The tall doors swished open, but no-one entered.
"Hello?" Sparkplug called, moving closer to the alarm switch on the wall.
A basketball rolled silently into the room, and the doors swished shut.
"Huh," Sparkplug picked up the ball, and dribbled it a few times. Then he smiled.
--
"What's with the rain on this planet?" Gears grumbled, "-Oil-liftin', CPU-seepin', dripping GRAY as far as the optic can detect..."
Huffer nodded, and watched a silver-white tongue of lightning crackle deep in the clouds beyond the entrance to Autobot headquarters.
"It'll let up soon... I hope," said Bumblebee.
"One thing about rain, little buddy- -it rolls right off," Hound promised, transforming into his mud-loving army Jeep form.
Optimus flicked his windshield wipers back and forth philosophically, then joined Hound in vehicle mode.
"At least it's not acid rain. Transform and roll out for Portland!"
--
Riding silently in Optimus's trailer, Roller watched his combine-partner's optic data, and listened to the rain on the echoing metal above him.
He didn't mind the rain, but it WAS gray... just like him
--
"Are you in there, kid?" Sparkplug asked, at the door of Optimus's trailer.
Roller paused. He'd been playing wall-ball, and the bouncy orange sphere glanced off his front fender before rolling to a stop. The One was in another room talking to Prowl, yet Sparkplug was talking as if he was here. -Had he been playing too loud?
"Roller?" Sparkplug asked, clearly.
Roller almost ground his gears in surprise, then backed into the darkest corner he could find.
What did the Human want?
"...Hmm. Okay, then. I'll come back another time if you're busy," Sparkplug said, and began to walk away.
Roller advanced, then paused at the head of the ramp with a soft, curious whistle.
Sparkplug stopped, and came back.
Roller beeped at him a few times, still puzzled.
"I came to see you," Sparkplug told him.
Roller reversed a little, then crept forwards pushing the basketball, and tipped it down the ramp. Sparkplug caught it with his foot like a soccer ball, and picked it up.
"You wanna play?" the Human asked.
Roller spun his strobe cautiously, undecided. He scanned the rest of the room. There was no one else around...
Roller drove down the ramp and turned sharply, stopping in front of the Human.
He revved his engine.
Sparkplug laughed.
"Are we playing catch here, or do you want me to throw it for you?"
Roller reversed about forty feet and waited, strobe twirling in anticipation.
Sparkplug pitched the too-large ball underhand- -baseball was more his game- -and Roller bumped it back, beeping excitedly.
He knew this game! The One liked playing it too...
--
"What happened to you?" Ratchet stared, as his favorite Human walked into the medical bay looking seven point eight degrees hotter than normal.
"Youth and exuberance," Sparkplug grinned, wiping his sweaty face with the brown shirt he'd just taken off.
"Are you in any danger of overheating?" Ratchet asked.
"No, but I could sure use some water," the man admitted, taking a gallon jug from a cabinet down near floor level and breaking the seal.
"Spike, Bumblebee, or both?" Ratchet guessed, amused.
"Neither," Sparkplug said when he finished drinking, "-Roller. You know that little bot can-"
"ROLLER?" Ratchet repeated, coming over and crouching down beside his friend.
"...Yeah," Sparkplug studied Ratchet's amazed face at close range, "...is there something I should about know here?"
"Roller-!" the medic broke off, and continued in a slightly calmer voice, "-Roller never interacts with anyone except for Prime unless he's -ordered- to. Sometimes not even then."
"Really?"
Ratchet nodded.
Sparkplug soaked his shirt with water from the jug, and draped the cool fabric across the back of his neck.
"What's his deal, anyway? Is he afraid to transform or something?"
Ratchet sighed, and stood up.
"I only wish I knew, Sparkplug. The few times I've been able to examine him, Roller has always been badly damaged. Otherwise, Prime's self-repair systems take care of him."
"What IS Roller? I mean, from what you've showed me, that system's PART of Optimus. How can he use it to heal other Autobots?"
"Because Roller's a part of him too. They're combine-partners."
"Like the Constructicons?" Sparkplug asked.
"Almost. The Constructicons combine their minds as well as their bodies. Optimus Prime can -feel- Roller and his trailer when they're combined, but he can't hear what Roller's thinking," Ratchet explained.
"Does the trailer think too?"
"No. That's more like a-" Ratchet strugged explain this in Human language, "-a limb Prime can take off and on."
"There's a lot more to that truck than I thought," Sparkplug said, shaking his head.
"You have no idea," Ratchet smiled, "-but tell me, what game were you playing with Roller? Did he talk at all or-"
--
"Hello there," Optimus greeted Roller over their secure intercom channel.
Roller beeped back happily.
"Did you have a good time with Sparkplug?"
Roller was silent for a long moment. Finally he whistled a cautious affirmative.
...Was he supposed to have been be playing with alien life forms?
