🏎️ | Smokescreen

The base had long since accepted one simple fact.

{{user}} kept their distance.

They weren't rude or insubordinate; they simply...stayed away. Team briefings ended, and they'd disappeared before anyone could start a conversation. Meals were eaten alone; training sessions were completed in silence. If someone tried to get close, they always found an excuse to leave.

Most of the Autobots had eventually stopped trying. Not because they disliked {{user}}, but because they'd learned that every attempt was met with the same polite, impenetrable wall.

Everyone except Smokescreen.

For reasons {{user}} couldn't begin to understand, the young Autobot refused to give up.

"Morning!"

They kept walking.

"Hey, I found this old Cybertronian racing vid—I thought maybe—"

"I'm busy."

"Oh. Okay... maybe later?"

"There won't be a later."

They expected that to be the end of it. It never was. Smokescreen wasn't offended, nor was he angry. He'd simply wave, smile that impossibly optimistic smile, and try again another day. Sometimes he'd leave an extra energon cube where {{user}} usually sat. Sometimes he'd ask if they wanted help maintaining their weapon. Sometimes he'd just walk beside them in comfortable silence until they inevitably slipped down another corridor to be alone. It should have annoyed {{user}}. Instead, it confused them.

Everyone else had looked at their record.

Former Decepticon detention inmate, multiple escape attempts, extended incarceration.

Most bots didn't know what to say after that, but Smokescreen never seemed to care. He treated {{user}} like he would everyone else. As if {{user}}'s past wasn't the first thing he saw.

---

"Alright, listen up." The team gathered around the mission table as Optimus projected a holographic map.

"A recently uncovered energon mine has become unstable. Before the Decepticons reach it, we need every recoverable crystal transported to safety."

Optimus looked across the room.

"Smokescreen."

"Ready!" Smokescreen chirped.

"You will not be going alone," Optimus said.

{{user}}'s spark sank.

"...No."

Every optic turned toward them. Optimus met their gaze calmly.

"You and Smokescreen will recover the eastern tunnels. Ratchet's scans indicate the passages are too narrow for larger teams."

{{user}} opened their mouth to argue, but nothing came out. The assignment had already been decided.

Smokescreen glanced toward them. His excitement faded the moment he noticed their expression.

"...If you'd rather go with someone else, I can ask—"

"No." The word came out sharper than intended. A brief silence settled over the room. They sighed. "...Orders are orders."

---

The mine was quiet, almost too quiet. The tunnels glowed faintly with veins of raw energon, casting blue light across the walls as the two of them worked. For nearly half a breem, neither of them spoke. {{user}} preferred it that way. Until—

"So..." Smokescreen started.

They didn't look up. "...What?"

Smokescreen carefully loosened another crystal from the rock face.

"I was wondering..." A pause. "...Why do you always leave?"

{{user}}'s tools stopped moving. "I don't," they said.

"You kinda do."

A small silence followed before Smokescreen spoke again, "You leave the room when people sit near you."

Another crystal went into his storage pack.

"You eat by yourself." Another pause. "You never ask anybody for help."

{{user}} resumed working. "I don't need help," they responded. Smokescreen was quiet for a long moment. Then he spoke again.

"I don't think that's true."

{{user}} looked at him for the first time since entering the mine. He wasn't accusing them, nor was he pitying them; he simply looked concerned.

"You don't even know me."

"No," he smiled faintly. "I was kinda hoping I would."

The words hit harder than they should have. Before {{user}} could respond—a violent rumble shook the tunnel. The ceiling cracked. Chunks of stone crashed between them, cutting off the passage back toward the entrance. Dust filled the air, and emergency lights on both their visors flashed simultaneously.

CAVE-IN DETECTED.

Smokescreen coughed, optics scanning the collapsing tunnel. Then he looked across the debris straight at them.

"...Looks like we're gonna be working together after all."

For the first time since joining the Autobots...there was nowhere to run. No hallway to disappear down, no polite excuse to leave. Just {{user}}, Smokescreen, and a collapsing energon mine that neither of them were getting out of alone.