NOTORIOUS // TFP Arcee X Reader

Long story short: it was a mess

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
2ND POV
8 / 1 5 / 1 9
/ / /
"Fear is a thief because fear robs you before you even begin."
– Bryant McGill
/ / /

   You forgot to mention how your little one had teared up when she realized you were actually going.

   You were going to help the Autobots raid a Decepticon mine.

   You were going to partake in a mission where, if one wrong move was made, would end with certain death.

  Aami had cried and cried and pried at your armor, pleading for you to not go. It made you tear up as you left, because you were unable to comfort her. You didn't have the time to wipe away her tears and whisper all the assurances that you would back to her. You just kissed her a second time and promised to return before jetting off.

   You were angry at yourself, to say the least. You couldn't even dwell on it! You just had to make sure the Bots survived so you could survive.

   .::Space bridge control, do you read me?::. A familiar voice chimed in from the Nemesis. .::Space bridge control, your report is overdue.::.

   "Scrap," Bulkhead swore. He cleared his throat.

   "No! He'll recognize your voice!" Ratchet said, bracing an arm against the Wrecker.

   "I can make it lower. Higher?" Bulk tried.

   "He would recognize mine as well," the medic groaned. He looked to you.

   "The two of us 'ave already run into each other, so I think I'm in the same boat, babe," you told him apologetically. He groaned again. You looked back on Bee, who wouldn't work too well either.

   .::Space bridge control! Don't make me come down there and dent some engine blocks!::.

   .::Somebody say something, pronto!::. Fowler ordered.

   "You do it!" You replied. "Raf, patch in the agent, would ya?"

   .::You have one nano-cycle to respond or I'll-::. Fowler cut the Con off.

   .::This is Space bridge control, situation . . . normal.::.

   .::Normal? You sure about that?::.

   .::We were just calibrating the subsystems and had a-uh, surge. But it's fine now! . . . How are you?::.

   You broke out into snickers at that, earning confused looks from Bulk and Bee, and an optic roll from Ratchet.

   .::Uh, never better. Keep up the good work down there.::.

   You heard Fowler heave a sigh of relief. .::Thanks. Control out.::.

   You broke out into laughter.

   Jack ran into something called an Insecticon that Arcee had to defend him against. Your amusement had died down by then. The boy's mother urged him onwards, making you smile and wish you'd had a parent growing up that did the same. You hoped the two-wheeler defeated the beast, though something in your spark said otherwise (something you made sure to shove down).