Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The air is thick on the surface of Clemency. Before Tarn is a vast battlefield abandoned, rusting frames of thousands of Decepticons lie scattered across the horizon, remaining in their position almost like immortalized statues of the destruction this war has caused. Poetically ironic given it's the moment where they approached the end of their mortal lives that have been mostly preserved, the rust only beginning to gnaw into their internal systems. Tarn is filled with a sense of melancholy, almost. How far the war has gone. He will admit though, the view is pretty wonderful despite the dark, dusk atmosphere.

Had their soldiers been stronger, maybe this wouldn't have gone for as long as it had. It's almost an apathetic view but Tarn believes that's the truth. The air feels almost somber as he takes in the sight.

“And that's another one.” Kaon mutters, another name crossed off The List. Some cowardly deserter really thought he could hide in the ruins of the battle he ran from. How shameless. Kaon sighs out as he goes through The List, datapad in servo; Helex and Tesarus are chatting off and Vos seems to be interested in the desecrated corpses of their own. Probably for his dissection table, no doubt. Tarn doesn't care, he continues to stare into the horizon. Pondering the future of the Decepticon Cause when a loud scream erupts from where Vos was digging around for organs, the sharpness of which startled them all, Tarn included.

He’s slightly annoyed and all of them immediately walk over to Vos who looks terrified.

“What are you screaming for?” Tarn scowls, the last thing he wanted was one of his own unit members to scream like cowards. Vos points at the pile of bodies uncharacteristically terrified, his crimson optics widened as he rambles out in Primal Vernacular. Despite the faceguard, the distress was apparent from his optics alone.

“T̷̡̧̬̲̭̦̘̩̊̉͛̓̓̌͌̕ḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ b̸̼̋͛̑͆̈́͗̿̅ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅd̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘i̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝s̴̹̀̎̇͗̍͗̾̋̏̈͐͒̕͠͠ͅ ǎ̴̯̀͠r̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ m̵̢͕̫̓̔͑̊̈ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅṽ̵͇̟̺̣͓̰̭̲̼̻̪̩̰͒̓̿̄̾̔̊͝ͅi̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝ǧ̷̡̟̲̹̩̱͉̮̭͇͚̮̖̟̽̓͊̔̓̕!”

Offline frames are supposed to stay immoble. This was not a normal reaction from Vos. A small purple glow emanates from Tarn’s fusion cannon as it loads just in case, better safe than sorry. Though, he seriously doubts it's worth their concern.

“It could be just a scraplet.” Helex frowns, Vos’ reaction seems out of proportion and Tesarus nods in agreement. They always warn Vos that there's going to be scraplets… Vos stiffens a little, slightly offended as he turns to face Helex because he's more than well aware that it's a jab at him. Last time, Vos had one stuck inside his systems. It was not very pleasant for him and the team to say the least. Tarn shoots a nasty glare at Vos through the slits of his mask at the memory. He swears, sometimes his team was just reckless and silly despite being infamous mass murderers.

Kaon scans for any signals that indicate spark signatures other than the five of theirs and… there's a spark signature, faint but present. Originating from the pile of bodies Vos yelped from.

“Actually, there's a spark signature.” Kaon wastes no time in informing Tarn who's somewhat surprised beneath the mask. How does one manage to get themselves stuck beneath a literal stack of dead bodies?

Soon enough, Helex and Tesarus are working on moving partially rusted frames from the heap of bodies like they weighed nothing, with heavy distaste as their servos come in contact with dried up energon, they preferred it fresh and warm; much better to feel. Tarn scans thoroughly, perhaps, there could've been another cowardly traitor that had joined alongside the now offline Runamuck.

But what Tarn sees shocks him and the others. There it is, a small little frame. The poor thing looks crushed. A tiny Decepticon insignia on its erratically heaving chassis. Helex and Tesarus stop hauling away offline, partially rusted frames. They would feel relieved at the prospect of not having to get anymore rust flakes on their frames but they too are very stunned, not expecting to see a newly-built of all things stuck under the rubble of offline frames in an abandoned Decepticon graveyard.

All of them exchange glances while the little one lets out shallow vents, as if the poor thing was compressed. Tarn looks at the tiny purple insignia once again and is reminded that this little one is a Decepticon. Not a deserter or a traitor. A tiny little thing that's somehow just surviving… likely, all by itself… out here… in a desolate battlefield scattered with offline frames… His faceplates soften a little, for the first time in forever, beneath his mask as he stares deep in thought at the little Decepticon.

For the first time, the DJD has no clue on what to do. Kindness was not something they professed. But they had a sense of duty, being Decepticons; to ensure the future of their Cause. They all look at Tarn for any idea on what to do, but even he, deep down, is unsure. But the strength of the Decepticons lies in its internal administration and what good is the internal administration if it ignores the cries of those who would carry its future?

This was not merely an issue of pragmatism. It would reflect the Decepticons as a whole, or so Tarn feels.

“...we need Nickel.”

Immediately, all five of them move towards their ship, The Peacefully Tyranny. Helex holds the newly-built, trying to be as careful as he can but that proves to be a challenge for the far from gentle giant as he walks, the other four DJD members crowded alongside him. Looking at the heaving sparkling with uncertainty, curiosity and even a bit of worry. These psychopaths never have really been in a situation like this, let alone been near a sparkling. Kaon faintly remembers speaking to a few in idle playful chatter before the war, Tesarus can count the number of newly-builts he's seen on one servo and Vos has never seen one, period. Their optics are fixated on the little thing in Helex’s servos, his lower, smaller pair of servos holding onto the little one as well; Helex fears he might crush the thing. They look fascinated; curious optics in awe at how frail new life was. All but Tarn, who is not accustomed to the uncertain conflict that rages on in his processor.

“How did it even get itself in there…?” Kaon mumbles to himself, musing about how such a frail little thing could've possibly ever ended up under a pile of bodies.

“T̷̡̧̬̲̭̦̘̩̊̉͛̓̓̌͌̕ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅ ḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝i̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅd̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝?”

Vos thinks that the newly-built may have felt their presence and so, could have taken refuge that ended up being inconvenient for the little thing.

“Who cares about that? We need to make sure this little thing isn't going to offline on us.” Tesarus mutters, looking at the sparkling. Their plates rattling as it tries to vent properly. Helex can feel how warm its little frame is, frowning a bit and speeds up his pace, the others having no issue catching up.

Meanwhile, Tarn is lost in his own thoughts. The sparkling is Decepticon manufactured. He can see the serial number painted on its tiny frame and the little purple badge on its chassis. He might’ve found it oddly cute in a different circumstance, perhaps. But the questions swirl in his helm.

How in the name of all things Decepticon did a newly built find themselves on Clemency? An abandoned battlefield. There's nothing more than death here. How did it survive for so long? What did it even fuel on? How old was it? More importantly, how did it live with such a tiny little frame…? It's so fragile! Tarn barely remembers back when he was fresh off the manufacturing unit. Was he once this pathetic too? The thought is almost alien to the leader of the DJD.

The thoughts continue to whirl in all of their processors as they finally make it to the entrance rampway of The Peaceful Tyranny, moving towards the medbay in haste. Vos and Kaon continue to theorize about what could've possibly happened. Tesarus looks a bit worried, this isn't the usual routine after all. The three of them stand outside the medbay for now. They peep in and watch, listening closely. Helex meanwhile, stands in the medbay with Tarn as they watch Nickel examine the clearly injured newly built.

Now that neither of them were carrying it, they've come to realize that the sparkling is actually… a tad bit taller than Nickel. Vos probably would've said something snarky about it and Helex definitely would’ve chuckled but neither chooses to comment from where they stood, the air filled with tension.

“You know, you guys bringing back a newly built is the last slagging thing I could've ever expected…” The foul mouthed medic mutters out as she expertly works on the little one's small frame. The little one lays on one of the medical berths as Nickel moves with calculated precision, having to use a stool to really see past the berth in order to work. Helex and Tarn look at each other momentarily. All of them are very well aware of the irony of the situation, they were the last mechs that should be allowed near a sparkling.

