Cody Burns wasâŚ.an odd organic, to be sure. Dreadwing didnât know what to make of him. The rest of his family stuck with their respective partners, but young Cody flitted between all the bots with an ease that surprised the Seeker. It surprised him even more when Cody approached him one morning with a thoughtful look.
âYou need a new vehicle mode.â The human stated.
âPardon?â Dreadwing wasnât amused.
âYou want to come out on rescue missions with the team, right?âÂ
âI do.â Heâd said as much when the younglings had returned from their latest mission  a little worse for wear.Â
They hadnât been injured, but theyâd needed a day to recover all the same. Apparently, a sinkhole had opened under one of the humanâs houses and Blades and Boulder had fallen into it, as itâd widened under their pedes while theyâd been trying to help with evacuation. After theyâd all returned home safely. Dreadwing had mentioned a desire to start accompanying them.
âWell, youâll need a new vehicle mode.â Cody repeated. âYour current one is really cool, but itâs too obvious as a military jet. If you want to be on a rescue team, youâll need a vehicle mode thatâs lessâŚâ he trailed off, clearly trying to find the right word. âIntimidating.â he decided on.
âI will not be getting rid of my weapons systems.â Dreadwing said firmly. Though the human had a point. He supposed his current alt-mode wasnât exactly appropriate for rescue work.
Cody just grinned. âYeah, I know. We arenât expecting you to. Thatâs why I asked Doc Greene to develop a vehicle that might suit you. He has the prototype done, if you wanted to see it.â
Dreadwing blinked rapidly. âYouâŚwhat?â
âWell, Doc Greene and Frankie are the only other ones who know about the Bots. I told Doc about you, and said you needed a new vehicle mode so you could do rescue work with the team. When I told him you turn into a fighter jet and used to be a soldier, he offered to design a prototype.â he smiled. âItâs not functional, but it has all the necessary parts, so you can scan it and use it as your new vehicle mode, if you want.â
Dreadwing had no idea how to respond to that. After a moment, he simply nodded.Â
âGreat!â Cody beamed. âYou have a map of the island uploaded, right? Do you want to meet me at the lab? Doc has a runway you can use to land.â
âThat would be acceptable.â Dreadwing nodded.Â
He watched the human grin again, then turn and leave. He didnât know that to do or what to think about this. It wasâŚa type of kindness and generosity that was unfamiliar to him. A human he had never met had designed a new alt-mode for him, and even gone so far as to build a prototype, all so he could participate in rescue missions. He felt like there had to be a catch, but the Seeker knew better. These werenât Decepticons. They didnât operate like that, but the sheer compassion and friendliness without any expectation of getting anything in returnâŚit left him reeling.
After several long minutes of staring in the direction the human had gone, Dreadwing shook himself and started forward. He left the firehouse, and then transformed and took to the sky as discreetly as he could.
It didnât take him long to arrive at the lab. When he did, he was greeted by Doctor Greene, and the human was practically buzzing.
âAh, Dreadwing!â He called in greeting. âExcellent! Youâre here! I presume Cody told you about the prototype I built for your new vehicle mode?â At the Seekerâs nod, his grin widened. âMarvelous!â He perked up when there was a quiet hum, and a moment later Cody came around the corner on his hoverboard. âAnd Cody is here too! Thatâs perfect! If youâll both follow me, now.â He said, and waved them after him.
Dreadwing followed, still silent even as Cody spoke up. âThanks again for this, Doc! It means a lot that youâd do this.â
âBut of course! Anything for your bots, my boy! Theyâve done too much for Griffin Rock for me to simply ignore them when they need assistance!â
They arrived at a large clearing a little ways above the lab, and there on the pavement was a sleek jet. It was clearly amphibious, as the belly was shaped in such a way to float on the surface of the water, but there were also very obviously retractable wheels. And curiously, it was much smaller than most amphibious planes Dreadwing had seen, itâs shape and form clearly only build for a single pilot and perhaps two passengers seated behind said pilot. There was no hold, no area for a greater number of passengers, though the faint panels along the bottom of the plane near the wheels suggested there was at least a small storage area. Likely for water, Dreadwing reasoned. All together, while the plane was very clearly not built for combat, it was also startlingly close to his current alt-mode and he would not be forced to sacrifice any of his speed of agility in the air with it.
He blinked slowly, then looked to the inventor. âThis is much more than I was expecting. Thank you, Doctor. You have truly outdone yourself.â
Greene beamed at him. âYes, well, I did my best! I talked to Blades about what you may need in a vehicle mode, and he explained to me how important it is for your type to have seen and maneuverability! So I scaled down a typical amphibious plane, altered the design to be closer to a fighter jet to allow for your needs, and also ensured youâd be able o have the parts you needed to perform all kinds of rescues with the others!â He said cheerfully. âAnd I even made sure to keep in mind your weapons systems, so you shouldnât lose them when you take on the new form.â He explained. âYouâll look just civilian enough to not be mistaken for a military plane, but also just enough specialized that any questions asked can be explained away as a new design for future rescue work.â
âVery sensible.â Dreadwing mused. âYou have my gratitude. I was not expecting this, and I am very thankful for the work you put in to accommodate me.â
âBut of course, Dreadwing! Youâre a member of the Burns family now, and that makes you a friend.â He smiled up at the former Decepticon. âI look forward to seeing all the good you can accomplish with it.â
Dreadwing felt something in his spark clench, and he bowed his helm before turning is attention to the plane. His optics flickered, and then they scanned the new plane. A moment later, his systems integrated the new form, and he transformed. Once he was done, a copy of the silver prototype sat in his place in gold and blue, and Cody laughed in delight.
âNoble!â He said loudly. âDreadwing, you look great!â He said brightly.
âThank you.â He shifted his senses to the doctor, next. âAnd I must thank you as well, Doctor. This form is very well built. It will suit my needs quite perfectly.â
âThat, my friend, is very good to hear.â Doc Greene chuckled. âNow, why donât you go for a test flight? See how everything feel in the air? And perhaps take Cody.â His eyes glittered with a playful mirth. âAfter all, you canât be seen without a passenger.â
Dreadwing gave a sot, amused huff. âQuite.â He agreed. His cockpit popped open. âCome on then.â He told the younger human.
Cody grinned even brighter, and hurried over. Thankfully, the jet had been designed in a way that allowed someone board without need of a ladder, so Cody was quickly seated in the pilotâs seat and buckled in. The cockpit shut, and with a final farewell to the inventor, Dreadwing was powering up his thrusters. He kept the takeoff easy, to account for his passenger, and soon he was rising up into the sky.
After a few minutes, Cody spoke. âSo, how does it feel?â He asked eagerly.Â
âVery good.â Dreadwing hummed. âI must admit, I did not expect such effort to be put into this.The Doctor has never met me. It isâŚsurprising, he would do something so kind for one he does not know. You are sure he expects nothing in return?â
Cody laughed. âIâm sure. Thatâs just what Doc is like. We all wanted to help.â He said brightly.
âThen your family are some of the oddest beings I have met. Kindness without expectation of reciprocation isâŚfairly new, to me.â
Cody hummed. âWell, thatâs what weâre like here. On Griffin Rock, I mean. We all have to help each other, cause if every act of kindness comes with strings then we wouldnât last long as a community.â
âBut not every human shares that ideology. Itâs naive.â
Cody shrugged. âMaybe.â He agreed. âBut it works for us here.â
âHere, yes.â Dreadwing stated. âBut most places are far crueler than Griffin Rock.â
âYouâre not wrong.â He admitted. âPeople can suck. But I never liked the belief that humans are inherently evil.â
âOh? That seems to be a popular belief on your planet. Why do you not take to it?â
âWell, are all Decepticons inherently cruel?â Cody asked.
âNo.â He stated honestly. âSome are. But mostâŚmost are not.âÂ
He thought of Breakdown, whoâs only fault had been in his anger over his station in life before the war, in the resentment that had built and eventually turned him away from the Autobots. He thought of Knock Out, who had once been deemed too glitched for his function because of his vanity and lack of deference for authority, and who had been slated for reprogramming before the rise of the Decepticons had given him somewhere to go to be safe. He thought of Soundwave, who had been created to serve Senator Ratbat, and who had been thrown into the gladiatorial pits when he had disobeyed one too many orders, who had once had more Symbiotes than just Laserbeak, who had loved each and every one of his creations so deeply and dearly that their deaths, one by one, had lead to a fundamental break in his processor that had hardened his spark against a world that had cost him everything. None of them were inherently cruel, but they had all been forced to learn cruelty and wear it like a mask and cloak to shield themselves against a world that had sought to see them broken.
He thought of himself, of Skyquake, and how they had been forced to learn cruelty, forced to wield it, in order to rise against an order that wanted to see them forced into line and brought to heel because of their frames and their coding.
He thought of all heâd lost to cruelty, and his spark ached.
