#dreadwing lives

——————————

Blades didn’t know what he was expecting when he went on a walk along the beach, but it most certainly wasn’t a large Cybertronian lying in in the sand, looking like he’d crashed landed and resting lifeless on patch of sand soaked with energon. Technically, the copter wasn’t even supposed to be out here, as Sigma-17 had to maintain their cover, but everything at the firehouse had just been several kinds of too much that morning, so he had, for once, flown off on his own and landed on a beach he knew no humans ever really came to, intent to just take a walk and clear his head.

Except, upon coming around a bend, he’d found the aforementioned Cybertronian. For a moment, he’d simply frozen, but then the instinct ingrained by his training kicked in and he sprung into action. See, Blades was a trained and licensed triage medic. He couldn’t perform complex surgeries or anything on the level of a proper medic, but in the Rescue Academy on Cybertron he’d taken the courses for field level medical aid so that, if he’d ever run into someone during a rescue who’d been hurt, he could treat them and keep them alive until they could get to a medical facility. The training g had been fun, especially when he’d studied with-

He shook his head roughly before that thought could complete itself. He didn’t want to think about the time….Before. It hurt, remembering what and who he’d lost during his millennia of stasis. Before he could fall back into grief, training snapped back into place and his processor quieted. He knelt next to the fallen Cybertronian, noting that they were a Seeker frame, and carefully turned the bot over. His next thought was an observation that the bot was a mech, and that the energon soaking into the sand under his frame was spilling from a large hole torn straight through his chest. That meant the first thing he needed to do was seal the leaking lines to keep him from losing more energon. After that, he could call Heatwave. He didn’t have the skills to patch this wound up fully. Once he’d made sure this mech wouldn’t die here and now, he would need to get him to proper care. One of the stasis pods would certainly help, though if they wanted the wound healed fully he’d need to be in the pod for a while. The other alternative was contacting Optimus. Blades knew the Prime had a proper medic on his team, which might be the better option.

As his processor raced, trying to think of a plan, his hands worked on autopilot. He slipped the tools he needed from his subspace, cleaning and removing grime where it was needed to prevent infection, removing bits of sand and stone from the wound, and using a small welder to seal off the free-flowing energon lines. He covered loose, sparking wires and circuits, , rerouting a few of them in places where it was needed. Finally, after many long minutes, he finished and sat back on his heels.

It was then the helicopter realized his comm. was pinging with an alert for an incoming message, and had been for quite some time. In fact, it seemed he’d missed several messages. From Heatwave, Chase, Boulder, Dani, the Chief, Cody…Pit, even Graham had sent him a message. Embarrassment and guilt settled heavy in his chest, and he lifted his hand to his audial to accept the current call. As soon as his comm. clicked to life, Dani’s voice was coming through it.

“Blades! Finally! Where are you? We’ve all been worried sick, you know.” his partner scolded. Blades couldn’t help the small smile that twisted his lips upwards. It was nice knowing she cared. He loved Dani dearly. She was family, after all. “You know you’re not supposed to even be out of the firehouse on your own, you idiot bot!” she continued, her voice holding an undercurrent of worry despite the insult. Blades didn’t take it personally. “What if someone had seen you? You need to-“

And now that was enough. “Dani.” he interrupted her, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “I’m sorry for ignoring you and everyone else, but right now there’s a bigger emergency than me risking our cover. I found an inured bot on that small beach behind the mountain. You know, the one no one likes to go to because the hike is too long? He’s in a really bad way. I have triage training, and I’ve patched him up, but he needs either a stasis pod or a proper medic, as close to immediately as possible.”

There was silence on the other end, before-

“Alright. I’ll tell everyone to come to your location. I’m with Dad and Chase right now. We all split up to look for you, but we’ll meet you there. Don’t move, and keep the bot alive.” Dani instructed. Despite himself, Blades was smiling again. Yes, he really did love Dani. She knew when it was time to get serious. He had a feeling he’d be forgiven for his blunder today, given the circumstances.

“Will do. I’ll see you soon.”

“Just hang tight, partner. And stay out of trouble.”

“You too.” he chirped, hands still working over the bot to patch up his more minor wounds now that the life-threatening one was dealt with. “And Dani?”

“Yeah, Blades?”

“I’m sorry for worrying you.”

There was a beat of silence, and then her voice came though, softer and fonder.

“Don’t worry about it. You did the right thing.”

Then the comm. line cut off, and Blades was left alone to in the silence. He let his processor drift, kneeling in the energon soaked sand as he worked on saving the life of a bot whose name he didn’t even know.

——————————

Chase was worried. He knew Blades was more capable than the others thought he was, but that didn’t stop him from worrying. He hadn’t been surprised when the copter bot had left the firehouse that morning. He’d seen the way he had held his rotors tight to his spinal strut, seen the way he’d fidgeted around the others, seen the way his optics had slipped and gone dull and distant. He knew today was not a good day for Blades, so his disappearance had not been a surprise. He’d been mildly concerned, simply because he did not know if Blades would be able to avoid being seen in his more distracted state, but he hadn’t been too worried. Still, when Heatwave had insisted on going to track down their rogue teammate, he hadn’t protested. He’d even offered to let Dani ride with him and the Chief to make things simpler.

But then Blades had finally picked up Dani’s comm. and that was when he started to worry. A strange bot, found injured on Griffin Rock? It raised many questions. Where had they come from? Who where they? How had they been injured? Chase wasn’t worried that the bot would die. He knew Blades had triage training, so he was confident his teammate would be able to keep his unexpected patient alive. Even so, this new development raised many questions that Chase did not have the answers to, and that was what worried him. There were not many Cybertronians on Earth, he knew. Aside from Sigma-17, there was Team Prime, and….the Decepticons. As far as Chase was aware, and he admittedly did not know as much as he would like, there were no unaligned bots on the planet.

Which meant this newcomer was either one of Prime’s team, a Decepticon, or he had crash landed on the island from space and wasn’t attached to either faction. It would be easy enough to confirm; they simply had to contact Prime and ask if he was missing a teammate, and if not ask if he recognized the bot in question. If this stranger was a neutral party or an Autobot, Chase knew there would be nothing to worry about. But if they were a Decepticon…well, that was the root of the police bot’s concerns. Sigma-17 was a rescue team. They knew rudimentary combat skills, enough to defend themselves or those they were rescuing in an emergency, but they were non-combatants. By the standards of the War, his team would be classified as civilians. If this new Cybertronian was a Decepticon…Chase wasn’t sure they’d be able to protect Griffin Rock, this time. He wasn’t sure they’d even be able to protect themselves.

Before he could slip even further into his own processor, they arrived at the coordinates Blades had sent. His snapped into focus, his doors popping open to allow his passengers out, and then he was transforming and walking over to where he could see Blades. As he approached his friend, he heard Boulder and Heatwave pull up behind him and transform. Blades looked up from his work when his three teammates stopped next to him, and Chase was mildly disconcerted to see the amount of energon soaking the sand and coating the copter’s hands.

“Blades, what happened?” Heatwave demanded, voice rough.

“I don’t know.” he shrugged helplessly. “I came out here for some space and to take a walk, cause I know this beach is practically abandoned, and I just found him like this.”

Indeed, this close, Chase could see that the mystery bot was in fact a mech. That answered one question, but none of the others. How irritating. It was also making him very nervous and queasy to see just how badly injured the very, very large bot was. Boulder too, seemed to feel ill at the sight of such horrible wounds and so much energon. Distantly, Chase noted that the bot might be even bigger than High Tide. He had no idea how they were supposed to get him back to the firehouse.

Heatave made a frustrated noise, clearly displeased with the lack of information though he knew Blades was not to blame. “Well can you tell how he got so injured?”

“A weapon of some sort, though not one I’ve ever seen the damage of before.” Blades said, frowning. His processor was clearly working hard, trying to turn over the facts he knew to figure out the bigger picture. “There’s also signs of older damage. I can’t be 100% sure, but I think this bot is, or maybe was, involved in the War.”

Heatwave paused, seeming more wary with this new information. “…can you tell which side?”

“No. Any faction identifier or badge has been destroyed or scraped off like most of his paint. I can only just figure out what his colors are supposed to be, and even them only barely.”

Chase could tell that Heatwave was annoyed, but the fire truck only grumbled his curses under his breath before sighing. “Alright. What do we need to do?”

Blades startled, looking surprised. “You’re asking me?”

“Of course.” Chase cut in before Heatwave could snap something rude and further stress the already clearly frazzled helicopter. “You are the triage medic here. Protocol dictates that, in the absence of a full medic, any medical decisions would fall to the next available medical expert. In this case, that would be you.”

Blades blinked a few times, before shaking himself and sitting up straighter. “Like I said earlier, he needs a stasis pod. Badly. I don’t have the ability to fix him completely, my training only covered keeping patients alive until they could get to someone who could repair them fully. The only one on planet I know who might be able to help is Optimus’s medic. He can also heal completely in one of our stasis pods, but it would take longer than just asking Optimus for help.”

Heatwave grunted. “Got it. He needs a stasis pod now, and a medic later. We can do that.”

That seemed to be enough to startle Boulder into awareness, and the bulldozer jumped before nodding and turning to Heatwave. “Graham and I can figure out a way to transport him safely. Though we’ll need your help, Blades. You have a better understanding of his condition than us.”

The copter nodded, and Chase let that be his que to retreat to back to where the humans were waiting. Apparently, they didn’t want to get too close in case their presence caused an issue with the unknown bot’s care.

“Well?” Chief asked. “How’s our newest guest?

“Unwell.” Chase said succinctly. “He is severely injured and appears to be involved in the War in some fashion, though it is impossible to tell for which side. We are going to transport him to the firehouse in order to put him into a stasis pod so that he may heal. Graham, I believe Boulder requires your assistance in that respect.” he said, directing the last part to the engineer.

Graham nodded, making no protest as he jogged forward towards his partner, Boulder already turning and crouching to begin discussing plans. Dani followed him quickly, though she split from his path to join Blades, clambering up onto his leg and patting his canopy as she shot him a reassuring smile.

It was here that Kade made his own opinion known. “Hey hey hey, let’s slow down!” he protested. “You just said you don’t know what side this guy’s on, and you want to bring him back home? We can’t do that! Why can’t Blades just fix him here and we can send him on his way?”

Chase tilted his head. “Blades is a licensed triage medic. He does not have the training necessary to fully repair him. Besides, even if he did, I do not believe it would be wise to simply ‘send him on his way’, and you said. If he truly is a Decepticon, then doing so would risk leading the entirety of the Decepticon army right here to Griffin Rock.”

Kade froze, seeming suddenly queasy. “Oh.”

Chief sighed. “Fair point, partner. I agree we can’t just leave him or let him die. It wouldn’t be right, even if he isn’t on our side. But for safety’s sake, would it be possible to keep him unconscious until we can confirm his identity with Optimus?”

Chase nodded. “Indeed, Chief. I believe that is the current plan. As soon as he is safely in a stasis pod, we will attempt to contact Optimus. With luck, we can have this matter sorted by the end of today.”

“Good.” Chief smiled. “Then let’s get to work.”

“Agreed.”

Chase returned to his team, Chief and Kade following at his heel, to find they had come up with a plan to transport the unknown Cybertronian. Working together, the rescue team was able to get the large flight-frame settled into a make-shift trailer the engineer duo had thrown together, and after hitching it to Boulder’s vehicle mode the whole group made their way to the firehouse using the tunnels in order to avoid being seen. Barring Blades, of course, who instead flew straight to base with Dani in order to prepare a stasis pod.

By the time Chase and the others arrived, the pod was set up and open to admit the unknown mech. It took all four of Sigma-17 working together to lift him into it, but then the glass door was sliding shut and frost soon hid the bot from view as the stasis function of the pod took affect. Now, all that was left was for Blades to clean himself up, and for Heatwave to contact Optimus about their guest.

