"Lend You An Audio"


Juana La Cliker-Rooster

Disclaimer: I do not own any faction of Transformers, nor am I affiliated with Hasbro in any way, shape or form. Not even dinosaur-form.

Never in her life had she felt so alone, so frightened, so cold. The harsh world she lived in loomed high over her, jeering, screaming, attacking her self-esteem, her heart, and her soul, if she even had one. She hadn't slept in two days. Her head hurt, her eyes hurt, and her body hurt. She wasn't happy anymore.

Happiness. She could barely remember how it felt to be happy, despite feeling it only a few days ago, before her father had gone missing. She'd been having fun with her Autobot friends, and had not a single care in the world. Now….

She felt as though she had no one. Bumblebee and Bulkhead, they were wonderful friends, and she loved them dearly, but they didn't understand how she felt. They had feelings, but evidently they were not as complex as her (hopefully) human feelings were. They tried so hard ot help, but they failed in that department. She wanted to be alone, she wanted to cry and scream and hit something, but nothing was coming out. No tears, no sobs, nothing. She was silent, she was still, and she was keeping everything bottled up inside.

"You know, Sari, it isn't healthy to keep those feelings locked up." She gasped at the sudden intrusion above her and looked up. She looked back down at her feet and rubbed her nose, then replied shakily,

"You know, Prowl, you should have knocked on the door if you wanted to come in." He smiled slightly and dropped down from the ceiling next to her. She turned her head so he wouldn't see her face wrought with grief, but he knew better.

"I saw Bulkhead and Bumblebee trying to cheer you up."

"It didn't work," she grumbled, "and I doubt you'll be able to do it, either."

"Probably not. You're upset, and you have every right to be."

"I mean, the whole world made my life look so awesome, and it was, and then, BOOM! My daddy is gone, he could be dead, I don't know if I exist or if I'm even a human, I lost daddy's company, and I was kicked out of my own home by some big, stupid smelly jerk! How can anyone make me feel better!?" She took a deep breath, had a sudden realization, then said,

"You're good that this."

"Thank you. Sari, I understand that this is a hard time for you, and I'm not going to offer you help in any way that wouldn't be beneficial for you. I'm here to listen, to lend you an audio. If you ever need someone to talk to, you know where to find me."

She sniffed and rubbed her nose again.

"Thank you, Prowl." He nodded and got to his feet to leave, expecting her to want to continue being alone, but she reached up and grabbed his hand.

"Wait! Don't go. I wanna talk." He smiled and sat back down. She watched him for a few moments, and he watched her. After ten minutes of silence, he said,

"Sari, I saw on a television program that when some humans are angry, or upset, they scream into those fluffy things they sleep on."

"My pillow? Why?"

"I think it helps release stress." Sari stared at him with the most curious, disbelieving look on her face. She wanted to try it, but the idea was almost embarrassing. So she grabbed her pillow and shoved it in his face.

"Only if you do it first." He hesitated, then said,

"Very well." He took the pillow, and put it to his mouth. It was small, so he couldn't bury his face in it, but he screamed into it nonetheless. Sari covered her ears—Autobots had really loud screams! When he was done, he handed the pillow back to her and said,

"You're turn." Convinced (and giggling just a bit), Sari grabbed her pillow, stuffed her face into it and shrieked the loudest she had ever shrieked in her life. Once, twice, three times she screamed, then brought the pillow away from her face and took several deep breaths.

"I feel sorta better."

"Good. Is there anything you wish to talk about?" Sari shook her head.

"Not right now. My thoughts feel really…jumbled, I guess. Is it okay if I scream again?"

"Of course. You do not need my permission, Sari. This is your room, you can do anything you like in here, as long as it's safe."

"What would I do that would be not safe?"

"Nothing. Go ahead, you can scream again if you really want to."

"You have to do it with me. Here—" She threw the pillow to him, "You can use that. I'll use my rabbit." She grabbed a worn, stuffed rabbit off her bed and held it inches from her face.


"Ready," he smiled.


The two of them screamed into their respective soft objects, and their voices carried over to the social room, where Bulkhead, Bumblebee, Optimus and Ratchet were watching television.

"What the frag?!" exclaimed the medic, jumping slightly from his seat. Optimus smiled and said,

"Don't worry, Ratchet. Prowl said he was going to help her feel better, and told me how. I think it's working."

"Is he killing her in there?" asked Bumblebee stupidly.

"She'll probably tell us all about it later, everyone," said Optimus, "let's just let them be."

The screaming contest continued on for an hour, and Sari felt better than ever. She ended the contest by stopping and throwing her rabbit on the bed again, and Prowl followed suit. After taking several deep breaths, she sighed and said in a scratchy voice,

"Thanks, Prowl. I needed that."

"Do you feel better?" he asked softly.

"Yeah. I'm tired." He nodded and said,

"Good. I noticed you hadn't slept since you got here. Get some rest, Sari. You need it." He got back to his feet and moved to leave when he felt her arms wrap around his foot.



"Can…can I have a hug? And maybe a bedtime story? About something happy?" He smiled sadly down at her, then reached down, lifted her up carefully and hugged her as best her could without killing her.

"Of course you can, Sari. You deserve it."

Awww! Geez. I've had this one in my head for like, a week or two. However long it's been that Sari hasn't had her own home anymore. After watching how Bulkhead and Bee failed at helping their friend, I decided that Prowl would know how to take care of her far better. So, here's my take, kids. He'd be a good father, I think. It's done, by the way. I won't continue it. I wanted to see if I could write a short story. And look, ma! I did it!


PS. Screaming into pillows really does work. FYI.