“Yes but that… thing is one of us.” Tarn isn't sure what to call it as he points at the tiny purple insignia, Helex merely nods in agreement, lacking anything to add on. Nickel stifles an amused laugh at the way Tarn calls a sparkling as a ‘thing’, still focused on the soldering. A master of multitasking. She wonders how she got along with just out-of-touch and downright insane mechs sometimes.

“Yeah, they've got all the trade marks from a standard Decepticon manufacture unit.” Nickel replies, optical ridges furrowing slightly as she words to untangle wires and fix a clogged ventilation system. Such high unnatural frame temperatures were a standard sign of it and considering the poor thing was beneath literal corpses, Nickel is damn sure the kid probably is infected with a virus after all, they don't exactly give firewall updates on Clemency. “...including the bugs.” She mutters out to herself, making sure neither of them heard that but Tarn raises an optical ridge beneath his mask; however, before he could question her by what she meant, a thought strikes Nickel.

“...what are you guys going to do after they wake up?” She asks, looking at the two of them and… Tarn freezes for a moment, what he was about to ask hitting a screeching halt and Helex stiffens. This truly was something he had no idea on what to do. It would appear neither of the DJD had any foresight on what to do next. Helex looks at Tarn, understandable since he is their leader but Tarn does not dare to look back at all. Infact, he wishes Helex wouldn't look at him for this.

“That… will be decided shortly.” Tarn leaves the medbay, signalling Helex to follow. Nickel shrugs and goes back to repairs, the sparkling letting out a sound almost akin to a glitchy cough. Poor thing, Nickel feels. Sighing out words of comfort, she can see the terror in their optics.

“We need to make a decision about the sparkling, now.” Tarn would've unanimously taken a choice himself but… he honestly has no clue what to do here. The urgency is present in his tone as all the other three perk their helms up to Tarn, Helex standing nearby him.

“I say we drop them off at the nearest training facility.” Tesarus says, it is a rather logical choice but…

“The nearest MTO facility is lightyears away and if we go that far, we'll lose our trail on Overlord.” Kaon frowns as he speaks. Flickers of annoyance are hidden beneath Tarn's mask at the mention of that wretched designation.

“T̷̡̧̬̲̭̦̘̩̊̉͛̓̓̌͌̕ḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅǎ̴̯̀͠r̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠ǧ̷̡̟̲̹̩̱͉̮̭͇͚̮̖̟̽̓͊̔̓̕ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅ i̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅs̴̹̀̎̇͗̍͗̾̋̏̈͐͒̕͠͠ͅ m̵̢͕̫̓̔͑̊̈ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅr̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ i̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅm̵̢͕̫̓̔͑̊̈p̴̩͙̺̩͓̣͈͖̎ͅŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅr̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅǎ̴̯̀͠ǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅ.”

Vos adds onto Kaon's point. Overlord was a high priority target, they were all aware of that.

“Agreed. But it's not like the DJD can keep a sparkling on board.” Helex huffs, optics narrowing slightly at Kaon. Keeping a kid onboard the The Peaceful Tyranny was a stupid idea. Newly-builts are curious and none of the rooms on their ship are exactly suitable for the little one. Not only that but it's not typical of their reputations to keep a sparkling onboard.

“Are you saying we should risk the possibility of finally getting Overlord for the wellbeing of a sparkling?” Kaon raises an optical ridge, questioning Helex who now has second thoughts on what he had said.

“...fair point.” Helex mutters out. Vos who went silent voices his opinion, his red optics brightening a bit as he finally gets an idea on what to do with their new problem.

“W̵̰̻͍̉̔̅̀̐͐͒͆̒̚ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ s̴̹̀̎̇͗̍͗̾̋̏̈͐͒̕͠͠ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓l̶̬̞͎̖͉̹̝͕̝͖̣̉͆d̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘ s̴̹̀̎̇͗̍͗̾̋̏̈͐͒̕͠͠ͅm̵̢͕̫̓̔͑̊̈ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝l̶̬̞͎̖͉̹̝͕̝͖̣̉͆t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅ i̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅt̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅ! F̵̜̜͎͉̯̜̓͂r̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ s̴̹̀̎̇͗̍͗̾̋̏̈͐͒̕͠͠ͅp̴̩͙̺̩͓̣͈͖̎ͅǎ̴̯̀͠r̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ p̴̩͙̺̩͓̣͈͖̎ͅǎ̴̯̀͠r̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅs̴̹̀̎̇͗̍͗̾̋̏̈͐͒̕͠͠ͅ…”

Vos says, feeling rather proud of himself for racking his processor up for that idea. Helex, Kaon and Tesarus look down at Vos; faceplates in disapproval. But at the same time… something stops them. They can't really put a digit on it either.

“Normally, if it were any other mech…” Kaon mutters out. The others clearly didn't expect a response like that but it wasn't exactly unwelcome. Though, they were disappointed that neither of them thought of such an easy solution.

“In the usual case, yes…” Helex replies, this was not the usual case after all.

“Maybe if it were an Autobot sparkling…” Tesarus mumbles, in thought.

“We could just reprogram it into a Decepticon then.” Kaon sighs, why waste an opportunity to get a new addition like that? Tesarus looks over at Kaon, murmuring out that usual saying; "Once an Autobot, always an Autobot.".

Vos, despite the faceguard, is very clearly frowning, rather agitated by the fruitlessness of this discussion with his peers and even more so, unable to understand why they feel obligated towards a random sparkling they found in the middle of nowhere on Clemency. Crimson optics narrowing a little. They're the DJD! They commit atrocities! It's literally their job too!

“I̸̺̺͎̰̥̜̯̼̮̰͖̜͂͆̿̈́̿̔f̵̢̻͈̫̬̻͔̘̞͈̆̇̍̈̌͊ͅ i̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅt̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅ's̴̹̀̎̇͗̍͗̾̋̏̈͐͒̕͠͠ͅ s̴̹̀̎̇͗̍͗̾̋̏̈͐͒̕͠͠ͅt̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅǎ̴̯̀͠ǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝d̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘i̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝ǧ̷̡̟̲̹̩̱͉̮̭͇͚̮̖̟̽̓͊̔̓̕ i̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ ẃ̸̝̝̰͋͒ǎ̴̯̀͠y̶͔͗ ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅf̵̢̻͈̫̬̻͔̘̞͈̆̇̍̈̌͊ͅ ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓r̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠ d̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘u̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅi̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝s̴̹̀̎̇͗̍͗̾̋̏̈͐͒̕͠͠ͅ, ẃ̸̝̝̰͋͒ḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝y̶͔͗ m̵̢͕̫̓̔͑̊̈u̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓s̴̹̀̎̇͗̍͗̾̋̏̈͐͒̕͠͠ͅt̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅ ẃ̸̝̝̰͋͒ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ b̸̼̋͛̑͆̈́͗̿̅ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅt̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝r̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠?”

Vos argues, Tesarus clears his vocalizer.

“Because that sparkling is a Decepticon. It isn't a traitor. It's probably too young to even know what counts as treachery. We are the Justice Division. What Justice is there in killing one of our own simply because of their presence being a mild inconvenience?” Tesarus retorts. Vos looks down for a moment, not wanting to admit that Tesarus had a very good point there. They were cruel, they were the DJD but that cruelty was supposed to be reserved to those who truly deserved it. They all go silent for a moment, they've discussed enough amongst themselves now. They turn to Tarn as their final beacon of… not hope, Tarn never gave hope but their beacon of ‘knowing what the frag to do right now’.

Tarn thinks hard about all the points they have presented. All of their helms glued on him. As their leader, he's the one that gets the finalizing vote. The sparkling should probably go with more… sane bots but then, they'd risk losing track of Overlord. They can't kill a sparkling. Megatron did give strict orders not to involve themselves with those not on The List and as far as Tarn was concerned, newly-builts never showed up on The List. But… if they kept the sparkling, they could perhaps raise a strong Decepticon… After all, it survived on the wastelands of Clemency all by its lonesome without hardly any weapons other than the tiny handgun blaster that's out of charge that they found clenched so tightly in its little servos. Anticipation floods the air as he continues to think.