Chase just hoped this development didn’t come back to bite them.

——————————

Dreadwing woke to the hiss of an unfamiliar system disengaging and onlined his optics to see icy mist billowing to the floor as a glass door slid up from in front of him. A stasis pod? That was odd. The Nemesis had no stasis pods and he knew the Autobots did not have the means to maintain or build one either. He was also not aware there were any other Cybertronians on the planet. So where was he, and how had he gotten into a stasis pod? The last thing he remembered was fleeing the Nemesis, although….he did have very vague, hazy memories of a crash. Had he been discovered and saved before he could offline? If so, he would have to thank his unexpected savior. Unless, of course, it was an Autobot and he had only been saved so he could be locked away. If that was the case, a bot was going to die here today and it would not be him.

The stasis pod fully disengaged from him, and he was able to step out and onto the floor. He glanced down at himself, humming idly. It seemed that he had been fully repaired either before or while in the pod. That was good for him. He looked around, frowning at his odd surroundings. The location he was in had medical supplies, but was clearly no full medical bay. Perhaps it was only set up for emergencies, then? His wings twitched when he picked up the sound of pede steps beyond the doorway, and his gaze turned towards the sound. After a moment, he realized whoever it was wasn’t coming towards him, but rather they seemed to be…pacing? Yes, that is what it sounded like. Curiosity piqued, Dreadwing strode towards the door, making sure his own steps were quiet so as not to alert the other to his presence. He stepped though, looking around…and his optics blew wide.

It was a youngling. A small, orange and white helicopter bot was pacing back and forth in tight circles in the center of the room. Dreadwing was willing to bet that this little flyer was even younger than the Autobot scout. As the mechling turned to pace in another circle, the Seeker caught sight of the emblem on his chest. At first, he saw only a badge similar to the Autobot brand and his frame began to stiffen. Then the rest of the badge processed in his mind and his vents froze.

The Rescue Bot insignia.

This tiny little flying mechling was a Rescue Bot. But how? Megatron had seen to the destruction of the Rescue Bot headquarters in the early days of the war, and had sent his soldiers to systematically hunt down and offline any who had survived the initial attack or had not been present during it. Dreadwing and his brother had joined the Decepticons after massacre, but it was one the only acts the Decepticons had committed that they had wholly disapproved off. The Rescue Bots had been unaffiliated with any faction. They took an oath of neutrality, a vow to save any and every life they could regardless who who or what that life was. Megatron had wanted them gone because he’d wanted to make a statement, but also because he wanted to deny the Autobots any potential allies or any aid that the Rescue Bots would have given them.

It had been a great loss, and had been one of the reasons Dreadwing had initially wished to avoid choosing one side or the other. The Decepticons, in his mind, took things too far. The Autobots, while more restrained, had initially risen from the regime in which he and his brother had suffered under. But then….Vos had fallen, and word had spread that his city’s destruction had been the doing of the Autobots. He and Skyquake had been forced to pick a side, then. He’d gotten over his hesitance at the Decepticon methods and given Lord Megatron his undying loyalty. And now…he was here, betrayed by the one who he as sworn himself to, watching a youngling Rescue Bot pace in nervous circles. It was something that should have been impossible.

Suddenly, the mechling froze, and wide amber optics turned to him. Idly, Dreadwing realized he must have made some noise, and then the little copter was yelping and scrabbling back. He paused, then hurried forward, his hands fluttering as if unsure what to do. Before the little one got too close, Dreadwing locked his own sharp, red optics onto him, and the bot froze in place with a startled yip.

For a long moment, there was only silent staring.

——————————

Blades was pacing. There wasn’t much else he could do. The day they had brought back the large Seeker, Heatwave had contacted Optimus. Only, the Prime had very quickly shut him down, explaining they were busy with an issue of “upmost importance” and that he would return their contact when he was able to. That had been three weeks ago, and he hadn’t called back. The Seeker was still in stasis, and Heatwave was once against attempting to make contact, for the 15th day in a row. Chase and the Chief were on patrol, and Boulder and the other humans were at Blossom Vale, having a picnic. Blades had opted to remain behind, wanting to keep an eye on the Seeker.

In the time since finding the large mech, Blades had done some research. He’d had to dig around the Sigma’s files, and dig through the files of the computer that connected them to Optimus, as well as dig through the various data-pads that had been left to them by High Tide and Optimus. It wasn’t much, but it was enough that he’d been able to piece together information about the War that the Prime hadn’t been telling them. Now, Blades understood why the War had started. The civil unrest had been a thing even before Sigma-17 had been formed, when he was still in the early days of training, it had been mild, then, but it had been there. So he wasn’t surprised that it had grown worse, especially if the root causes of the unrest hadn’t ever been addressed.

He also knew, from the information he’d dug up in his search, that after the fall of Vos, most Seekers had joined the Decepticons. Which meant that his patient was, in all likelihood, a Decepticon himself. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. But he hadn’t told the others his suspicions. Mostly because…something about the situation was odd. Optimus didn’t strike him as the type of mech who would inflict or approve of that type of wound being inflicted on a mech. So unless he had someone on his team who was excessively violent and he couldn’t control, Blades didn’t see that wound coming from the Autobots. Which meant it had come from the Decepticons. Of course, that only raised more questions. Namely, why would they do that to one of their own, if the mech really was a ‘Con? He wanted to get answers before he shared his suspicions. He didn’t want to condemn the Seeker to anything bad if he was wrong.

Unfortunately, that hadn’t been all he had learned, in the past few weeks. In one of the data pads High Tide had left about the early days of the war, there had been a mention of the “end of the Rescue Force”. It had just been a mention, a reference to an event that was probably detailed in a separate data pad. But he hadn’t ever found that separate data pad. And when he remembered What Optimus had said, when he’d first found them..”

“I was not aware Rescue Teams were…still active.”

He’d said it slowly, haltingly, as if choosing the words carefully. He’d paused before saying the last part too. At the time, Blades hadn’t thought much of it. But with the information about the War Optimus had allowed them to have, and the mention of the “end of the Rescue Force” in that one data pad, well…Blades was starting to think that “active” had not been the word that the Prime had actually meant. Something had happened, something he didn’t have enough information to figure out yet, but the faint picture he was starting to get from the pieces of information he did have wasn’t one he liked. It was another reason he was hesitant to share what he suspected about the Seeker. Optimus was keeping vital information from Sigma-17. He didn’t care if the Prime didn’t want them fighting in the War. He agreed that it was a bad idea. But he was withholding information that Blades suspected his team would very much want, and they didn’t even know it.

So here he was, pacing restlessly as his processor turned over the information he got, unsure how or even if he should share it. Would his team even believe him? He doubted they would. He knew they thought he was silly and couldn’t understand complex ideas, but that was far from the truth. After all, of all the Rescue Bots he had the greatest understanding of human nature and culture. His understanding wasn’t always 100% accurate, and just because he understand the what didn’t mean he understand the why, but he still understood more than any of the others. And sure, he applied most of his ability to learn new information to pop culture rather than the things the others might consider more “worthwhile”, but that was only because pop culture was more fun. Plus, pop culture was where humanity really displayed they way they ticked. Did it really make him that much of an idiot if all that was the case?

He was startled from his spiraling thoughts by a sound from the direction of the make-shift medical bay. The copter glanced in that direction, thinking it was one of his teammates, only to yelp and leap back upon seeing the Seeker. He’d known the other bot was large, but seeing him awake and up just confirmed how large. The red optics too, made discomfort curl in Blade’s tanks. The data-pads had suggested that red optics were typical of Decepticons, though they shouldn’t be used as an identifier of such. Even so, it was another tick in favor of his theory. Then the scene caught up to him, and medical training overrode his temporary moment of panic.

This bot wasn’t supposed to be up yet. In fact, even if he had been fully healed by the pods it was supposed to keep him under until Optimus could arrive. Except….Blades must have put in the settings wrong. He was so used to setting the stasis pods to release once the healing process was complete that he must have input that setting without realizing it. Which…presented a problem. Is this mech was hostile, he didn’t think his team could handle it. Those thoughts circled in the back of his processor as he directed the bulk of his worry towards making sure his patient was alright. His hands flapped awkwardly as he approached the larger flyer, ready to skim over his frame to check out his condition, when piercing red optics locked onto him. He froze with a high pitched squeak, his own optics blown wide as that gaze pinned him in place.

For a long moment, the two Cybertronians merely stared at each other.

Then Blades, getting increasingly nervous, broke the silence. “Are you okay?” he asked, curling and tucking his hands against his canopy. “The stasis pod should have healed you completely, but you were hurt pretty bad. Even most of your paint was gone, though it looks like your color nanintes were able to fix that while you were healing.”

Indeed, the mech standing in front of him was now in full color, his purple and yellow paint bold and bright on his frame. It did seem, however, that he was still missing a faction brand. If he’d ever had one, of course, though the copter strongly suspected he did.

The Seeker seemed put off for a moment, as if he didn’t know why Blades was worried. “I am well.” he said carefully. “Are you the one who repaired me?”

“Well, sort of?” Blades’s rotors fluttered against his back. “I’m a triage medic, so I couldn’t fix you completely, but I kept you online until my team and I could get you into a pod.”

The Seeker narrowed his eyes. “Team?” he repeated, obviously suspicious.

Blades squeaked again, shoulders hunching. “We’re Rescue Bots.” he gestured at his insignia before his hands tucked back against his canopy. “Team Sigma-17. I’m Blades.”

The Seeker was silent for a long moment. “You may call me Dreadwing.” he said slowly. His gaze was still piercing.

Blades nodded, then took a few steps forward, and when Dreadwing made no move to stop him, he closed the gap between them. “Do you mind if I scan you over one last time? I just want to be sure all your systems are in order.”

The Seeker bowed his helm, and Blades lifted his hands to skim over plating, using his built in scanning systems he’d gotten in his triage training to check his patient over. Everything was coming back fine, but with a wound as serious as his had been Blades away taking no chances.

“You are a Rescue Bot.” Dreadwing spoke. His voice was low, and there was an odd note to it.

“Yep. Me, Boulder, Chase, and Heatwave. We crashed here a while ago and Prime stationed us on this island to act as a rescue team for the locals.” he explained distractedly.

Dreadwing made a soft hum. “Prime knows you are here? Are you Autobots, then?”

Blades frowned. “He knows. He visits, sometimes, but not often. We haven’t been able to contact him lately though.” He was too focused on his task to think about whether he should actually,be answering so freely. The second question gave him pause, though. “No? At least, not really? We’re a Rescue Team. Rescue Bots take oaths off non-affiliation. We can’t side with any particular group or individual since our job is to help any bot or being that needs it.” He was reading over the results of his scans, mouth turned down. “We’re more closely tied to the Autobots right now, but that mostly because we don’t know much of what happened with the war. We were in stasis until we crashed.” He let the readings flicker away, and froze when he realized how much he’d shared. “Uhhh….”

Dreadwing only snorted, actually looking fairly amused. “Yes, I think it is quite clear now that you are no warrior, little youngling.” he rumbled. His expression darkened. “I understand why Prime stationed you here, out of sight. Megatron would see you hunted and slaughtered if he knew a Rescue Team still functioned.”

This made Blades freeze, and as he recalled Optimus’s first words to them, and that data pad, dread began to build in his spark. “What?” he asked weakly.

Dreadwing stared. “You were not told?” he sounded…angry. “That is foolish. It is not a pleasant tale, but you should have been told if only to ensure you understand the importance of your existence remaining secret.”

