The thrumming of his spark is strong, bright, alive. Alive is all that matters. Alive means that he's not dead, not yet, alive means that he's still able to fight, to do science, to think and feel and work towards the good of the Cybertronian race until his last in-vent.

Perceptor in-vents, as if remembering that he needs to do that to avoid overheating and keep his spark operational.

His servos tremble ever so slightly, knocking an empty vial to the ground and just staring as it falls and shatters.

The glass shines on the floor, sharp and almost crystalline in nature and Perceptor's digits curl into his palm as he closes his optics and takes another in-vent.

Being in an active war is going to result in a few casualties, that's just logical. Perceptor's lucky to still be alive, to still feel the heat of his spark if he places his servo on his chassis and focuses. His thoughts wander to places he truly doesn't want them to, places that make him consider completely abandoning field combat in its entirety, places that make him want to hole himself up in his lab and never leave again.

Because science is pure, science is fair, science doesn't aim guns at people's helms and science doesn't just stand there as some overgrown Decepticon psychopath shoots it's processor out and-

And Perceptor in-vents and ex-vents and he keeps going until he feels ready to face the world again, until he feels ready to sweep up the glass shards, until the dull throbbing pain in his spark goes away.

Logic's pure and logic's fair and he stops that train of thought in it's tracks before he starts sounding like Shockwave and his spark stutters for a moment as he thinks about how he's actively had to make the conscious effort to not be like Shockwave and he feels sick to his tanks at the mere thought that his follow Autobots might view him in a similar lens to the Decepticon scientist.

Nobody's ever said it, not directly to his faceplate but even he can see the similarities. But Perceptor cares about people, about life, the Autobot cause and freedom for all, and he'd never experiment on an unwilling subject.

Even if he doesn't often show it, he cares about his comrades and his thoughts stray back to Garrus-9, back to being one of only two bots to leave the planet operational and his spark clenches once more.

Perceptor knows that there's nothing he could have done differently that would have saved more lives, but the pain in his spark keeps appearing and with every day that passes he realises that facing Overlord was the closest he's ever come to staring death in the optics.

It wasn't the first time he's seen good bots lose their lives, and it won't be the last. And that thought makes Perceptor want to curl up and break, just the glass vial.

With one final in-vent, Perceptor crouches down, sweeping up the glass with the dustpan and broom he keeps under his worktable for occasions such as these, and locking away the thoughts that have occurred over the past few minutes.

For now, it's enough to simply work on things that will save lives. For now, it's enough to in-vent and remember that his spark is still humming within his chassis. For now, it's enough to simply be alive.