Transformers The Hatchling

Guests arriving

The Next Few Days

The days after Cliffjumper's death seemed to pass in a fog. Time felt as though it were dragging, but Storm remained in her grief-stricken state, her entire being consumed by it. She refused to leave the bridge room. No amount of coaxing or even stern words from the Autobots could pull her from the silent sorrow that had wrapped around her like an iron vice. She spent every waking moment by the ground bridge, her optics dull, her body curled up in a nest of blankets, barely moving. Even as Optimus and the team grew increasingly concerned for her, it felt as though nothing they did could break through the fog of her mourning.

Despite the growing worries, Storm remained defiant—she wouldn't eat, wouldn't engage, wouldn't even look at the energon Ratchet tried to offer her. Her mind, once so inquisitive and full of energy, had been silenced, weighed down by the loss of Cliffjumper and the grief she couldn't fully comprehend. Optimus had no choice but to order her back to her berth room, deep in the storage section of the base. It was the only way to keep her from further isolating herself in the bridge room, and perhaps, in time, she would come to terms with the pain that overwhelmed her.

Time Skip

Optimus POV

It had been a challenging few days for the Autobots. We had just returned from our perimeter checks, only to discover an alarming situation. Two young humans had spotted a Decepticon attack and, potentially, had become entangled in the conflict. The situation was more dire than we could have imagined. If the Decepticons knew that these humans were involved with us, their lives would be in grave danger. We could not allow that to happen.

I had Bumblebee and Arcee investigating the local school systems, searching for the boys' names and personal information. Tomorrow, we would retrieve them after school to explain the dangers they were now facing. Our priority was to ensure their safety.

But there was something weighing more heavily on my mind. Storm. Her grief was not only emotional it was becoming physical. She had not been eating, and her energy was fading. The bond she had shared with Cliffjumper had been strong, and now, without him, it seemed as though part of her spark was missing. It pained me to watch her slowly wither, and I knew that if this continued, she would eventually shut down. I couldn't allow that. She had already lost so much. If she continued on this path, the Autobots would lose another member this time, one who had the potential to become something more, something great.

I knocked softly before entering her berth room, the sound of my servos clanging faintly against the cold stone walls. There, Storm lay, curled up amongst the soft blankets she had gathered, recharging in an attempt to escape the pain. Her form had grown so much in the last few years, her limbs long and sleek, her once-silver scales now slowly turning into a shimmering, pale metallic blue. But her face, her optics those were the most telling sign of her current state. They had once been bright, filled with curiosity and warmth. Now, they were dull, hollow. She looked as though a part of her had died along with Cliffjumper.

I approached her slowly, placing a gentle servo on her head. She growled low, her body shifting in irritation, but I was patient.

"You're still not eating," I said softly. "Cliffjumper would not want this. If you don't take care of yourself, you will go offline, and there will be even more loss. We can't afford to lose you, too."

Storm turned toward me, grumbling in frustration. Her white optics, once vibrant and full of life, were now dim, clouded with the weight of her grief. But then, to my surprise, she leaned forward, her head coming to rest against my chest, and a low, mournful purr emitted from her throat. It was faint, barely audible, but it was there. A little spark of the Storm I once knew.

I smiled, relieved to see this small sign of her old self beginning to resurface.

The Next Day

Storm POV

The weight in my spark still felt unbearable. I woke up from an uneasy recharge to a sense of lingering emptiness that settled over me like a thick, oppressive fog. My limbs ached, my energy low. I hadn't wanted to wake up. The warmth of sleep was a respite from the aching truth that Cliffjumper wasn't coming back. But the reality of it still seeped into every corner of my thoughts.

I dragged myself out of bed with a low groan, my systems protesting in every step. Everything felt heavy. The walls felt even tighter than before. I didn't know how much longer I could stay cooped up in this place. I needed to move, to feel something other than this crushing grief.

I wobbled my way down the hall toward the ground bridge room, hoping maybe something would change. Maybe today something would shift, and I could break free of this place.

When I arrived, I saw that Bumblebee and Arcee were gone. Only Ratchet was there, fussing over some diagnostic readings. I grumbled in discomfort, my systems still weak. Ratchet glanced over at me, his usual stern expression softening slightly.

"Finally awake, huh?" Ratchet muttered, holding up a small energon crystal. "Eat. You need it."

I shook my head, the thought of energon not even registering in my processor. I was too tired, too empty. I just wanted to leave. I wanted to go topside, feel the wind against my wings. I needed something to break the monotony.

Without acknowledging Ratchet, I made my way to the ground bridge, my movements slow and sluggish. I was exhausted, my body protesting every step. But I just sat down in front of the swirling vortex of blue energy, waiting for something.. anything.. to happen.

"Stubborn piece of work," Ratchet muttered from behind me, clearly frustrated by my refusal to eat.

I growled low in my chest, curling up slightly as I lay on the ground in front of the bridge, my tail flicking in annoyance.

"Keep refusing, and I'll force-feed you like a sparkling," Ratchet threatened.

I ignored him, my mind elsewhere, my energy focused on the ground bridge. It felt like time was frozen here, and I was just waiting for something to change.

"Storm, Arcee and Bumblebee are heading out. Go back to your berth room. We have guests coming."

The words broke through my thoughts, and I groaned in annoyance. Guests? Who could possibly be important enough to disrupt my endless boredom?

I rolled my optics behind his back as he continued to monitor his screens, my impatience growing. "I saw that!" Ratchet snapped, his tone sharp.

I stuck my tongue out for good measure as I stomped back down the corridor. I didn't go to my berth room, though. Ratchet hadn't said I had to stay in it. I waited in the hall, listening intently for the sound of the entrance opening. Guests? Let's see how brave they are.

I sat, ears twitching, waiting for the arrival of whoever had been deemed important enough to see me now.