Blades swallowed. “Optimus doesn’t really tell us much of anything about the War, and the data pads he leaves only really cover the basic and important bits, not the details.” he whispered. “Does…does Megatron wanting my team offlined have anything to do with the “end of the Rescue Force”? I read about it in one of the data pads, but it was just a mention. I couldn’t find any details other than that one phrase.”

Dreadwing’s gaze was solemn as the little bot lifted his optics to meet it. “Yes.” he said bluntly. “In the early days of the War, Megatron grew angry that the Rescue Bots aligned with no faction, and he wanted to deprive the Autobots of any who might aid or help them. He ordered the destruction of the Rescue Force. The Headquarters was destroyed, and all Rescue Bots present were massacred. Any who survived, and any who had not been present in the initial attack, were systematically hunted and slain.”

Blades’s knees felt weak. He pressed his hands to Dreadwing’s chest to steady himself, grateful that the larger flyer didn’t protest it. His rotors rattled madly against his back with his distress, and his optics were blown wide.

“But that would mean…”

“You and your team are the last Rescue Bots in existence. All the others are offline and have been for many, many millennia.”

The copter’s knees gave out, and Dreadwing was quick to grasp his frame to keep him from hitting the ground. A sharp keen left Blades’s vocalizer, and the Seeker blessedly said nothing and made no moves to push as the youngling processed the new information.

It was, of course, that moment that the others chose to return.

——————————

Chase was frowning. “That is not entirely news. Optimus implied as much when we asked him about the rest of the Rescue Force. I assume the rest of the Rescue Teams were folded into the Autobot ranks when the War began.”

Boulder frowned. “That would make sense, though I have a hard time believing the others would just….abandon in the oaths of neutrality we all took.”

“They did not.” The stranger cut in. “When the War began, the Rescue Force remained neutral. They aided and rescued mechs from both factions. Megatron offered them the chance to join the Decepticons, and they refused. They wished to hold true to their oaths to serve and protect all who needed it. Megatron did not take kindly to the refusal. In order to make an example of them, and also to remove a faction that would aid his enemies, he destroyed the Rescue Force Headquarters and offlined every Rescue Team there. Survivors of the initial attack, as well as those who were simply not present, were subsequently hunted down and slaughtered.” he said bluntly.

There was dead silence in the bunker, with horror growing palpable in the air.

“Dreadwing.” Blades’s voice was weak. “Maybe that was a bit blunt.” He glanced at his teammates. “I think he’s right. I found a mention of the “end of the Rescue Force” in one of High Tide’s data pads. Plus…remember what Optimus said when he first saw us? “I was not aware Rescue Teams were still active.” That’s what he told us.”

Dreadwing. So that was the stranger’s name. Still, he was more worried about the bots. Boulder looked horrified and increasingly sick. Heatwave looked stunned and angry and grief-stricken all at once. Chase looked disbelieving. None of them seemed to be able to protest what they’d been told.

“Dreadwing, is it?” Dad’s voice rose in the silence. “You seem to know a lot about the topic.”

“Any Cybertronian who was alive at the time knows about the Fall of the Rescue Force. It was a great tragedy.”

“That’s why Optimus is so adamant about keeping us here.” Blades whispered. “He knew. He probably thought we’d be in danger if any other bot knew what we are.”

“You would be.” Dreadwing agreed. “If Lord Megatron were to discover your existence, he would send his forces to see you slain, even if it meant razing this island to the ground to do so. Perhaps he would even keep you alive long enough to force Optimus Prime and his team watch your destruction.” He stated, blunt and hard.

Everyone collectively flinched at that, looking sick and horrified at the prospect. Cody could relate. The way Dreadwing discussed such violence and such horrors…it was so casual. He didn’t know what to make of it. The Rescue Bots didn’t speak so bluntly about that sort of thing, but he knew that was due to lack of exposure to that level of violence. Optimus and High Tide were both also very…sanitized, in the way they spoke of the War. It wasn’t necessarily bad that Dreadwing didn’t care to censor himself, but Cody certainly wasn’t used to it. Just the idea of his friends being stolen away and killed to make a point made him sick.

Graham’s voice broke the silence. “Lord Megatron.” he sound, sounding strained. “You called him “Lord Megatron”. I can’t imagine any Autobot calling the leader of their enemy something like “lord”. Which means you’re not an Autobot. You’re a Decepticon.”

There was a second of silence, and then Heatwave surged forward and yanked Cody away from Dreadwing. As one, the Rescue Bots, baring Blades for some reason, lowered the windshields in their chests to let their partners climb in to safety. As for Blades…he just stood, carefully maneuvering Dani out of range of danger and stepping forward before anyone else could do anything. Cody, still dazed and now strapped into Heatwave’s passenger seat, could only watch in confusion.

“Everybody stop and calm down!” The copter snapped, his rotors rattling against his back. The other bots were still, and Dreadwing hadn’t moved from his seat on the floor.

The large bot shifted his gaze to Boulder, or rather, Boulder’s chest where Graham was tucked away. “You are correct.” he said, voice somber. “I am a Decepticon. Or rather, I was. It was Megatron himself who gave me the wound that nearly offlined me.” He paused. “I am afraid I am still teaching myself to shed the loyalty that once bound me to him. I spent many millennia calling him my Lord, and it is a habit that is very difficult to break.” He tilted his head. “Regardless, I assure you I have no desire to return to the Decepticons. I would be destroyed if I were to return.”

That seemed to calm the bots down, and Dani frowned from where Blades had stashed her. “You knew, didn’t you partner?”

Blades sighed. “I suspected.” he admitted. “I read in the data pads that Optimus left for us that after the fall of Vos, most Seekers joined the Deceptions. Dreadwing is a Seeker. I put the pieces together.”

Dreadwing bristled at the mention of “Vos”, though Cody didn’t know what that was. “Vos was destroyed and razed to the ground by Autobot forces, little flyer.” he rumbled. “Seekers did not join the Autobots when the War began because most of those who did were the same who had spent generations abusing and ostracizing any and all flight-frames.” he said bluntly. “It is why most flyers joined the Deceptions. They did not wish to be treated as lesser simply because of a different vehicle mode.”

Dani blinked. “Huh. So bigots exist on all planets, then.” she sighed. “The War…are you saying it started as a social revolution?”

“Just so.” Dreadwing nodded at her. “In the beginning, it was not Optimus Prime who led the Autobots. It was his predecessor, a mech called Sentinel. Sentinel was backed by the Senate. The same Senate that had created laws to force mechs to live only by the function of their frame types, and the same Senate that allowed flight-frames to be treated as filth. When Megatron rose up initially, it was to fight for justice and put an end to the caste system.”

This was news to all the humans. They’d heard about the War, of course, but hearing about how it started and why it had began put new context on things.

“The Senate refused to listen, and thus the War began. Megatron initially led as non-violently as possible, but then any who harbored even slight anti-Senate mentalities began to be culled by Autobot Enforcers. Flyers were confined to the ground by force when not in Vos, and in Vos they were not permitted to leave the city.” The Seeker continued. “What started as a fight for equality turned into Decepticons fighting for their right simply to live. And then the Senate was assassinated, and Sentinel destroyed, and Optimus Prime took his place. By then, it was too late for things to return to peace. Too many Decepticons feared they would be killed for the crime of wanting a better life and fighting for it, and too many Autobots were bitter and angry towards the chaos the Decepticon had wrought. And so, the War continued.” he sighed.

There was silence for a long moment, and the Rescue Bots finally returned to their previous positions, though they didn’t let the humans out just yet. Blades sat on the couch, and Dani shifted over to perch on his shoulder. Everyone present was silent for a moment, taking in what they had been told. This…changed things. Certainly, the Decepticons had done horrible things. The fact that they had slaughtered the Rescue Bots was a prime example. But to learn why they had risen and where they had come from…it put a lot into perspective.

“Blades.” Dani spoke up. “You’re a flyer. Did you run into any of that sort of thing Dreadwing was talking about, before your stasis nap?” she asked.

Blades sputtered. “Well, no.” he seemed embarrassed. “You know I wasn’t always a flyer. I was a ground-frame, on Cybertron. Sure, I’d heard about the anti-flyer and anti-Seeker stuff but I never experienced it. Dreadwing is telling the truth, though. Cybertron…didn’t have the best social system. I did know about the civil unrest, thought it hadn’t grown to a revolution quite yet the last time I was on Cybertron.” he said, sheepish.

Before one of the humans could ask for an elaboration, Dreadwing was straightening up. “Youngling. You mean to tell me you were able to shift from a ground-frame to a flight-frame by scanning a new vehicle mode?”

Blades paused. “Yes?”

Dreadwing was quiet, before uttering what Cody was very sure was a curse. “You do realize that is an extraordinarily rare ability? Even triple changers are more common than that.”

“Really?” Blades, and even all the other bots, seemed stunned by this revelation.

“Yes.” Dreadwing was frowning. “Most Cybertronian t-cogs will only allow for scanning and transformation into a vehicle mode that is compatible with your root mode. To be able to change from a grounder to a flyer by simply scanning a new vehicle mode…it speaks of a highly malleable and adaptable base frame type. The kind one expects from the tales of the Shifters of old.”

That made the Bots perk up, and Cody made a note to ask about that later. For now, he opted to stay quiet and let the Cybertronians figure this out. And it seemed his family had the same idea. Even Kade, for once.

“Are you saying I’m a Shifter?” Blades seemed frantic at the idea.

“No.” Dreadwing shook his head. “But perhaps you have coding descended from them.” He sighed. “Your ability, little one, is one I have only ever heard of on Cybertron. Many would be jealous of you. I know many flyers would not give up their flight for anything, but I know of many more who would have wanted your ability desperately in order to change to a ground-frame and escape the derision.”

Blades blinked, then looked down. “Oh.” he whispered.

Heatwave growled. “Look, it’s all well and good that we’ve figured this out, but now what? You were a Decepticon! You could hurt us or someone else on the island!”

Dreadwing looked unimpressed. “I have no intentions of doing any such thing, though I will leave if you prefer.”

“But won’t Megatron kill you?” Boulder asked.

“He will try. I will simply have to avoid him.”

“Then why not join the Autobots?” Chase asked.

The Seeker’s expression went dark. “No. While Optimus Prime is honorable, the Autobots have not always been such. I have lost too much to their regime to submit myself to the brand, even if it is different now.”

No one seemed to know what to say to that. After a long moment, the humans were finally let out of the cabs of their respective partners, and Cody saw an odd look in his Dad’s eye.

“Hoe about this, then.” Dad said. “We don’t feel right about sending you off where you might be killed. You don’t want to fight the Autobots, you don’t want to fight for the Decepticons. Am I right so far?”

Dreadwing simply bowed his head.

“Do you even want to fight in the War at all, anymore?”

Dreadwing paused. “The Decepticons committed a crime which I must put right. But other than that, no.” There was a pause. “Even with my end goal, it is not the Decepticons at large I wish to see defeated. It is only one mech among their ranks.”

Dad hummed slowly, then nodded. “I’m guessing you’re not ready to tell us the details, so I won’t even ask.” he said. “Here’s what I propose: you stay here on Griffin Rock. You don’t let yourself be seen by the humans here, we do have a cover to maintain after all. You can think and plan your next steps here. That lets us keep an eye on you, and keeps our minds at ease that you’re not out there running for your life from a tyrant. You just can’t destroy anything or hurt anyone or cause trouble.”

Cody was surprised by the offer, and clearly Dreadwing was too. What did his Dad see in this large bot that was making him take a chance like this? Cody wasn’t against it, but it was a little unusual.

Dreadwing seemed to think over the offer, before he nodded. “I will accept your terms.”

Dad relaxed, and before Kade could protest he waved his children along. “Now come on, everyone. It’s late and we humans need our rest.” he said. “Kade, not here. We can discuss this more later. Let’s go, everyone.”

