Wheelie's wheels creaked across the spotless house, optics scanning the suspiciously perfect room.

"No socks? No cereal bowls? No chaos? Yeah, I don't trust it."

He sniffed dramatically.

"Lemon. Lavender. Lies."

The tiny Autobot climbed onto the counter, muttering about fake fruit and missing snacks. This quiet life was strange. He missed Sam's loud, messy energy more than he'd admit.

"Guess this is what peace feels like," he said softly.

A floorboard creaked.

Wheelie snapped around, bravado returning.

"About time! You're the new caretaker, right? I'm low-maintenance. Just need Wi-Fi, a power outlet, and maybe some snacks."

He grinned.

"Name's Wheelie. I bite sometimes. Usually only if you're evil."