Beeps and Buzzes

🌒 ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 18

　　　
[ Three months later ]
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"you know what -"

You spoke aloud, stood behind Crosshairs.

He huffed, currently hunched forwards with his backplate facing you, servos steepled sitting over atop a crushed car.

"I finally understand why Ratchet was in a mood all the time"

Pressing harder, you finally managed to tease out the particularly large dent using a newly acquired magnetic grip. Popping back into place with an audible pop, Cross rotating his shoulders immediately after.

Sliding down off your perch, no longer under the spotlight provided by Bumblebees headlights as he stood in biped. Optics dutifly searching the immediate vicinity, servos on hips, acknowledging the transpiring events soon after your heavy soles thudded against the earthen ground.

Lights winking out, Bee warbled in gratitude fully knowing you had grown rather dispassionate over endlessly fixing his small team of Autobots.

Cross got nudged by his current leader, stubbornly mumbling an unenthusiastic "cheers, I guess" sulking off into the deepest recesses of this abandoned scrapyard (there were 'for sale' signs decorating its entrance) to do god knows what.

Pulling a face of displeasure, patience worn thin with Crosshairs attitude, gaze tossed upwards in distain. You've never had to coexist with somebody as temperamental as that Cybertronian, especially one as speciest as he.

"I swear, that Mech has something shoved up his ass"

Bee buzzed, shaking his helm "that's just how he is" taking a step forwards where he gazed skyward at the endless sea of stars "sometimes you've got to... Look past the bad... Find the good."

Pausing for a moment, gaze narrowing, attention aimed towards where Cross sulked off to "Trust me, I'm finding it hard to not... Punch him... Myself"

Starting to approach a sizeable fire caged in by oil drums with Drift and Hound for company. One sharpening an jumbo sized Katana with what could possibly be a Cybertronian whetstone, other entertaining himself via prodding at the fire with a metal rod.

Compared to Cross; these two you could happily work beside.

Neither had ever directly insulted you, over time coming to welcome you among their ranks doing their best to accommodate you. Taking you into towns to pick up food and other necessaries, in turn you patched them up to the best of your ability.

Drift had proven to be well versed on breathing techniques, quoting Haikus sourced directly from the Internet and pointing out how guns were inferior to the 'true majesty of the blade'.

Honest to a fault, talking without filter leading to occasional unintended consequences that usually resulted in verbal conflict. Aside from the negatives, honesty was a quality you appreciated.

Hound otherwise reminded you distinctly of a distant uncle who was heavily invested in Militaria. Rough around the edges, found talking about matters outside of warfare awkward but often eased into it if the subject was of particular interest.

He'd been the first fresh-faced Cybertronian to call you 'a fellow Autobot', when Bee wasn't nearby you could typically found in his company. Bonding over the stupidity of Decepticons in tandem with finding the other threes on-and-off bickering asanine.

Then there was, finally, Crosshairs. You did your level best to put up with him.

Between his squabbling among the others, taking unnecessary risks and saying things you found deeply infuriating. Typically going out of his way to deliberately avoid you, when made to speak often calling you degrading names until somebody put their pede down.