âYeah.â Cody said softly. âHumans are like that too. We, as a species, have the potential to be cruel. Really cruel. But we also have the potential to be good. To be really good. To make the world better, to help others, to be kind. We arenât perfect, but we arenât defined by all the bad weâve done. We can grow, we can learn, and we can be better. I think that matters a lot more than the handful of humans who want to be cruel.â
Dreadwing hummed, thinking. âYes.â He said softly. âI believe you are right, Cody Burns.â
âI think you guys are the same. Cybertronians, I mean. I think you can all be good too.â
âIs that so?â He wasnât fully convinced. Perhaps for Bots like the mechlings of Sigma-17, but for those whoâd fought in the War? He doubted very much.
âYeah.â Cody nodded. âI mean, look at you.â
His engine almost sputtered from shock and only sheer force of will kept it from happening. âWhat?â
âYou did bad things. You told me so yourself. You hurt others. Killed people. Destroyed homes and lives.â Cody listed. Then he put a hand on Dreadwingâs dashboard. âAnd now, youâre helping the Bots. Youâre teaching them, guiding them, protecting them. Youâre being better than your past. Youâre growing past the cruelty of who you used to be and learning to be kind.â
Dreadwing was silent, shocked to his core. âThat is notâŚâ
âIsnât it?â Cody said, head tilted. âYouâre teaching Blades to overcome his fears and giving him someone who really understands him. Youâre helping Chase learn to be flexible and compassionate even when it doesnât understand why things are happening. Youâre giving Boulder a shoulder to lean in so he doesnât have to shoulder the burdens of the team and the past alone. Youâre teaching Heatwave to be more open-minded, and giving him an outlet of someone he can be vulnerable to. Youâre being good, Dreadwing, and the others are better for it.â
The Seeker didnât have anything to say to that. He didnât know if there was anything he could say to that.
After a moment of silence, he hummed. âYouâre very intelligent, for an organic.â He remarked.Â
Cody blinked, then chuckled. âThanks. But remind me to talk to you sometime about underhanded compliments.â
If he was in his root mode, Dreadwing would have blinked in confusion. âWhat? Why?â
Cody only laughed, shaking his head.Â
Dreadwing sighed, and found that to his surprise, he didnât mind to lack of a reply.
And as the small human calmed down, the Seeker flew on towards home.
Hey all. Iâd like to apologize for taking so long with this. Stuff happened. University kicked my butt, and I didnât have as much time to write. And when I started getting a handle on things, writerâs block hit. I know what I wanted to write, I had the ideas, but I couldnât find the inspiration or motivation. But now itâs starting to come back so I should be able to put out some more fics. Thank you all for your patience.
Also for anyone who might be confused, this is part of a series. You can find the rest of the series and itâs related posts under the tag âof moments in life auâ.
Anyway, I hope you like this one! The next installment is already planned and will feature Blades and Dreadwing, and after that itâll be time for my big plans with the Protectobots! Â
Let me know what you thought of this, and Iâd welcome any comments yâall have!
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Could you please write a crossover of Rescue Bots and TFP? Rather than dying on the Nemesis, a critically injured Dreadwing fleas and crash lands on Griffin Rock. The Rescue Bots find him and nurse him back to health, not realizing heâs a Decepticon because his markings got scratched up in the fight. Dreadwing wakes up while the Rescue Bots are trying to contact Team Prime, but canât since, unbeknownst to them, theyâre all on Cybertron, fighting the Cons for the Omega Keys and Omega Lock.
So, this one turned out to be much, much longer than I thought. So long, in fact, that I had to divide it into three posts. The second post will be linked at the bottom of this one, and the third will be linked at the bottom of the second. Dear god, apparently I had a lot of more thoughts about Rescue Bots than even I was aware of. Oh well. Either way, I hope everyone enjoys! (FYI: most prompt fills will not be this long. This one was just so long cause I have many emotions and ideas about this scenario.)
Dreadwing felt the betrayal of Lord Megatron as surely as if it were just as physical a wound as the hole blown through his chest. He had heard the weapon powering up, and his war-forged battle instincts had had him diving to the side just as the fusion canon had fired. It has still torn though his chest, but rather than destroy his spark chamber the blast had torn a hole straight through the right side of his chest near his shoulder. He lived yet, but if he could not escape the Nemesis that would not be the case for much longer.
He had served Lord Megatron with loyalty and honor for millennia, ever since he and his brother had joined the Decepticons after Vos had fallen. Dreadwing had sold his very spark to the Unmaker to act on the wishes and orders of his leader, and this is what his loyalty had earned him? Megatron attempting to offline him, and protecting the mech who had desecrated his brother? The same mech who had, countless times before, betrayed Megatron himself? Dreadwing could scarcely understand it. Why would Megatron spare Starscream, who had given the warlord no true loyalty, when Dreadwing himself had been nothing but loyal? Is this what his loyalty bought him, among the Decepticons? Dishonorably killed solely for attempting to avenge his brother by killing a traitorous coward?
If so, he wanted nothing to do with it.
He dragged himself down the halls, finally making it to the flight deck, and looked down to see the ship flying above the ocean. Rather than attempt a proper take off, he simply pitched his body forward off the edge and allowed himself to fall. As he neared the water, he forced a transformation, ignoring the agony of the action, and his engine roared to life. Lucid thought slipped away, then, as baser survival coding took over and guided him away from the warship, away from danger, away from what would have been his death.
Only one thing was certain, now.
In attacking Dreadwing to protect Starscream, Megatron had lost the loyalty of his most devoted frontline warrior.
Dreadwing simply refused to follow a mech who would protect the one who desecrated his brother.
And so, survival protocols overriding every other thought or higher system, the large Seeker allowed his higher processor functions to shut off. His mind quieted to blissful silence. Instinct alone drove him forward, flying towards a destination even he did not know. He could only hope it would be somewhere safe.
ââââââââââ
Blades didnât know what he was expecting when he went on a walk along the beach, but it most certainly wasnât a large Cybertronian lying in in the sand, looking like heâd crashed landed and resting lifeless on patch of sand soaked with energon. Technically, the copter wasnât 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, heâd found the aforementioned Cybertronian. For a moment, heâd 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 couldnât perform complex surgeries or anything on the level of a proper medic, but in the Rescue Academy on Cybertron heâd taken the courses for field level medical aid so that, if heâd ever run into someone during a rescue whoâd 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 heâd studied with-
He shook his head roughly before that thought could complete itself. He didnât want to think about the timeâŚ.Before. It hurt, remembering what and who heâd 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 didnât have the skills to patch this wound up fully. Once heâd made sure this mech wouldnât 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 heâd 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 heâd missed several messages. From Heatwave, Chase, Boulder, Dani, the Chief, CodyâŚPit, 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, Daniâs voice was coming through it.
âBlades! Finally! Where are you? Weâve all been worried sick, you know.â his partner scolded. Blades couldnât help the small smile that twisted his lips upwards. It was nice knowing she cared. He loved Dani dearly. She was family, after all. âYou know youâre not supposed to even be out of the firehouse on your own, you idiot bot!â she continued, her voice holding an undercurrent of worry despite the insult. Blades didnât take it personally. âWhat if someone had seen you? You need to-â
And now that was enough. âDani.â he interrupted her, his voice uncharacteristically serious. âIâm sorry for ignoring you and everyone else, but right now thereâs 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? Heâs in a really bad way. I have triage training, and Iâve patched him up, but he needs either a stasis pod or a proper medic, as close to immediately as possible.â
There was silence on the other end, before-
âAlright. Iâll tell everyone to come to your location. Iâm with Dad and Chase right now. We all split up to look for you, but weâll meet you there. Donât move, and keep the bot alive.â 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 heâd be forgiven for his blunder today, given the circumstances.
âWill do. Iâll see you soon.â
âJust hang tight, partner. And stay out of trouble.â
âYou too.â he chirped, hands still working over the bot to patch up his more minor wounds now that the life-threatening one was dealt with. âAnd Dani?â
âYeah, Blades?â
âIâm sorry for worrying you.â
There was a beat of silence, and then her voice came though, softer and fonder.
âDonât worry about it. You did the right thing.â
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 didnât even know.
ââââââââââ
Chase was worried. He knew Blades was more capable than the others thought he was, but that didnât stop him from worrying. He hadnât been surprised when the copter bot had left the firehouse that morning. Heâd seen the way he had held his rotors tight to his spinal strut, seen the way heâd 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. Heâd 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 hadnât been too worried. Still, when Heatwave had insisted on going to track down their rogue teammate, he hadnât protested. Heâd even offered to let Dani ride with him and the Chief to make things simpler.
But then Blades had finally picked up Daniâs 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 wasnât 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, andâŚ.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 Primeâs team, a Decepticon, or he had crash landed on the island from space and wasnât 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 DecepticonâŚwell, that was the root of the police botâs 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 DecepticonâŚChase wasnât sure theyâd be able to protect Griffin Rock, this time. He wasnât sure theyâd 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 copterâs hands.
âBlades, what happened?â Heatwave demanded, voice rough.
