A/N: This was a 100 word drabble challenge from the twinsxratch comm on LJ.

Hands that had brought mechs from the grasp of the Unmaker, and had loosed them gently to Primus' Light, hands that could make him strutless with a touch now lay so still.

Proud optics capable of humbling Prime and bringing Grimlock to his knees stayed dim.

Those lips, always set in that perfect petulant pout when glaring at them, or flowing with the tide of curses that told them everything would be alright now stayed painfully mute.

Sunstreaker, faltering and hesitant, prayed.

"Ugh, anyone know what hit me?"

Sunstreaker smiled as Ratchet, still damaged, slowly came online. "Slagging glitched medic."