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Chapter Text

Memories of the death of Optimus Prime is fresh on every cybertronians mind, regardless of which side they stand on, if any. Though it has been almost an entire decivorn since the war ended and the last of the Primes was executed, it seems unforgetable.
To no one's suprise Megatron's rule is that of a tyrant. The further the war progressed the more he lost the ideals he originally stood for, as did most of the faction; and now at the end it seems they have only become what they fought against. The few remaining Decepticons who still, in their sparks, hold the vision of a just and equal Cybertron elect to keep their dreams to themselves. Anyone who dare oppose Cybertron's new ruler stands to be persecuted at best. A peaceful life is only attainable through a helm kept down.

In this reality, however, most Decepticons are fortunate enough to thrive. The new world order serves the strong and anyone who's willing to fight - and furthermore fight dirty - fits right in.

There are Autobots remaining. Few and far between it seems, the occasional rebel is captured and brought to this societies definition of justice, but they appear enough that Decepticon soldiers are adviced to keep their optics peeled for them. They are not currently deemed a threat but Megatron knows first hand what trouble they would be should they organise properly. The assumed resistance force are picked off one by one, rewards announced for every Autobot sympathiser corpse presented to Megatron or his commanders. Rumor has it the resistance members have their safehub in Iacon.
With Kaon assigned the title of capitol on this new Cybertron the old city of the elite has been left to rust and crumble. Not that anywhere else on their planet is thriving.

It is survival of the fittest. And a world such as that leaves little room for societal development and prosperity.

The Decepticons are playing King of the Hill with Lord Megatron keeping score.
The Autobots are scrambling for resources and running from bountyhunters.
Anyone undecided does best to stay out of the way.
Life goes on.

Chapter Text

A blue seeker finds himself at the outskirts of Iacon.
The once glimmering city now a ruin of its former self. He looks down at a time and time again vandalised memorial. A part of him itches to reach out and clean it best he can; but regardless of how much he would like to the voice in his head holds him back. Should anyone catch him it would be easy fodder to turn him in as a sympathiser, it's enough that he's just standing here.

The memorial is dedicated to Optimus Prime aswell as every other Autobot soldier who gave their lives in the war against the Decepticons. It was built soon after the war ended, without permission and relatively hidden at the time. It was before Iacon properly fell, when there was still hope that the city could serve as a decently run refuge for anyone opposing the new ruler of Cybertron. The hope didn't last long; Megatron was quick to order the arrest and execution of anyone who dared sympathise with the losing faction. Most likely whoever built the memorial is long gone.

It's a wonder, really, that it's still standing. It's run down; cracked and missing parts, and most of the names have been scratched out, some replaced with demeaning nicknames. It seemed the passing Decepticons took more pleasure in defacing the memory of the fallen than they did eliminating them from history. Most of the graffiti serves to remind anyone stopping by of the pathetic loss of the last Prime and his army of weaklings.

Thundercracker has enough influence, being the trinemate of Megatron's second in command, to talk himself out of accusations based on him just standing here; watching, reading. He could easily blame it on reminiscing. 'I was just remembering the sweet taste of victory' he could say, 'when we ended the aspirations of those pathetic Autobot scum'.
Of course, he wouldn't actually mean that. He takes no pleasure in their victory. If anything he reminisces on the days before Cybertron turned into a dump and the main priority of everyone on it was survival. He remembers the state of their society, of Kaon, of the backstreets, how bad it was. And yet, somehow, it's gotten worse. Of course, even Kaon wasn't all bad back then, he supposes that's why the past has an upperhand on the present; one thing Kaon had on every other city on Cybertron, he felt, was the community. It was the city of the outcasts and rebels and you'd be hard pressed to find anyone who wasn't welcome should they want to be a part of the whole. Now every neck is a stepping stone.

He's supposed to be on patrol. Whenever he's assigned to Iacon he always takes a moment to… well… he's not sure what exactly he is doing. Skywarp should be somewhere in the vicinity aswell. Thundercracker is grateful that he's on assignment with either him or Starscream more often than he isn't. He used to be able to tolerate his other coworkers but everyone has become insufferable since their victory. As if they weren't bad enough before. All they do is gloat. Not that his trine is much better but atleast they have the decency to leave him out of it, he's sure they know how he feels about all of this. Though it remains unspoken. He's always remained loyal to their cause, why would he stop now.