âI donât know.â he shrugged helplessly. âI 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.â
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. âWell can you tell how he got so injured?â
âA weapon of some sort, though not one Iâve ever seen the damage of before.â Blades said, frowning. His processor was clearly working hard, trying to turn over the facts he knew to figure out the bigger picture. âThereâs also signs of older damage. I canât be 100% sure, but I think this bot is, or maybe was, involved in the War.â
Heatwave paused, seeming more wary with this new information. ââŚcan you tell which side?â
âNo. 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.â
Chase could tell that Heatwave was annoyed, but the fire truck only grumbled his curses under his breath before sighing. âAlright. What do we need to do?â
âOf course.â Chase cut in before Heatwave could snap something rude and further stress the already clearly frazzled helicopter. âYou 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.â
Blades blinked a few times, before shaking himself and sitting up straighter. âLike I said earlier, he needs a stasis pod. Badly. I donât 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 Optimusâs medic. He can also heal completely in one of our stasis pods, but it would take longer than just asking Optimus for help.â
Heatwave grunted. âGot it. He needs a stasis pod now, and a medic later. We can do that.â
That seemed to be enough to startle Boulder into awareness, and the bulldozer jumped before nodding and turning to Heatwave. âGraham and I can figure out a way to transport him safely. Though weâll need your help, Blades. You have a better understanding of his condition than us.â
The copter nodded, and Chase let that be his que to retreat to back to where the humans were waiting. Apparently, they didnât want to get too close in case their presence caused an issue with the unknown botâs care.
âUnwell.â Chase said succinctly. âHe 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.â 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. âHey hey hey, letâs slow down!â he protested. âYou just said you donât know what side this guyâs on, and you want to bring him back home? We canât do that! Why canât Blades just fix him here and we can send him on his way?â
Chase tilted his head. âBlades 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 âsend him on his wayâ, 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.â
Kade froze, seeming suddenly queasy. âOh.â
Chief sighed. âFair point, partner. I agree we canât just leave him or let him die. It wouldnât be right, even if he isnât on our side. But for safetyâs sake, would it be possible to keep him unconscious until we can confirm his identity with Optimus?â
Chase nodded. âIndeed, 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.â
âGood.â Chief smiled. âThen letâs get to work.â
âAgreed.â
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 Boulderâs 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 didnât come back to bite them.
ââââââââââ
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, althoughâŚ.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 wasnât coming towards him, but rather they seemed to beâŚpacing? 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 aroundâŚand 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 heâd 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 thenâŚ.Vos had fallen, and word had spread that his cityâs destruction had been the doing of the Autobots. He and Skyquake had been forced to pick a side, then. Heâd gotten over his hesitance at the Decepticon methods and given Lord Megatron his undying loyalty. And nowâŚhe 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.
ââââââââââ
Blades was pacing. There wasnât 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 âupmost importanceâ and that he would return their contact when he was able to. That had been three weeks ago, and he hadnât 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. Heâd had to dig around the Sigmaâs 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 wasnât much, but it was enough that heâd been able to piece together information about the War that the Prime hadnât 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 wasnât surprised that it had grown worse, especially if the root causes of the unrest hadnât ever been addressed.
He also knew, from the information heâd 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 wasnât sure how to feel about that. But he hadnât told the others his suspicions. Mostly becauseâŚsomething about the situation was odd. Optimus didnât 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 couldnât control, Blades didnât 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 âCon? He wanted to get answers before he shared his suspicions. He didnât want to condemn the Seeker to anything bad if he was wrong.
Unfortunately, that hadnât 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 âend of the Rescue Forceâ. It had just been a mention, a reference to an event that was probably detailed in a separate data pad. But he hadnât ever found that separate data pad. And when he remembered What Optimus had said, when heâd first found them..â
âI was not aware Rescue Teams wereâŚstill active.â
Heâd said it slowly, haltingly, as if choosing the words carefully. Heâd paused before saying the last part too. At the time, Blades hadnât thought much of it. But with the information about the War Optimus had allowed them to have, and the mention of the âend of the Rescue Forceâ in that one data pad, wellâŚBlades was starting to think that âactiveâ had not been the word that the Prime had actually meant. Something had happened, something he didnât have enough information to figure out yet, but the faint picture he was starting to get from the pieces of information he did have wasnât 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 didnât care if the Prime didnât 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 didnât 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 couldnât 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 wasnât always 100% accurate, and just because he understand the what didnât 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 âworthwhileâ, 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. Heâd known the other bot was large, but seeing him awake and up just confirmed how large. The red optics too, made discomfort curl in Bladeâs tanks. The data-pads had suggested that red optics were typical of Decepticons, though they shouldnât 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 wasnât 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. ExceptâŚ.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. WhichâŚpresented a problem. Is this mech was hostile, he didnât 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. âAre you okay?â he asked, curling and tucking his hands against his canopy. âThe 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.â
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 heâd ever had one, of course, though the copter strongly suspected he did.
The Seeker seemed put off for a moment, as if he didnât know why Blades was worried. âI am well.â he said carefully. âAre you the one who repaired me?â
âWell, sort of?â Bladesâs rotors fluttered against his back. âIâm a triage medic, so I couldnât fix you completely, but I kept you online until my team and I could get you into a pod.â
The Seeker narrowed his eyes. âTeam?â he repeated, obviously suspicious.
Blades squeaked again, shoulders hunching. âWeâre Rescue Bots.â he gestured at his insignia before his hands tucked back against his canopy. âTeam Sigma-17. Iâm Blades.â
The Seeker was silent for a long moment. âYou may call me Dreadwing.â 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. âDo you mind if I scan you over one last time? I just want to be sure all your systems are in order.â
The Seeker bowed his helm, and Blades lifted his hands to skim over plating, using his built in scanning systems heâd 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.
âYou are a Rescue Bot.â Dreadwing spoke. His voice was low, and there was an odd note to it.
âYep. 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.â he explained distractedly.
Dreadwing made a soft hum. âPrime knows you are here? Are you Autobots, then?â
Blades frowned. âHe knows. He visits, sometimes, but not often. We havenât been able to contact him lately though.â 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. âNo? At least, not really? Weâre a Rescue Team. Rescue Bots take oaths off non-affiliation. We canât side with any particular group or individual since our job is to help any bot or being that needs it.â He was reading over the results of his scans, mouth turned down. âWeâre more closely tied to the Autobots right now, but that mostly because we donât know much of what happened with the war. We were in stasis until we crashed.â He let the readings flicker away, and froze when he realized how much heâd shared. âUhhhâŚ.â
Dreadwing only snorted, actually looking fairly amused. âYes, I think it is quite clear now that you are no warrior, little youngling.â he rumbled. His expression darkened. âI understand why Prime stationed you here, out of sight. Megatron would see you hunted and slaughtered if he knew a Rescue Team still functioned.â
This made Blades freeze, and as he recalled Optimusâs first words to them, and that data pad, dread began to build in his spark. âWhat?â he asked weakly.
Dreadwing stared. âYou were not told?â he soundedâŚangry. âThat 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.â
Blades swallowed. âOptimus doesnât 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.â he whispered. âDoesâŚdoes Megatron wanting my team offlined have anything to do with the âend of the Rescue Forceâ? I read about it in one of the data pads, but it was just a mention. I couldnât find any details other than that one phrase.â
Dreadwingâs gaze was solemn as the little bot lifted his optics to meet it. âYes.â he said bluntly. âIn 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.â
Bladesâs knees felt weak. He pressed his hands to Dreadwingâs chest to steady himself, grateful that the larger flyer didnât protest it. His rotors rattled madly against his back with his distress, and his optics were blown wide.
âBut that would meanâŚâ
âYou and your team are the last Rescue Bots in existence. All the others are offline and have been for many, many millennia.â
The copterâs knees gave out, and Dreadwing was quick to grasp his frame to keep him from hitting the ground. A sharp keen left Bladesâs 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.
Cody had been expecting to see Blades sitting in front of the TV when he and the others returned. He had not been expecting to see the large bot the team had rescued holding the copter while said copter made a sharp, painful sounding noise. When he, his siblings, and the other three bots had returned to the firehouse, theyâd been chatting and teasing Heatwave about his increasing frustration with his difficulty at contacting Optimus. Then when theyâd gotten down to the bunker, the three Cybertronians had abruptly stopped talking, before theyâd looked concerned and panicked and rushed ahead. The humans had followed as quickly as they could, and the group arrived to see Blades in the large botâs grasp, making that noise that Cody didnât know the meaning behind.
The large bot noticed the, first, and a sharp, red gaze snapped to the group. âMore younglings, little one? I suppose I should not be surprised, the Rescue Force did tend to match teams within the same age bracket.â he remarked.
Cody didnât know what a âyounglingâ was by Cybertronian standards, but to human ears it sounded like the new bot was calling Sigma-17 kids. Or at the very least, younger than adults.
Heatwave clearly didnât care about what the bot had to say. âYou let Blades go!â he snarled, stepping forward and looking ready to tackle the larger bot.
