For a long time, too long — you tolerated their "jokes."

At first it was seemingly innocent: in the training halls, Jazz would make light jokes, like, "Come on, lady, show us what you can do."

Ironhide would chuckle loudly, adding: "Ha! If her armor can withstand even one shot from me, I'll eat my own gun module!"

Drift, always with a mocking, half-seeing look, would interject: "It's not emotions that make a warrior, but a blade.. but your blade still has a lot of growing to do."*

You were silent. You endured. You clenched your fists, turned your optics away, trying not to let them see how painfully these words stung.

Ratchet, even though he was a doctor, also sometimes allowed himself dry remarks: "Be more careful. A fragile structure like yours is not designed for a hard fight."

And the others laughed again.

Every time that laughter rose in the air - heavy, dull, male - Bumblebee remained silent, only lowering his head, as if he was embarrassed. Optimus.. always frowned. His body seemed to darken with displeasure, but he did not intervene abruptly. One look from him was enough for the laughter to die down, and everyone quickly changed the subject. But that was only until the next time.

And now, that day has come.

You all returned from another encounter with the Decepticons. The metal of the hull hummed with fatigue, the smell of hot oil hung in the air, sparks still crackled on Ironhide's armor. Jazz couldn't help himself: "Well, little one, it looks like your part of the fight was to hide behind Prime in time?"

Ironhide's laughter hit like a point-blank shot. Drift added: "Her blade is still cleaner than the enemy's - not from blood, but from inaction."

At that moment, something inside you snapped.

You stood up abruptly. The metal under your feet rang from the force of your footsteps. The optics flared - brighter than ever.

"ENOUGH!" — your voice pierced the air so that even the hum of the working generators died out in your ears.

Jazz froze, hand raised. Ironhide frowned. Drift jerked, as if for the first time he felt he had crossed the line.

You stepped forward, your fist clenched so tightly that the metal creaked.

"You think this is funny? That being the only woman among you means you are weaker? Fragile? Less worthy?"

Your words flew like punches. You yourself were shaking with anger, but you were no longer going to remain silent.

"I fight beside you! I risk my life, just like you! I have seen brothers fall, and I have risen again and again, when you could barely stand up!"

You stepped closer, right up to Ironhide, and jabbed a finger into his chest.

"You, Ironhide, laugh the loudest of all, but how many times have I been the one to shield you from fire?!"

He frowned, wanting to say something, but the words were stuck.

Turning to Jazz, you snapped, — "And your jokes, Jazz.. Next time, save them for the Decepticons. Maybe they'll appreciate it."

Drift met your gaze, cold and steely. — "And you, Drift... the next time you laugh at my blade, I'll prove that it can be much faster than yours."

The room was silent. Even the hum of the systems seemed muffled. And just then, Optimus's deep voice came from behind you.

He didn't speak loudly, but each word sounded like a hammer blow. "She's right."

His footsteps echoed dully on the floor. He stood next to you, his massive figure towering, but you felt that he was not above you, but with you.

"Each of you knows her strength. Seen her courage. Seen her sacrifices. And yet you allowed yourself to humiliate her, hiding behind laughter. This is unworthy of the Autobots." Optimus's gaze lingered on each of them. Jazz averted his optics. Ironhide gritted his teeth. Drift bowed his head. Ratchet slumped his shoulders.

"Remember." — Prime continued, his voice firmer, "strength is not measured by the size of one's frame or who laughs the loudest. Strength is measured by loyalty to a cause, courage, and a willingness to stand firm. And in that," he turned his head to you, "She is equal to each of us."