Thundercracker steps away from the memorial, beckoned by the sound of Skywarp cursing somewhere a little too close for comfort. He's not sure his trinemate knows of the memorial, he guesses not, assuming the other would have properly wrecked it by now if he did. Thundercracker would prefer to leave it standing a while longer.
He elects to walk a little ways away from the site before transforming into his alt-mode, hoping not to drag attention to the area. On his walk he allows himself, carefully as though someone might hear his thoughts, to wonder if his loyalty all these ano-cycles had been misplaced. A forbidden thought for a long time. A forbidden thought still; he clenches his fist in defiance of his own foolish wishfulness. What's done is done and he won't dwell on past mistakes or successes, whichever they might be. Yes. He was happier before the war. That is irrelevant now.

Deciding he's put enough distance between himself and his oasis he launches himself into the air and into his alt-mode. He barely has time to stabilise before Skywarp finds him.

"I was wondering where you'd gotten off to!" his trinemate hollers.

"I was checking the alleys."

"Eugh, you were walking around?" Skywarp rolls over him. "What is wrong with you." Thundercracker takes no offence to Skywarps harsh tone, there is no maliciousness in his words, the three of them play rough, always have.

"Don't come whining to me when you joint rust because you're too good to use them."

"Ehehehe- as if, I'll be spry as a fresh formed frame until i drop dead-"

"Which is nev-"

"Which is never!" Skywarp cackles.

'It's true,' Thundercracker thinks. If there's anything in his life that hasn't faultered it's Skywarps immovable energy; of which Thundercracker is, though he would never admit it, very fond. Yes. He was happier before the war; but his trine helps him forget it. Sometimes he can even pretend they're all still back at Vos and none of the bad stuff ever happened.

Maybe he ought to go there to reminisce next time, it's a bit safer for his image.

Chapter Text

It is not many chords later that Thundercracker finds himself with enough alonetime to pay his old stomping grounds a visit. Nostalgia unfortunately doesn't hit as he had hoped it would with Vos being just as run down as any other cybertronian city. The mechs in this city used to be friendly, he remembers as much.

Walking down the streets of the city he used to call home, he would not say he's surrounded by friendly faces. He's just walking, not making eye-contact, not paying much visible attention to anyone he might pass as he takes in his environment, and yet he feels hostility weigh on him like a dark cloud. In some sense he feels he is fortunate because of the level of respect he is afforded jsut through his close proximity to Megatron. Not only that but he's reputed to be an efficient warrior, that makes him valuable. Or atleast… It makes him valuable enough that his demise at the hands of another mech could go in either direction, either Megatron would be impressed and offer the assailant a seat at the table. Or he would be pissed and the reward for taking down a reliable servant would be death; or worse. Rumour has it Megatron has no qualms offering up his death-row clientele to Shockwave's latest experiment should the scientist ask nicely.

Thundercracker pauses for a moment when he realises he's closing in on where he used to live. As he makes a turn onto his old homestreet he's met with one of the more crumpled areas of the city, the rubble piling up on the ground has turned a once straight road into a bit of a winding trail.
Not that this street was ever anything to write home about, it was always one of the more unkempt corners, he remembers. Starscream would complain about it whenever he was around; Skywarp enjoyed it though, said it felt welcoming.
It's most likely the memories talking but Thundercracker admittedly finds it welcoming, too, as he's looking the old, worn architechture up and down.

He spent alot of time on these streets waiting for something to happen. He never considered himself a mech of action; more likely to wait for an opportunity rather than seek it out. He admired the opposite in his trinemates. Any of these opportunities that did come to him were dropped on - or rather flung onto - him by his trine. He wasn't a mech of action but Skywarp and Starscream definitely seemed insistent to make him one at one point in time. They always dragged him along to whatever they had their sparks set on, big or small.

Thundercracker offers a thought to how Starscream used to be fun once. In some sense he still is but his demand and consant reach for power has kind of taken up most of his attention; he used to be more relaxed, joke around, act like he was annoyed whenever Skywarp had a dumb scheme going then turn to Thundercracker and mutter an affectionate 'I can't believe this idiot.'
He remembers how Starscream had his own schemes aswell; before the powerstruggle. How he'd boast that he'd discover the various corners of the universe, see what other planets had to offer, understand how other solarsystems might differ from their own. Nowadays it seems he's completely lost interests of his younger self's plans.

