Work Text:
Trailbreaker kept trundling doggedly up the switchbacks of Mt. Hood. The sun was past its midpoint already, and the trees were such a deep green they almost glowed. Every mechanometer was full of thriving, organic life.
"Nice day, huh, Spike?" It had been a long time since he'd seen a planet this healthy.
The human didn't respond.
"Spike?" He flicked on his internal sensors. The human was curled up in his back seat, sleeping. His undercarriage clenched with embarrassment. He'd worried the ride would take too long. His processor started flashing through everyone who would've been a better camping buddy. Hound. Hoist. Even Ironhide would probably be there by now.
Spike's eyes fluttered open languidly. "Mm?" He stretched before sitting up, smiling. His helmet had tumbled off his head. "Sorry, I must've dozed off."
Trailbreaker made himself laugh. "Don't worry about it." He shifted gears, trying to go faster. The effect was minimal.
Spike settled back down into the seat. He picked up his dad's big coat that he'd borrowed. It fit over him like a blanket. He watched out of Trailbreaker's window as they drove along in silence.
"I guess I haven't been sleeping much," he said after a while, quietly, as though embarrassed.
"Aw, why not?"
Spike shrugged. "I dunno." Another silence. He played with the draw cord of the coat's hood.
"I kind of feel safe with you." He looked down, the draw cord suddenly more interesting.
"Yeah?" Trailbreaker was glad, of course. He wanted the human to feel safe with him. He wanted everyone to feel safe with him, if they could. But he wasn't sure where the remark was going.
"Yeah. I mean, you're Trailbreaker." Spike knocked gently on the inside of his door. Three inches of solid cybersteel armor, laser-diffracting glass and security locks. "I guess... I feel like I can sleep, you know?" His voice was a little rushed. Trailbreaker recognized the attempt to sound airy, indifferent. Spike sounded like he did, back when he'd had less practice at cheerful.
His defensive coding kicked in hard, and it struck him how small and fragile this kid was, how much risk he took when he went out with one of them, into what had become a war zone.
"Course you can, Spike," he said. He wound the extra safety restraints around him, slipping in under the big coat and locking in securely, holding him at five points. "You know nothing's getting through my force field!"
Spike grinned and hugged the straps gratefully, and Trailbreaker kept chugging along, moving his armored frame up the mountain without hurry.