Cody hopped off Heatwave’s knee, and followed his siblings and father to the lift. The last thing he saw before the doors closed was the Rescue Bots turning to their newest addition, and heard the start of a question before the doors shutting cut it off.

“So what else do you know that Optimus isn’t-“

——————————

Everything came to a head a week after Dreadwing had settled into the bunker. The Seeker had taken over one back corner of the large room, converting it into a small space for himself. None of the other bots or humans had raised a fuss at that. But Kade was getting increasingly agitated. It was clear that he didn’t understand why Blades and his team were so calm about letting a Decepticon live peacefully with them. Personally, the copter bot attributed that to the fact that the firefighter was human, so he probably didn’t understand the Cybertronian cultural or societal intricacies that had allowed the five bots to come to an understanding. That day, Kade had been particularly snarly. Even Boulder was starting to get put off by it.

They had gathered in the bunker. Blades was watching TV with Dreadwing and Chase, trying to explain the allure of his favorite show to the two bots. Boulder was painting, and Heatwave was on his little sparring platform. The humans had come down in time to see Dreadwing pinch one of Blade’s finials when the little copter bot’s rotors had straightened and extended, threatening to start spinning right there on his back due to his excitement. It had pulled Blades back to himself, and he’d sheepishly tucked his rotors back along his spinal strut while shooting the older mech an apologetic grin.

To a Cybertronian, such a gesture from an older mech to a youngling would not have raised any attention. The gentle tweak hadn’t even hurt his sensitive finials. But to a human, especially one who didn’t have or understand the context of Cybertronian culture, the gesture and lack of reaction from the bots could easily be misunderstood.

So really, Blades wasn’t surprised that Kade had finally snapped. As soon as he’d seen the interaction, he’d roared a demand to know what was going on, questioning how the bots could live with someone who had been part of the same team that had wiped out all the other Rescue Bots. That was when Chief Burns had sighed and suggested they all get settled in the lounge to talk again. They had, taking up the same positions as the previous time, though this time Boulder also dragged over a large beanbag for himself and Graham, while Dani perched on Blade’s shoulder and Dreadwing took the free spot on the couch. Which was where they were now.

“Alright.” Kade spat. “So I’m not getting something here, obviously. Why are you four so comfortable around him? He literally admitted that he used to be a Decepticon! The same guys that destroyed your Rescue Force!”

“But he wasn’t there.” Blades chimed in. “We talked when you went to bed that night. He joined the ‘Cons after the Autobots destroyed Vos, which happened after the fall of the Rescue Force.”

“And that changes anything?” Kade sputtered.

“It changes everything.” Heatwave grunted. “He wasn’t part of the group that destroyed the Rescue Force. And even though he joined them later, it wasn’t to inflict violence, it was in response to his home and people being destroyed. That may be hard to understand, based on what I know of your human culture, but for us Cybertronians that’s enough.”

Kade crossed his arms, scowling fiercely. “Fine. I guess I can accept that, even if I don’t get it. What I don’t get is why you’d defect.” he directed the last part at Dreadwing. “You hinted last time we talked that you served Megatron for thousands and thousands of years, and joined him because he was fighting for a just cause, one you believed in. What changed?”

Dreadwing frowned, staring hard at the human. “You are correct, Skyquake and I did originally join Megatron because we believed him to be honorable and just.” he tilted his head. “As the War progressed and left Cybertron, Megatron gradually became more…mad. However, we still followed him because we had sworn an oath of loyalty, and to break that oath would be dishonorable.” he rumbled. “And we did not fully agree with the Autobots either, even after Optimus Prime took command.”

“Hold on.” Graham cut in. “Skyquake?”

Dreadwing blinked, and something odd entered his gaze. Blades felt the flash of grief in his EM afield before it abruptly cut off. “Yes. Skyquake. He was my brother. We were split spark twins.”

“I thought you said you guys don’t have families like humans!” Kade said to Heatwave, eyes narrowed.

The fire truck scowled. “We don’t! Not usually! There’s only really one exception, and that’s so rare I didn’t think it mattered!”

“Two exceptions.” Blades intervened quickly. “There’s actually two exceptions, two ways for Cybertronians to have siblings.”

Looks were directed at him, and he squirmed under the attention. Slag, he hadn’t meant to say that. They’d want to know how he knew and that was something he wanted to keep to himself. It was his burden to bare.

Dreadwing sensed his discomfort, cutting in before the questions could start and drawing the attention back to himself. “Yes. The first exception is that of split spark twins.” He glanced at the humans. “We Cybertronians are not created like you organics. On Cybertron, our source of life is called the Well of All Sparks. It is where all sparks are created, and where all sparks return upon deactivation.”

“A spark is like…your soul, right? It’s what gives you guys life and makes you who you are.” Dani questioned.

Dreadwing dipped his helm towards her. “Indeed. When a new Cybertronian comes into be, their spark is created in the Well. It goes through several layers of the Well’s energy, the spark refining and becoming more defined as it progresses to the edge of the Well from the center. Often, the sparks will not maintain their form in this process, and their energy will dissipate and return to the Well.” Noting the human’s looks, he shook his head. “The spark has no life or sentience at that time, it is merely a small collection of energy. It is if the spark holds its form past the final layer of shaping that it gains sentience and life. At that point, the energy of the Well pulls resources from Cybertron itself to create a protoform, a physical body, around the spark. Then, the protoform is pushed from the Well, and thus a new Cybertronian is created.” the Seeker explained.

“That doesn’t explain how you guys can have siblings.” Graham pointed out.

Dreadwing dipped his head. “Twins like myself are a rarity. They occur when, just before a protoform is formed around the spark, a surge of energy from the Well causes the spark to split into two. When that happens, most sparks to not survive and dissipate. If they do survive, the Well forms two protoforms around the two halves. The two halves of the spark can function on their own, and are fully formed in their own right, but due to the fact they were one a singular spark those two halves are forever bound.” he explained it carefully.

“Two halves, one whole.” Graham said, eyes lighting up with understanding.

Dreadwing nodded. “Yes. That is how split spark twins are created. Due to the bond, twins are very close to one another. A spark bond is a precious thing, little human.” His optics went distant, and Blades’s own spark ached with painful remembrance. “Through a spark bond, you are always and forever aware of the one who you share the bond with. You know what they feel, how they think, you know them in every way that they in turn know you. You can talk and communicate using the bond, and it can never be detected or listened in on. Distance can dampen a bond, and the further one gets from those they are bonded to the more muted it becomes. At one point, the bond becomes too muted to talk in words, and you can share only base thoughts and emotions.” he rumbled. “But even so, the bond persists, and it allows you to know your bonded is still living.”

“And…this Skyquake. He’s your twin? Where is he?” Kade asked.

“Gone.” Dreadwing said, his EM field flaring with that sharp agony, and even the humans could hear the grief in his tone. “Offlined before I even arrived on Earth.”

“How did it happen?” Chief asked, voice somber.

Dreadwing stared at him for a long moment, and Blades could see the grief in the angle at which he held his wings, even if he had reigned in his EM field. “Centuries ago, Megatron stationed my brother here in stasis in order to guard over Deception energon deposits. I was aware of his mission, but I was sent to far off star systems to fight in the War.” he sighed. “Recently, Skyquake was awoken, and in an ensuing confrontation with the Autobots he was slain by Optimus Prime and his scout.”

Blades flinched, optics wide. Bumblebee had killed Dreadwing’s twin? He supposed he couldn’t really judge a situation in which he didn’t have all the information, but he still had a hard time imagining the friendly yellow bit he knew actually killing someone else.

“How did you survive?” he blurted out. Looks were directed to him again, confused, but Dreadwing understood.

“Distance.” he rumbled. “I was so far away at from my brother at the time of his death that the bond was too strained for me to even feel his strongest emotions. I could only barely tell he was still living, and even then only when I focused on the link between our shared spark.” His gaze went sad. “I felt his death. The surge of energy that came from the bond breaking did reach me, but by the time it did it had had to travel so great a distance that it had dulled too much to overwhelm and gutter out my own spark. All I felt was a very faint sting. It didn’t even hurt to feel him perish.” he said, and he sounded bitter at it.

Blades could understand. “I’m sorry.” he said honestly.

Dreadwing sighed. “He died an honorable death. For that much, I am grateful.”

Kade cleared his throat, frowning. “Okay.” he said carefully. “But that doesn’t explain why you left the ‘Cons. Shouldn’t you have more reason to stay with the, if the Autobots killed your twin?”

Dreadwing growled lowly here. “No.” he denied. “The Autobots gave my brother a good death, a death I know Skyquake would not have been ashamed of. For all I resent the Autobots from taking my brother from me, it is War, and I cannot find fault in them removing an enemy from the battlefield.” He turned a sharp look to Kade. “It was the Starscream, however, who is a Decepticon, who desecrated my brother’s rest by defiling his corpse and turning him into a Terrorcon.”

Blades inhaled sharply, rage clouding his processor. He seethed, his rotors clamping tight to his spinal strut, his optics going dark and angry, and his hands curling into fists. Dani was the only one to notice, and she didn’t want to draw attention to him just yet.

“Terrorcon? Cody asked.

“A zombie.” Boulder offered, looking sick. Actually, all the bots look sick. “Or the closest equivalent to it there is for Cybertronians.”

And now the humans all looked sick. “Oh.” Kade said. “That’s why you left.”

“Yes.” Dreadwing said darkly. “I learned the truth, and when I attempted to avenge my bother Megatron attempted to destroy me. It did not matter to him that Starscream had attempted to assassinate and betray him on countless occasions. He sought my death in order to protect a known traitor.” he growled. “Starscream turned my brother into something twisted and abhorrent. That is why I left.” he finished.

“I’m surprised you didn’t rip his spark out.” Blades hissed. Stunned gazes turned to the copter, and everyone was alarmed to see just how angry he looked. “I’d have tried to, in your place.”

The only one who wasn’t surprised was Dreadwing. “I did try, and I was almost killed for it. I will avenge Skyquake one day, little one. But for now, calm yourself.”

Blades actually snarled at that. His rotors rattled aggressively, the smaller ones in his pedes whirling to life with a loud buzzing, and his engine all but roared with fury. “Just the idea of someone doing that-!” he cut himself off, snarling again. Dreadwing was quick to pick Dani off the youngling’s shoulder and set her down.

“Blades.” he snapped. The others were too frozen in shock at the sight of the usually bubbly copter so aggressive.

“No!” Blades snapped. “If someone did that to ‘Aid, or Groove, or Streetwise, or Hot Spot, or any of them, I’d rip them apart myself!”

Dreadwing narrowed his optics, his processor working quickly. There was no reason for the youngling to get so upset at the idea of a spark sibling being so badly defiled, no reason for him to take it so personally. And those names…

“You are gestalt, aren’t you, little one?”

That was enough to snap Blades out of his angry haze, and his optics shot wide. Fear swamped his field, and his rotors abruptly silenced and clamped back against his spine while the rotors in his pedes cut off with a sharp grinding noise. “What?”

“Given your reaction, and those names you said….it is the only conclusion that makes sense.”

“Wait, Blades…you’re part of a gestalt?” Boulder asked, his own optics blown wide.

“That…would explain your reaction.” Chase offered hesitantly.

“Blades.” Heatwave prompted at the copter’s continued silence.

“Uh, hello? Clueless humans here!” Dani called. “Blades, put me back up. Also, what’s a gestalt?”