Skywarp remains mostly the same, and there is comfort to be found in that. There's the energy he carries with him, of course, but Skywarp always prioritised fun. Circumstances have forced him to be more serious but he's not above falling into his old careless ways. Thundercracker thinks he might be the only who genuinly enjoys his trinemate's pranks. The general consensus is that it's fun when someone else is the victim but infuriating when oneself is the target. Thundercracker doesn't mind being a target, atleast every once in a while. He doesn't find it particularly fun from where he's standing but Skywarp's good humour is contageous.

Thundercracker stops infront of an old welded shut building, an old bar, an establishment he knew all too well. He'd been here many times in the backalley of an already disreputed neighbourhood; Skywarps favorite, and one the other two rarely thought about when they weren't in attendance, though it meant hardly anything to him at the time, as he stands infront of it - shut down - Thundercracker can't help but feel a little mournful. Mournfulness mixes with amusement as he remembers the reoccuring event that he would get chatted up by mechs who's optics he often caught with his bright blue paint, something he himself wasn't particularly fond of, and how his trinemates had their own methods to save him from unwanted attention. Starscream having no troubles steering the spotlight his way, Skywarp taking any chance he gets to cause trouble.
Thundercracker smiles to himself as he remembers Skywarp at one point stubbornly sinking his dentae into the arm of a mech who was a bit too persistant with his advances. It's true the three of them had always been very protective of eachother but Skywarp definitely enjoyed the opportunities his protectiveness could land him in.

The blue seeker is torn from his thought by a scrambling sound from an alley a bit further down the street. For a moment he considers leaving, not wanting to end up in any sort of confrontation, but his curiosity gets the better of him and he makes his way over to have a look.
In the dark shadows of the alley he finds a mech swearing and fiddling with what looks like a dislocated shoulderjoint. Their eyes meet and the mech is immediately on his feet, startled and trying to make an escape. They seem to be limping for only two steps before stumbling and falling forward. The Decepticon takes a step into the alley and is immediately met by angry and scared optics as the mech attempts to lift themselves off the ground, electing not to pay them any mind he wordlessly walks up to the damaged mech and offers a servo.
The mech on the ground flicks their gaze from Thundercrackers face to his hand, hesitating.
Deciding he doesn't feel like waiting around Thundercracker instead bends down to grab the mechs arm and pull them up. As he does and the mechs chassis is turned to where he can see the front he notices the unmistakable Autobot symbol on their chest. As the seeker pauses at the revelation the Autobot does not move, attempting to anticipate his next move. Turning his attention to the Autobot's face it takes him a moment to recognise the Autobot as agent Blurr. Someone he's had almost no interactions with himself but have heard of from Shockwave, only good things, depending on the perspective.
Blurr is a nuiscance to the Decepticon cause.

Neither of them speak. Blurr makes a halfhearted attempt to pull himself from Thundercracker's ironclad grip; it is this motion that makes Thundercracker realise he has indeed tightened his grip on the Autobot. He lets go. He says nothing.
Blurr looks suprised, shocked maybe? He brings a servo to his aching arm and opens his intake to speak but is quick to close it again. Thundercracker turns his back to the Autobot and makes his way back out of the alley. He does not see Blurr willing himself to say something, successfully so.

"I've seen you…" Thundercracker stops. He keeps his back toward Blurr but listens intently, mentally screaming at the Autobot to shut the frag up while there's still deniability. Blurr continues despite Thundercracker wishing he wouldn't, "…at the memorial."

"…" Shut up, shut up, shut up. Shut. Up.

"…you don't-" Thundercracker turns his head slightly to the side, hoping the other recognises the glare in his optics as he glances at him to be a warning. The stupid bit-brain of an Autobot doesn't. "You don't have to stay with them."

Frell an internal conflict, Thundercracker is having an internal mass casualty; panick wells up inside him, he doesn't want to kill Blurr. However, if he risks the information getting out about his visits to the memorial he would be putting his own life at risk, potentially also his trinemates reputation through their proximity.
He doesn't have time to rationalise, in the span of a blink Thundercracker whips around and charges one of his blasters with Blurr as his target. Blurr, who just now had seemed confident in his safety, switches back into survival mode and turns to run; the previously presumed limp proves real as he once again stumbles through his attempt at running, the thought flashes through the seekers processor that this is undignified for them both, he shoots anyway. And some part of him is relieved as he sees himself miss, another part of him gets battleready as the reason for his miss was a shot fired at his arm to throw off his aim.

