Rodimus stood in form with the others, all of themhaving decided to give Red Alert a proper send off. Of which was killingRodimus, not that he was letting on to it as he stood tall and firm. He foundhe could more easily take what was happening if he simply rooted himself to theground and stood still. Perhaps not the best way to cope, but he couldnāt startscreaming and throwing a fit in front of everyone, or he could, but he didnātwant to. Respect Red, he deserves that.He moved out of the room once it was over, almost numbly, heād said his wordsas had everyone else, heād paid his respects, and now he just needed to leave.He needed to be alone, if only for an hour. If only for a moment. He just neededa moment. His foggy mind made it difficult to rush down the halls as heād like, trippingover his own pedes and leaning against the wall on occasion. Just make it toyour suite. He punched the panel to open his door and all but fell inside as itclosed behind him. He stumbled and tripped himself onto his knees, fallingrather hard. He stared down at his servos, splayed across metal floor, andslowly bunched them into fists as he felt coolant gather in his optics and soonfall to the floor and over his fists.āYou fragging idiot.ā He whimpered to the floor as he ducked his head, tryingto wrap his head around what Red had done, why heād done it, it didnāt make anysense to Rodimus. He didnāt need to do it, they would have been fine, theycould have handled themselves. A harsh cry tore through Rodimusā vocal processor as he punched the floor, sohard his servo dented in harshly, he didnāt care nor notice. He curled intohimself, holding himself as if it was his only hope to stay together, his onlyhope at being whole. It didnāt work as he screamed a sob, frame shaking harshlyas he began to bawl. Heād known others would die, he had, but he never expected to get this close tothem, to feel as if his very spark had been torn out the moment the other wasgone. Heād let them die, maybe he should have his own spark removed, atone forsome sin, as if it was all his fault. It was. It was his fault. He didnāt doanything and he should have. Should have what? Predicted the future? He shouldhave jumped into action, should have saved him. So, he could what? Boast aboutwhat a great leader he was? He was nothing.He moved to lay on his side, still curled into himself, pulling himself just alittle tighter. He whimpered as he tried to wrap his helm around all that hadhappened, all his feelings. He found he couldnāt make heads or tails of himselfor the situation.He choked and sobbed again, he just wanted this to be some sick nightmare.