The idea of moulding a Decepticon… an eternally loyal Decepticon…

There is a lot of appeal to that prospect.

“The sparkling is to stay.” Tarn sighs out, making a decision everyone seems to have mixed opinions on. Kaon seems happy, Vos let's out a frustrated groan, Tesarus looks as unsure as ever and Helex is... well, he's rather indifferent to it.

But the real issue was informing their wonderful medic about this...

Chapter Text

“They'll be awake within an arc, tops.” Nickel sighs out as she exits the medbay to see the team and they're waiting right outside— Vos sits down on the floor as Kaon, Tesarus and Helex lean on the wall; Tarn stands straight, looking somewhat impatient but it's hard to tell with the mask. It looks like The Pet noticed the commotion and decided to join in from whatever demonic activities that spawn of Mortilius was busy with when everyone else was minding their own business… laying down right by Kaon as he pets it gently. Thankfully, it seems to be very docile right now, tired maybe; its optics looked heavy as if it were going into recharge from Kaon’s gentle ministrations. Maybe Kaon hadn't fuelled the thing yet… They didn't take The Pet with them to Clemency, purely because they did not want The Pet to be anywhere near corpses and that place was a graveyard.

Nickel has to stop herself from gagging (she didn't even know she could) at the thought of how she had to get rid of a nasty rust infection the last time that happened with The Pet. Regardless, right now there were more pressing matters than that monstrosity.

The expert medic is done with her world class repairs (rated by Tarn himself), dusting off her servos as all five now wait outside the medbay. She feels somewhat… disturbed if anything. Odd considering she's been with the DJD for a long time now, long enough for such feelings to be usual but… From her examination, she could tell the sparkling was merely a few human months or so old. The wiring within its chassis was not worn or torn in the slightest, the interior of its frame was in relatively pristine condition, especially compared to some of her teammates.

And from the damage on the poor thing’s frame, she could tell that it had been on Clemency for a couple of months. The rust flakes and dried up energon solidified in the crevices of their frame's exterior, the result of a filthy environment. They were absolutely dirty, no wonder why Tarn hesitated to hold the little one himself. She ran a system diagnostic just in case for any chances of a virus affecting its programming only to find out they never had its firewall updated, ever. That… concerned her deeply.

It meant that someone had quite literally dumped this sorry sparkling into Clemency right after it was made. All by itself. All alone. New life left without guidance or resources in a planet ridden with Decepticon corpses. It was a harrowing thought. How did it survive? Who would do that? Why would they do that? What sort of sick frag does something like that?

Maybe they should run the little one’s serial number in their systems to check. Then they'd have some sort of information regarding this mystery, she makes a mental note to ask Tarn but knowing him, there's a high chance he already did so.

The situation of the sparkling is rather mysterious and dire, Nickel couldn't help but wonder what they had to go through to end up so battered… so young and frail. She knocks the thought out of her helm as soon as it enters, she has a couple of idiots to address right now.

“Now, there’s a few good things but there's bad news with it.” Nickel cranes her helm to look up at the five behemoths before her. The minibot is used to the pain in her neck supports at this point, craning her way to see their faceplates. All of their EM fields radiate curiosity and a strange sense of worry, anxiousness almost. It's not the typical aura but again, this situation was far from typical on The Peaceful Tyranny.

“Go on with the good news first.” Tarn commanded, he convinced himself that he cares little to nothing about the sparkling, he only cared because it was one of them. The anticipation from them all builds up tension at the moment.

“Okay, so the newly-built is fine, physically. Their motor systems are intact. At best, their stabilizers might feel sore. They can move fine. The large dent in their chassis from the compression is fixed. Vents are all cleared.” Nickel announces, there's an odd sense of relief in the faces of the DJD. A few sighs escaping some of them. Though, Tarn remains ambiguous, solely due to the mask.

“...what about the bad news?” Helex asks, not as relieved as the rest yet. Though his faceplates do not betray him, upholding up that ideal Decepticon stoicism his position required him to display. Tarn leans down a bit to relieve Nickel, considerate to the minibot and the others thwr were leaning on the wall quickly follow suit but it merely serves to piss Nickel off, it felt somewhat insulting. She grimaces with annoyance but pushes aside her feelings for now as she continues with the sparkling. Her neck supports do feel a little better now that she doesn't have to crane half as much to the crouched down mechs so she's somewhat grateful. Not like she's going to comment on it.

“Well, the kids got a few firewall breaches. I've updated their programming for the most part so it shouldn't have too much of an impact. But most importantly, their vocalizer is glitched out. It'll take a while for them to talk.” Nickel huffs out in layman's terms, conveniently leaving out the fact that there's a solid chance the sparkling didn't know how to talk. If her hunches about the little thing being all alone for most, maaybe even all their miserable life was true then it's most likely that their speech-development process was stagnant. Isolation at such delicate stages of life can repress speech protocols, it isn't unheard of. Cybertronian systems did throw out unused code. Unless the kid was talking to corpses and if that was the case, at least they'll get along well with the DJD.

“...so we can't interrogate.” Kaon mutters, inconsiderate to whatever sufferings the sparkling may have suffered. Looks like he and Vos will have to muse themselves with nothing more than their wild theories. So many unanswered questions about their mysterious little house guest.

“Like Pit you can, I suggest you don't speak of Clemency to them, at all.” Nickel mutters, whatever they endured on Clemency had to have been nothing short of traumatic. It would be best to not mention it at all, for a while at least. Kaon nods begrudgingly in compliance, though it's Vos’ compliance that Nickel truly sought. That little aft was as cavalier as they came.

"Ś̸͙̺̥̰̯͙̭͆̏͂ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅ l̶̬̞͎̖͉̹̝͕̝͖̣̉͆i̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅk̵̘̺̦͉͖̪̪͖͉͊̆̔́̈́̍̃̈́͒̂̑̀̚͜͝ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ ǎ̴̯̀͠ s̴̹̀̎̇͗̍͗̾̋̏̈͐͒̕͠͠ͅt̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅt̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝r̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠?"

Vos asks, helm slightly tilted to the side in curiosity as he remains seated on the floor. Even then, he's taller than Nickel.

"Somewhat." She mutters. The newly built will without a doubt have some sort of issue, though it's a little too early to tell. But now, she could finally ask what she'd been thinking the whole time she had been working on the little one as none of the others seemed to have any questions.

“More importantly, what are you planning on doing with ‘em?” Nickel questions their course of action, raising an optical ridge, her tiny servos on her hipstruts as she waits for an answer.

All of them are looking right at Tarn, of course Tarn has to be the one to say this to Nickel but a part of him wishes he didn't have to. But in the end, he's their leader and he can't disappoint their hopeful faces. As their leader, he has to be the one to hear a mouthful from Nickel. With a heavy sigh, he decides to break the news to her, she won't take it too badly… Hopefully.

“We are going to keep… it.” Tarn says, his velvety voice lacking its usual confidence, as if he himself isn't sure about it. Nickel’s azure optics widen into dinner plates. The servos on her hipstruts immediately falling to her sides.

“...come at me again?” She asks, there's no fragging way. The minibot had to make sure what she heard was right, she had to make sure her audios didn't just glitch out or something. Tarn just grunts a little, somewhat annoyed at having to repeat himself.

“I said, we are going to keep the sparkling.” Tarn repeats himself, his voice with a more aggressive and stern edge though Nickel remains somewhat unfazed by it purely because of how utterly shocking that declaration was. He hadn't used ‘The Voice’, perhaps that's why it lacked the usual immediate response.

