After all we've been through, how could you two forget me? How could you two just simply walk away, and leave me behind? How could you close me out of our bond, and pretend like I never existed? Why?

The picture in his hands shook, as his head fell forward slightly. Around the walls of his room pictures decorated the walls. Each had a common theme of three mechs in various poses. In every single one of them, the three were always together.

Why have you two forgotten about me? What did I do wrong? Why do you hate me?

A despairing sob echoed in the small room, as the mech curled up in a small ball on the recharge berth, optics dimming in pain and sorrow. "Why?" The soft, sobbing word was spoken to the empty air and nothing else.

His hand rose up to touch his chassis, as once again his bond attempted to break down the wall. He had felt the two erect a wall between each other whenever they were particularly furious at each other, but this was the first time they had blocked him out. And they had been blocking him out for an amazingly long time.

It was as if he had never existed. It was as if he was nothing. Just nothing. His spark twisted painfully at the reminder, and again it threw itself at the wall erected between him and happiness. The wall remained, a silent testament to the fact that they didn't want him anymore.

They didn't want him, their own triplet.

"C'mon you two! That's enough, no need to fight." The brilliantly orange mech stared at the two with pleading optics as they wrestled for the upper hand. "Sides, Sunny, c'mon, dad and daddy are gonna blow a fuse when they find out you two are fighting again."

Sideswipe looked up as Sunstreaker snarled, "Then make him give back my art pad!"

"Sideswipe-" The orange mech said chillingly, "Give Sunny back his pad."

"Only if he apologizes!"

The orange mech looked to both of his triplets, before shaking his head and sitting down next to the two struggling forms. "What happened this time?" He asked, voice exasperated, bond quivering with the emotional feedback of the fact he was actually listening.

His head fell against the cool, hard unforgiving metal as he stared at nothing. His CPU instantly traveled back to the battle where this had all began-

Sideswipe slammed a fist into the nearest Decepticon face, and vaulted over the stunned mech, optics searching desperately for any sign of his triplets. He could feel rage over Sunstreaker, but there was fear, terror, and pain whizzing across the bond from his triplet.

The orange mech threw a punch at the Decepticons face, still not quiet believing that this was actually happening to him. He wasn't a fighter- he had always played peacemaker to his triplets.

Two echoing rages lashed from his triplets' side of the bond, as they dished out heavy damage from their side of the battlefield. He viewed the distance between the three of them, before determinedly wading in to reach them.

His bond reached out to them, concentrating hard enough to make himself known over their own emotions. Sharp pain blossomed in his back, and he fell with a scream of pain. Horrification lashed across the bond before all went dark…

The mech curled up a little more, optics dimming in the pain that memory brought up. After that battle, he had been found and reformatted into the body he was currently in. A little shorter, a bit of a different design- but that didn't really make any difference. There was still the triplet bond that could never be broken.

Not broken, but he was learning that he could be shut out.

One hand gripped the side of the berth as a painful sob wracked the body.

Just because he had been reformatted, changed on the outside shouldn't mean they hate him! What had he done now? He knew they had always considered him weak, and there were times they had wondered if they really were triplets- somehow he had always ended up being peace-maker to their constant bickering and fighting.

He sniffled a little as his CPU latched onto that idea. Maybe it was because he was too weak. Were they keeping him out because he was too weak?

"Oy, you! You better stop picking on him." The three mechs looked up from the miserable looking orange mech, shuffling awkwardly as he looked down at the ground.

"Why should we? He was practically asking for it, what with his telling us we were breaking the rules." The tallest of the three snarled.

"Because, his triplets are coming right at this moment with the express intent of tearing you apart for making their triplet sad," was the calm reply back, "If I were you, I'd run."

"Phah! If this little weakling here is any indication of what those two are like, then they'll soon be joining their triplet-"

A low growl of anger broke the mech off mid-sentence, as he turned, optics widening in surprise. The golden Lamborghini stalked closer to the mech, optics furiously burning. "What do you think you're doing to Swiftstrike?"

"You're his triplet?" The horrified faceplate stared up at the mech, as all energon seemed to drain from his face.

"Correct. Swiftstrike, was this mech picking on you? I'm more then willing to kill him if he was."

"No Sunny." Swiftstrike quickly corrected. "We were merely discussing-"

"He was picking on you." The three mechs originally picking on Swiftstrike whirled, staring at the red Lamborghini in horrified consternation. "Sunny, I think I'm willing to put off our earlier argument if you'll help me offline these brats-"

"SIDES! SUNNY! STOP!" Swiftstrike practically screamed at them, attempting to keep the two from killing the three mechs that had originally been picking on him.