Blades had startled and gone silent when the bigger flyer spoke, but at Heatwaveâs words he jumped and pulled himself free, gathering his pedes under him and standing between his team and the larger bot. âWait!â he protested. âHe wasnât hurting me. I was kindaâŚcollapsing, and he kept me front falling.â
Cody frowned. âWhy were you collapsing?â
âHe told me something that Optimus should have told us a long time ago. Something very bad.â
âAnd what was that?â Kade snipped, eyes narrowed.
âIâd be curious to know too.â Dadâs voice came from behind them. Cody turned to see his father stepping out of the elevator. âBut first, maybe we should sit down. Something tells me this news isnât going to be pretty.â
âYou are a clever human.â The stranger rumbled. âI believe that would indeed be best.â
Heatwave growled, but nodded stiffly. âThis way.â
He led them to the lounge area, where everyone got settled and comfortable. The stranger sat on the floor, Blades and Boulder took the couch, and Dani and Graham sat beside their respective partners. Heatwave sat leaning against the couch, and Kade sat leaning against him. Chase pulled over a Cybertronian sized beanbag Graham and Boulder had made, and Dad squished in next to him. Cody, after a moment of consideration, stepped in and sat in front of the newcomer. The large bot shot him an arched brow, and the human just smiled and waved in response.
âSo.â Heatwave grunted. âWhatâs this news?â
âWeâre the last Rescue Bots.â Blades cut in, voice quiet.
Chase was frowning. âThat 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.â
Boulder frowned. âThat would make sense, though I have a hard time believing the others would justâŚ.abandon in the oaths of neutrality we all took.â
âThey did not.â The stranger cut in. âWhen 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.â he said bluntly.
There was dead silence in the bunker, with horror growing palpable in the air.
âDreadwing.â Bladesâs voice was weak. âMaybe that was a bit blunt.â He glanced at his teammates. âI think heâs right. I found a mention of the âend of the Rescue Forceâ in one of High Tideâs data pads. PlusâŚremember what Optimus said when he first saw us? âI was not aware Rescue Teams were still active.â Thatâs what he told us.â
Dreadwing. So that was the strangerâs 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 theyâd been told.
âDreadwing, is it?â Dadâs voice rose in the silence. âYou seem to know a lot about the topic.â
âAny Cybertronian who was alive at the time knows about the Fall of the Rescue Force. It was a great tragedy.â
âThatâs why Optimus is so adamant about keeping us here.â Blades whispered. âHe knew. He probably thought weâd be in danger if any other bot knew what we are.â
âYou would be.â Dreadwing agreed. âIf 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.â 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 horrorsâŚit was so casual. He didnât know what to make of it. The Rescue Bots didnât 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 veryâŚsanitized, in the way they spoke of the War. It wasnât necessarily bad that Dreadwing didnât care to censor himself, but Cody certainly wasnât used to it. Just the idea of his friends being stolen away and killed to make a point made him sick.
Grahamâs voice broke the silence. âLord Megatron.â he sound, sounding strained. âYou called him âLord Megatronâ. I canât imagine any Autobot calling the leader of their enemy something like âlordâ. Which means youâre not an Autobot. Youâre a Decepticon.â
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 BladesâŚhe 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 Heatwaveâs passenger seat, could only watch in confusion.
âEverybody stop and calm down!â The copter snapped, his rotors rattling against his back. The other bots were still, and Dreadwing hadnât moved from his seat on the floor.
The large bot shifted his gaze to Boulder, or rather, Boulderâs chest where Graham was tucked away. âYou are correct.â he said, voice somber. âI am a Decepticon. Or rather, I was. It was Megatron himself who gave me the wound that nearly offlined me.â He paused. âI 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.â He tilted his head. âRegardless, I assure you I have no desire to return to the Decepticons. I would be destroyed if I were to return.â
That seemed to calm the bots down, and Dani frowned from where Blades had stashed her. âYou knew, didnât you partner?â
Blades sighed. âI suspected.â he admitted. âI 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.â
Dreadwing bristled at the mention of âVosâ, though Cody didnât know what that was. âVos was destroyed and razed to the ground by Autobot forces, little flyer.â he rumbled. âSeekers 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.â he said bluntly. âIt is why most flyers joined the Deceptions. They did not wish to be treated as lesser simply because of a different vehicle mode.â
Dani blinked. âHuh. So bigots exist on all planets, then.â she sighed. âThe WarâŚare you saying it started as a social revolution?â
âJust so.â Dreadwing nodded at her. âIn 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.â
This was news to all the humans. Theyâd heard about the War, of course, but hearing about how it started and why it had began put new context on things.
âThe 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.â The Seeker continued. âWhat 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.â he sighed.
There was silence for a long moment, and the Rescue Bots finally returned to their previous positions, though they didnât 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. ThisâŚchanged 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 fromâŚit put a lot into perspective.
âBlades.â Dani spoke up. âYouâre a flyer. Did you run into any of that sort of thing Dreadwing was talking about, before your stasis nap?â she asked.
Blades sputtered. âWell, no.â he seemed embarrassed. âYou know I wasnât always a flyer. I was a ground-frame, on Cybertron. Sure, Iâd heard about the anti-flyer and anti-Seeker stuff but I never experienced it. Dreadwing is telling the truth, though. CybertronâŚdidnât have the best social system. I did know about the civil unrest, thought it hadnât grown to a revolution quite yet the last time I was on Cybertron.â he said, sheepish.
Before one of the humans could ask for an elaboration, Dreadwing was straightening up. âYoungling. You mean to tell me you were able to shift from a ground-frame to a flight-frame by scanning a new vehicle mode?â
Blades paused. âYes?â
Dreadwing was quiet, before uttering what Cody was very sure was a curse. âYou do realize that is an extraordinarily rare ability? Even triple changers are more common than that.â
âReally?â Blades, and even all the other bots, seemed stunned by this revelation.
âYes.â Dreadwing was frowning. âMost 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 modeâŚit speaks of a highly malleable and adaptable base frame type. The kind one expects from the tales of the Shifters of old.â
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.
âAre you saying Iâm a Shifter?â Blades seemed frantic at the idea.
âNo.â Dreadwing shook his head. âBut perhaps you have coding descended from them.â He sighed. âYour 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.â
Blades blinked, then looked down. âOh.â he whispered.
Heatwave growled. âLook, itâs all well and good that weâve figured this out, but now what? You were a Decepticon! You could hurt us or someone else on the island!â
Dreadwing looked unimpressed. âI have no intentions of doing any such thing, though I will leave if you prefer.â
âHe will try. I will simply have to avoid him.â
âThen why not join the Autobots?â Chase asked.
The Seekerâs expression went dark. âNo. 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.â
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 Dadâs eye.
âHoe about this, then.â Dad said. âWe donât feel right about sending you off where you might be killed. You donât want to fight the Autobots, you donât want to fight for the Decepticons. Am I right so far?â
Dreadwing simply bowed his head.
âDo you even want to fight in the War at all, anymore?â
Dreadwing paused. âThe Decepticons committed a crime which I must put right. But other than that, no.â There was a pause. âEven with my end goal, it is not the Decepticons at large I wish to see defeated. It is only one mech among their ranks.â
Dad hummed slowly, then nodded. âIâm guessing youâre not ready to tell us the details, so I wonât even ask.â he said. âHereâs what I propose: you stay here on Griffin Rock. You donât 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 youâre not out there running for your life from a tyrant. You just canât destroy anything or hurt anyone or cause trouble.â
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 wasnât against it, but it was a little unusual.
Dreadwing seemed to think over the offer, before he nodded. âI will accept your terms.â
Dad relaxed, and before Kade could protest he waved his children along. âNow come on, everyone. Itâs late and we humans need our rest.â he said. âKade, not here. We can discuss this more later. Letâs go, everyone.â
Cody hopped off Heatwaveâs 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.
âSo what else do you know that Optimus isnât-â
ââââââââââ
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 didnât 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 didnât 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 Bladeâs finials when the little copter botâs 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 heâd 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 hadnât even hurt his sensitive finials. But to a human, especially one who didnât have or understand the context of Cybertronian culture, the gesture and lack of reaction from the bots could easily be misunderstood.
So really, Blades wasnât surprised that Kade had finally snapped. As soon as heâd seen the interaction, heâd 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 Bladeâs shoulder and Dreadwing took the free spot on the couch. Which was where they were now.
âAlright.â Kade spat. âSo Iâm 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!â
âBut he wasnât there.â Blades chimed in. âWe talked when you went to bed that night. He joined the âCons after the Autobots destroyed Vos, which happened after the fall of the Rescue Force.â
âAnd that changes anything?â Kade sputtered.
âIt changes everything.â Heatwave grunted. âHe wasnât part of the group that destroyed the Rescue Force. And even though he joined them later, it wasnât 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 thatâs enough.â
Kade crossed his arms, scowling fiercely. âFine. I guess I can accept that, even if I donât get it. What I donât get is why youâd defect.â he directed the last part at Dreadwing. âYou 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?â
Dreadwing frowned, staring hard at the human. âYou are correct, Skyquake and I did originally join Megatron because we believed him to be honorable and just.â he tilted his head. âAs the War progressed and left Cybertron, Megatron gradually became moreâŚmad. However, we still followed him because we had sworn an oath of loyalty, and to break that oath would be dishonorable.â he rumbled. âAnd we did not fully agree with the Autobots either, even after Optimus Prime took command.â
âHold on.â Graham cut in. âSkyquake?â
Dreadwing blinked, and something odd entered his gaze. Blades felt the flash of grief in his EM afield before it abruptly cut off. âYes. Skyquake. He was my brother. We were split spark twins.â
âI thought you said you guys donât have families like humans!â Kade said to Heatwave, eyes narrowed.