“So then… we're… going to fraggin… co-parent? All six of us? Adopt? Or like… is it just your own?” Nickel speaks up what she felt it was like, astonishment on her faceplates and her usually aggressive tone somewhat softer. The following immediate aversion to the term ‘parent’ was almost comical and would've gotten a good laugh out of anyone watching; Vos looked down at the floor almost immediately, Helex just gave out a tired heavy ex-vent, Tesarus’ derma pursed into a thin line as one of his servos rests on the back of his neck supports, Kaon clenched his jaw hinges a bit from cringing as if he was trying not to recoil away and Tarn… Tarn just leaned back for a moment, baffled beneath his mask. Vos mutters something incoherent in Primal Vernacular.

Parenting was not a very open-discussion subject, sensitive if anything. It wasn't exactly something mechs like them would ever partake in. Not to mention, most of them likely didn't have the luxury of tender parenting back on Pre-War Cybertron. It isn't very common to raise sparklings; whether it was before the war given the economic situation or now, given there is currently a war.

It sort of… did sound like parenting now that Tarn thought about it but as much as he wanted to deny it… It was literally what they were doing. They were basically adopting. The leader of the DJD quickly recomposed himself, clearing his vocalizer. Embarrassingly enough, Tarn realizes the sheer improvidence of his decision. He couldn't be blamed either, this wasn't the sort of thing he's dealt with. He’s done heists with Orion Pax, lived as a fugitive in the Jhaxian Academy, worked as a warden in one of the worst prison camps on Cybertron… none of the aforementioned activities had ever brought him near something even remotely close to parenting. He would never take in a sparkling then or now, mostly because he didn't know the first thing on what to do with one but he would never admit that. He'd be damned if he had to take care of one by himself.

“No… No, no, no, no! Dear Nickel, that is not what we intend to do-” Tarn gives out a wry chuckle, a thin veil for his clear uncertainty only to be interrupted by the understandably skeptical minibot. From his tone, it's evident he intended this to be a group project which makes Vos mutter even more incoherent curses in Primal Vernacular.

“Then what the frag are we going to do with ‘em?” Nickel questions, tone as confused as ever. Tarn can feel the weight of everyone's optics locked on him and for the first time, he genuinely finds it suffocating.

“We are merely going to… guide the sparkling in its… Decepticon heritage. A future soldier.” He struggles to word it properly, to word it in a manner where it doesn't make it look like anything parenting related but fails in his desperation. In short; bullshitting his way through this. Tarn is more than well aware that's basically a part of parenting but he sincerely hopes by the name of Megatron that for once, his team is stupid enough to just leave it at that. Tarn is not a parent. His fearsome team are not parents either. Parenting is soft. He is anything but soft and The same goes for his team.

“...isn't that basically-” Helex hushes Tesarus with a glare before he could mumble the rest out, more than well aware that their leader is not exactly in a very good state of mind. Helex was quiet and so it paid him well. The signs of Tarn’s annoyance was something the crew had learnt; navigating through his outbursts and tantrums. The daggers Tarn stares at Tesarus is enough to make the walking talking shredder realise he would be making a mistake if he went on, going mum as he looks away in obvious fear of his Commanding Officer.

“I expect everyone to cooperate.” Tarn adds on to their dismay and from the painfully fake cheeriness in his tone, they could all tell he was not going to allow anyone to back off from this. The atmosphere is suddenly gloomy now.

So basically, they were going to be caretakers. Whether they liked it or not.

…yay.

The room is eerily silent now. Nickel feels it's unfair that she's roped into this. Vos is less than pleased for more than obvious reasons, Tesarus is not sure on what to feel, Kaon is conflicted, Helex continues to pretend to be non-chalant and quiet though he’s also pretty skeptical about this. Even Tarn himself is uncertain despite how he makes it seem. All of their EM fields are a fix of confusion, uncertainty, bitterness and trepidation however, they manage to keep it to themselves.

“Okay… but does any of you even know how to manage one?” Nickel asks, carefully picking her words. Anything that showcases softness might only rile Tarn up even more, avoiding the specific phrase ‘taking care of’ for her own sake.

Tarn again goes silent, looking at Nickel. Finally, a question he actually saw coming. A slight sheepishness behind his mask, concealed skillfully from his team who fails to see this as they surmise Tarn is in a terrible mood which he honestly somewhat was beginning to get there with this whole sparkling thing…

“Well, I-... We were wondering if you would have some pointers.”

They're all looking down at the minibot with hope, except maybe Vos who still partially feels like they should just throw the little thing away into a landfill or something. A lot more economically feasible during wartime in his humble opinion. Tarn has a rather smug smile behind his mask though his body language tries to make it look like he's pleading.

"You guys think just because I'm a medic, I know a slaggin' thing about sparklings!?!?!?"

There's the expected outburst Tarn also saw coming a mile away. Vos continues to merely sit there, taking slight sadistic amusement in Nickel's frustration as he lets out a quiet dry chuckle, trying to be discreet in his attempt to mock the medic; he did not want to be her subject of tirade. Vos almost immediately stops when he sees Nickel looking at him, pretending to clear his vocalizer as if he wasn't secretly getting a good laugh.

"...Yes." So simple, straightforward, direct and eloquent; Tarn did hesitate but truly, what else could he have said? Nickel's helm immediately snaps back to Tarn's direction, she looks like she's Megatron and Optimus just got the matrix of leadership instead of him. As if she were about to explode from frustration. The entire team prepares themselves to hear an explosive rant from Nickel, coloured with crass vocabulary and insecurity inducing takes. But to their pleasant surprise, she just... let's out a very deep ex-vent, a genuinely frustrated sigh. Of course she has to be the one to handle this mess… she always has to clean their messes… why do they burden her like this??? Inconsiderate slagging pieces of- She just looks down for a moment to calm herself and back at the DJD.

“...unbelievable. All of you.”

Chapter Text

You stir from your temporary stasis on the medical berth, a result of six distinct voices disturbing your rest from outside… wherever you are. The voices were odd. Nothing like the silence of Clemency you were so used to now. The sounds are similar to the ones you heard when you saw a large thing in the sky, it startled you; unnaturally sharp voices and some soothing… others low but all spouting gibberish— you couldn't comprehend what they spoke. All you know is that your frame hurts and you are somewhere strange. The bright lights from the ceiling, it's unnaturally bright. Your sensitive optics struggle to adjust to it as you slowly rise, gently turning onto your side from laying down on your back. You sit up and…

Where are you?

A small panic swells up in you. Why does your frame hurt? You distinctly remember the face of a mech with red lines on his faceplates and some purple mech with a funny expressionless face looking at you.

But the room.. it feels oddly nice. It's cold in an enjoyable way. Your optics scan the room and it's many berths. These are comfortable to lay down on. Nothing like Clemency. The floor is so clean. The ceilings look nice too. Curious optics observing every detail on the ceiling, almost awestruck. Your intake is agape.

What an unnaturally beautiful place.

You decide to get on your pedes, slowly. Gasping a bit, your stabilizers feel so wobbly but you manage to get your balance. Slow steps turning into gentle strides. Unyielding curiosity telling you to run around and see more, even if your frame hurts. Even if your HUD has some funny red blinking. What does it say? Who knows. So many funny symbols to stare at. Your servos run over the material of the berth. It's a nice feeling, everything here feels nice. It's not like the rough rocks on the surface of Clemency or the funny looking statues of bots spread across the place with strange reddish-brown flakes on them. Maybe someone put you there thinking you’re a statue, that's what you always thought because something in you kept telling you that you weren’t from that strange place, although it's the only place you knew.

You continue to touch and feel whatever you can. You see a tray with a lot of metal things, tools. Almost like what some of those statues on Clemency had in their servos. Curiously, you hold one of these in your little servo. Figuring out how they work as you pull and push the handles. The metal of it all feels so smooth.. You gently put it back. The berths are hard to climb back onto. Everything in this place was big which didn't make sense because the tools were small. What a funny place.

The noises seem to get louder, gibberish you cannot comprehend ringing through your audials. Servos clutching onto sensitive audios with a frustrated grimace, it caught you off guard. You recover from how startled you are and decide to make your first decision.

You want to see the source of these funny noises and somehow put it on mute.