"Really Strike, you're too soft."

"You shouldn't fight. Besides which, what if someone sees you-" Swiftstrike trailed off as his optics spotted the security forces. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker both stopped, dismay clearly written across their faces.

Swiftstrike calmly placed himself in front of his triplets, as the security guard stopped before them. "What's going on here?" He growled. Swiftstrike simply shrugged.

"I'm not certain sir. We heard screaming from over here, and when we came to look-"

Sideswipe nodded as Sunstreaker simply continued glowering directly at the security gurad. The guard ignored it as he turned to Swiftstrike. "You're not lying to protect your triplets, are you?"

"Since when do I lie about such a thing?" Swiftstrike demanded, staring the guard directly in the optic. "For once in their life-time, those two didn't start the fight."

"Yeah, why would we want to beat up these guys for?" Sideswipe laughed, giving one of the mechs a sly kick. The mech groaned, and the guard sighed.

"Fine, I'll let you three off this time, but don't think I believe you for an astrosecond."

The bittersweet memory drifted through his CPU, further cementing the idea that they had cast him aside as too weak. They had always had to come rescue him. Oftentimes, while they hadn't said anything about it, he could've sworn there was some small amount of derision in their CPU's about the entire rescue business.

Weak. He was too weak to be with them. He had been watching them closely; both of them had gotten more violent over the time they had started ignoring him and his attempts at creating peace. The fights they started picking were closer together, went longer, and it seemed like times they were actually trying to kill someone rather then beat them up.

The picture in his hands trembled, and hurriedly he released it, not wanting to damage the picture. There were so few of them- he had always thought the three of them would be together forever. Weren't they part of the same spark? Weren't they part of him?

Just like he was part of them. It shouldn't of turned out like this, this terrible feeling of being outcast, not belonging and forced out into the darkness. He needed them- to be able to snuggle up and listen to their spark beats, to laugh and joke with them, to be able to feel the emotions as they came.

Not this horrid blankness across the bond, his spark ready, open and begging to receive even a scrap of feeling, but their feelings completely blocked off from him as he was blocked from them.

The picture fell out of the limp hand, slowly drifting down to the floor. He allowed it to go, wondering if there was any chance of making it up to the two. If he had any chance at all to be brought back to his triplets sparks.

Obviously not, if they had blocked him out of the bond, the number one reason why he hadn't said anything to them. He had multiple chances to reveal that he was actually Swiftstrike, but he hadn't. Instead he waited quietly for them to open the bond and contact him instead. Obviously he had done something wrong, but he couldn't correct it if they wouldn't tell him what he had done wrong. They hadn't contacted him however. They still weren't, and he could feel the last few pieces of denial slipping from his fingers.

If they hadn't contacted him by now, then they didn't want him. Period. His head tilted back to stare at the various pictures decorating the wall. If Decepticons found the pictures, then they would try to use it against all three of them. Moreover, knowing the two, eventually they would break into his room, and see the pictures. They would then mercilessly tease him about it.

Slowly he stood, and began taking the pictures off one by one. As each was taken off, he began building his own wall to the emptiness in his spark. If they didn't want him, then he would close off his spark to them. As he built the wall, he hesitated, before leaving it incomplete. If they truly wished to get to him, then they could break through.

He bent to pick the last picture from off the ground, and looked at the door. The safest bet to destroy the pictures would be to throw them in the incinerator. The entire base was quiet at this moment, so the chances of him running into anyone were minute-

He started to the door, before pausing to look at the mirror. A tear streaked face stared back at him, and he set down the pictures to scrub at the marks. They were slowly scrubbed away until only the faintest trace remained.

With a sigh, he picked up the pictures again, and walked out the door. The cool, brightly lit hallways stretched before him. Silently he walked past the various doors, optics darting from side to side to stare at them slightly suspiciously, praying that no one would bother coming out to see whom was walking through the hallways.

The sound of a door beginning to open made him jump, and quickly patter around a corner. Voices rose up into the hallway as the two fighting mechs began screaming at each other. The mech ignored the fighting despite his wish that he could go back and smooth it over, and hurriedly began walking to the incinerator.

As he walked, he didn't notice the picture on top slowly fall off before gently drifting down to the ground. It fluttered into a corner, and firmly wedged itself there, unnoticed and unseen.

It was simply waiting.

a/n: picture that goes along with this: http://Shioji-san(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/11-Memory-121504621 most of the credit goes to them for inspiring me.