A/N- I like Slingshot, despite the fact that I seem to make him into a villain more often than not. So in compensation, a one-shot introspective from his point of view. Slingshot's opinion of the Autobots is a less-than-happy one. Inspired by Thing With No Talent's 28 Aerialbots, because I didn't fall totally in love with this dysfunctional jet family until she started writing.

x-xxx-x

The grainy image of the seeker swooped across the screen, rolling smoothly to avoid incoming laser fire.

Slingshot stared morosely at the recording. If only I could fly like that… He laid one hand on the screen, Thundercracker twisting in midair under his fingers. Then the Autobots would have to pay attention to us. We could show them that we're more than delinquent children, that we're as good as they are.

He sighed. Who am I kidding? It doesn't matter how good I am, how many times we save their afts. They'll never trust us, and we'll never be more than wannabe seekers to them.

Bitterness welled up inside him. It doesn't matter how hard we try to fit in. We'll never belong here.

Every day, he watched Silverbolt trying to do what they wanted, trying to impress the Autobots. Every day he watched Silverbolt fall just short, humiliating himself in a futile attempt to keep the Autobots happy.

We're just as good as they are! Slag, we're better than they are! Slingshot glared at the screen. We're faster, better fighters, more skilled, and as Superion, stronger than any of them! Over and over we risk our lives, and what do we get in return? Snide comments and ridicule. We get to watch Silverbolt being broke down, one rejection at a time.

Silverbolt was the moderator of the group, always trying to make peace and keep everyone healthy. He would run himself until he collapsed, trying to keep things together.

And there was nothing Slingshot could do to help him. It hurt more than anything in his short life ever had. He was the strong one, not as fast as his brothers or as good in a fight, but the one who would stand up for them, no matter the foe.

I wish I could just take them away from here. To a place where we aren't expected to hate our own wings, where we can be us and not have to try to meet someone else's impossible goals. But they won't go – they want to belong so badly…

The Autobots hated and feared the seekers. That's what it came down to, in the end. They couldn't understand or tolerate the Aerialbots' obsession with the Decepticon jets. They didn't see the beauty or grace in the seekers' flight. For them, the Aerialbots' recording tapes of the seekers not only to study tactics but to gush over their grace and skill was repulsive to the point of bordering on treason.

They don't need to worry about our loyalty, Slingshot though bitterly. Megatron doesn't want us. No one does.

On screen, the seeker turned in a perfect pirouette, the pursuing missile flashing past under his uplifted wings. Another smooth roll and he was gone, flying for home.

Slingshot sat in silence, staring blankly at nothing long after the image went to static.

If only….