always good for calming down, I’d think,” Smokescreen suggested.
Wheeljack laughed, “What, and stare at all the scrap around? Nah, I think a good way to go about this would be to take out a few of those old ‘Con hangouts. I’ve got dozens of grenades that never got to blow, I could lend you a couple if you want.”
“It’s not boring if you’re going as fast as you possibly can!”
“Or better yet,” Bumblebee started, interrupting the two before they got some terrible idea to combine the two suggestions, “We could just talk.”
“Talk?” Arcee questioned, “Talk about what? My petty problems? How everybody else seems like they have it better? It’s nothing for you to be concerned about, and nothing I want to involve you in.”
“It is absolutely something for us to be concerned about,” Bumblebee replied sternly, “You’re our friend, and believe it or not, we care. Seeing you so upset makes us upset, and we want to find a way to help. And yes, this even includes Magnus, and believe it or not, Knock Out.”
“Oh yeah, then why aren’t they here to pity me too?”
“Like I said, Magnus is escorting the returning bots to their new homes,” Bulkhead reminded, “As for Knock Out, I think he’s still stuck in that Decepticon mindset that feelings are bad or something, but I’m sure he’ll soften up eventually.”
“But enough about him,” Ratchet interrupted, still the slightest bit annoyed with the egotistical medic being among their group. He walked up to Arcee and leaned down next to her to continue, “This is about you. Holding back like this may end up hurting more than just you, and I’m not saying that as your doctor, I’m saying that as your friend.”
Arcee wanted to argue, to tell them that her issues were her own, and not theirs. Her feelings were ridiculous and petty, but the more anger she felt about the situation, the more anger she felt for herself. She should be happy for others, that lost Cybertronians can now return to their home. The fact they could find comfort with their friends and families, in a world free of suffering.
Suffering that a few of them had somehow never felt at all.
“It’s just not fair,” She muttered.
Bumblebee cocked his head in confusion, “What’s not fair?”
Arcee growled, balling her hands into fists and punching the ground again as she yelled, “It’s not fair that they’re so happy!”
Ratchet and Bumblebee leapt back at her yelling, but stayed quiet as Arcee realized what she’d said.
“Wait, no. I mean-” She stumbled over her words, unsure how to go about her feelings, “It’s just that, I’ve all lost so many people I’ve cared about. We all have, Tailgate, Cliffjumper, even Optimus. But these bots, they’ve never lost anybody, all they know is what Cybertron was. It just isn’t fair.”
Bumblebee tried to step forward again, “Arcee, I-”
“I know!” Arcee interupted, placing her face in her hands, “It’s stupid, and I’m terrible for thinking it, I’m sorry.”
“Actually, I was gonna say it’s okay to feel that way.”
“Huh?” Arcee removed her face from her hands, looking to Bumblebee in confusion, “How?”
“Do you think we’re not envious of bots every now and then?” He asked, “It’s an awful feeling, but we’re not immune to it. I mean, I was a bit angry when one of the returned Decepticons trash talked Optimus a few days ago. Though I admit that wasn’t something too major, and a nice drive calmed me down.”
Smokescreen laughed, “See, I told you it works!”
“I still say my way is better though,” Wheeljack claimed, “Maybe if you want to, we can still do that later…”
The younger bot seemed excited at the idea, but was silenced as Bulkhead set a hand on his shoulder, saying, “It’s rough, but we’ve got our ways of cooling off, so to speak.”
“Even if some ways are a bit questionable at best,” Ratchet muttered.
Bumblebee smiled at his team, a mix of amusement and relief on his face as he turned back to Arcee and said, “I know things seem rough still, even if things feel like they should be getting better. I think that’s just how life is sometimes, trying so hard to bring you down, but you have to keep fighting to stay up.”
Arcee was quiet, not quite looking to Bumblebee, or any other team mate. She wasn’t quite sure what to say, or even if she wanted the advice at all, but as her teammates slowly started to join her side one by one, she couldn’t help but feel relieved.
“I know I said we could just talk,” Bumblebee said, folding his door wings as Wheeljack plopped down behind him, “But you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. We could just hang out if you want. Just know that we’re here if you need anything.”
“Thank you,” Arcee smiled, “I’ll keep that in mind.”