The fire truck scowled. âWe donât! Not usually! Thereâs only really one exception, and thatâs so rare I didnât think it mattered!â
âTwo exceptions.â Blades intervened quickly. âThereâs actually two exceptions, two ways for Cybertronians to have siblings.â
Looks were directed at him, and he squirmed under the attention. Slag, he hadnât meant to say that. Theyâd 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. âYes. The first exception is that of split spark twins.â He glanced at the humans. âWe 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.â
âA spark is likeâŚyour soul, right? Itâs what gives you guys life and makes you who you are.â Dani questioned.
Dreadwing dipped his helm towards her. âIndeed. When a new Cybertronian comes into be, their spark is created in the Well. It goes through several layers of the Wellâs 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.â Noting the humanâs looks, he shook his head. âThe 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.â the Seeker explained.
âThat doesnât explain how you guys can have siblings.â Graham pointed out.
Dreadwing dipped his head. âTwins 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.â he explained it carefully.
âTwo halves, one whole.â Graham said, eyes lighting up with understanding.
Dreadwing nodded. âYes. 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.â His optics went distant, and Bladesâs own spark ached with painful remembrance. âThrough 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.â he rumbled. âBut even so, the bond persists, and it allows you to know your bonded is still living.â
âAndâŚthis Skyquake. Heâs your twin? Where is he?â Kade asked.
âGone.â Dreadwing said, his EM field flaring with that sharp agony, and even the humans could hear the grief in his tone. âOfflined before I even arrived on Earth.â
âHow did it happen?â 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. âCenturies 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.â he sighed. âRecently, Skyquake was awoken, and in an ensuing confrontation with the Autobots he was slain by Optimus Prime and his scout.â
Blades flinched, optics wide. Bumblebee had killed Dreadwingâs twin? He supposed he couldnât really judge a situation in which he didnât have all the information, but he still had a hard time imagining the friendly yellow bit he knew actually killing someone else.
âHow did you survive?â he blurted out. Looks were directed to him again, confused, but Dreadwing understood.
âDistance.â he rumbled. âI 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.â His gaze went sad. âI 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 didnât even hurt to feel him perish.â he said, and he sounded bitter at it.
Blades could understand. âIâm sorry.â he said honestly.
Dreadwing sighed. âHe died an honorable death. For that much, I am grateful.â
Kade cleared his throat, frowning. âOkay.â he said carefully. âBut that doesnât explain why you left the âCons. Shouldnât you have more reason to stay with the, if the Autobots killed your twin?â
Dreadwing growled lowly here. âNo.â he denied. âThe 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.â He turned a sharp look to Kade. âIt was the Starscream, however, who is a Decepticon, who desecrated my brotherâs rest by defiling his corpse and turning him into a Terrorcon.â
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 didnât want to draw attention to him just yet.
âTerrorcon? Cody asked.
âA zombie.â Boulder offered, looking sick. Actually, all the bots look sick. âOr the closest equivalent to it there is for Cybertronians.â
And now the humans all looked sick. âOh.â Kade said. âThatâs why you left.â
âYes.â Dreadwing said darkly. âI 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.â he growled. âStarscream turned my brother into something twisted and abhorrent. That is why I left.â he finished.
âIâm surprised you didnât rip his spark out.â Blades hissed. Stunned gazes turned to the copter, and everyone was alarmed to see just how angry he looked. âIâd have tried to, in your place.â
The only one who wasnât surprised was Dreadwing. âI did try, and I was almost killed for it. I will avenge Skyquake one day, little one. But for now, calm yourself.â
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. âJust the idea of someone doing that-!â he cut himself off, snarling again. Dreadwing was quick to pick Dani off the younglingâs shoulder and set her down.
âBlades.â he snapped. The others were too frozen in shock at the sight of the usually bubbly copter so aggressive.
âNo!â Blades snapped. âIf someone did that to âAid, or Groove, or Streetwise, or Hot Spot, or any of them, Iâd rip them apart myself!â
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 namesâŚ
âYou are gestalt, arenât you, little one?â
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. âWhat?â
âGiven your reaction, and those names you saidâŚ.it is the only conclusion that makes sense.â
âWait, BladesâŚyouâre part of a gestalt?â Boulder asked, his own optics blown wide.
âThatâŚwould explain your reaction.â Chase offered hesitantly.
âBlades.â Heatwave prompted at the copterâs continued silence.
âUh, hello? Clueless humans here!â Dani called. âBlades, put me back up. Also, whatâs a gestalt?â
The youngling bent down, allowing his partner to climb her way back up to his shoulder before he sat up. He sagged, looking defeated,
âA gestalt is the other way Cybertronians can have siblings.â he said quietly. âIt 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 canât 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 thatâs when the protoforms are created around the sparks.â He sighed. âWhen 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. Thatâs 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 mechâs own spark. Many, becoming one.â Blades looked down. âMy brothers and I are that. We can combine to form Defensor. Iâm the arm.â he said weakly.
There was shocked silence, and then Dani put a hand on his cheek. âSo twins are one spark that was split by the Well, and gestalts are many Sparks that were merged by it?â
Blades paused, then nodded. âYeah.â he whispered.
âSo you have brothers then? How many?â Kade asked.
Blades swallowed. âFour.â he wrapped his arms around himself. The others could tell something was wrong, they just didnât know what. âHot Spot, Streetwise, Groove, and First Aid.â
âSooooâŚ..where are they? What happened to them?â Kade asked bluntly.
âWhat?â Dani seemed confused. âDonât you have a spark bond with them, like Dreadwing was saying?â
âIâŚdo.â
âThen how-â
âStasis.â Chase cut her off, sounding horrified. âWe were in stasis. I do not know much about spark bonds, but I do remember reading that stasis is another way to mute a bond. We were in stasis for thousands of years, and after Cybertron fell, they probably fled far away.â
Blades swallowed. âIf theyâre even still alive.â he closed his optics. âThe stasis, combined with the distance, would have muted the bond enough for the breaking of it not to kill me if theyâd died. In stasis, I wouldnât have even felt it break.â He opened his optics to meet the gazes of his teammates, optics wide and welling with cooling fluid. The forces of his emotions were so strong it was making his frame overheat, which caused his optics to leak the fluid in an attempt to cool him down. âAll I know is, I woke up from stasis after the crash and I couldnât feel them anymore. I felt them before we went into stasis. We were too far to communicate with words, but they sensed how scared I was and they just kept sending me worry and reassurance.â he whimpered. âBut when I woke up I didnât even have that. I donât know where my brothers are or if theyâre even alive. Thatâs what really hurts.â
There was a long beat of silence, and then Dani was pressing herself to his face to hug him. âOh, Blades.â 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. âIâm truly sorry, little one. At least when I was separated from my brother, I could use the bond to tell he still lived.â
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 hadnât let himself think about it, before now. Now really. But heâd finally been forced to and he wished he hadnât. He just wanted his brothers back. He missed them. He didnât 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.
ââââââââââ
Another week passed, and theyâd 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 heâd arrived at the island, and the Prime had agreed with Dreadwingâs 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 wasnât an impressive space, but he wouldnât 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 heâd seemed more withdrawn ever since heâd confessed to being gestalt. The Seeker couldnât 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. âYou should be recharging, little one.â
Blades looked at him, then back up. âI canât. I keep remembering.â he sounded miserable.
Dreadwinf sighed. âTell 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?â
Blades flinched. âI donât know. Both hurt.â he whispered. âDreadwing, 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.â
Dreadwing stilled, considering. That was a very likely scenario. âI do not know what they thought.â he said honestly. âPerhaps 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.â he sighed. âI cannot give you the answers, little one. Cybertronâs children are scattered, and I would not know where to tell you to begin searching, even if I knew for certain they were alive.â
Blades whimpered, and Dreadwing wasnât 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 couldnât. 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 Seekerâs side.
Dreadwing stared at him for a long moment, then left out an breath of a chuckle and turned his gaze back up.
Holy crap itâs 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 donât mind that I included the Protectobot Blades idea in. Iâve seen it floating around a few other places before now, so the idea isnât originally mine, but I really like it and I think it fits with his character, so here we are.
With that done, Iâm off to finish my next ask box prompt. It should be up in the next couple days. It will be nowhere as long as this one. In fact, most ask box fics will even get two posts long, so donât get used to this.
Heatwave stood on his small training platform, punching the wooden dummy and trying to ignore the rage bubbling in the back of his processor. That morning, heâd read some of the data-pads that High Tide and Optimus had left, the ones Blades had read when Dreadwing first crashed on the island. What heâd learned had made him angry, and he didnât understand how his teammate hadnât been angry, too.