The youngling bent down, allowing his partner to climb her way back up to his shoulder before he sat up. He sagged, looking defeated,

“A gestalt is the other way Cybertronians can have siblings.” he said quietly. “It happens in the Well. Most of the time, the Well creates on spark at a time. Creating a living spark is a complex process, so it can’t afford to create too many at once. Every once in a while though, the Well has an excess of energy, undetectable to any technology. When that happens, it creates multiple sparks at once. If all those sparks survive to the edge of the Well, then the excess energy pulls them together into one large, massive spark. Many sparks, becoming one. They remain combined until the energy stabilizes, and then split into the original number again and that’s when the protoforms are created around the sparks.” He sighed. “When that happens, all the bots in that group are linked. They were created by the Well together, and they were merged together by the Well to bind their sparks. That’s a gestalt. Because of the spark merge that occurred in the Well, gestalt can actually merge themselves again outside of it. They can push together their sparks and processors and very beings to become a singular bot. Gestalt frames are even adapted to that they can physically combine, each member becoming a different body part, in order to form the body of a new, larger mech while their sparks combine to form the mech’s own spark. Many, becoming one.” Blades looked down. “My brothers and I are that. We can combine to form Defensor. I’m the arm.” he said weakly.

——————————

There was a long beat of silence, and then Dani was pressing herself to his face to hug him. “Oh, Blades.” she said, sounding so pained and sad.

Blades felt a hand on his back, and looked up to see Dreadwimg staring at him, a knowing look in his optics. “I’m truly sorry, little one. At least when I was separated from my brother, I could use the bond to tell he still lived.”

Blades could only whimper again, and then his team was gathering around him. Dreadwing stepped back to give them space, and he watched at the small, odd little family came together to comfort the distressed flyer.

Blades just shook, forced to finally confront the reality of the situation. He hadn’t let himself think about it, before now. Now really. But he’d finally been forced to and he wished he hadn’t. He just wanted his brothers back. He missed them. He didn’t protest as Boulder gathered him close, and instead curled in to take the comfort his teammates were offering. Eventually, he exhausted himself, and he slipped into a light recharge, dreaming of days long past.

——————————

Another week passed, and they’d finally contacted Optimus. The Prime had in very brief details explained something about a fight for the restoration of Cybertron, before agreeing to come talk with Dreadwing. They had indeed talked when he’d arrived at the island, and the Prime had agreed with Dreadwing’s continued presence here as long as the Burns agreed, and as long as the Seeker informed him before leaving Griffin Rock. Dreadwing had agreed to those terms, and the Prime had taken his leave once more.

Now, the Seeker was finally fully settled in the little bunker. It wasn’t an impressive space, but he wouldn’t be picky. Currently, it was late night, and the humans were asleep and the younglings in recharge. Or at least, most of them were. The little copter was missing. Dreadwing had noticed how he’d seemed more withdrawn ever since he’d confessed to being gestalt. The Seeker couldn’t blame the poor mechling, not really. So, when he realized the little bot was missing, he only sighed and went to search for him.

He found Blades in the courtyard by the firehouse, sitting on the ground and staring at the stars. He sat himself next to the youngling, frowning. “You should be recharging, little one.”

Blades looked at him, then back up. “I can’t. I keep remembering.” he sounded miserable.

Dreadwinf sighed. “Tell me, then. What is is that scares you more: holding on to hope that your brothers still live, or believing in the chance that they have been offlined?”

Blades flinched. “I don’t know. Both hurt.” he whispered. “Dreadwing, the last thing they ever felt from me was fear. What if they thought I was being hunted and killed like the other off world Rescue Bot teams? I asked Optimus when he was here. I know the Rescue Force massacre happened a only about an orn after we went into stasis.”

Dreadwing stilled, considering. That was a very likely scenario. “I do not know what they thought.” he said honestly. “Perhaps they did believe that. Perhaps they held o to hope that you escaped and searched for you. Perhaps they search for you still. Perhaps they were offlined in the War.” he sighed. “I cannot give you the answers, little one. Cybertron’s children are scattered, and I would not know where to tell you to begin searching, even if I knew for certain they were alive.”

Blades whimpered, and Dreadwing wasn’t surprised when the youngling turned to curl into his side. The Seeker draped an arm over the shaking shoulders and quivering rotors, holding the mechling close as he grieved. He wished he could help Blades more, but the truth was that he couldn’t. No one could. Blades would have to decide how to handle this himself.

As the youngling shook against his side, Dreadwing lifted his own gaze to the stars.

Can you see me, Skyquake? Would you approve of this? I would hope so. These mechlings need proper guidance, and the Prime refuses to give it. Starscream can wait. I hope you can forgive me for making you wait for your vengeance.

Blades hiccuped against him, curling even tighter against his side, and Dreadwing gently petted the trembling rotors. Slowly, the smaller flyer relaxed, until he had eventually slipped into recharge while tucked into the Seeker’s side.

Dreadwing stared at him for a long moment, then left out an breath of a chuckle and turned his gaze back up.

Primus, I’ve gone soft.

———————————————————————————————————

Holy crap it’s done. I finished it. I hope my asker is happy. That was a monster and a half. It was fun to write, and I very much enjoyed it, but dear god was it long. My muse kept screaming ideas at me the whole time. Seriously you have no idea.

Also, can you all tell Blades is my favorite? Can you tell? Because he is. I adore him. I hope you don’t mind that I included the Protectobot Blades idea in. I’ve seen it floating around a few other places before now, so the idea isn’t originally mine, but I really like it and I think it fits with his character, so here we are.

“I’m not little.” Heatwave answered on reflex, mildly indignant. He didn’t understand why the Seeker referred to him and his teammates like that. Well, he supposed he did. They were all little, compared to him. “And…I guess I am.” He looked up at Dreadwing, a hard frown twisting his features.

“So I see.” Dreadwing, for his part, now looked ever so slightly amused. “And what is it what is causing you such distress?”

Heatwave made a frustrated noise, his vocalizer clicking in a sort of nonsense babble as he tried to think of how to explain. “I just–I don’t understand. How could they have done…everything they did?”

“What are you talking about?” Dreadwing asked, confused.

“I read the data lads Optimus and High Tide left! I learned about some of the things the Decepticons did!” he snapped, frustration and anger bleeding into his tone in place of previous confusion. Just the thought of what he’d learned was enough to make his spark sing with rage.

“Ah, now I understand.” The Seeker stated, his gaze becoming solemn and understanding. “And what did you learn, Heatwave?”

“You know what!”

“I do not. Your data pads are Autobot records, youngling. While I have no doubt there is truth there, I am also quite sure that much of that information is highly biased or just pure conjecture.”

The fire truck scowled. “Oh? So the Decepticons didn’t destroy Praxus, which was supposed to be a Neutral city?”

Dreadwing paused. “They did. It was before I joined, but they did.”

“And you’ve probably done a lot too, haven’t you?” He demanded. “Killed a lot of innocent bots, destroyed a lot of lives?” he was angry and hurting and he didn’t understand how Dreadwing could have joined a cause that was so horrible unless he was, as the human say, cut from the same cloth. But he couldn’t be, everything Heatwave had seen from the Seeker since his crash on the island directly conflicted with what the youngling had learned of the Decepticons. It just made him confused and left his spark aching.

The Seeker in question was silent, observing for a moment before he dipped his head. “I have. I have done many, many terrible things. I never killed sparklings or younglings, but I have killed countless Autobot soldiers and slain more than a few Neutral civilians on Megatron’s command.” He said softly. “I have aided in the stripping and destruction of planets, and I have directly contributed to the death of our homeworld. I do not deny any of this. I am not trying to escape my past, Heatwave, or to deny the crimes and atrocities I have committed.”

“Then why did you do them? Why are you here? Why should we let you stay if you’ve done all of that?” He didn’t actually want Dreadwing to leave, and the knew the others would want him to either. But he had just admitted to having committed horrible acts. Heatwave didn’t know what to think.

If the harsh questions bothered him, Dreadwing didn’t show it. “I did what I did because, at the time, I believed I was in the right. You know how Cybertron was in the Golden Age. You know of the emurata, of Functionism, of the caste system and how it was structured. Don’t tell me you don’t.” he said. “I rose from a system that sought to oppress me, and I turned to the only option I saw at the time. The Decepticons. It was wrong, and I have come to realize that.” He paused, tilting his head slightly. “I am here because I have little elsewhere I can go, and because I find myself growing fond of this place. I am here because Primus has granted me a second chance, an opportunity to do better and to be better, and I intend to take it.” Dreadwing took an extra moment to consider the last question. “You likely should not.” he answered. “I cannot change what I have done, all I can do it try to make amends and hope to find redemption one day.” He met the youngling’s gaze evenly. “But I would like to stay, if you would allow me the chance to pursue something better here.”

Heatwave held his gaze, then sagged and looked away. “Fine. I don’t even want you to leave anyway.” he sounded tired. “I won’t make you go. I don’t think I could. The others like you, and so do I. It’d just do more harm than good to everyone involved if I made you leave now.” he glanced up. “Just…tell me why. Why did the Decepticons do all of that? I don’t understand.” he sounded frustrated and helpless.

Dreadwing softened, his wings dipping down just slightly as his frame relaxed. “The Decepticons did not rise from nothing, little one.” he rumbled.

“What do you mean? The data pads said Megatron came out of nowhere and built them up before anyone realized what was going on.” He said, his anger abating in face of his even more confusion.

Dreadwing scoffed. “I am certain that many Autobot’s believe that.” his lips curled faintly, displeased. “That is, however, as far from the truth as you can get.”

“Then why would Autobot data pads contain that information as if it were fact?” he demanded, crossing his arms.

The Seeker hummed, tilting his head. “Perhaps, if you wish to have this discussion in its entirety, it would be best to sit somewhere?”

Heatwave paused, then nodded. “Lounge.” he said gruffly, leading the way. Once there, he dragged over a beanbag chair and settled into it comfortably, leaving the couch to the former Decepticon.

“To begin, I must ask how much you know about the Autobots and Decepticons as a whole, as well as how much you know and understand the political and social climate of the Golden Age.” Dreadwing stated.

Heatwave frowned. “I know what you told us when you first arrived.” he said, tilting his head. “I also know that the Autobot’s end goal is the restoration of Cybertron and the revival of our race. I know the Decepticons want to take control and lead Cybertron by force, and that their end goal is to put ‘Cons in charge and remove lots of freedom from bots under their rule.” he said. He crossed his arms, staring at a point on the floor as he tried to think. “I know that the Senate used to rule Cybertron during the Golden Age, and that they weren’t very fair and a lot of bots suffered, and that some of their regulations and punishments were extreme.” he tilted his head. “I know the caste system made the bots in the lower castes struggle a lot.” he seemed almost ashamed at this point. “I….I never paid the most attention to that, though. I was in the upper-middle caste, and my Function was something I already wanted to do.”

“Rescue work.” Dreadwing guessed.

The firetruck nodded. “Yeah.” he admitted.

“Then you know much of the very basics, though your knowledge lacks in the complexity and finer details of the full scope of the situation.” he rumbled. “You are correct. The Autobots fight for a restored Cybertron. But your knowledge of the Decepticons is…not entirely accurate.”

Heatwave’s engine growled with displeasure as he just grew more helplessly confused. “What?”

“The Decepticons do seek control, and they do seek to rule over Cybertron. That is true. It is also true that their goal is to see to the destruction of the Autobots. But it wasn’t always so.”

“Yeah, you mentioned they started as a social revolution.” Heatwave said, starting to calm down once he realized he’d be getting his answers, and without all the vagueness that came from Optimus whenever he tried to ask the Prime about the War.

“They did. But Megatron not rise from nothing, as the Autobots are so fond of believing. He rose from foundations that were already very deeply rooted. Functionism was a plague and the caste system was a rot that had sunk deep into the very core of our world.” he said, voice soft and somber. “It was a rot that infected only the oppressed and the beaten; it affected the lower castes and the undesirables, and those who lived comfortably in the higher castes did not feel the affects of it.”

“Undesirables?” Heatwave echoed, confused.

