Dear Brother (TFP/RID & Reader)

Chapter 5

Smokescreen is pulled out of his dreams abruptly. His eyes opened blearily, heart racing in irregular rhythm as he forces himself to sit up. It is too early to wake up but he does it anyway. Peeking through from a small opening between the worn curtains, the sky is still a mix of blue and purple; the fading sight of the full moon tells him that the sun won't come for another hour. The lamps are still lighting up the area, too. Stealing a glance at the small bundle still sleeping soundly beside him, he pulls the blanket down just enough to see her face. (Y/n)'s peaceful sleeping face has always been a relief for him in its own way; it tells him that she is content, even when their condition is the complete opposite. He leaves a soft pat on her head with a small grin before going to wash up.

To his surprise, an unusual sight greets him when he walks out of the bathroom. A young girl, maybe a few years older than him, leans against the wall on the other side of the room. She walks towards him after they make eye contact, her steps are decisive and her short hair sways behind her as she does. Smokescreen doesn't see her often, being the oldest out of everyone requires her to go out more often and stay outside for longer hours.

"Be careful out there," her warning comes out of nowhere, surprising him, "the city is not a safe place."

He can't tell whether it is an actual or rhetorical one, not being able to figure out the look she is giving him at the time. Raising an eyebrow in a questioning manner, Smokescreen decides to keep it to himself and nod as his answer.

"Yeah, noted." He continues, turning away from her to grab his instrument. "Thanks, Arcee."

No other words are exchanged between them before the girl—Arcee—nods in acknowledgment and disappears behind the door.

The usual park where they set up their performance is hosting a festival. With the crowd gathering there, more pairs of eyes are caught by their presence there. Many people watch their performance, entertained by how adorable they look as they sing in harmonious sync. Their jar is filled all the way to the top by the time the performance ends, some of the bills even gather on the ground around it. A few hours later, right after the end of the festival, Smokescreen and (Y/n) count their earnings on a nearby bench. The excitement on (Y/n)'s face is clearly visible, her eyes lit up when Smokescreen counts loud enough just for the two of them to hear. When the count keeps rising up and up, surpassing their daily target, the youngest between the two cheers happily.

"We got lots of money!" She exclaims proudly, grinning happily at her older brother.

Smokescreen nods and returns the gesture with a pat on her head. "Yeah, we did it!"

The short arms wrapping themselves around his waist make him laugh. He ruffles (Y/n)'s hair playfully as she hugs him. A thought pops up in his head seeing his sister's joy; something that she will certainly find even more exciting.

"Say, why don't we work a bit more," (Y/n) tilts her head curiously at Smokescreen's sudden proposition, "then go to a restaurant and get something to eat?"

Her eyes instantly light up at the offer, the expression she has on her face alone is enough to tell him that she wants it. However, it melts away as soon as a frown forms on her lips.

"Won't Sir Starscream be mad at us if we do that?"

"He won't mind." Once again, he reassures his sister with a wide smile. "We got extras! Don't worry about anything, okay?"

It's the happy smile decorating (Y/n)'s face that makes everything worth it.

—

(Y/n) has been sitting on the bench kicking her feet back and forth for what feels like forever. Boredom hits her while she waits for her brother trying to approach a restaurant owner. It's late at night, most of the shops and restaurants are already closed. Earlier, they went a little overboard with getting more 'extra' that ended up with overtime. Albeit so, the city is not yet sleeping; there are some people still walking by her, countable with her ten fingers, and the ones that stumble into bars.