Thundercracker looks above him to a familiar face; Deadlock- no, Drift, diving at him with a blade drawn. The Decepticon dodges but as soon as Drift hits the ground he springs himself in Thundercrackers direction and puts a slash in his wing. As he rolls away from the Autobot he shoots at him with his still functioning blaster, narrowly missing as Drift jumps to the side and shoots right back at the seeker, grazing the side of his helm.
Despite the near hit Thundercracker doesn't flinch and instead shoots at the other once again, this time hitting him square in his leg.
Drift launches himself at Thundercracker and manages to pin him to the ground, blade against his neck and a pede pressing down on his functioning blaster. Thundercracker instinctively grabs at Drifts servo but as soon as his processor catches up with him he concedes, not finding it in him to push back against an easy out. His sudden lack of fight gives Drift pause.

Drift turns his attention first to his comrade, although he keeps his eyes on Thundercracker.

"Blurr, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I- Well, mostly." Drifts nods in acknowledgement, not knowing or at the moment really caring if Blurr can see it. He considers the Decepticon at his mercy for a moment, reflecting on what he overheard before the escalation.

"Blurr isn't the only one who's seen you, you know. You're not as subtle as you think." Thundercracker clenches his jaw at Drift's words but says nothing. After giving the other long enough to respond Drift continues; "It doesn't have to be like this." What he means needs no clarification, Thundercracker remains silent but there's a glimpse of remorse in his optics.

Drift deliberately appears to turn his attention off of Thundercracker for a moment to get a visual on Blurr, but he pays close attention to any movement under him that might occur; none does. Blurr meets Drift's optics with a level of uncertainty but the blade weilding mech pays little attention to it, instead looking him over.

"Your leg?" he questions.

"In need of repairs," Blurr states matter of factly, "painlevel's unremarkable but I can't get my leg to work with me, I'm way too slow for comfort." Drift considers his options. He turns back to the con under him.

"Let's just go our separate ways." Thundercrackers squints at him. "No one has to know what happened here, if you let us go without causing trouble we won't mention your little secret to anyone." Thundercracker doesn't actually believe the Autobot, he would stand to gain more from letting it slip, eliminate one more enemy, and he wouldn't even have to do it himself. That being said, this would be over either way, this is Drift showing him mercy as his kind are so inclined to do, the Autobot could easily chop his helm from his frame right now. If Thundercracker doesn't agree to the other's deal he's dead. If he does agree there's aproximately a 50% chance that he's dead by Megatron's servo should the Autobot have lied about his end of the bargain.

"Alright." A probable death is preferable to a definitive one, he takes his chances. Drift hesitates before getting off him and letting him stand up, never taking his optics off the seeker. Thundercracker lightly brushes himself off and spares no glance the other's way as he turns around and leaves.

Chapter Text

Thundercracker has been keeping his optics peeled for the past orbital-cycle or so. The encounter in the alley is still fresh in his mind and he can't shake the feeling that any day now someone's going to confront him about letting not one but two Autobots escape him and he's been paying his respect to Optimus Prime. He wills himself to think it's guilt eating him, perhaps if he showed enough remorse he'd have an inkling of a chance at getting back in his Lord's good graces.
If necessary.
But no one has brought up any suspicious activity involving him, nor the Autobots Drift and Blurr. And no one has dared question his loyalty to the Decepticon cause. It genuinly seems like he's in the clear despite his paranoia.

His patrol assignments have been continuing as usual, but he has not seen another autobot in quite a while; not that he's been looking particularly close. It's standard, he always hopes he won't find any, his latest encounter only provides another excuse why he would like to avoid it. It's not only Thundercracker, however, who hasn't been reporting any Autobot activity as of late; it's a regular pattern. The remaining members of the faction tend to be out and about in periods, the assumption is that they get what supplies they need then lay low for as long as they can, most likely prioritising their survival as it currently stands.
The affect of this on the Decepticons is nothing more than patrolassignments being lessened to one self-sufficient mech per area. Thundercracker is considered skilled enough to hold is own should the need arise - and he has the motiviations for it but that's none of their business - and has therefore been assigned to patrol Iacon solo this time.

