Drift had only really ever wanted to be a part of a greater cause. He wanted to be able to serve others. First, as Deadlock. Drift sorely regretted his time in the Decepticons, and wanted so hard to redeem himself. He tried again as an Autobot, going by Drift now. It had been going so well.

The shame he felt as he walked to the shuttle he was provided to leave the Lost Light was pervasive. He had taken sole responsibility for Overlord being on the Lost Light- for getting out, and fatally injuring several crew members. He knew in his spark it was the right thing to do, but it still hurt. Watching as Rodimus stripped him of his Autobot insignia. The hateful glares of former bots he might have considered friends. Once again, he would be alone.

Until you stepped forward, proclaiming you would leave with him. Drift was shocked, and a little furious, with you. Why were you throwing away your life here just to follow him into exile? He was too shocked to speak, as Rodimus argued that you should stay. But you ignored him. You were dead set on this. And so, you left with him.

Drift didn't have anything to say, so he didn't. He focused on calculating fuel and resources in the small shuttle, and planets nearby they could stop at to refuel. The shuttle had only been meant for him. You weren't supposed to be there. You weren't prepared, you didn't have anything to bring with you. And yet here you were.

You wanted to say something. You knew Drift was hurting inside, even if he didn't show it. He had never been one to display his emotions so easily. He pushed them to the back of his mind, insisting on meditating or training until the feelings went away. He was doing the same now, focusing on programming the shuttle, as compared to. Well. What even would be the alternative?

Finally, once the Lost Light was nearly a speck in the distance, Drift spoke.

"Why did you come with me?" He asked, turning to you. His tone was harsher than he had meant it to be. He just couldn't understand. Why? How could you be so- so reckless?