The silence of the room was unbearable, heavy and pressing. Sideswipe sat in the chair, his optics locked onto the plush lamb you held in your hands. Lamby had been his constant comfort, his safe place when everything felt too big or too overwhelming.

“I know you hate studying,” you said softly, trying to keep your voice steady. “And I know you’ll do everything you can to avoid it. But I can’t let that happen anymore. I’m sorry, buddy… I have to do this.”

When you reached for the plush, his optics widened, his vents hitching sharply. He grabbed the edge of the chair, his small frame trembling. “No!” he choked out, his voice breaking. “Please, don’t take Lamby! I—I’ll study! I promise, I’ll try! Just don’t take him!”

Your hands paused for a moment, the sheer desperation in his voice making your spark ache. But you knew this was the only way to get him to focus. “You’ll get Lamby back after you finish,” you said gently, placing the plush on the highest shelf, out of reach. “I’m not mad at you, and this isn’t a punishment. I just need you to try.”

As you turned and quietly left the room, the soft click of the door felt like a final blow. The moment the sound echoed through the quiet space, Sideswipe broke.

He slid off the chair, his frame collapsing onto the floor as a choked sob tore from his throat. Hugging his knees to his chest, he buried his face in his arms, the first of many tears spilling down his cheeks.

“Why?” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Why do I always mess everything up? I didn’t mean to…”

His sobs grew louder, his vents stuttering with each cry. The textbooks on the desk loomed like a punishment, mocking him with their presence. He didn’t even look at them, the weight of the accident and his grounding crushing him.

Without Lamby, the loneliness was overwhelming. The room felt too cold, too empty, and every second dragged endlessly. His small frame shook violently, tears soaking into his arms as he repeated the same broken words.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…”