The seeker decides to take this opportunity to once again visit the memorial. He has not been since his skirmish with Drift, for obvious reasons, but he finally feels enough time has passed that he should be safe. Still, he is hesitant at first, the comment from Drift confirming that he has indeed been seen several times gnaws at him; he does not want to get spotted by the wrong mech. But his desire to pick his soothing habit back up trumps his anxiety.

In order to offer himself some sense of security he lands a decent walk from the site, further away than usual. Furthemore, as he makes this long walk he makes sure to keep his audials and optics peeled for even the slightest noise or movement, constantly on edge, making sure no one attempted to follow him. At every nook and cranny he passes he watches the shadows with intensity just incase someone would hide in them. He remains tense as he arrives at the memorial but is, for just a second taken aback by what he sees. For once, in all the time he's come back to this place, it seems someone has cleaned it up. Intake momentarly agape in surprise, if only slightly, his emotions settle into resignation at the thought that it won't stay that way. Not for long.

Thundercracker slowly steps closer to the construction, a row of placks and holograms dedicated to the heroes of many, the nameplacks, specifically, being what catches his eye. For all the times he's set eyes on them they're never been readable, but now he can clearly make out the inscriptions of them all. Not that he'd been in particular need of it, the faces of the mechs are at most incredibly recognisable to him, at most vaguely familiar. He can name most of them. Yet there's something stirring in him seeing their memorial presented with the initial respect intended for it; atleast most of it.
Thundercracker stays at the plack and hologram of Optimus Prime, he stares at the name, not so much reading it as he is just comitting the view to memory, convinced it will soon be covered up again, or scratched out even.
He wonders, as he has so many times before, how life on Cybertron would've looked if the Autobots had won; if Optimus had won. Or atleast… If he'd still been around.

"He would've given you a chance, you know." a voice announces from behind him. Thundercracker does not need to turn, he recognises Drift's voice. "To change, I mean."

"…that so?"

"I have no doubt. He was more optimistic than he should've been, in my opinion, he would've believed you had it in you."

"Am I supposed to be flattered?" Thundercracker turns his helm as Drift comes up to stand beside him.

"I don't think you're supposed to be anything," Drift says earnestly, "I think you might find comfort in the idea."

"Don't talk like you know me, Autobot." Thundercracker hisses but Drift remains unfazed, there's no force behind the words.

"I apologise," Drift turns his attention to the hologram infront of him, the seeker follows suit. "I'm making assumptions, of course."

"Were you waiting for me?" Thundercracker clenches and unclenches his fist in a self-soothing motion, "I made sure no one was following me."

"I saw you flying over the city," Drift admits nonchalantly, "I guessed I would see you if I waited around here." he turns his head to look at the Decepticon before continuing, "I have better things to do than sit around waiting unless I know the wait is worth my while."

Thundercracker clenches his jaw and turns only slighty to get the other in his field of vision and meet his optics. Drift smirks at him, playfully, the friendly gesture catches him off-guard. Flustered - or maybe offended - the seeker turns his attention back to Optimus' plack. Drift looks back up at the flickering hologram of Elita-1 he has placed himself infront of.

"Did you clean this up?" Thundercracker decides to change the subject.

"Hm? The memorial?"

"Yes."

"No, I'm not sure who did, it was invigorating to see it like this, though."

"It doesn't bother you that someone will definitely ruin it again?"

"…I don't think that line of thought will do me well, it's crucial to be optimistic right now." Drift hums, "For now I'm glad my friends get the respect thet deserve."

"…you were pretty close, then?" Drift shrugs slightly.

"Closer to some than others." Drift backtracks, "Does it bother you that someone will definitely ruin this memorial again?"

Thundercracker pauses for a moment, he's only seen his observations as just that, he hadn't put much thought into how he felt about it.

"I…" he starts, "…does it matter?" he resists the urge to get defensive, willing himself out of the thought that Drift is trying to trip him up.

"I think so, you clearly care about this place, why else would you return time and time again? Even now, I thought I might've scared you off."

"I have no reason to be scared of you." Thundercracker bites.

"Clearly." The way the Autobot remains unbothered by Thundercracker's obvious annoyance makes him want to turn and walk right out of there, and yet he stays, rooted in place by the feeling that the other is easing him into something. Curiosity begs him to find out what. "What do you want, Thundercracker?"

What?

"What do you mean?"