It's definitely annoying you, the small grimace on your derma as you walk up with misplaced confidence to the entrance of the large room with many nice surfaces, likely to lay down on. Peeking through a corner.

All that confidence you had deflated near instantly.

These mech were HUGE. They weren't statues but they were moving! And they had so many different shapes and sizes. Definitely menacing looking.

That one has a hole in his chassis! Another one has funny coils on his back and a turbine in his chassis, he has no optics! How unsettling. There's some funny looking animal by his side. The second shortest one has a faceguard. Another one has four arms! Oh, look, someone you're a bit taller than… A bit relieving.

Both wonder and fear grips your spark, they intimidate you but heighten your curiosity all the more. You peek and watch, unable to understand what it is they speak of but intrigued by these strangers and their strange appearances, despite the intimidating aura that emanates from them. They look nothing like the statues. They move like you do. Your presence remains undetected as you watch them.

As they remain blissfully unaware of the little spectator, the five members and the unofficial medic continue bickering amongst themselves over the basics. Can the sparkling stay in your own hab? If not, who's hab is the little thing going to stay in? What in Megatron’s name are they going to fuel you with? Who's going to educate the newly-built? Tarn can't expect a supersoldier from scratch. The DJD was not dealing with a MTO here.

There were a lot more complexities than he'd like to admit there were.

It started off as a civil conversation, like all of their scuffles do. Until Vos said that the little one should be in Helex's hab which had everyone collectively yelling no. It is the last place for a sparkling. In fact, none of their rooms are fit for a sparkling. All of their rooms have some or the other kind of torture devices, weapons, traps that look like they came out of SAW (credits to Vos)... All except Tarn and Nickel. Nickel's room was too small and she backed off saying she's the one that has to teach the rest of the crew how to tend to a sparkling despite being none the wiser. It wouldn't be fair.

All optics are now on Tarn who, in all honesty, hates the thought of having to share his space with anyone. The lack of torture devices in the DJD leader's hab was solely because he claimed himself to be a more ‘sophisticated and superior mech’ which clearly has brought an unexpected issue for a totally unpredictable situation.

But of course, he was not going to cave in so easily. Leadership be damned. He's supposed to be the mature one. Supposed to.

And that's how the six of them ended up here bickering— each of them presenting and listing a hundred reasons to each other as to why you, the sparkling, shouldn't be with them, as if this was a court case and they were all on trial, as vehemently as one does when fighting against having to pay child support.

“No way in Pit! That little thing is NOT going to be in my hab. What if I squish it on accident?” Helex is adamant, he does not want to lose his cannibal-cooler privileges. Probably the one time they don't need to prize a response out of his vocalizer.

“Then you should just watch where you step because it's certainly not going to be in mine, I already have The Pet!” Kaon scoffs, servos crossing over his chassis, standing on his own ground and as if The Pet could read its master's processor, it nuzzles itself against his pede to prove a point. Kaon looks down and flashes the sparkeater an almost warm smile for a moment and a definite smug one to the others as he looks back at them.

“Doesn't count. You asked to keep The Pet!” Tesarus snaps back. Was it truly a burden for him if he literally asked to keep it? Kaon grimaces. Meanwhile, Vos keeps to himself. Still somewhat salty about being shut down so quickly after trying to be a minor inconvenience to Helex's life

“M̶̧͚̪͉̯̜̰͎̘̀͋̇̀͗̍́͆̑̏͂̿̊̚i̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅd̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘ǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝i̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅǧ̷̡̟̲̹̩̱͉̮̭͇͚̮̖̟̽̓͊̔̓̕ḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅ s̴̹̀̎̇͗̍͗̾̋̏̈͐͒̕͠͠ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝ǎ̴̯̀͠c̵̛̥͊k̵̘̺̦͉͖̪̪͖͉͊̆̔́̈́̍̃̈́͒̂̑̀̚͜͝ f̵̢̻͈̫̬̻͔̘̞͈̆̇̍̈̌͊ͅŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅr̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ m̵̢͕̫̓̔͑̊̈u̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅt̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅ?”

Vos mumbles to himself, almost as if the thought was amusing to him. What a way it would be to go out. He's not even included in this conversation about a potential roommate for… obvious reasons.

“Ah yes, keep a newly-built in a room with a half-tamed spark-chewing turbofox. Genius.” Nickel scowls, tone dripping with sarcasm as the minibot rolls her blue optics. She probably would've slapped them if it weren't for the frame she had. Kaon looks a bit offended, a servo over the generator within his chassis. The voices merely overlap each other and Tarn's thin patience gets thinner than Rodimus’ waistline. Perhaps in another world, they were Megatron's lawyers instead of enforcers. Their leader gets more agitated.

“I can assure you that The Pet isn't half-”

“ENOUGH.” Tarn bellows, his voice a low pitch. His outlier ability activates on instinct from his frustration reaching a near bubbling point.

You don't know what happened or how it happened but your chassis suddenly hurts, even more than it already does. Your spark feels heavy, your stabilizers feel weak, it makes you fall into your knee hinges, tiny servos grasping the floor. Unwittingly putting yourseIf away from the wall you were peeking out of. It's a sharp pain unlike any other, it goes as fast as it came but it makes you let out a choked cry from just how much it aches, high pitched and loud.

As the pain goes away, you stand back up. But apparently, your cry was loud enough for all six to crack their neck supports to look at you, optics all wide. They're caught off guard for once. You meet their surprised faceplates and instinctively stiffen, frame poised. Servos placed in a near defensive position. You feel some sort of embarrassment mixed in with the natural fear of the unknown.

Meanwhile, all six of them had the exact same thought.

‘What the frag should they do now?’

All of them were so caught up in thinking about the future, namely what they had to do after you woke up and your life from that point on that they forgot to consider what they should do when you wake up. Not to mention, Nickel didn't think you'd wake up so quickly considering the damage on your frame, definitely stronger than you looked.

The Pet lets out something akin to a bark, a sharp, screeching robotic bark and it makes you step back. The fear growing on your distressed faceplates. All of them collectively snap out of their temporary state of ‘what the frag do we do?’.

“Hush.” He quietly keeps The Pet behaved, it lets out a low whine and goes behind its master's stabilizers as if it were keeping away from your sight.

For once, they seem to take no pleasure at all in another's fear. Evident by how cautiously Tarn moves towards you, as if he were approaching a mech infected with the Rust Plague. He takes initiative.

Mindlessly, others follow.

And, well, seeing six strangers (five of which are huge) along with some sort of animal following behind is not the most friendly welcome. Especially to a newly-built who's gone through Primus knows what. The building trepidation heightens, ans you take a step back. Away from the approaching strangers. The alarms go off in Tarn's helm. Perceptive enough to see you feel somewhat intimidated but failing to see what your frame is screaming at you to do.

“Now, wha-” Before he could even finish or come anywhere remotely close to you, you make a dash for it with a frightened cry.

The six of them stand there silently, The Pet sitting behind Kaon. They definitely did not expect that. Or expected you to be that fast.

“...T̷̡̧̬̲̭̦̘̩̊̉͛̓̓̌͌̕ḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ǎ̴̯̀͠t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅ ḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ǎ̴̯̀͠s̴̹̀̎̇͗̍͗̾̋̏̈͐͒̕͠͠ͅ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅ c̵̛̥͊ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓ǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅ ǎ̴̯̀͠s̴̹̀̎̇͗̍͗̾̋̏̈͐͒̕͠͠ͅ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅr̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ǎ̴̯̀͠s̴̹̀̎̇͗̍͗̾̋̏̈͐͒̕͠͠ͅŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝, ǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅ?”

Vos cracks his helm at Tarn's way who internally curses himself for his lack of consideration with an exasperated sigh. The frustration getting worse, this was the biggest helmache he's had in vorns. He's not had a solarcycle this bad for a long time now. Usually, the perfectionist leader of the DJD is never underprepared or sloppy at a task. Funny how the simpler things are where his team seems to struggle with. Of course it would be that frightening… Primus knows how long it's been since you've seen another alive mech.