The DecepticonsâŚthe pads had a lot of information on what the âCons had done throughout the War. The information had definitely been censored and sanitized, probably intentionally so his team wouldnât be exposed to the full horrors of the War through the data pads, but it had still been enough for Heatwave to understand.
Dreadwing had said that the Decepticons started as a social revolution. But they were certainty far from that, now. The Rescue Force, Praxus, IaconâŚtheyâd destroyed everything that had stood in their way, not caring if those they crushed were even involved in the War or not. It made him angry, his rescue protocols screaming with rage and loss in his processor.
As the conflicting emotions peaked, he heard the sound of pedes behind him and turned to see Dreadwing. Heatwave stepped away from the training post, the platform lowering to the ground as he crossed his arms and frowned. He liked the former Deception. He hadnât spent as much time with him as the rest of his time, but he big bot was never violent or mean. He was a little blunt, and seemed to be a bit overly aggressive in his solutions for Heatwaveâs peace-orientated processor, but he wasnât a bad bot. At least, he didnât appear to be.
Dreadwing seemed to notice his internal distress, because the larger bot pinned him with a considering and slightly concerned look. âYou seem troubled, little one.â he rumbled.
âIâm not little.â Heatwave answered on reflex, mildly indignant. He didnât understand why the Seeker referred to him and his teammates like that. Well, he supposed he did. They were all little, compared to him. âAndâŚI guess I am.â He looked up at Dreadwing, a hard frown twisting his features.
âSo I see.â Dreadwing, for his part, now looked ever so slightly amused. âAnd what is it what is causing you such distress?â
Heatwave made a frustrated noise, his vocalizer clicking in a sort of nonsense babble as he tried to think of how to explain. âI justâI donât understand. How could they have doneâŚeverything they did?â
âWhat are you talking about?â Dreadwing asked, confused.
âI read the data lads Optimus and High Tide left! I learned about some of the things the Decepticons did!â he snapped, frustration and anger bleeding into his tone in place of previous confusion. Just the thought of what heâd learned was enough to make his spark sing with rage.
âAh, now I understand.â The Seeker stated, his gaze becoming solemn and understanding. âAnd what did you learn, Heatwave?â
âYou know what!â
âI 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.â
The fire truck scowled. âOh? So the Decepticons didnât destroy Praxus, which was supposed to be a Neutral city?â
Dreadwing paused. âThey did. It was before I joined, but they did.â
âAnd youâve probably done a lot too, havenât you?â He demanded. âKilled a lot of innocent bots, destroyed a lot of lives?â he was angry and hurting and he didnât 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 couldnât 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. âI 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 Megatronâs command.â He said softly. âI 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.â
âThen why did you do them? Why are you here? Why should we let you stay if youâve done all of that?â He didnât 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 didnât know what to think.
If the harsh questions bothered him, Dreadwing didnât show it. âI 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. Donât tell me you donât.â he said. âI 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.â He paused, tilting his head slightly. âI 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.â Dreadwing took an extra moment to consider the last question. âYou likely should not.â he answered. âI cannot change what I have done, all I can do it try to make amends and hope to find redemption one day.â He met the younglingâs gaze evenly. âBut I would like to stay, if you would allow me the chance to pursue something better here.â
Heatwave held his gaze, then sagged and looked away. âFine. I donât even want you to leave anyway.â he sounded tired. âI wonât make you go. I donât think I could. The others like you, and so do I. Itâd just do more harm than good to everyone involved if I made you leave now.â he glanced up. âJustâŚtell me why. Why did the Decepticons do all of that? I donât understand.â he sounded frustrated and helpless.
Dreadwing softened, his wings dipping down just slightly as his frame relaxed. âThe Decepticons did not rise from nothing, little one.â he rumbled.
âWhat do you mean? The data pads said Megatron came out of nowhere and built them up before anyone realized what was going on.â He said, his anger abating in face of his even more confusion.
Dreadwing scoffed. âI am certain that many Autobotâs believe that.â his lips curled faintly, displeased. âThat is, however, as far from the truth as you can get.â
âThen why would Autobot data pads contain that information as if it were fact?â he demanded, crossing his arms.
The Seeker hummed, tilting his head. âPerhaps, if you wish to have this discussion in its entirety, it would be best to sit somewhere?â
Heatwave paused, then nodded. âLounge.â 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.
âTo 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.â Dreadwing stated.
Heatwave frowned. âI know what you told us when you first arrived.â he said, tilting his head. âI also know that the Autobotâs 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 âCons in charge and remove lots of freedom from bots under their rule.â he said. He crossed his arms, staring at a point on the floor as he tried to think. âI know that the Senate used to rule Cybertron during the Golden Age, and that they werenât very fair and a lot of bots suffered, and that some of their regulations and punishments were extreme.â he tilted his head. âI know the caste system made the bots in the lower castes struggle a lot.â he seemed almost ashamed at this point. âIâŚ.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.â
âRescue work.â Dreadwing guessed.
The firetruck nodded. âYeah.â he admitted.
âThen you know much of the very basics, though your knowledge lacks in the complexity and finer details of the full scope of the situation.â he rumbled. âYou are correct. The Autobots fight for a restored Cybertron. But your knowledge of the Decepticons isâŚnot entirely accurate.â
Heatwaveâs engine growled with displeasure as he just grew more helplessly confused. âWhat?â
âThe 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 wasnât always so.â
âYeah, you mentioned they started as a social revolution.â Heatwave said, starting to calm down once he realized heâd be getting his answers, and without all the vagueness that came from Optimus whenever he tried to ask the Prime about the War.
âThey 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.â he said, voice soft and somber. âIt 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.â
âUndesirables?â Heatwave echoed, confused.
âBots 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.â He cast the youngling a meaningful look. âFor 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.â he paused. âIt 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.â
Heatwave was silent for a long moment, considering what he was told. âButâŚyou said the caste system was a rot. What did you mean?â
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. âYou said weâre were of the upper-middle caste.â he said carefully. âAnd 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?â he asked.
Heatwave furrowed his optical ridges, shaking his helm. âNoâŚâ he said slowly. âI knowâŚI 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.â he said.
Dreadwing smiled faintly. The young bot was starting to understand on his own. âIndeed. But those bots only made up a minority of Cybertronâs population. What of the others? What of the common laborers?â
âYou mean, like, cleaners and construction bots? Youâre right, they were more common than scientists, medics, or artists.â he said. âLike Boulder. He was originally a construction bot.â
He nodded. âThey were indeed more common. But what caste did the Senate assign to them?â
âTheâŚthe lower caste.â Understanding was starting to bloom in Heatwaveâs optics. âThe lowest caste, for most of the laborer frames.â he realized. âThat meansâŚBoulder was from the lower castes.â
Dreadwing hummed agreement. âHe 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.â He sighed heavily. âBut 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.â
Heatwave swallowed, his optics blown wide. âOh.â he whispered. âButâŚwhy didnât they do anything?â
Dreadwing looked almost melancholic at his question. âMost 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.â he stated. âAnd those few that did try to speak upâŚâ he trailed off. âThe 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.â his tone was grim.
Heatwave chose not to ask what those âother meansâ were. He had a feeling he didnât want to know. âItâŚit was really that bad?â
The Seeker bowed his helm. âAsk Boulder or Blades. They would know the best of your teammates.â Though, he had his suspicions about the means of Chaseâs creation, and if he was right then the police bot might also know how bad the Senate could be.
âBoulder, I get. But why Blades?â
âThe 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.â
âOh.â Heatwave was starting to get the feeling that he didnât know as much about his team as he thought he did. He really needed to fix that. âI guess I understand why the Decepticons rose to quickly then, if things were really that bad for so long.â
âIndeed.â Dreadwing agreed. âBut there is one more thing you must understand.â
âWhich is?â Heatwave was feeling a little sick to his tanks. He hadnât been aware the situation on Cybertron had been so bad, but then again, heâd lived a good life. Heâd 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 wouldnât have experienced the rot Dreadwing mentioned, so it only made sense he wasnât entirely aware of it. That didnât get rid of the guilt, though.
âThe 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.â Dreadwing pinned Heatwave under a severe look. âWhat does that tell you, little one?â
âIt tells me that the Autobots are mostly ground-frames and bots from the middle and upper castes.â he answered, suddenly understanding the War in a whole new light. It certainly didnât excuse what the Decepticons had done, but now thisâŚthis made it a lot easier to understand.
âIndeed.â he agreed. âThe 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.â he said. âWhen the Senate, and later the original Autobots before Optimus Prime, attempted to beat them back down to their âproper placeâ, they fought back for the freedom that should have always been theirs.â His gaze went distant, as if remembering something from long ago. âThe 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.â
âAnd now?â
âNow, 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.â
âSo most of the AutobotsâŚthey werenât bots who were hurt by the Senate.â
âNo.â Dreadwing agreed. âPrimeâs 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.â The Seeker smiled sardonically. âHe was quite firmly in the highest castes. All of them operated according to their Function, and all of them were content with it.â He tilted his head. âThe only bot on Primeâs 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.â
Heatwave nodded, looking own at his lap. âI think I get it now. This warâŚitâs not going to end until the Autobots understand that stuff, is it? Because they wonât understand why most of the Decepticons keep fighting, why they started fighting in the first place.â he said, looking up to meet red optics.