"Why do you keep coming back here?" Thundercracker has turned to get a good look at the Autobot, observing his body language, finding nothing but apparent nonchalance.

"Do I need a reason?"

"Are you saying you don't know?"

"I- I'm saying it doesn't matter, I'm just… Here."

"Reminiscing?"

"…"

"Daydreaming?"

"…It's quiet here."

"That's it?"

"I like to be alone."

"Ah."

"You don't believe me?"

"You're putting alot at risk being alone here of all places."

"…What risks I do or don't take are none of your concern."

"Sure." Drift turns his helm to meet Thundercrackers gaze, "It's a little bit unreasonable that simply visiting a memorial for fallen soldiers should be risky, though, don't you think?"

Thundercracker says nothing. Drift is right, of course, but he'd rather have it unsaid.

"Is this the future you imagined, when you fought under Megatron?" Drift turns to lean somewhat on the memorial, rotating his body toward Thundercracker and crossing his arms. Thundercracker squints for a nanoklik but forces himself to hold the other's gaze despite wanting to look away. "Is this what you wanted?"

It almost feels like he's being scolded. Thundercracker absentmindedly puts a servo on Optimus' plack, feeling the inscription under his digits.

"It doesn't matter what I want." He forces out of himself. "I'm a soldier, nothing more."

"For a soldier, you're not very good at following orders." Thundercracker once again clenches his jaw, it's clear the other is trying to upset him but he's unsure for what purpose. "Are you happy? Living like this for the rest of your life?"

"What other choice is there?" the Decepticon snaps. "You don't honestly think your remaining allies stand a chance at doing anything?"

"I do." Drift remains calm, it's infuriating.

"You're delusional!"

"I'm hopeful, there are still allies to be gained."

"You think you're going to lead your scattered and damaged rebelgroup into victory? Against Megatron? Against the entire Decepticon faction?"

"We'd have a better chance with optics on the inside."

Thundercracker freezes. That can't possibly be what Drift is here for. The seeker's voice comes out in a threathening whipser.

"I could bring you in right now." he warns, "I could have you executed infront of Megatron for all the risk you have and continue to pose to his reign." Drift's demeanor remains as it has for the entirety of their conversation. If he feels at all uncomfortable he doesn't show it.

"You could," he says simply, "I don't think you will." Drift stands up straight and lets his arms fall to his side.

"You don't know me."

"Yes. I know." the Autobot smiles kindly at him. "I won't push it, it wouldn't be beneficial for us either way if you didn't help us out of your own free will; but it is a standing offer." Drift starts walking away.

"You're out of your mind." Thundercracker scolds. The other pauses.

"Nothing will be done if someone doesn't do anything, I don't see why that someone can't be any of us."
Thundercracker doesn't respond; he is left alone at the memorial.

He lets his digits run over the inscription once more.

Chapter Text

Post-run in with Drift, the Autobot's offer has plagued Thundercrackers mind. The very idea is preposterous. Still, he struggles to dismiss it.

Thundercracker, despite his better judgement, allows the conversation to bounce around in his processor.
He let's himself think, really think, about the state Megatron has left Cybertron in. He let's himself feel however he wants to feel about it. It's nauseauting, alarms are going off - not even in the back off his mind, it is right there in the front; clear as day. The act of letting himself be honest in the privacy of his own helm feels like a crime.
It does bother him that the memorial is guaranteed to be vandalised in no time. The dead Autobots deserve some respect, they've never given him or anyone else reason to slight them. It was a war, they were all soldiers. The Autobots fought valiantly, he should know.

Leaning on the table he's sitting at, Thundercracker buries his face in his servos, begging himself to stop thinking like this. Begging to go back to following orders without question. Begging to stop wanting-
Drift's words echo: what do you want?
What does he want?
The seeker remembers what the other had said about Optimus. That the Prime would've given him a chance to change.
'Foolish' Thundercracker thinks. The idea only affirms what he already knows about the Autobots being softsparked bit-brains. And yet… The idea tugs at him, if he didn't know better he'd say he felt compelled.
No.
Thundercracker backtracks fast. There's no way; Drift wants to take advantage of his position within the Decepticon ranks, he made it clear that that was his motivations. It's undeniable. Of course he'd say whatever he needed to to get what he wants.