“...we need to find the newly-built. Spread out and search.”

There's loud groaning from everyone in response.

Chapter Text

You’re not sure where you are but you ran as soon as you saw the mech with a purple mask approach you. Tall and intimidating, he's bigger than most of the statues back… at that place. You were certain he was a threat from just how fearsome he looked; while you may have not known anything about this strange new world you are put into, your instincts never falter. In fact, surviving out alone only seemed to have made them more prominent. The long corridors you run through feel endless, cold and clean in a near pristine way that you've never really seen before. The floor is sparkling clean, the walls are kind of bland, regular metallic grey The ventilation system and air condition making the place so much colder than you're used to...

Now that you think about it, your frame looks pretty clean too. In a way it's never been. You can almost see your reflection with how shiny the plating on your arms and stabilizers are. You're afraid you might go blind from it.

But you have bigger things to worry about than your reflection. You've run around this place and every hallway seems nearly identical to every other, a giant maze you're trapped in with no way out in sight. You're lost, it hits you. And you're unsure on what to do, the feeling is almost overwhelming as it settles in. The doors to the room won't open, the funny keypads keep glowing red each time you try to open it by banging some random combination. It's frightening. The sounds, the lights, the mechs… Where were you? You try not to jump at every noise but your keen audio receptors catch up on something. But the heavy, thumping noise you've come to recognise as pede steps spurs fear within your tiny spark.

You look around, tense and poised. Survival protocols kicking in overdrive. There's some sort of funny hole within a wall, big enough for you to fit. A ventilation shaft, not like you really know what it is called but you attempt to climb up the wall. Pit. The walls are too smooth. Your talons scratch up the pristine metallic walls of the hallway. However, you persist and manage, barely. Crawling up the duct and peeking down below from it, if you were to fall from this height, you'll surely break something. Not like you really thought about that right now as you observe the mech walking into the hallway.

It's the one with four servos! You try not to gasp and succeed at it as you keenly watch the mech, now with a closer view and he looks all the more intimidating. Crimson optics like yours but with these lines going down them, it didn't look very friendly. You stay as quiet as you can.

Meanwhile, Helex is done with this slag. The search so far has been fruitless and he's tempted to sit down and fuel on some energon treats. The desolate halls of The Peaceful Tyranny are loud with silence, everyone has spread out in search of this little miscreant so it's not like Helex would get caught. Though if Tarn did catch him, it wouldn't look too pretty. But could anyone blame him? He gets bored searching for who knows how long now (it's not been that long). Helex stands around, debating on whether or not he should search anymore.

Honest to Megatron, Helex usually takes what his leader says with utmost seriousness— executing Tarn's words with precision and grace. As graceful as an overgrown smelter can be, at least. He is sincere in everything he does for the Decepticon Cause but this has to be the first time in... well, ever where the smelter has drawn the line. They were torturers, executioners, enforcers of the Decepticon Code. Not… sparkling-sitters! They were not caretakers. Neither were they mentor material. And they don't need a psychological analysis to tell them otherwise, the title of ‘DJD’ was enough to convey the sheer depravity they were capable of.

Helex wonders if Tarn even knows what he's actually doing and that's a first. Does he know? Didn't feel like it. But again, everyone in the team is uncertain regarding is decision to keep the thing, he knows that because he can read the room rather well but doubt is unbecoming of a Decepticon. Helex pushes the thought away as it came. The sparkling was a Decepticon, manufactured Decepticon and it's not committed hearsay, blasphemy or broken the code in any way and how is one to expect a newly built to fend for itself after being abandoned on Clemency of all places? He almost feels bad for the thing. Helex wants to punch the irresponsible fragger who's dumped a sparkling there so badly, not for dumping a defenceless, innocent tiny thing like yourself out in a Decepticon graveyard but for putting him and his team in this mess.

Even then… Why do they have to force unwilling participants into Tarn's ‘group parenting’ passion project? Putting aside the fact that Tarn would probably eviscerate him if he asks this to Tarn's faceplates, why in Megatron's name couldn't he just take care of the thing himself if he wanted it that badly!? Why involve Helex? He can't believe it but for the first time, he finds himself agreeing with Vos about dumping the little one into a recycling conveyor. No hard feelings but they aren't cut off for parenting; no matter what fancy label Tarn puts on it, at the end of the solarcycle, it was parenting. Plain and simple.

Kaon__::Helex, come in. Any findings?::

Helex holds back a long sigh as a message from Kaon pings on the mainline DJD comm-link. Thankfully, not his personal line.

Helex__::No.::

Kaon__::Okay.::

Helex didn't like to talk a lot. Simple and short answers were his thing, even if they were a little dry. He was not very sociable, preferred the quiet if anything. It's not that he hated company, he just had his own thing. Though a newly-built was anything but quiet and that did upset him. This whole thing upsets him.

Vos__::Wat iff da spahrkling in wents?::

“Primus…”

Helex sighs out as he looks at the message. Trying to read a message from Vos was like trying to decode ancient Cybertronian. Futile and painful. They don't have a Primal Vernacular language setting update yet for him so he has to message in Neocybex. Not like any of them could really read Primal Vernacular but the translator option helped. In Vos’ usual arrogance, he refused to use the translator when trying to comm them. Not because he wanted to improve his skills at Neocybex but because he said he wanted to be a pain, as usual— Helex suspects that this is just a farce to keep them from assuming that Vos just doesn't know how to spell words in the Neocybex script. But Helex will not be fooled.

He scrunched faceplates as he made sense of what Vos said, spectating the conversation flashing on his HUD.

Tesarus__::I feel as if it's highly unlikely the newly built could climb up into a vent. Given it is injured and needs recovery.::

Kaon__::He's got a point. But who knows what it's capable of? Vos, you should go check the vents for the sparkling.::

Meanwhile, Vos from the eastern hallways of The Peaceful Tyranny looks at the message in utter disgust. Like Pit he would! He loves crawling in the vents when they tell him not to crawl in the vents! He's not doing it for some newly built.

Vos__::Nuh uh! Yuo go! Sned yoru vile, fugly pette!::

Oh. He really went there. Helex snorts, at least Vos seems to understand punctuation.

Kaon__::Ahem. I'll let you know that The Pet is still far more civilized than you will ever be.

Tesarus__::To be fair Vos, you can't even spell pet::

Vos is typing…

Helex knows well from where he's standing that Vos wouldn't comply with that or tolerate Kaon and Tesarus jumping him like this, a small semblance of a smile on his stone cold faceplates as he reads the ensuing argument with glee at Vos’ predicament.

Frag it.

He's got to sit down to read this. This was too good not to miss out on. Comm arguments usually get broken up by a very annoyed Tarn after getting his communicator pinged to oblivion— usually by sending a voice message with his wonderful outlier ability surprising them into quiet submission so this means Helex rarely gets to watch the others bicker, a shame. It makes for good entertainment.

Helex gives in to what he frame desires and takes a seat down in the hall, broad backstruts leaning against the wall. He mindlessly takes a seat right beneath the vent from which you're watching him, unaware of your presence. You're not in range of his motion sensors, even if you were, you're staying deathly still. A skill you've picked up on during your stay on Clemency. Your curious optics observing him from above with intrigue, you can tell he's amused by something with the way he has this smile on his face. You lean in a little closer to study him better.

Oh scrap.

Your tiny servos have damned you, they can't grip much or support your weight as you lean too much to the front while gripping onto the edge of the vent opening, only to fall right on top of Helex's helm and the bigger bot panics with a yelp. Not realizing that it's the very sparkling they've been searching for as he quickly gets up, his weapons systems online as he aims for where he sat. His armed servo dropping down as he realizes there's nothing there.

Oh Primus.

It's on him.

He tries to shake you off. Muttering curses you can't understand, he's still not realized that it's tbe exact same little miscreant he's been searching for this whole time. You yelp and hold onto the top of his helm, your tiny clawing digging in. Helex is… tall. Horrifically so. You feel like you've been chained on top of a rampaging streetlight with no way to get down. And you're not sure what to do.