“Bots who did not fit into the world the Senate wished to portray. They wanted a Cybertron where every bot had a singular Function and operated according to that Function and ONLY according to that Function. They wanted a world where all those who were not of the Senate were subservient to them and obeyed them without question. They wanted a world that operated under the beliefs and celebrations and social structure they approved of. Those who did not fit into that world, and who could not fit into that world, were deemed undesirable.” He cast the youngling a meaningful look. “For the Senate, that included flight-frames. It is why they were so eager to see the spread of anti-flyer sentiments, to confine flyers, whether they were Seekers or not, to a single city. Flight-frames have a different base coding to ground-frames, and the Senate were all ground-frames. In their optics, flight-frames were a danger to their rule because flyers, by the nature of our frames, do not fit seamlessly into a Functionist society.” he paused. “It certainly did not help that the social structure, belief system, and cultural behavior of flight-frames was radically different to that of ground-frames, and that it was radically different to what the Senate was trying to enforce.”

Heatwave was silent for a long moment, considering what he was told. “But…you said the caste system was a rot. What did you mean?”

Dreadwing hummed, his fingers tapping a pattern on the couch; it was a very human gesture, one he had picked up from the Burnses without even realizing it. He had to word this carefully. Not because he wanted to manipulate the younger bot, but because it was a complex situation and a rather unpleasant one. “You said we’re were of the upper-middle caste.” he said carefully. “And that fits with your frame type and your Function. But have you never thought about the types of bots that fill each level of the caste system?” he asked.

Heatwave furrowed his optical ridges, shaking his helm. “No…” he said slowly. “I know…I know artists were considered among the lowest tier of the high castes. I know scientists and medics were high caste, and that the only bots above them were politicians.” he said.

Dreadwing smiled faintly. The young bot was starting to understand on his own. “Indeed. But those bots only made up a minority of Cybertron’s population. What of the others? What of the common laborers?”

“You mean, like, cleaners and construction bots? You’re right, they were more common than scientists, medics, or artists.” he said. “Like Boulder. He was originally a construction bot.”

He nodded. “They were indeed more common. But what caste did the Senate assign to them?”

“The…the lower caste.” Understanding was starting to bloom in Heatwave’s optics. “The lowest caste, for most of the laborer frames.” he realized. “That means…Boulder was from the lower castes.”

Dreadwing hummed agreement. “He was. If you wish to know more, then you shall have to ask him yourself. It is not my place to tell you what he experienced.” He sighed heavily. “But I will tell you that the lower castes, the bots who made up the majority of our people, did not often lead pleasant lives. They received little pay for their work, could not often afford decent fuel, if they could afford any fuel, and most of their pay would have to go to maintaining their living space. It oft left them overtired, overworked, and very, very hungry. It did not help that many of them had dangerous Functions, dangerous jobs, and after paying for their living quarters and fuel, they did not have the shanix for medical care. It meant the lower castes were forced to choose between their need for fuel and their health.”

Heatwave swallowed, his optics blown wide. “Oh.” he whispered. “But…why didn’t they do anything?”

Dreadwing looked almost melancholic at his question. “Most of the lower castes simply did not have the time or energy to fight against it. They were too tired, too hungry, to injured or sick, and were forced to focus purely on their own survival.” he stated. “And those few that did try to speak up…” he trailed off. “The Senate was not kind to dissenters, little one. If they did not use empurata on those who protested their systems, they used other means of punishment and silencing.” his tone was grim.

Heatwave chose not to ask what those “other means” were. He had a feeling he didn’t want to know. “It…it was really that bad?”

The Seeker bowed his helm. “Ask Boulder or Blades. They would know the best of your teammates.” Though, he had his suspicions about the means of Chase’s creation, and if he was right then the police bot might also know how bad the Senate could be.

“Boulder, I get. But why Blades?”

“The little flyer once told me that one of his brothers was a flight-frame. He would not have experienced the cruelty directly, as he was a ground-frame on Cybertron, but he would doubtless have experienced or seen it through his brother.”

“Oh.” Heatwave was starting to get the feeling that he didn’t know as much about his team as he thought he did. He really needed to fix that. “I guess I understand why the Decepticons rose to quickly then, if things were really that bad for so long.”

“Indeed.” Dreadwing agreed. “But there is one more thing you must understand.”

“Which is?” Heatwave was feeling a little sick to his tanks. He hadn’t been aware the situation on Cybertron had been so bad, but then again, he’d lived a good life. He’d had all the fuel he needed, he never worried about his health or safety, his living situation was pretty much always assured, and he actually enjoyed working according to his Function. He wouldn’t have experienced the rot Dreadwing mentioned, so it only made sense he wasn’t entirely aware of it. That didn’t get rid of the guilt, though.

“The Decepticons are made up almost entirely of flight-frames and those of lower castes. There are certainly some of those among Autobot forces, but the grand majority of them are Decepticon.” Dreadwing pinned Heatwave under a severe look. “What does that tell you, little one?”

“It tells me that the Autobots are mostly ground-frames and bots from the middle and upper castes.” he answered, suddenly understanding the War in a whole new light. It certainly didn’t excuse what the Decepticons had done, but now this…this made it a lot easier to understand.

“Indeed.” he agreed. “The Decepticons originally rose on the backs of bots who were beaten down and had little else to lose, bots whose only crime was to want a better life.” he said. “When the Senate, and later the original Autobots before Optimus Prime, attempted to beat them back down to their “proper place”, they fought back for the freedom that should have always been theirs.” His gaze went distant, as if remembering something from long ago. “The Decepticons were originally a freedom movement, little one. It was only as time wore on and the spilled energon between the factions soured that they lost their way and forget their original mission.”

“And now?”

“Now, because so many Autobots are ground-frame or originated from the higher castes, they do not understand why their enemy continue to fight. Certainly, many Decepticons fight because they wish to destroy the Autobots, but there are many, many more who only fight because they fear that an Autobot victory means a return to the ways of the Golden Age. It is something that Prime and his bots simply do not, and perhaps never will, understand.”

“So most of the Autobots…they weren’t bots who were hurt by the Senate.”

“No.” Dreadwing agreed. “Prime’s team on Earth is a good example. Prime himself is formerly of the lower-high caste, as he was a former Archivist. His scout was upper-middle caste, and while he was too young to receive his Function at the start of the War he would very easily have made a successful racer. The femme-bot was an Enforcer, also considered upper-middle caste. And of course, the medic. Ratchet was famed, even before the War.” The Seeker smiled sardonically. “He was quite firmly in the highest castes. All of them operated according to their Function, and all of them were content with it.” He tilted his head. “The only bot on Prime’s own team who does not fit that mold is his Wrecker, who was once a construction bot. He is the only one who might truly understand.”

Heatwave nodded, looking own at his lap. “I think I get it now. This war…it’s not going to end until the Autobots understand that stuff, is it? Because they won’t understand why most of the Decepticons keep fighting, why they started fighting in the first place.” he said, looking up to meet red optics.

“Yes. You’re very intelligent, little one. You learn fast.” Dreadwing slumped slightly, releasing a heavy vent. “You are correct. So long as the Autobots do not understand, then the Decepticons, at least those who only fight out of a fear of a return to the old ways, will never stop what they are doing.”

“You really know a lot about this stuff.”

“I am a Seeker, Heatwave. I experienced much of the Senate’s cruelty directly, as did most of my frame-kin.”

The Rescue Bot nodded, subdued. Now he understood. A part of him wished he didn’t, but he was glad he did. He sighed, meeting Dreadwing’s gaze again. “I think I owe you an apology, then. I judged you based on incomplete information.”

Dreadwing bowed his helm. “Thank you, little one. As I said, I certainly committed horrible acts, and I can never undo what I have done, but now I only make to make amends as I move forward.”

Heatwave nodded, smirking and straightening up. “I think you can. And lucky for you, we’re here to help.” he said.

Dreadwing blinked, before he chuckled, his wings lifting as the mood brightened. “So you are. Thank you, youngling.”

“We’re Rescue Bots.” Heatwave grinned. “Helping others is what we do.”

“So it is.” He agreed, looking amused. “And perhaps, I can also help you?”

He blinked, taken aback. “Me? How?”

“I have noticed you practicing with your sparring post. Your form is acceptable, and I am aware that the Rescue Force trained its Teams to have combat abilities, but I can help you improve. Your current skills will help you fight if a rescue mission were to go wrong, but if you wish, then I can help expand and improve your combat capability even beyond that.”

Heatwave blinked. “You’ll teach me how to fight.” he stated.

“I would be glad to, if you wish to learn. There may come a day when you must fight a true enemy, and if that day comes then greater combat skill may be helpful.” Dreadwing pointed out.

Heatwave narrowed his optics, considering the unsaid implications of that statement. “…you think the War might come to us.”

“Perhaps.” he said grimly. “I pray that it does not, but in the event it does I think it is better that you are prepared to fight against an enemy who truly wishes to see your spark go out.”

He nodded, gaze firming. The others would need lessons too, in that case. The Rescue Force did teach them all basic combat, in the event that they needed to fight off anything that might be threatening whoever or whatever they were rescuing, but their combat training had been pretty basic. If Dreadwing was right, and there was a possibility of Sigma-17 one day facing an opponent that wanted them dead, then they’d need to shape up. He stood, hands curling into fists as his shoulders lifted and determination burned in his spark. He stared the Seeker in the optics.

“Let’s do it.”

Dreadwing stood, a faint smile curling at his lips, and clapped a hand on the youngling’s shoulder. “I look forward to it.” he said, a hint of pride in his tone. Heatwave was so very young, but already he was shaping up to be a fine mech, a fine leader.

Heatwave himself only grinned, blue optics bright. “So do I.”

He’d learned a lot today. Not all of it had been pleasant, and a distinctly unpleasant feeling still curled in his tanks, but he was glad to learn what he had. The past was dark and violent, he’d come to realize. Cybertron’s history was steeped in shadows and darkness and Heatwave was certain that he still didn’t know everything, that Dreadwing had certainly omitted many of the worst of the details. Given all that, he really couldn’t find it in himself to be surprised that the War had happened.

Now though, wasn’t the time to focus on the past. Not Cybertron’s past, and not on Dreadwing’s past either. He tilted his helm up to turn his grin on the larger bot, leaning his weight into the hand on his shoulder and enjoying the small physical contact. Yes, he decided. Dreadwing’s past didn’t matter, not here. All that mattered was what was to come, and Heatwave was determined to meet whatever the future held for them head on.

For himself, and for his newfound family — all of them, even its newest addition.

———————————————————————————————————

Here it is, folks! The next installment in “of moments in life”! This one goes a little deeper into Pre-War Cybertron’s social/political climate. Heatwave got a massive reality check. He was sorta privileged, by the standards of the Golden Age, and he’s being forced to realize what that meant and what it blinded him to. Poor youngling, his entire worldview just got rocked.

As for Dreadwing, he now has another son! The next installment will be tHe Blades and Dreadwing one. It’s gonna be sad. They’re gonna talk about their brothers. That’s all I’ll say! I have prompts fo write for before I can get to it, so it’ll be a bit, but stay tuned, it’ll come out! Anyway, hope y’all liked it! Let me know your thoughts!

Boulder only smiled, shaking his helm. “It’s no big deal.” he assured. “Part is the artistic process is making mistakes and having to start over. I did it a lot, in the beginning.” He glanced at the canvas, tilting his helm. “But that doesn’t mean every mistake requires you to start over from scratch. That’s the great thing about painting.” he remarked distractedly, tilting his helm in the other direction. “Sometimes, a mistake can be turned into something new, maybe even something better.” he narrowed his optics, then they lit up with a realization. “Sometimes,” he repeated. “All you need,” he reached out, then turned the canvas around so what had once been the flower field was now at the top of the painting. “Is a new perspective.”