âYes. Youâre very intelligent, little one. You learn fast.â Dreadwing slumped slightly, releasing a heavy vent. âYou 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.â
âYou really know a lot about this stuff.â
âI am a Seeker, Heatwave. I experienced much of the Senateâs cruelty directly, as did most of my frame-kin.â
The Rescue Bot nodded, subdued. Now he understood. A part of him wished he didnât, but he was glad he did. He sighed, meeting Dreadwingâs gaze again. âI think I owe you an apology, then. I judged you based on incomplete information.â
Dreadwing bowed his helm. âThank 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.â
Heatwave nodded, smirking and straightening up. âI think you can. And lucky for you, weâre here to help.â he said.
Dreadwing blinked, before he chuckled, his wings lifting as the mood brightened. âSo you are. Thank you, youngling.â
âWeâre Rescue Bots.â Heatwave grinned. âHelping others is what we do.â
âSo it is.â He agreed, looking amused. âAnd perhaps, I can also help you?â
He blinked, taken aback. âMe? How?â
âI 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.â
Heatwave blinked. âYouâll teach me how to fight.â he stated.
âI 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.â Dreadwing pointed out.
Heatwave narrowed his optics, considering the unsaid implications of that statement. ââŚyou think the War might come to us.â
âPerhaps.â he said grimly. âI 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.â
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 theyâd 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.
âLetâs do it.â
Dreadwing stood, a faint smile curling at his lips, and clapped a hand on the younglingâs shoulder. âI look forward to it.â 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. âSo do I.â
Heâd 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, heâd come to realize. Cybertronâs history was steeped in shadows and darkness and Heatwave was certain that he still didnât know everything, that Dreadwing had certainly omitted many of the worst of the details. Given all that, he really couldnât find it in himself to be surprised that the War had happened.
Now though, wasnât the time to focus on the past. Not Cybertronâs past, and not on Dreadwingâs 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. Dreadwingâs past didnât 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 â all of them, even its newest addition.
Here it is, folks! The next installment in âof moments in lifeâ! This one goes a little deeper into Pre-War Cybertronâs social/political climate. Heatwave got a massive reality check. He was sorta privileged, by the standards of the Golden Age, and heâs 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. Itâs gonna be sad. Theyâre gonna talk about their brothers. Thatâs all Iâll say! I have prompts fo write for before I can get to it, so itâll be a bit, but stay tuned, itâll come out! Anyway, hope yâall liked it! Let me know your thoughts!
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The voice came from behind Boulder, and the unexpectedness of it made him startle. Which, in turn, made him jerk and drag his paintbrush across his canvas. The result of which was him turning a small cloud above a red and orange flower field into a streak that cut through the whole picture. Oops. That wasnât what heâd been intending.
He turned to see who had spoken, his optics shuttering with surprise when he realized it was Dreadwing. He was quick to realize that the Seekerâs expression had quickly shifted to one of regret.
âI apologize, youngling. It seems I caused you to ruin your art.â
Boulder only smiled, shaking his helm. âItâs no big deal.â he assured. âPart is the artistic process is making mistakes and having to start over. I did it a lot, in the beginning.â He glanced at the canvas, tilting his helm. âBut that doesnât mean every mistake requires you to start over from scratch. Thatâs the great thing about painting.â he remarked distractedly, tilting his helm in the other direction. âSometimes, a mistake can be turned into something new, maybe even something better.â he narrowed his optics, then they lit up with a realization. âSometimes,â he repeated. âAll you need,â he reached out, then turned the canvas around so what had once been the flower field was now at the top of the painting. âIs a new perspective.â
When he glanced back, Dreadwing didnât seem to understand. Boulder smiled. âLet me show you.â
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 heâd 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.
âSee? Itâs a feather in the sunset, now.â
Dreadwing only blinked. âI suppose, though Iâm afraid I do not much understand art. I always preferred to read data pads and learn about various fields of study.â There was a pause. âSkyquake enjoyed art.â It was a quiet addition.
Boulder found his smile softening. âYeah? Youâll have to tell me about it sometime.â he encouraged. He glanced at his canvas. âI like art. Thereâs no set way to do it and thereâs not much penalty for making mistakes. Itâs nice.â
The Seeker hummed. âDo you believe most mistakes can be fixed with a new perspective?â
Boulder blinked, frowning. There was something off in Dreadwingâs tone. The others might not pick up on it, but he was good with other bots. He always had been. ââŚthis isnât just about painting anymore, is it?â
Dreadwing startled, surprise making his field flare. âYou are far more perceptive than your teammates.â he said after a moment.
Blades smiled, turning to fully face the flyer. âBlades 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. Theyâre all good bots, and I care about them a lot, but they arenât the most..â. he searched for the right word. âEmotionally intelligent. Blades can read others really well when he isnât swept up in his worries, but the other two are a bit hopeless.â He wasnât 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. âYou are correct. It is not just about painting. But it is my burden to bare, and I will not trouble you with my struggles.â
Boulder chuckled. âWell thatâs a bad idea.â he said lightly. âYouâve already helped us a lot. Chase told the team what you did for him. Weâve all seen what youâve done for Blades. Why donât you let us help too? Youâre one of us now, itâs gotta be about give and take.â
Dreadwing stared. âWise words for one so young.â he sighed. âVery well, I will share my thoughts.â he vented harshly, then stared intently at the painting Boulder had been working on. âMy 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.â he said after a moment.
Boulder was quiet, before he lifted his gaze. âCan I offer my thoughts?â At Dreadwingâs nod, he continued. âYouâve made a lot of mistakes. Youâve done a lot of terrible things. I donât doubt that. And I know there are a lot of Autobots who would want to see you pay for those mistakes.â he tilted his helm. âI donât know the full scope of the War. I donât know everything youâve done. But I do know how bad off Cybertron was before we left it.â The Seeker shot him a startled look, and he smiled a little sadly,
âI didnât join the Rescue Force just because I wanted to help others, Dreadwing. In fact, in the beginning, my motives were entirely selfish.â he explained. âWhen I got to the age where Iâd 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 didnât 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, butâŚI was from the lower castes, Dreadwing. I knew.â 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 didnât suit him to look soâŚdefeated. After a moment of thought, he put a hand on Boulderâs back and stepped closer. He knew Chase would not want more than this, but Blades preferred hugs as his method of comfort. Dreadwing didnât 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.
âWhat Iâm getting at is, I know how bad off Cybertron really was. So even if I donât 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, butâŚit was still Nyon.â 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, Sentinelâs predecessor, it had fallen into near-total ruin. âYou 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.â
Dreadwing hadnât explicitly said any of this, of course. But Boulder was perceptive, like the Seeker himself had said. Heâd read between the lines. He had understood what Dreadwing hadnât been saying. It was one of the reasons heâd so quickly accepted the large bot as a new fixture in their lives. In his optics, this was Dreadwingâs chance at a life he should have had to begin with.
âThat doesnât change what you did, but it adds context. And given that the War destroyed Cybertron and decimated our peopleâŚâ Which had been another thing Optimus had opted not to tell them. Dreadwing had had to share that particular tidbit. âWell, the War has to end someday, and if it ends in Autobot victory then we canât afford to lock up every âCon. I donât think thereâs enough Cybertronians left for that.â
He realized he hadnât yet gotten around to answering Dreadwingâs statement, and embarrassment flushed through him. âYou made mistakes. Thatâs 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 youâre here. Then, when everything comes to an end and the dust settles, itâll be a lot harder for people to say that you never tried to make things right or that youâre unwilling to change.â he looked up to meet Dreadwingâs gaze. âProve 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.â
Dreadwing was frozen, and Boulder found himself smiling at the hints of shock in his field and gaze. âIâŚhad not considered those points.â the Seeker admitted after a long minute.
Boulder chuckled. âNew perspective, remember? I just so happened to be able to provide it. Thatâs part of the benefit of letting yourself trust and rely on others.â
The flyer shot him an indecipherable look, and nodded. âThank 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.â
Boulder beamed, nodding. His somber mood was seemingly forgotten and he gestured to his painting. âGlad I could help! Now, if you donât mind, I have sudden inspiration for this and Iâd like to finish it.â he said, stepping towards the canvas.
Dreadwing let his hand drop, head tilting. âMay I watch?â At Boulderâs 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. IntoâŚa very familiar image.
