A little body was clambering over Optimus’ legs.

He stirred under the blankets, engines humming as his systems came online. When his optics opened, his vision was blurry with drowsiness. He blinked, and stared straight ahead, where he could just make out the form of his sleeping mate, face half covered with their shared blanket. Optimus rubbed his optics, before raising his helm off of his pillow to look down the berth. A pair of round, vibrant optics were watching him. He heard a soft sniffling sound.

First Aid.

“Come in,” he rumbled gently, pulling back the covers a little. The small figure climbed up the berth and slipped under the blanket, fitting in right between Optimus and his resting mate. When the little mechling pressed against Optimus’ chest, he felt the wetness of tears. “You’re alright, Sweetspark.” He murmured. “Did you have a nightmare?”

“Mmhmm.” The mechling sniffled. “Can I stay?”

“Of course.” Optimus pressed a kiss to the helm that was nestled in his chest, optics closing once again.