You are far from human. You're not a mutant, super-human, or anything that constitutes being extraordinary.
You're not even from Earth
No, you are not a cybertronian
Whatever you are, you're good at scrapping cons and getting into fights.
But Famil...
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Optimus didn't come back.
The base was more tense than usual. You kept your nose out of it.
They were all frantically searching for the answer as to why Optimus lost his memories, the deduction didn't take long. Damn the heroes, they always leave it up to everyone else to clean up after them.
Speaking of a huge mess.
Then there was the contingency plan. The key card that would jump start Optimus Primes memory, which just happened to be located on Cybertron. And it wasn't a mission just the bots could, Jack would have to be the one to embark on such a mission even though June was completely against the idea.
The bickering was tiresome, there was only one option as far as you could tell, there shouldn't even be a debate. Send Jack to Cybertron or there goes the leader of the autobots, you wondered how long it would be until tensions rose high enough.
"Are you going to comment on this?" June huffed at you, looking for someone to back her up. You had no idea why she asked you though, you had given zero indication that you were interested on the matter nor concern that Jack would be sent to a completely different planet to potentially die.
You sat up from your usual perch and stared down at them, "don't get me involved, I don't care what you do, just tell me what to do and who to claw," you yawned and stretched. It was the simplest thing to do, just go where told then you wouldn't have to get into the nitty gritty planning phase and could nap until there was something to fight.
"In the meantime, (y/n), I request that you locate the Decepticon shop," Ratchet asked.
With a complaining whine you laid back down on your beam, "come on Ratchet I just got out of a potentially life ending experience of almost getting squished, can't I nap a little longer," you complained. You just wanted a bit longer to sleep, your perch was more comfortable than usual and for once you would openly admit that you were tired.
Your energy wasn't endless.
Arcee shot you a stare, you knew that look all too well, it was that stare that could make you do what was asked, "not going to work this time," you grumbled as you rolled over to face away. Just half an hour more than you'd get rolling.
"Lazy furball," Bulkhead said under his breath.
"What's you say 2 tonnes of a waste of space," you scoffed, getting to your paws.
"You heard me," he glowered at you.
You had to admit, that condescending tone, that tone where just because he was a big bot and therefore larger than you gave him authority and judgement over you, it made your fur rise and your claws itch.
"Bulkhead," Arcee warned. Her tone was firm, a clear warning for Bulkhead to shut his mouth.
Like that stubborn bot ever learned to choose his words. "No Cee, that cat needs to know what's up," Bulkhead shook her off and glared at you, "you're the waste of space, there's only one bot here that can barely stand you, no one has wanted you here since day one. Now that the one bot that is the only reason why you're not a lab rat or dead needs help, you're too tired?!" His voice boomed. "You're a feral animal, a mad dog that should have been put down years ago, vermin that should have been eradicated years ago because the only thing you are capable of is murder."