After Boulder finished the sunset and feather, he had begun paintingâŚthe Rescue Force Headquarters. And Dreadwing picked up the longing and melancholy in the younglingâs EM field. The Seekerâs spark ached at the bulldozerâs visible grief, and he frowned. So Boulder hadnât 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 hadnât realized what heâd been painting until then, because when he took in the whole painting his only reaction was to let out a quiet, surprised âOh.â
Dreadwing stepped closer, letting his own field nudge at Boulderâs, and upon finding no protest he let it curl around the youngling. Boulderâs vocalizer clicked and reset itself before he was able to speak. âI hadnât realizedâŚâ
Dreadwing hummed softly. âYou miss it.â he could tell in the aching and longing that all but swamped the bulldozer.
âI donât know why. Like I told you, I didnât have the happiest beginnings back on Cybertron. But I still miss it. All of it, not just the Rescue Force. Nyon, too.â he said in a whisper.
Dreadwing put a hand on his back, keeping his field soft and soothing. âIt 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.â
Boulder nodded. âYeah.â he admitted. âThe 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 justâŚcame together. We wereâŚlike a community.â he said softly. âWe all took care of each other and helped each other and even if the city wasnât always the best, the neighborhood we lived in was actually alright, for Nyon anyway. I never starved, even if I didnât always have the best fuel. My life wasnât great, butâŚit wasnât horrible either. I miss all the good things.â
Dreadwing bowed his head. He couldnât 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. âCybertron is dead, but itâs 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 Cybertronâs heart and culture alive, even if the planet itself cannot be repaired.â he said softly. âYou did not get to know Cybertronâs 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.â
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. âI 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.â
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 Dreadwingâs as if asking for comfort, and his vocalizer clicked and reset itself before he actually was able to speak. ââŚBlades said you give good hugs.â he said quietly, his field holding the softest undercurrent of hope.
Dreadwing only hummed, gaze softening. So that was Boulderâs 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.
And hereâs the next installment in the âof moments in lifeâ 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. Thatâs why I figured heâd be the best one to help Dreadwing with his own issues. But, even then, heâs still just a kid! A kid who woke up out of a very long nap to learn that his planet is dead and everything heâs 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!
Chase didnât understand humans, sometimes. Chief spoke of the importance of following the rules, but fairly often the human let the citizens of Griffin Rock get off with very little punishment in regards to their rule breaking. Yes, he did ticket speeders and illegal parkers, but all too often he would allow people to break the same rule multiple times and would not increase the penalty, as so many human law books suggested was prudent. It confounded him. He did not understand. Were rules not important?
Chase knew they were. Rules were the pillars of a structured society. The Rescue Force, when it had still stood, had been built on rules and order. They had functioned best when the regulations and protocols had been followedâŚhadnât they? Unbidden, the police bot found himself remembering Sigma-17âs encounter with the energon eater. He knew what protocol would have dictated, in that circumstance. âDo not cease the rescue operation, not until all other options have been exhausted and there is no chance of mission success.â
That was one of the Rescue Bot codes. Had they followed it, they would have pushed past the energon eater to follow the distress signal. ExceptâŚ.Chase knew now that the signal had been a false one. If they had not halted the rescue operation, then Sigma-17 would have continued to try and save bots that did not exist, and would likely have lost one, or more, of its members to the space beast. So in that circumstance, it would have been foolhardy to follow the rules. ButâŚthat was an exception, wasnât it? Surely it was best to follow the rules at any other time?
He was so caught up in his own processor as he went down to the bunker that he didnât notice when his path led him directly into that of another. Chase let out a surprised shout when he impacted something hard and large, and the force of it, even if he hadnât been walking fast, enough to make him stumble back and almost trip over his own pedes. Thankfully, a large hand caught his shoulder and righted him quickly. He looked up to thank who had caught him, thinking it to be Boulder since no one else had hands close to that size, only for his voice to die in his throat when his optics met the red gaze of Dreadwing.
âAh. Dreadwing.â he said, shuffling awkwardly. Dreadwing was another case that made Chaseâs processor ache.
Again, he knew what protocol would dictate about the Seekerâs 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 didnât know why. It justâŚdidnât feel right. Dreadwing had done horrible things in the name of the Deception cause. He knew this. The Seeker had even admitted as such. YetâŚ.he didnât want to go see him punished either. He knew why the flyer had done the things he had. He didnât 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 hadnât been under the Decepticon banner, well. Chase couldnât see himself demanding recompense. It was hard to. Dreadwing was not a saint, he knew that. ButâŚhe wasnât some violent, sparkles monster either.
âHello, little one.â The Seekerâs deep rumble tore him from any further spiraling. âYou seem troubled.â
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 oneâs throat, and he sagged. âPerhaps.â 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 didnât 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 Chaseâs core coding. They werenât Cybertronian, after all.
ExceptâŚ
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 copterâs 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 wasnât just for the copter bot.
âDreadwing.â he straightened his spinal strut, meeting that red gaze head on. âIf 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.â
Dreadwing simply stared at him for a moment, his right wing twitching in a gesture that Chase didnât 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 Bladesâs rotors. But he was no flyer, and he didnât know what that twitch meant.
Thankfully, Dreadwing quickly seemed to realize this, because he instead dipped his helm. âI 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.â
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. âI am struggling with my core beliefs and understanding whether or not they may be wrong.â
Dreadwing tipped his helm to the side. âI see.â he hummed.
Chase figured he likely would. The Seeker had had to recently shift his entire worldview of where his loyalties lay, after all. âIâŚhave 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.â
The Seeker hummed. âSo I see. Then here does your issue lie?â
âIâŚ.â he trailed off, then reset his vocalizer. âChief 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.â The cop bot sounded frustrated. âAnd there is alsoâŚâ He looked down. âYou. 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.â he finished, frustrated and angry with his own lack of understanding.
To his credit, Dreadwing let him finish before he spoke. âI believe I understand now.â he stared hard at the smaller bot. âRules are important. You are correct about that. In a well functioning, proper society, rules create the pillar upon which order is maintained.â
Chase made a frustrated noise. âThen why-â
Dreadwing cut him off. âHowever. 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 Vosâs children did not fit into the societal rules they had set for the rest of Cybertron.â
Chase blinked. âBut what does that have to do with it?â
âIn 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.â
Chase jerked. âHow did you-â
âYou rant about that specific man very often, Chase.â the Seeker said dryly. âNow, 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.â
Chase crossed his arms. âWhat does that matter?â
âIt matters quite a bit.â Dreadwing sighed. âIn 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 childrenâsâ respect and regard for one another. Once that respect and regard is lost, so to are the foundations that make Griffin Rock a community.â he explained.
Chase blinked. âChiefâŚdoes not penalize the citizens of the island more harshly because they are a community?â
Dreadwing hummed. âPrecisely.â he agreed. âWithout 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.â
âOr even no punishment at all?â
âOr even no punishment at all.â Dreadwing seemed pleased that Chase was starting to understand. âAs for the second half of your concernsâŚI do understand that as well. You are correct. Any legal system would demand my incarceration. However, one must also look at the specific circumstances.â he leaned back. âI 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.â
Chase blinked, then sagged and nodded. âI 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.â
Dreadwing chuckled. âThank 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.â
Chase smiled despite himself. âGood.â Then his expression dropped a little, and he looked down. âWhat about in societies that are not built on community? Are rules not important there?â
Dreadwing tilted his helm. âHm.â he narrowed red optics. âThat 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.â
Chase looked at the Seeker in confusion. âIâŚwas aware of the discontent. I knew the lower castes were struggling. But how bad was it exactly?â
Dreadwing tilted his helm up. âThe 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.â the Seeker sighed heavily. âHowever, the rest of Cybertron was not so lucky.â Fingers drummed against the couch, and the Seeker was silent as he considered his next words. âYour 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.â
Chase went still, optics wide. He couldnât imagine that happening to Boulder. He knew what sort of punishment Dreadwing was talking about. Anything from jail toâŚempurata. He shuddered as the thought crossed his processor. He couldnât 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 Senateâs darkness, even if he hadnât understood how bad it had truly been.
âIâŚ.see.â he whispered.
And he was starting to. Rules had defined his life up unto now, butâŚhis 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 Dreadwingâs gaze, standing up from his beanbag. âIâŚthank you, Dreadwing.â he said gratefully. âI do not understand fully, but I believe I will eventually. You have given me much to think about. Your adviseâŚ.it was much appreciated.â
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. âMovie!â he blurted.
At Dreadwingâs confused stare, he reset his vocalizer. âI would like to share something of mine with you, now that youâve shared your advice with me. If youâd 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.â he said, and despite himself he couldnât 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 acquiescenceďżź. âI would be interested in seeing what it is that garners your enjoyment, young one.â 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 wasnât 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 Dreadwingâs arm, and when he realized what heâd done he tensed and made to pull away. OnlyâŚDreadwing didnât 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 secondâs 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 didnât 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 Seekerâs 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 heâd 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 wasnât 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 feelsâŚhe feels like family.
And here we have the second installment in the âof moments in lifeâ 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, heâs a dad now. He just hasnât really realized it yet.
I hope everyone enjoyed that! I had a lot of fun with it! Thereâs going to be more of this in the future, so if yâall wanna make sure you donât miss the updates and whatnot, follow the âof moments in life auâ tag.
Iâll see you all in the next fic. Until next time, friends!