Author's Notes: My second Transformers Armada songfic but because FFNet doesn't allow lyrics I'm leaving them out. The song I used as inspiration 'Fragile' by Sting.

Fragile

Is this really all worth it? I can not help but hesistate the slightest as I see the battered frame of one of my soldiers, one of my friends.

I sigh, its mechanic echo haunting my mind. I glance to the side to see Alexis weep against Rad's shoulder. Even the strong boy's body shakes with sobs, though he refuses to let the tears fall. Carlos tries to furiously wipe his tears away, whereas Fred cries against teary Billy's chest.

They were so young, I could not keep that thought away. All organics would always be young in transformers' optics, but these humans were but mere children in their own specie's standards aswell.

Warriors have been lost in this war before, yet this time it seems to have broken through even my defences. Is it the human influence? They are very emotional beings, on a level that I do not think we could ever reach.

I suddenly realize that I have been nothing but standing silently ever since my anguished yell had quieted down. I once again look down at the form that can still be recognized as Smokescreen, even though it lacks the life my friend had.

Turning around, away from the others, I start to walk away. Perhaps there is still something Red Alert can do. I can not lose hope, not at a time like this. The others need me to stay strong. I am their leader.

It amazing really. With all the power we carry in our mechanical bodies, we are still vulrenable. We can be wounded just as much as an organic life form, we might even die.

Yet, still we are unable to mourn those we lose. Countless lives have been lost in the war between Autobots and Decepticons. If we tried to mourn and remember all of them there would not be enough strenght in us to do anything else.

Is this all worth it? Can I honestly say that none of the lives lost have been in vain? If we win then I can, everyone would agree. But if we lost would it still have been worth it? I do not think anyone would think so. That is why I refuse to acknowledge the possibility. If we lose hope we have already lost this war.

Can transformers cry? The human children have asked many questions about our abilities to express ourselves, our higher functions. None of them has ever brought up the topic of crying, though.

I have never cried, in the way humans know the term. I have never shed tears for anyone, dead or alive. Perhaps I am unable to. I once talked to Scavenger about it; Jetfire could not stay serious long enough for me to bring the question up. Scavenger said that we are as much able to cry as organics. I am not so sure.

"Optimus?" I look up at the sound of my name. I never expected anyone to follow me when I left Red Alert's work shop. With no place to hide I turn around to look at the one to invade my personal sanctuary.

My own golden optics lock with Hot Shot's bright blue ones. I would have expected him to stay by Smokescreen's side until someone dragged him away. But then again, I have never been completely capable of guessing Hot Shot's actions beforehand, no one has.

"Optimus..."

I would lift a curious eyebrow if I had any. The lost voice was uncommon of all of my soldiers, yet I do not see it as a weakness from Hot Shot. I never have been able to see Hot Shot as weak. He has been through a lot and still he continues onward, despite having to walk over the corpses of his old and current friends to do so.

Slowly I make my way to the shorter Autobot. There is a small shift as a head covered by a yellow helmet is landed on my chest plate. I stay still, unable to act. I am a warrior, as is the young transformer infront of me. I know little if nothing of offering compassion but Hot Shot knows this, probably better than anyone.

"I'm sorry", Hot Shot chokes out quietly. I lay my hands on his shoulders.

"It's not your fault", I reply soothingly. We have been through with this before. Hot Shot may be strong and he may have faced the loss of a comrade before but it still did not mean he could do it alone.

As I hold Hot Shot close, I realize just how precious the young soldier is to me. Whenever I feel weak and insecure he will be there, seeking the support of my presense. Whenever I am unable to walk onward he will hold my hand in order to do the same. In his own quest for strenght, he unknowingly gives some to me.

I think I now understand. Transdormers are able to cry. We may not sob uncontrollably or shed bitter tears but in out own way we also have ways to express our greatest sadness.

I am crying at this very moment. It might not be visible on the outside but I really am sharing my own sadness with my small protegé. Everytime we share our weakness like this we cry. This is how we cry.

The End