A while ago, me and my friends were joking about making our wills, and made up some completely random, hilarious stuff. That made me think of Cliffjumper's will, and what might be in it. So this came out.

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers : Prime.

Enjoy!

"It's got to be done." said Ratchet softly. Arcee turned away. She didn't want his pity. "Arcee," said the Prime gently. It was the second time that she was doing this. That didn't help deal with the pain or the loss, however. "Come." She followed him with a clenched jaw to the main silo room. Her digits were balled up in anger at the world. Life was so unfair.

Bumblebee and Bulkhead were standing near the monitor, talking about something inconsequential. They noticed the silent procession. "What's going on?" asked Bulkhead quietly. Optimus Prime sighed. "We are here to read Cliffjumper's will." Their optics widened slightly. They both took a seat on a few crates. Ratchet, Arcee and Optimus also pulled some up and sat. Both Bumblebee and Bulkhead gave her concerned glances. She pretended to ignore them, resisting the urge to cast them an angry glare. They didn't deserve that. They were just concerned.

Optimus solemnly pulled the datapad with the will on it out of his subspace. He had made them make their wills, just in case that anything ever happened. Usually, there was no time for such things; the offlined Bot's belongings were distributed amongst whoever claimed them. But they'd had a lull in the war. Three full earth years, in fact. He didn't like to encourage his team to think about the ultimate reality of death. But, well, some things just had to be done.

Optimus onlined the datapad, and with all optics on him, he began reading:

"The half a cube of energon currently sitting on my desk will be divided equally among my fellow Autobots. In the case that they are all offline along with me, the cube will be given to the Rescue Bots. In the case that they are also offline, it will be given to the human William Fowler as a memento. In the case that I have consumed it, the residue in my tanks shall not be given to any bot/human."

Bulkhead and Bumblebee exchanged glances. Ratchet snorted slightly and thought that he'd gotten away with nobot noticing it.

"The actual cube shall be given to Ratchet in the hopes that he will stop complaining about the fact that we have too few of them. In the case that he is offline, it shall be given to the first bot to find it."

This time, Ratchet snorted out loud. Arcee shifted slightly.

"I bequeath my war relics, consisting of a Vehicon helm, an Insecticon axio fracter, an optic belonging to the brave scout Highlander (the only thing remaining of her), a crystal from the Crystal gardens and a broken wind-up toy from Praxus, to Arcee (She looked up.), to be added to her collection. She should be made aware that the Vehicon helm can also be used for punching when in a bad mood as it is easily repairable." She looked away with a long, pained gaze. Bulkhead, 'Bee and even Ratchet smiled slightly.

"In the case that she is offline, the first two relics will be burned, the third and fourth will be smelted along with my frame and the last will be given to the nearest sparkling.

"This datapad and the one currently sitting on my shelf shall be given to Optimus Prime in the hope that he will not run out of data space and have to borrow somebot's (again.)"

Ratchet rolled his optics, along with Bumblebee. Optimus just shook his head.

" The stylus of the datapad will not be given to Optimus Prime as he keeps losing them."

Now Bumblebee and Bulkhead were grinning at each other. Optimus snorted slightly, also hoping that he'd gotten away with it.

"In the tragic case of his demise, they will be given to Ratchet, in the hope that they will be used properly. In the case that he is also offline, they will promptly be destroyed as this technology should not fall into human hands. I also forbid any bot/human from reading my secret diary."

I wonder what's in there. said Bumblebee, smiling good-naturedly. Bulkhead winked at him. Optimus silenced them with a look.

"The bucket lying in the left corner of my room shall be ceremoniously presented to Megatron, who shall dutifully wear it on his head. He should be made aware that kicking it is also a very good option. If he ends up dead/is offline, it shall be given to the first Decepticon to find it, who shall also be made aware of the option of kicking the bucket."

This time they were all laughing. Optimus smiled. "Seriously?" sputtered their medic, but he was laughing too. All... except Arcee. Her digits tensed once again, holding tight onto the edges of her crate.

"My secret stash of energon treats (located in empty storeroom number 5, in the small hole on the left side of the cupboard, near the second drawer) will be passed on to Bulkhead, as I know that he is particularly partial to Vosnian Bangers treats, with strict cautions not to give any to Arcee because she becomes hyper-"

Arcee stood up. She couldn't take it any more. It was just so typically Cliffjumper. She could almost hear him, reading out his own will. She started off towards the passage. They looked after her, confused. Optimus read the next line in a slightly strained voice.