When he glanced back, Dreadwing didn’t seem to understand. Boulder smiled. “Let me show you.”

He picked up his paintbrush again, then lifted it and in a few short strokes he added to the stripe that sliced through the picture he’d been painting. He changed colors, adding some more careful strokes around that, and stepped back. It would need refining, but the shape and idea of what he was going for were there.

“See? It’s a feather in the sunset, now.”

Dreadwing only blinked. “I suppose, though I’m afraid I do not much understand art. I always preferred to read data pads and learn about various fields of study.” There was a pause. “Skyquake enjoyed art.” It was a quiet addition.

Boulder found his smile softening. “Yeah? You’ll have to tell me about it sometime.” he encouraged. He glanced at his canvas. “I like art. There’s no set way to do it and there’s not much penalty for making mistakes. It’s nice.”

The Seeker hummed. “Do you believe most mistakes can be fixed with a new perspective?”

Boulder blinked, frowning. There was something off in Dreadwing’s tone. The others might not pick up on it, but he was good with other bots. He always had been. “…this isn’t just about painting anymore, is it?”

Dreadwing startled, surprise making his field flare. “You are far more perceptive than your teammates.” he said after a moment.

Blades smiled, turning to fully face the flyer. “Blades gets too anxious and wrapped up in his own helm to really pick up on more subtle emotions, Chase can barley understand the complexities of his own feelings, let those of alone others, and Heatwave is too proud and headstrong to really know what to look for. They’re all good bots, and I care about them a lot, but they aren’t the most..”. he searched for the right word. “Emotionally intelligent. Blades can read others really well when he isn’t swept up in his worries, but the other two are a bit hopeless.” He wasn’t saying it to be mean or to criticize. It was just the way his friends were wired, he knew. They were naturally better than him at a lot of other things. It was just how things were.

Dreadwing nodded, acknowledging his words. “You are correct. It is not just about painting. But it is my burden to bare, and I will not trouble you with my struggles.”

Boulder chuckled. “Well that’s a bad idea.” he said lightly. “You’ve already helped us a lot. Chase told the team what you did for him. We’ve all seen what you’ve done for Blades. Why don’t you let us help too? You’re one of us now, it’s gotta be about give and take.”

Dreadwing stared. “Wise words for one so young.” he sighed. “Very well, I will share my thoughts.” he vented harshly, then stared intently at the painting Boulder had been working on. “My mistakes are many, and brutal, and not nearly as neat or benign as a misplaced streak of paint. I suppose I merely cannot see how a new perspective would fix them.” he said after a moment.

Boulder was quiet, before he lifted his gaze. “Can I offer my thoughts?” At Dreadwing’s nod, he continued. “You’ve made a lot of mistakes. You’ve done a lot of terrible things. I don’t doubt that. And I know there are a lot of Autobots who would want to see you pay for those mistakes.” he tilted his helm. “I don’t know the full scope of the War. I don’t know everything you’ve done. But I do know how bad off Cybertron was before we left it.” The Seeker shot him a startled look, and he smiled a little sadly,

“I didn’t join the Rescue Force just because I wanted to help others, Dreadwing. In fact, in the beginning, my motives were entirely selfish.” he explained. “When I got to the age where I’d be expected to work, I was told that my first shift would be at a construction site in Kaon. It scared me. I knew how dangerous construction work was and I knew that even if it didn’t kill me it would kill my spark to be forced into something I hated so much. The only escape, the only chance I had at something different, was the Rescue Force. So I signed up to the Academy, and the day I got in was the day I escaped what I would have suffered through otherwise. The others may not have been as aware of just how bad things were, but…I was from the lower castes, Dreadwing. I knew.” he said quietly.

The Seeker was surprised, his optics wide. He saw how Boulder gradually shrunk in on himself as he spoke, and it made something unpleasant twist in him. The bulldozer was usually more at ease and bright, it didn’t suit him to look so…defeated. After a moment of thought, he put a hand on Boulder’s back and stepped closer. He knew Chase would not want more than this, but Blades preferred hugs as his method of comfort. Dreadwing didn’t know what the little green bot preferred so he wanted to play it safe. His bid seemed to pay off, because Boulder shot him a faint smile.

“What I’m getting at is, I know how bad off Cybertron really was. So even if I don’t know your exact circumstance, I do have an idea of what might have pushed you over the edge. I did originally come from Nyon, after all. Granted, I came from one of its nicer quadrants, but…it was still Nyon.” Boulder sighed. Nyon, at one time, had been the cultural and religious center of Cybertron, rivaling Praxus in beauty and grandeur. But under Zeta Prime, Sentinel’s predecessor, it had fallen into near-total ruin. “You made mistakes, and some bad choices, but you only did it in the end when you were backed into a corner and had nowhere else to go. Your choice was the only one you had that would let you remain alive, and that was wrong. No one should have to choose between death and living life serving a tyrant.”

Dreadwing hadn’t explicitly said any of this, of course. But Boulder was perceptive, like the Seeker himself had said. He’d read between the lines. He had understood what Dreadwing hadn’t been saying. It was one of the reasons he’d so quickly accepted the large bot as a new fixture in their lives. In his optics, this was Dreadwing’s chance at a life he should have had to begin with.

“That doesn’t change what you did, but it adds context. And given that the War destroyed Cybertron and decimated our people…” Which had been another thing Optimus had opted not to tell them. Dreadwing had had to share that particular tidbit. “Well, the War has to end someday, and if it ends in Autobot victory then we can’t afford to lock up every ‘Con. I don’t think there’s enough Cybertronians left for that.”

He realized he hadn’t yet gotten around to answering Dreadwing’s statement, and embarrassment flushed through him. “You made mistakes. That’s true. But context adds perspective. And you have a chance here to prove to anyone in the future who would want to hold your past against you that you can do better. Griffin Rock is your trial run. Heal, relearn how to live without War, and make amends while you’re here. Then, when everything comes to an end and the dust settles, it’ll be a lot harder for people to say that you never tried to make things right or that you’re unwilling to change.” he looked up to meet Dreadwing’s gaze. “Prove to yourself that you can be better than who you used to be, and when the time comes for you to face your mistakes, everyone will see that you have what it takes to make it right.”

Dreadwing was frozen, and Boulder found himself smiling at the hints of shock in his field and gaze. “I…had not considered those points.” the Seeker admitted after a long minute.

Boulder chuckled. “New perspective, remember? I just so happened to be able to provide it. That’s part of the benefit of letting yourself trust and rely on others.”

The flyer shot him an indecipherable look, and nodded. “Thank you for reminding me of that, young one. I have not been able to put such faith in another since I last saw my brother. It is good to be reminded that I do not have to handle my burdens alone.”

Boulder beamed, nodding. His somber mood was seemingly forgotten and he gestured to his painting. “Glad I could help! Now, if you don’t mind, I have sudden inspiration for this and I’d like to finish it.” he said, stepping towards the canvas.

Dreadwing let his hand drop, head tilting. “May I watch?” At Boulder’s nod, he settled on a nearby crate and watched the bulldozer work. It was oddly soothing, seeing the colors go down on the canvas, watching the patterns and shapes form into a familiar image. Into…a very familiar image.

After Boulder finished the sunset and feather, he had begun painting…the Rescue Force Headquarters. And Dreadwing picked up the longing and melancholy in the youngling’s EM field. The Seeker’s spark ached at the bulldozer’s visible grief, and he frowned. So Boulder hadn’t so easily shrugged off his earlier memories of home and his life on Cybertron. Dreadwing was not surprised to see him painting the Rescue Force HQ. From what the youngling had said, it would have been the first place he was truly free of the shackles that had threatened to bind him.

Dreadwing said nothing until Boulder finished and stepped back, and it seemed he hadn’t realized what he’d been painting until then, because when he took in the whole painting his only reaction was to let out a quiet, surprised “Oh.”

Dreadwing stepped closer, letting his own field nudge at Boulder’s, and upon finding no protest he let it curl around the youngling. Boulder’s vocalizer clicked and reset itself before he was able to speak. “I hadn’t realized…”

Dreadwing hummed softly. “You miss it.” he could tell in the aching and longing that all but swamped the bulldozer.

“I don’t know why. Like I told you, I didn’t have the happiest beginnings back on Cybertron. But I still miss it. All of it, not just the Rescue Force. Nyon, too.” he said in a whisper.

Dreadwing put a hand on his back, keeping his field soft and soothing. “It is only logical. It was your home. It shaped you and created the foundation for who you are. And I doubt all of your young life was horrible. You said you came from the better areas of Nyon.”

Boulder nodded. “Yeah.” he admitted. “The All Spark Day celebrations were always amazing. And the bots were great. We all had the same origins and the same troubles so we all just…came together. We were…like a community.” he said softly. “We all took care of each other and helped each other and even if the city wasn’t always the best, the neighborhood we lived in was actually alright, for Nyon anyway. I never starved, even if I didn’t always have the best fuel. My life wasn’t great, but…it wasn’t horrible either. I miss all the good things.”

Dreadwing bowed his head. He couldn’t fully relate. He had had no such struggles in Vos, at least not until the Senate had banned any from leaving the city, but he could understand the longing. “Cybertron is dead, but it’s children are not. And hope for our home is not gone either. Perhaps one day there will be a way to return, and even if not, we still live. Once this War ends, it will be possible to keep the life of Cybertron’s heart and culture alive, even if the planet itself cannot be repaired.” he said softly. “You did not get to know Cybertron’s death as the rest of us did, for we knew our home was dying with each day the War dragged on. We had time to come to terms with the loss. You were forced to be confronted with it in a single, harsh day. The rest of us lost Cybertron in pieces, and you lost it all at once. The loss is harder on you than it ever was on me, or any other Cybertronian involved in the War.”

He paused to let the youngling take in all he was saying, the hand on his back smoothing up and down his tightly clamped armor plating. His tone gentled. “I cannot give you back your home, and I know that reminding you of your new home here on Earth will not make the ache go away. So I will only say this: grieve as much as you want for what you lost. Mourn what you were not able to have and the things you will never get back. If you deny yourself that much, you hurt only yourself.”

Boulder was shaking faintly, his frame just a few degrees too warm from the overwhelming force of the grief was processor was buckling under, and his optics threatening to leak cooling fluid in response. He turned a wide, shining look on to the Seeker. His field probed at Dreadwing’s as if asking for comfort, and his vocalizer clicked and reset itself before he actually was able to speak. “…Blades said you give good hugs.” he said quietly, his field holding the softest undercurrent of hope.

Dreadwing only hummed, gaze softening. So that was Boulder’s preferred form of comfort. He nodded, then wrapped his arms around the shaking youngling and pulled him close to his chest.

As Boulder trembled and let himself finally mourn the loss of his home, he found only one thought on his mind.

‘He really does give good hugs.’

———————————————————————————————————

And here’s the next installment in the “of moments in life” AU! I hope everyone liked it! This was fun! I have so much inspiration for this AU you have no idea.

Boulder is the most well adjusted of all the Rescue Bots. That’s why I figured he’d be the best one to help Dreadwing with his own issues. But, even then, he’s still just a kid! A kid who woke up out of a very long nap to learn that his planet is dead and everything he’s ever known has been destroyed. He hid it well, but that shook him hard.

Dreadwing now has THREE children! All he needs now to complete the set is the fire truck! He also needs proper one-on-one bonding time with his helicopter child because their first real binding experience was with everyone watching. So there is that!

