Transformers Prime belongs to Hasbro.

It was an unspoken agreement, but one each had upheld rigidly. They would not, could not, confront the growing feelings between the two of them until the war was over.

And then the war was over. And they were back on Cybertron. Home.

They were all silent as they left one home to rebuild another. Awed and marveled and just a bit overwhelmed, the others began to wander away from the site of the Spacebridge that brought them back to their rejuvenated planet.

There were structures to rebuild, long-forgotten knowledge to relearn, and something they had long since given up on: Hope.

Arcee made to follow them, only to be stopped by a large, gentle hand reaching out for her shoulder. She looked up at Optimus, confused, then comprehending. He knelt down before her as a wry smile slid across her features.

Optimus rested his helm against Arcee's and held her close as she returned the embrace by gripping his robust arms with everything she had.

If the others took notice- -if one or two of their family took notice of their absence and looked back in questioning- -they were polite enough to not say anything.

For now.