Meanwhile, Helex stops his erratic movements as he realizes what… no, who's on his helm as tiny servos indent themselves to the metal of his helm. And…

He isn't sure what to do.

He just stands there for a moment. Contemplating his options. Should he message Tarn? Yes. He should. But it's not easy to lean his helm down to see the keypad of his communication with you literally on top of his helm. What if you fall? Nickel did say you're still injured. Not to mention, he is not going to have Tarn going off on him for hours, rambling about Helex being careless if you get hurt.

He's going to have to get you down first.

What a drag.

“Hey, kid.” He says gruffly, there isn't a hint of softness in his tone. His voice is like that of a furnace, deep but somewhat raspy. Maybe it's an effect of his vocalizer constantly heating up when he's in his smelter mode? Helex slowly raises his upper pair of servos up to bring you down but his large servos scare you, you cower down. Using your claws to anchor yourself, you gently crawl down to his back— it annoys and catches him off-guard. You're leaving tiny dents and scratches all over his frame! He's already hearing a mouthful from Nickel about frame maintenance!

“Hey!” There's a scolding tone to his voice, a warning. But it's not like he's allowed to hurt you here and you don't really know that. You can't even understand what he's saying! His voice scares you and you cower further down. Helex’s lower pair of servos have no hope of grabbing you.

The broadness his pauldrons fail him, Helex can't grab you from where you cling on his back like a Koala, his upper pair of larger servos blocked by the bulk of his own frame. Helex will admit, you know how to climb. He turns around and makes note of the wall, covered in small scratch marks— most likely from your tiny servos. You must've clawed your way up the wall to get up there… Helex looks up. That vent is rather high up too.

It's actually… impressive.

But right now he's got bigger things to worry about.

Now, he could just call Tarn. Message him and the others would be sure to follow. But with the way you're holding onto him, Helex is damn sure he looks ridiculous. Besides he could just… Message them through the comms while having you off of him. Perhaps this was some sort of punishment for laughing at Vos because he definitely would've laughed his aft off at this. Speaking of which, Vos and Kaon were still going at it in the group comms— already at 102 unread messages. Tarn must've had his notifications turned off because usually, by now, Tarn would interfere. Or Helex would have enough and beg them to shut up.

Helex sighs heavily. He takes his seat back on the floor, making sure not to lean against the wall lest your stabilizing servos get crushed under his weight. The smelter wouldn't want that and he wouldn't want Tarn breathing down his neck, again..

He thinks, wondering how in the name of Megatron's fusion cannon will he be able to get you off of him. Meanwhile, you curiously climb upwards, peering over his broad shoulders to look at his thoughtful expression.

“Kid, get off.” Helex commands, attempting to be softer but not really succeeding. He's not stupid— He knows you're afraid. He just has to make you… Not afraid of him which isn't proving to be easy given his position required for him to be as intimidating as a Decepticon can be. But intimidation doesn't seem to work with you, it was almost like you couldn't get what he was saying. At all.

Helex grumbles as you don't budge, crimson optics narrowing at you as his dermas purse into a thin line. He looks annoyed. His unfriendly face does nothing to help. Maybe he needed to be even softer.

“Please. Get off.” He swallows his pride quickly but the bitter after taste strikes him as he realizes it was in vain. You hadn't moved an inch. Helex's face hardens in annoyance, he's usually patient but for once, it's wearing thin. Again, its not everyday he has a kid clinging onto him like this...

“Aren't you just stubborn?”

The fact that you can't seem to understand a word leaving his vocalizer doesn't strike the giant smelter as you look at him clueless.

Looks like he's going to have to try a better way. He tries to grab you quickly with his upper pair of servos but Primus, you're fast. You crawl back to that spot on his back he can't reach and Helex grimaces.

He tried verbally, he tried physically... Violence is off the table…

What now?

Helex tries to think of a way. His HUD still flashing with unread messages by Kaon & Vos about the vents and The Pet… wait… The Pet.

A thought strikes him. Whenever The Pet doesn't do something Kaon wants it to do, he gives it an energon mini-cube. This was almost a daily occurrence during the first few solar cycle of his its domestication. While you're certainly not a pet and are capable of sentient thought, certainly you wouldn't turn down an opportunity to have a good energon treat? While he doesn't want to sacrifice them, he also doesn't want to show up with you latching on his back like a baby Koala with its mother.

As he sits down, Helex reaches for his subspace— reserved to keep his quick break snacks and store his trophies from hunts. He takes out a box and he takes note of how the rattling of the box has piqued your curiosity, looking over his shoulder plating to see what he's up to. Helex knows that you've been on Clemency for who knows how long isolated, a planet devoid of any civilisation. And the pinnacle of any civilization is good fuel.

He opens the box and takes out a green coloured cube— refined energon coated in beryllium paste and iron fillings. Helex makes sure that your curious optics are fixated on what he's doing, putting the cube in his intake. The action seemed to confuse you, you tilt your helm and continue to look at him curiously but he can also see the distrust. Helex gently puts one cube right by his shoulder, pretending to not watch as you keep looking at his face. Holding onto his pauldron with one servo and grabbing the other, your pedes lodged into his frame making more dents on his frame.

Your optics dart back to Helex, who's happily refuelling on more. You look back at the cube. The cube looks so much smaller in his giant servos in contrast to your much smaller ones, he can just toss one into his intake and swallow it as such but you'd probably need two bites. Your olfactory sensors can tell this is energon but it's… solid. Not solid in the same way it is on those statues back on Clemency. This isn't sticky or flakes.

And so, you trust your tanks.

And you're not left disappointed.

Helex suppresses a laugh when he sees how your optics widen at the taste of energon treats, quickly gobbling it up like there's no tomorrow. But alas, you're left in disappointment as there no longer any of that sweet metallic tang and crunch on your glossa, looking at your servo where the energon treat once was mere astro-seconds ago with a frown. Helex can't help but chuckle at that. So you liked energon treats, at least the two of you have something in common.

You look at him as you hear the sound of his chuckling, the fear no longer in your optics as you study him almost curiously up close. You can see another one of those delicious cubes in his servos and you try to reach out and grab it before he could stop you but—

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” He clicks his glossa as he shakes his helm, pulling his servo away as your frown gets deeper. A look of pleading in your optics and dare he say, it was… cute. In a way which warmed his spark in a fuzzy sort of way, something he hadn't felt (or was even sure he could feel) in such a long time.

“If you want more, you're going to have to get off.” He says, pointing in front of him to put emphasis and it somehow registers in your processor. Without another word, you climb off of him. You tiny pedes reach the ground and leave Helex’s back in a trail of tiny dents and scratches which he's less than pleased about. Shyly approaching him, you're cautious. Must be your survival protocols, Helex figures.

“Good.” He uses his smaller pair of servos to hand over the cube to your even smaller extended servos, you're standing there like a homeless bot asking for charity— Helex finds some humor in it and smiles, one of his larger servos gently pats your helm. Holy scrap, it envelops your entire helm! He's reminded of how much smaller and fragile you are. He's quick to draw away as a strange sense of… something stirs in his spark.

By then, you're done with that cube, extending your servo out for more. He raises an optical ridge at your action, getting what you want and Helex really didn't like sharing but he supposes he could begrudgingly make an exception for you.

“You got an appetite too, huh?”

Chapter Text

"What?" His tone is low, dangerous, almost daring when he says it--- its not even a question, its a statement because Tarn is convinced now that nothing can go right in his life.

But this does not scare Nickel, not in the slightest. She continues to look up at him, rather confused. Was she hearing this right or was Tarn trying to threaten her? Whats up with that tone? She raises an optical ridge, look at him dead in the optics with a boldness the others could only dream of mustering up in the presence of Tarn. She had a feeling he would take it badly but she’s prepared to deal with him.

