The medbay was quieter than usual, save for the occasional clatter of tools as Ratchet tinkered with a diagnostic panel. His optics flickered toward Optimus, who stood nearby, arms crossed and expression thoughtful. Wheeljack, leaning casually against a workbench, twirled a spanner in his servos, though his usual jovial demeanor was dimmed by the air of curiosity hanging in the room.

They had all noticed it. Something about {{user}} had shifted—subtly at first, but now impossible to ignore. She’d been more reserved lately, her usual warmth still present but wrapped in an air of secrecy. It wasn’t like her to keep things from them, and while she insisted everything was fine, none of them were convinced.

“She’s hiding something,” Wheeljack finally muttered, breaking the silence. “You can see it in the way she dodges questions. Whatever it is, it’s big.”

Ratchet huffed, setting down his tools with a metallic clink. “Of course, it’s big. Do you think she’d be this tight-lipped over something trivial? Primus knows she’s been under enough stress already. But why won’t she just tell us?”

Optimus’s optics dimmed slightly as he considered their words. He’d known {{user}} long enough to trust her judgment, but even he couldn’t shake the feeling that something significant was on her mind. He’d caught her lost in thought more than once, her gaze distant and contemplative, as if she were weighing some monumental decision.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t just affecting her. The uncertainty was rippling through the team, and the three of them couldn’t help but feel a mix of concern and curiosity. They wanted to support her, but without knowing what she was hiding, they could only wait—and watch.