"That's good," Optimus said, cutting across Roller's anxious thoughts, -"I feel better knowing you have someone to talk to when I can't be there."
Roller bleeped indignantly, and pressed his bumper firmly against the trailer's inside front wall.
"I agree, little one," Optimus rumbled, "-there's no one quite like you either."
Roller relaxed after a minute or two, and did a series of happy forward-and-back zigzags.
"Hey, that tickles..."
--
Optimus came upon Roller parked beside the double row of stacked wooden crates that divided the 'Human area' from the rest of Autobot headquarters. Sparkplug stood nearby, and Bumblebee had parked a few yards away in vehicle mode. Spike was leaning casually against Bumblebee's hood, and telling the two Autobots a story about the first time he'd gone 'fishing', whatever that was.
Roller noticed Optimus standing there, and bleeped in surprise.
Spike was still talking.
Roller drove over to Optimus, and stopped at the big mech's feet. He focused his optic sensors upwards with an inquiring whistle.
Spike trailed off, watching.
"It's all right, Roller," Optimus said, bending down to pat the tiny scout vehicle, "I just wanted to know where you were."
Roller replied with a series of informative beeps and whistles.
"He's been with us the whole time," Bumblebee volunteered, "-we've been taking really good care of him, honest."
Optimus sighed, and smiled beneath his face mask.
"Carry on."
Walking away down the branching main corridor, Optimus wanted to look back, but he didn't. He made his way to the command center instead, and sat low in his chair watching the satellite-view on Teletran One's screen until he felt Wheeljack's hand on his shoulder.
He hadn't even heard the other mech come in.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" the inventor asked.
"...No. -Thank you, Wheeljack," Prime's voice was strong, steady. Wheeljack almost believed him.
"-Then listen up, Optimus. Just when you think you finally got rid of 'em, they'll need you again. I speak from Dinobot experience."
"THANK you, Wheeljack."
"Hey, no problem..."
--
"I told you guys he couldn't transform. Lay off," said Bumblebee.
"But it's not fair," Sideswipe protested, "If he can't transform, why does Tweety-bird here get to skip all his maintenance checks?"
Roller began a long series of noncommittal beeps and warbles.
"Yeah, I'm talking to you! How do you DO it?"
Roller replied with a mournful whistle.
"What does that mean?" Sunstreaker asked Bumblebee, hands on hip-casing.
"He just never lets Ratchet catch him," Bumblebee shrugged.
"You mean he's scared of mechanics?" Sideswipe translated, effortlessly.
"Not all mechanics, just Ratchet," Spike explained, "-and nobody but him knows WHY, 'cause Ratchet's always been nice to him..."
Very stealthily, Roller began to back out of the too-confining circle. -If he hadn't bumped into Bluestreak on his way in, Roller might have made it.
The gray and red sharpshooter made no move, but he didn't get out of Roller's way, either.
"Get a load of this, Blue-" Sideswipe grinned, "-Tweetybird here's afraid of our sweet 'ol mechanic."
Roller turned his wheels to pivot in Sideswipe's direction, and bleeped indignantly.
"You are?" Bluestreak blinked, "-that's okay, but I mean, what are you afraid of? You don't really believe anything that comes out of Sideswipe's faceplate, do you?"
"HEY!"
"Seriously, 'Sides. Did you scare him on purpose?" Bluestreak asked, frowning at the red Lamborghini.
"ME? I swear, I had NOTHING to do with this. I -am- trying to tease him into taking his maintenance like the rest of us though, and if you'd like to help...?"
"Maybe he's just not used to being touched," Bumblebee cut in, "-that's not a crime, you know."
"No," agreed Bluestreak, "-but it is fixable."
"What do you mean?" Bumblebee asked, hopefully.
"Practice." Bluestreak put his hand on Roller's hood. Roller beeped twice, very quietly.
"-Not so bad, huh?" Bluestreak smiled.
Hesitation. Slow, pensive strobe twirling. Finally, Roller pressed against the other gray mech's hand a little, and said nothing.
Encouraged, Bumblebee reached down and ran his fingers over one of Roller's hubcaps. Roller emitted a high-pitched beep of surprise, and -squirmed-. Bumblebee instantly withdrew his hand. He exchanged a worried glance with Spike, who shrugged.
Looking thoughtful, Bluestreak reached down and tried the same thing.
Roller made a series of short, oddly-pitched peeps, and drove quickly forwards out of reach.
"Is he -laughing-?" Bluestreak asked Bumblebee, bemused.
"I- I don't know. He's never made that noise before."
"How 'bout it, Tweety? Is that your laugh?" Sideswipe asked.
Roller beeped an affirmative.
"He's -ticklish-," Sunstreaker snapped his fingers with a metallic clink.
"Of COURSE-" Sideswipe grinned.
"Guys?" Bumblebee pleaded, without much hope.
"Roller...?" murmured Bluestreak.
Roller whistled back inquisitively.
"-DRIVE."
--
-tbc-