Transformers || Oneshots

Lost connections~ ROTF Hightower x Femme reader

This is for GoldDriveFanNumber1

Notes:
• This one is going to be a shorter shot, I'm sorry in advance! I just get squeamish with suicidal prompts, as I'm sensitive with the topic for personal family issues.
• With that being said, if you're sensitive to this material turn away. I of course will not write this extremely detailed since I don't like that myself, but yeah.
• Also like, Hightower is a constructicon. He's massive, and a crane. I don't even remember if he spoke or not, heh. Not my favorite thing, but I will try my best to give you a good story :)
• Forgive me if this is out of context
• X reader details: Requester asked for the reader to be soft spoken, but aggressive. This shall be funnn

Hope you enjoy!

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Lost connections
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The sandy terrain lightly dusted the fallen bots that lay in their shallow graves. The wind picked up and kicked down as the Egyptian sun sizzled down on the end result of the finished battle that took place there three days prior.

The military didn't know what to do with the metallic corpses, but the Autobots insisted on taking their fallen heroes back to their base, leaving the Decepticons to rot until the day came where the Military knew how to properly move the bodies for safety purposes.

Megatron and Starscream retreated, leaving the rest of the unfortunate bots to deal with golden sand blown into their gears, not that they could do anything anyways.

A small fighter jet circled the dessert, making the sand ripple and spread, throwing it everywhere it could. After hovering for a good minute or so the jet transformed swiftly in the middle of it all, getting back up and dusting herself off as her wings folded behind her.

She missed it, great. The femme was a neutral in the war, but she'd much rather be with her own kind instead of flying from place to place in search for Cybertronian life. It's been a millennia since she seen a living Cybertronian, but hope brought her back with the activity beacon she only just now got. But disappointment and the foreign feeling of grief brushed her faceplates when she once again met silence on all parts.

Spilt energon and a lifetime of fighting. That's all she seen as her gaze went to each battle wound; to each story behind the deadly marks.

All the optics lay cold and dark in their pits as the femme shuddered, pacing circles and scanning levels just in case. But it didn't matter, these bots were dead for sure, and something big must've took them out.

A part of her was relieved, even if that sounds bad. They're Decepticons after all, they're way more hostile than a Autobot could ever be. But nevertheless she let defeat wash over her once again, pulling out her small log, marking what she found. Her optics scanned the previous loggings, which was always the same result:

Decepticons, maybe four or five of them. All offline, of course. Keep searching.

She sighed, tucking her datapad back into place as she scanned the horizon, the hot sun having only about an hour or so until the moon took over for the night.

Her stare couldn't help it's way back to the deceased bots laying next to her, almost awaiting a jumpscare she knew wouldn't come. She studied the bodies, putting the pieces together better once she understood what most likely happened to the bots, or should she say bot.

They were all part of a Constructicon, a branch of her kind that combined to form a bigger version of themselves, seeing where the bots would normally connect.

She turned, bookmarking which bots made which parts. I mean, she had nothing else to do better to do. Being cautious of the broken Giza next to her, the femme carefully stepped over the dry slabs of the pyramid and marked the bots, noting the body and helm, the two stabilizers of bots whom were frozen in transformation, and one of the arms. Only one.