“Are your audials glitching?” The medic asks, servos on her hip-struts as her optics narrow at the purple mech in front of her. “I said that there might be a chance the kid doesn’t understand what we’re saying.” She repeats herself flatly as Tarn takes in a deep in-vent.

His dream of an eternally loyal Decepticon might have to wait because his plans keep getting hit with one wall after another, continuously and its barely been a day since the sparkling has been on-board the Peaceful Tyranny. Within that time, the little thing has managed to nearly die on Nickel’s operating table, get lost in the hallways and now he’s being told that there is a chance that you might be functionally mute. How are they going to figure out your name? Do you even have one? How are they going to figure out the mystery behind, in Helex’s words, “the deadbeat slagger” who left you on Clemency?

Will they ever figure it out?

Slag it all, do you even remember how you ended up there?

Tarn can’t do anything other than take a deep in-vent, trying to make sure he doesn’t actually lose it because so far, the ‘sparkling ordeal’ has been agitating. He’s trying his hardest not to get angry… Nickel had specifically warned him about his Nuke dosage exceeding safe levels, an outburst would prove her right. He does not want that… its the last thing he needs to add to his many, many on-going pains.

“Then… how will we manage to get it to talk?” His tone is tired, accepting of his fate as he asks Nickel. She stops to think for a moment.

“Teach them.” She replies, the answer is obvious. Tarn lets out a heavy ex-vent, the situation is ironic in a cruel way— For once, Nickel lacks foresight and Tarn seems to be more considerate.

“You know that won’t work if we tried.”

“I doubt that.”

“Please, Kaon has been trying to teach Vos Neocybex for ages and the only words he’s picked up on so far are profanities.” they never should’ve taken the sparkling in, Tarn feels; had he known the pains of parenthood mentoring earlier…

“...true.”

Suddenly, Tarn has his comms connect live to Helex. Of course he went directly to the audio function instead of text, Tarn rarely opens the text channels and looking at the current 256+ unread messages, Tarn is glad he doesn’t but a part of him wants to beat the sparks out of them for wasting their time like that… they should be prioritizing their current mission! Not-

“Helex, reporting.” Tarn’s train of thought is cut off by the smelter’s gravelly voice.

“Speak.” The usual commanding tone returns to his voice, hiding the disappointment from the news he’d learnt moments prior.

“I found the kid.” Helex responds flatly. For a smelter, he had a more icy and cold stoic presence than anything, it reflects in the way he speaks sometimes. But finally, Tarn had real good news.

“Good work Helex. Return to the main hall… And I suggest you stay away from the text channel. For your safety.” Tarn cuts off the commlink and opens the text channel and he can see that once again, there’s some or the other petty argument unravelling within the confines of the channel. Sometimes he wanted to maul his team. The momentary joy he had from the good news is replace with a much more sour mood.

“Nickel, I need you to disable your audials for a moment.” Nickel has been with the DJD long enough to know that what Tarn said was a warning and she also knew what he was about to do, those sorry sods… She sighs and shuts off her audials, disabling them.

Tarn takes a moment to clear his voice.

“If you insolent fools care to know, Helex has managed to locate the sparkling unlike you torpid space-slugs. Return to the main hall immediately.” His voice goes dangerously low, soft as ever with his outlier abilities packaged in a voice note for the remaining team. All typing ceases and the channel goes dead. Good, Tarn thinks. He doesn’t even bother reading the messages prior.

However, the moment Tarn goes offline from the chat…

Kaon__:: Torpid space-slugs is a new one

Tesarus__:: Unnecessary.

Vos__:: i am goyng to kil elx

Elsewhere, Helex has managed to keep you relatively… not stubborn so far because you’re mindlessly munching your spark away on treats, you’re probably not thinking about anything else right now, thankfully. Though its coming at the cost of his snacks, Helex can live with this just fine. He can get go get some more back at his usual go-to energon stand… and maybe bring you along with him for taste testing. The giant smelter continues to think as his pedes thump against the ground loudly with each step, carrying you in his servos like you’re fine-china and he’s a reckless bull, he just doesn’t trust himself enough to not break something on your frame by pure accident. After he had managed to get you off of him, Helex immediately notified Tarn that he’s managed to locate and capture you and so Tarn said that they should all be at the main hall for a more proper introduction. Whatever the frag that means.

Helex stayed off from the text channel the moment Tarn said what he said, he knew what awaited him and didn’t bother even checking it out. Thinking about it… Helex probably should’ve told all of them instead of just Tarn….

Meanwhile, Tarn is speaking to Nickel about something Vos could really not care about in the slightest. He’s still wondering why they can’t throw away the little bot. The solution is right in front of them! Why can’t his fellow Decepticons see it the way he does? His spark still feels strange from that dose of ‘The Voice’... When Vos gets his hands on that overgrown furnace…! He didn’t even have the decency to let everyone else know first!

As Helex approaches the main hall, the other who were already there, waiting in silence, look at the sight before them…

Vos doubles down in laughter, it sounds like a screech almost, a cackle filled with amusement but its painful to the audials, perhaps maybe almost as much as Tarn’s outlier ability with the was Tesarus jumps at the sudden noise and Kaon chuckles. All of Vos’ prior animosity towards Helex is temporarily sated by how he’s carrying you as if you’ve got the Rust Plague or maybe even radiation sickness, Helex holds you by your pede with you dangling down as you gnaw on the last energon cube sacrificed to you. For some reason, you’re surprisingly pliant like this despite what anyone would’ve thought, maybe its because you have no thoughts… just enjoying Helex’s premium energon. His servo are out-stretched, holding you by the pedes far away from his frame. The size difference is comical, his one servo wraps around both your pedes and then some. It does nothing to help Vos.

“I found them in a vent. The thing can climb, clawed its way up.” Helex replies, seeing nothing wrong with the way he’s held you.

“...” Tarn has nothing to say, he just goes silent as Helex approaches him. You seem to occupied with your fuel to really care, not even a beat of acknowledgement. It confuses & surprises Tarn. You definitely were… unique in a way. Not so much like the usual whiny, crying sparkling he thought you would be. More keen, observant; you have a good intuition. You knew he was dangerous without even knowing anything about him or his team. A strong survival instinct, its a good sign of a soon to be Decepticon. Not to mention you can pull up your weight like that in order to climb. Your potential is undeniable. "Good work Helex."

“That's… impressive for its size.” Kaon mumbles as Tarn realizes there’s claw marks on the walls of his pristine ship and it won’t be easy to clean up, wonderful. Vos’ laughter dies down and the climbing detail registers in his processor, the fact that you can go through the vents means there’s a chance he might lose his go-to substitute corridor… just great.

“YOU BAG OF BOLTS, YOU AREN’T SUPPOSED TO HOLD A KID LIKE THAT!!! GOOD WORK MY AFT.”

It seems Helex can’t do anything right because a very sour Nickel approaches him with a frown so deep, you might think it was trying to dig through the floor of the ship. The sheer aura of a pissed-off Nickel makes everyone turn to look at the minibot as if she were the God of Wrath itself, a glare so hard that would make even the toughest crack into pieces like a glass vase and Tarn wants none of that, he steps away from Helex like its instinct to make way for the medic. No one knows if Vos has an intake behind his face-guard but if he does, he would’ve been smiling wide, gleefully. Helex’s shoulders sulk knowing what's to come. She was so loud that it knocked you out of your trance with the taste of real refined energon and you realize who’s around you.

Oh no.

It was something both you and Helex had registered in your processors.

He took you to them! Of course you couldn’t trust the big bot with lines on his faceplates! You flash a look of betrayal and distress of Helex who fails to pick it up with the looming threat of a angered Nickel. There’s an almost sympathetic look from Tarn as he’s moving away to mind his own business.

“Tess, hold them.” Helex gently hands you over to Tesarus who seemed to know the ‘right’ way to hold a sparkling. Dammit. Helex was hoping he’d mess up so it wouldn’t just be him having to deal with Nickel’s long tirade's.

May Primus have mercy on Helex.

The aftermath was Nickel having to teach all five of them how to hold a newly-built properly.