[He can't remember anyone ever comforting him. You're rigid, strong, and unyielding in the Decepticon military; you take care of yourself. You don't buckle, you don't cry, you don't stop to help someone if they can't help themselves. You're a cog and if you don't work, you can be exchanged for something better.
You don't cry.
Fulcrum can't fathom the comfort he's being given, but he takes it readily. Maybe if he could recall the memories of the friends he supposedly has, things would be different. But he has nothing, as far as he knows, to base anything off of. He leans his negligible weight against Ratchet, making miserable sounds and feeling his optics burn hot with flits of light as he sobs.
He already knew, but this solidifies it. The Autobots, individually, aren't all bad. Maybe he really can trust him.
It's stupid, but he feels like he still needs to make an excuse for himself.]
I-- I'm sorry. Hell, I don't... I don't know what overcame me. [He still sounds weak and his voice trembles and Fulcrum hates hearing himself, but he struggles to try to get himself back together.]
no subject
You don't cry.
Fulcrum can't fathom the comfort he's being given, but he takes it readily. Maybe if he could recall the memories of the friends he supposedly has, things would be different. But he has nothing, as far as he knows, to base anything off of. He leans his negligible weight against Ratchet, making miserable sounds and feeling his optics burn hot with flits of light as he sobs.
He already knew, but this solidifies it. The Autobots, individually, aren't all bad. Maybe he really can trust him.
It's stupid, but he feels like he still needs to make an excuse for himself.]
I-- I'm sorry. Hell, I don't... I don't know what overcame me. [He still sounds weak and his voice trembles and Fulcrum hates hearing himself, but he struggles to try to get himself back together.]