Again, he knew what protocol would dictate about the Seeker’s circumstance. A jail cell until a trial could be held. But every time he tried to think of that idea, his spark ached and protested it, and he didn’t know why. It just…didn’t feel right. Dreadwing had done horrible things in the name of the Deception cause. He knew this. The Seeker had even admitted as such. Yet….he didn’t want to go see him punished either. He knew why the flyer had done the things he had. He didn’t understand, not truly, but his reasons had been just, even if his actions had not been. And given what Chase had learned of his Dreadwing and others like him had suffered when they hadn’t been under the Decepticon banner, well. Chase couldn’t see himself demanding recompense. It was hard to. Dreadwing was not a saint, he knew that. But…he wasn’t some violent, sparkles monster either.

“Hello, little one.” The Seeker’s deep rumble tore him from any further spiraling. “You seem troubled.”

Chase opened his mouth to deny it, but his vocalizer faded to static. It clicked as he forced it to reset, the Cybertronian equivalent of clearing one’s throat, and he sagged. “Perhaps.” he agreed.

He thought again of his confusion, and his processor all but screamed with discontent as it struggled to make sense of the data it had been given. He didn’t know who he could talk to about this. None of his teammates were as stringent about rules as he was, and he doubted the humans could grasp out protocol and regulations were practically a part of Chase’s core coding. They weren’t Cybertronian, after all.

Except…

Except Dreadwing had been a high ranking officer in a structured military for longer than modern human civilization has existed. He, of all those Chase could talk to, was the most likely to understand. But could he? The Seeker had once been a Decepticon, so would be even be willing to help?

His mind flashed to Blades, and the way the copter’s rotors had been happily fluttering as he told the team how Dreadwing and he had swapped stories of their brothers, and how the older flyer had taken the younger bot to the back of the island at night for in depth flight lessons. Dreadwing had been a Deception once, true. But he seemed more than willing to help Blades, and Chase found himself praying that that odd fondness wasn’t just for the copter bot.

“Dreadwing.” he straightened his spinal strut, meeting that red gaze head on. “If you would be willing, I would require your advice. There is a matter that is causing me severe distress and my processor is unable to understand the data I have gathered on the topic.”

Dreadwing simply stared at him for a moment, his right wing twitching in a gesture that Chase didn’t know how to interpret. He knew flyers were capable of communicating with their flight appendages. It was why Dreadwing was so attentive to every movement of Blades’s rotors. But he was no flyer, and he didn’t know what that twitch meant.

Thankfully, Dreadwing quickly seemed to realize this, because he instead dipped his helm. “I would be most amenable to help, little one. Perhaps you would prefer to sit somewhere comfortable? I sense this will not be a short discussion.”

Chase nodded his agreement, quickly leading the way to the lounge. He pulled over one of the bot sized beanbags for himself, settling into it comfortably while Dreadwing took a seat on the couch. After a moment of organizing his thoughts, he lifted his gaze. “I am struggling with my core beliefs and understanding whether or not they may be wrong.”

Dreadwing tipped his helm to the side. “I see.” he hummed.

Chase figured he likely would. The Seeker had had to recently shift his entire worldview of where his loyalties lay, after all. “I…have built my understanding of the world and my surroundings on rules. There are rules to everything, I have learned. Not just the laws that govern society, but strict rules of how certain things operate and function within the world. The rules of organic reproduction, for example, or the rules that bind Earth to a cycle of different seasons. These are all set rules that do not break.”

The Seeker hummed. “So I see. Then here does your issue lie?”

“I….” he trailed off, then reset his vocalizer. “Chief Burns consistently lets the people of Griffin Rock off with lesser punishments than he should, if he were following the laws of his society. Just this morning, when he should have given Mr.Harrison a much harsher penalty for once again causing a mass public disturbance, he let him off with merely a word of warning.” The cop bot sounded frustrated. “And there is also…” He looked down. “You. Protocol dictates you should be locked within a cell until such time you can stand trial. But I find myself disliking that idea and I have no desire or intention of actually following through on it. I am aware you have done horrible things in the past, yet my spark insists that you can be given a better chance to make amends here and with your freedom than locked away in a jail cell.” he finished, frustrated and angry with his own lack of understanding.

To his credit, Dreadwing let him finish before he spoke. “I believe I understand now.” he stared hard at the smaller bot. “Rules are important. You are correct about that. In a well functioning, proper society, rules create the pillar upon which order is maintained.”

Chase made a frustrated noise. “Then why-“

Dreadwing cut him off. “However. In such societies, there is also often a deep sense of community. That means there is an understanding among all those within that society that some of the rules that establish their land are more important than others. Vos operated under such a system. The Senate despised us for it, as it meant there were instances in which Vos’s children did not fit into the societal rules they had set for the rest of Cybertron.”

Chase blinked. “But what does that have to do with it?”

“In such a society, where some rules are deemed less important, it is also generally understood that if one breaks those rules they may not necessarily have to face the punishment written by the law as long as no one was harmed. Take speeding, for example. I know one of the citizens on this island does so consistently, and yet Chief Burns only ever gives him a single ticket.”

Chase jerked. “How did you-“

“You rant about that specific man very often, Chase.” the Seeker said dryly. “Now, in that instance, the Chief is in the right. He could ticket the human more, he could jail him for the night, but that would not help matters. Perhaps it would stop him, but it would also build a sense of resentment.”

Chase crossed his arms. “What does that matter?”

“It matters quite a bit.” Dreadwing sighed. “In a society built on a sense of community, like Vos was and like Griffin Rock is, it is not lack of total and complete order that causes things to crack. It is resentment. Vos, this island, they were, and are, both built on the backs of their children’s’ respect and regard for one another. Once that respect and regard is lost, so to are the foundations that make Griffin Rock a community.” he explained.

Chase blinked. “Chief…does not penalize the citizens of the island more harshly because they are a community?”

Dreadwing hummed. “Precisely.” he agreed. “Without the proper community, it would not truly be Griffin Rock. As such, the people of the island have an unspoken understanding that, so long as no one is harmed when something goes wrong or when someone breaks a rule, then it does no harm to let them off with a lesser punishment.”

“Or even no punishment at all?”

“Or even no punishment at all.” Dreadwing seemed pleased that Chase was starting to understand. “As for the second half of your concerns…I do understand that as well. You are correct. Any legal system would demand my incarceration. However, one must also look at the specific circumstances.” he leaned back. “I cannot tell you how you should think on the matters of my crimes and the penalties I should face. That is not a decision that is mine to make.”

Chase blinked, then sagged and nodded. “I know. And the fact that you are not trying to sway my opinion says much more about your willingness to make things right than any long term imprisonment could, I believe.”

Dreadwing chuckled. “Thank you, little one. I will do my best not to misplace your faith. Primus saw fit to gift me a second chance and the opportunity to make amends. I will still avenge my brother one day, but I will not squander what I have been given here.”

Chase smiled despite himself. “Good.” Then his expression dropped a little, and he looked down. “What about in societies that are not built on community? Are rules not important there?”

Dreadwing tilted his helm. “Hm.” he narrowed red optics. “That is a more complicated matter. If the society functions and all within it are content, then yes, I suppose the rules would be important. But that is not often the case. Before the War, Cybertron functioned under strict rules, but it was in fact those same rules that caused so much suffering.”

Chase looked at the Seeker in confusion. “I…was aware of the discontent. I knew the lower castes were struggling. But how bad was it exactly?”

Dreadwing tilted his helm up. “The root of the problems lay in Functionism itself, little one. It was a plague. The Rescue Force, by some odd miracle, was not affected by Functionism. They believed that as long as a Bot was willing to train, then any frame-type could be used in rescues, as there was not only one kind of rescue and some would require unorthodox frame abilities.” the Seeker sighed heavily. “However, the rest of Cybertron was not so lucky.” Fingers drummed against the couch, and the Seeker was silent as he considered his next words. “Your teammate, the little bulldozer? Had he not been a Rescue Bot, then the rules of Functionism would have forced him to be a construction worker, whether he wished it or not. And if he did not bend to his function, then the Senate would have punished him severely and they would have been allowed by law to do so.”

Chase went still, optics wide. He couldn’t imagine that happening to Boulder. He knew what sort of punishment Dreadwing was talking about. Anything from jail to…empurata. He shuddered as the thought crossed his processor. He couldn’t imagine Boulder, warm, soft-sparked Boulder forced to bare the markers of empurata. That penalty was too much. Even he had been aware of that much of the Senate’s darkness, even if he hadn’t understood how bad it had truly been.

“I….see.” he whispered.

And he was starting to. Rules had defined his life up unto now, but…his life had dramatically changed, and so had to the rules that defined it. Perhaps it was time he changed his own understanding of rules as well. He looked up to meet Dreadwing’s gaze, standing up from his beanbag. “I…thank you, Dreadwing.” he said gratefully. “I do not understand fully, but I believe I will eventually. You have given me much to think about. Your advise….it was much appreciated.”

Dreadwing too, stood. He nodded at the littler bot, and Chase found his spark was starting to hammer at the thought that this, whatever is was, was going to end. “Movie!” he blurted.

At Dreadwing’s confused stare, he reset his vocalizer. “I would like to share something of mine with you, now that you’ve shared your advice with me. If you’d be open to it. Blades has shown you his favorite Earth entertainment, and if you would not be opposed than I would like to show you mine.” he said, and despite himself he couldn’t keep the hopeful note from his voice.

Dreadwing seemed to catch on to his true intentions, because the Seeker had a knowing glint in his optics. There was a brief silence as the flyer considered, then his helm dipped in acquiescence. “I would be interested in seeing what it is that garners your enjoyment, young one.” he agreed, retaking his seat on one end of the couch.

Chase relaxed, and was quick to set up the movie and grab the remote. It was the first movie in his favorite series of detective films. This series wasn’t quite as silly as some of the others, and some of the crimes were genuinely thought provoking. Chase was hoping Dreadwing would appreciate the moral complexity. He moved to the beanbag as the movie started up, and paused to glance at the empty space next to Dreadwing. After only a moment of hesitation, he pulled the beanbag to the nook where it was usually kept with the others like it, then went to take the empty seat on the couch. Dreadwing only shot him a glance, but did nothing else before returning his attention to the film.

After the movie had progressed, Chase felt his frame shift slightly, instinctively seeking out the warmth and closeness of the larger frame by his side. His shoulder pressed into Dreadwing’s arm, and when he realized what he’d done he tensed and made to pull away. Only…Dreadwing didn’t seem to mind. In fact, the large Seeker only shifted his position, freeing up space for Chase to rest more comfortably against his side. After a second’s thought, the police bot did so, tucking in against the larger Cybertronian and enjoying the quiet closeness. Cybertronians were a social species after all, and physical touch was just as important to them as it was to the humans.

Dreadwing didn’t drape his arm around the youngling, as he did whenever Blades burrowed in close to him. He seemed to understand that it would make Chase more uncomfortable than relaxed, because he simply kept it tucked back so that Chase was leaning back on it as he curled into the Seeker’s side.

The movie progressed, and Chase found his processor settling more and more as time went on. Eventually, the usually loud data processing that flowed through his mind quieted to a gentle buzz, and he felt himself relaxing against the frame of the older Cybertronian he’d tucked himself into. He still had a lot he had to figure out, but now he was more certain of one thing.

He would enjoy having Dreadwing around. The Seeker wasn’t quite so bad, after all.

In fact, Chase thought, frame and processor at peace with each other for the first time since Sigma-17 had departed Cybertron on that fateful mission. In fact, I think I truly do enjoy having him here. He feels…he feels like family.

———————————————————————————————————

And here we have the second installment in the “of moments in life” AU! No Blades this time, but there is Dreadwing and Chase bonding! Chase is starting to accept that not all is black and white, and Dreadwing is starting to find a new place and purpose for himself. Also, he’s a dad now. He just hasn’t really realized it yet.

I hope everyone enjoyed that! I had a lot of fun with it! There’s going to be more of this in the future, so if y’all wanna make sure you don’t miss the updates and whatnot, follow the “of moments in life au” tag.