"In the case of his death, they are to be given to Megatron to consume after six months, because they will go bad by then. (In the hope that his tanks will rust and after his subsequent demise, the remaining ones will be consumed by Starscream.)"

Arcee started to run. "Arcee?" Bulkhead yelled. There was no reply. Bumblebee rose and ran off into the hallway. Bulkhead ran after him. "Wait!"

"I don't think-" Optimus started sensibly, but was cut off abruptly by Ratchet rising. "I'm no psychologist,"He declared. "But I believe somebot is in need of a talk." He walked off. Optimus sighed and got up as well.

Arcee genuinely wished that they would just leave her alone. Let her deal with it in her own way. She was hunched up on her berth, trying not to think about what had just happened. Crowded around her were Bulkhead and Bumblebee. "Arcee-"

"We didn't mean-"

" We weren't laughing at it, really- "

"We're so sorry if we upset you-"

"Out." Ratchet commanded. "Now." The two 'Bots gave him a half irritated look. They left, although reluctantly. Ratchet closed the door behind them. "Well-" He began, but was promptly cut off. "Please, Ratchet, we've been through this before. I'm dealing with it, so now can you go away?" The medic sighed. "Closing yourself off from feeling won't help anyone." He reminded her. "I believe he said that once. Or something like that."

"Yeah, after Stiffen offlined." Stiffen had once been a member of Team Prime. A long time ago, of course. They'd buried him much before Cliffjumper had died. "He said lots of other things, too. He was full of cheesy stuff like that."

She peeked out from behind her arms, to see Ratchet looking at her patiently, sitting on the crate she used as a chair for her desk. She talked with him a little more and then finally, it all came pouring out. She told Ratchet everything, as much as she could remember and manage to get through without her voice cracking and her optics secreting tears.

"Hmm..." Ratchet said at the end of it all, gazing at her thoughtfully. She glared back at him in an accusatory way. She'd expected a little more than just 'Hmm.'

"Well, it seems to me that all you need to do is let go." She stared, surprised. "Let go? Of what?"

"Of the belief that he's not completely gone, and that something – revenge, maybe, from what you tell me – will somehow bring him back." She frowned. "What - I don't even now who murdered him!"

"Admit it to yourself." Said Ratchet brusquely. "Seeing him drip dark energon all over the floor, cut in half – I don't think that was the healthiest way to closure. That's why you react so vehemently whenever he's mentioned, and also why you refuse to talk about it on all but the rarest occasions. You're afraid to let go."

Arcee looked away. Ratchet continued, "And the best way to do this is to just accept it. Involve yourself in something else. Forgive yourself."

"Stop preaching, Ratchet." She muttered, but only half-heartedly. "I know all this." Ratchet shook his head and got up. He walked to the door. "And Arcee..." She looked up to see Ratchet watching her kindly. "I'm sure he wanted you to smile. That's why he wrote his will that way." He left.

Arcee stood up, though she wasn't sure what she wanted to do, or how. She walked to the door and opened it. She stood on the threshold of the main hall, not quite in, but not quite out. Indecision was only her first emotion. She was scared of what Ratchet had told her – not because it was true, she knew that it was, but because she was afraid that she couldn't let go. She was too broken to do this anymore. It was oh-so-tempting to just box it away, store it away in some corner of some part of her mind that she would never access again. But he wouldn't have wanted that... Would he have?

Closing yourself off from feeling won't help anyone. She set off resolutely into the corridor. Her decision was made. Cliffjumper had worked so hard to put her back together. She couldn't regress now, no matter how tempting it was. It wouldn't be right. If she'd ever truly loved him... She'd have to try.

She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she almost bumped into Optimus Prime. "Arcee." He greeted. She nodded, then made to move off. "Would you like... to hear the last lines of the will? They were for you." The Prime asked carefully. Arcee stopped. She turned around very slowly, then inclined her head.

Optimus pulled out the datapad and scrolled down to the last bit. Arcee could barely vent. "And last but not least... to Arcee, I bequeath my smile, with the hope that she will wear it often and keep it carefully." Optimus smiled at her gently. Effortlessly, a grin rose to her faceplate. I'll smile for you, Cliff.

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