Dear Brother (TFP/RID & Reader)

Chapter 8

"Has father gone to the office?"

(Y/n) asks the quick question while making her presence known at the dining table. Elita takes a glance at the young lady clad in her formal outfit, smiling with a small nod.

"Yes, he said something comes up that needs his attention." Her mother answers as she makes her way towards the table where (Y/n) has seated herself, putting the breakfast plate in front of her. She thanks her before she starts eating.

"It's so him to be the first to arrive when something's wrong," (Y/n) murmurs with a tiny smile, "don't you think?"

Elita doesn't answer her instantly, her eyes are directed at the dishes she's washing and her slippery hands. "I do." She replies. "And the people who work for him respect him for that."

"Sometimes I envy him." (Y/n) continues then, fiddling with a piece of egg on her plate before eating it. "He always knows how to solve all kinds of problems—always knows what he's doing."

After washing the last plate and drying her clean hands, Elita walks over to the table and sits across her daughter, untying her apron.

"That's not true at all." Her mother shakes her head. "Nobody can be that perfect, not even Optimus—"

"I know," The younger one sighs lightly, "but he can always make problem solving look so easy to do. He's good at making things right."

"Am I wrong?"

"No, not at all." Elita throws a smile at (Y/n)'s direction, and she catches it instantly. "It is one of his good qualities. Logical but also stubborn at the same time."

(Y/n) laughs along with her mother, feeling that familiar warmth spreading in her chest. It reminds her of that warmth she had not felt in so many years, the one that haunts her sleepless nights. The aftermath of tears she shed last night doesn't go unnoticed, Elita reaches out to hold (Y/n)'s hand in hers gently.

"What's wrong?" She asks, concern latched to her voice. "Is it that dream again?"

The younger one in the room wants to deny it but she knows better than to lie to her mother. A short bout of silence follows until (Y/n) lets out a heavy sigh, putting down her fork on the plate.

"Yes." She answers. "His voice is getting clearer each day. He's always there just an arm's away from me, but I could never reach him—"

"I'm sorry, (Y/n)." Elita murmurs. "You must've been missing him so much. I wish I could help you take the pain away."

It's (Y/n)'s turn to grasp her mother's hand, shaking her head lightly. "I can't thank you enough for welcoming me to the family." She says. "I wished Smokescreen would've been here with us."

"We didn't find him when we went over to your foster home." The answer that Elita states makes (Y/n) furrows her eyebrows in a questioning manner. "We tried to ask your foster parent to adopt him as well, but he said that Smokescreen was adopted by someone else."

(Y/n) knew her brother; he wouldn't have left her alone.

"Since there's nothing we can do, we decided to adopt you. Your foster parent told us that he will try to get Smokescreen to give a call sometimes." The face Elita has on her face is one of concern and nostalgia. "The situation was quite awkward."

"Did he?" (Y/n) asks. "Did Smokescreen ever call?"

The head shake her mother gives speaks enough volume.

—

Something about the park they're strolling around makes (Y/n) feel normal. Normal as in the dream she's been having doesn't exist. Hands intertwining with each other, she feels the other person giving her hand a little squeeze.

"Is it still bothering you?" Jack asks with the familiar concern and curiosity in his face. "I remember you telling me about the dream about your brother."

(Y/n) nods. Six months have passed since Jack came into her life. More than half of the time was spent getting to know each other; during those times, she found it most comfortable to tell him what weighs her heart the most.

"I never really told you about him, didn't I?" (Y/n) asks, where Jack nods in response. "His name is Smokescreen. Used to call him Smokey. We only have each other after our parents passed away."

Vague memories of her childhood resurfaces, and they bring back the old aches in her heart.

"He took care of me and made sure I was fed—happy, even." (Y/n) smiles at the memory. "He was so bright and full of life, I don't think I'd survive if it wasn't for him."

(Y/n) can feel Jack letting go of her hand to sneak his arm around her shoulders. She appreciates the gesture.

"We ran away from our abusive uncle. A man offered us shelter, and so we lived in a foster house with other kids." She continues, leaning her head on his shoulder. "As an exchange for giving us a place to live, he made us work as street performers. We worked day and night to fulfill his pockets, or else we'd be punished."

Jack winces at that. "I'm so sorry."

(Y/n) shakes her head. "But I was happy. With my big brother by my side, I don't remember ever feeling miserable."

"I got into an accident one night and was hospitalized for weeks. I was in a coma, I think. A nice lady and her husband saved me; they brought me to the hospital and paid for the bills." (Y/n) says. "They are my parents. They adopted me, but my mother said they didn't find my brother with me because he got adopted by another family. I found it strange."

"Why?"

"We were always together." (Y/n) replies. "He was always by my side, there was no way he'd leave me alone. I think he would never let my parents adopt me if he got adopted by another."

(Y/n) doesn't realize the tears rolling down her cheeks when Jack stops them and reaches out his other hand to wipe them away. "I miss him so much, Jack. I want to find him and know how he is doing, but I don't know where to start." She murmurs. "And even if I do, I have to leave everything here behind: my family, my job, you."

That smile on his face never fails to make her feel lighter. Jack stands facing her now, both his hands grip her forearms gently as if trying to give her some sort of reassurance.

"Hey, you know you don't need to worry about me." He tells her without any hint of doubt in his voice. "I'm sure everyone will understand. Go and do what you need to do, no matter how long it takes."

"But–"

"(Y/n)." This time, his eyes are looking straight at hers, unwavering. "I want you to be happy. So are your parents, and your friends I'm sure, so if being happy means finding your brother, then go for it."

"I'll always be with you no matter where you are."

(Y/n) feels overwhelmed by his love while looking into those eyes she adores. She feels so lost, yet she had never felt so certain of something until now.

Pulling him into a tight hug, (Y/n) buries her face to his chest with a relieved smile. "Thank you, Jack. I love you so much."

"Yeah, I know. I love you too."