It is also, however, undeniable, that Drift's attempt to appeal to him was infact appealing to him. He wants change. He wants away with Megatron's tyranny. He want's liberation.
He knows Drift is right; a Cybertron where one has to constantly watch over one's shoulder, a Cybertron where every thought, action, and word is policed… It's not right. Matter of fact, every Decepticon should realise it, this was never what was preached in the early days of their rebellion turned conquest. They were supposed to fight for equality and better conditions for every Cybertronian. This is not what they, what he, agreed to when he joined up.

Suddenly he feels cold, bubbling anger and frustration settling down as fast as it arose. These ideas are heresy under the current rule. He once again remembers that the consequences would be dire should anyone find out what he's pondering. Treason is a horrible crime.
Furthermore, treason would, whether through death or exile, rob him of the one good thing he has. Again, he places his comfort in his trine. They don't share his morals, he knows this, he could never ask them to join him. And how could he leave them behind? Without Starscream and Skywarp he is nothing. Everything he does have today is because of them.
Thundercracker wants to dig his digits into the plating on his helm, stuck with an impossible choice; he'd rather not choose at all.

"You trying to dent yourself or something?" A rude but suprisingly gentle push on his helm breaks his mental spiral. He hestitantly lifts his face from his servos to glance up at Starscream with undeniably tired eyes. "What, couldn't find a new little boxing match to land yourself in so you gotta scuff yourself up?"

"Something like that…" Thundercracker forces out of him and sits up straight, directing his optics at his servos now flat on the table. He doesn't see his trinemate's demeanor change as he leans his hip on the table's edge and looks down at him.

"Okay seriously, are you okay?" Thundercracker can't bring himself to meet the other's optics. He know's what he'll see; he doesn't like 'concerned Starscream', the look feels unatural on him. "You've seemed really… In your own world for the past few chords. Moreso than usual."

"I'm fine."

"I just caught you looking like you have the weight of the universe on your shoulders, it really doesn't seem that way. Don't tell anyone I said this - I'm serious, I'll say you're lying - but I'm getting worried."

Thundercracker finally looks up to meet Starscream's gaze. He offers the other hesitant but reassuring smile.

"I think I maybe just… Got in my head a little about that skirmish a while back, it was nothing if not humiliating." He hates lying to his trinemates. He could tell anyone anything, it wouldn't matter, but not them…

"Well, it was," Starscream scoffs, "but so what? Even Megatron has gotten his aft beaten several times, it's not like that tussle says anything about your value as a Decepticon." Primus, if he only knew. Thundercracker clenches his servos and jaw, he tries but can't keep himself from averting his gaze back to the table. Starscream rolls his optics in exasperation. He opens his intake to keep talking but Thundercracker interupts him.

"I know, I know, I- I need to… Get ahold of myself." He really does. "I've just been… Thinking…"

"Oh joy."

"…Maybe I'm past my usefulness, maybe I'm getting rusty."

"If you are then there are many other mech who really need their joints oiled first. What's actually going on?"

"…"

"You're not thinking about leaving, are you? I'm sure you could sweettalk your way into some cushier job if you really tried but you know retiring won't go over well."

"…I know…" Thundercracker fidgets with his digits. "Do you ever think about our lives before the war?"

"Eugh."

"That's a no."

"It's not a no, there are just alot of things I don't care to dwell on."

"…When I went to Vos-"

"When you got your aft handed to you?" Despite himself, Thundercracker snorts. His trinemate smirks.

"Yeah… I went back to where I used to live."

"Surely there are better places in Vos to be."

"Hey, I liked it there. I could relax."

"It was probably the most boring place in that entire city."

"You can't live without glitz and glamour."

"I don't need the glitz but the glamour is preferable."

"Mm, well, we did spend alot of time there, regardless."

"Sure."

"Did you know that bar Skywarp liked has been bolted up and abandoned?"

"I'm not suprised, most entertainment businesses outside of Kaon have been struggling." Thundercrackers slight smile fades as Starscream acknowledges the state of things. "What, were you hoping to find some back-alley high-grade?"

"Not really I just happened to walk past it."

"And then you started reminiscing."

"You know me well."

"Of course I do. You probably got all sad and mushy about Skywarp attempting to cannibalise your potential suitors." At this Thundercracker lets slip a burst of laughter, Starscream only smirks at him.

"You know, it is a little bit scary sometimes, it's like you're in my head."

"I'm very clever, very good at reading others."

"And humble too."

"Ugh, far more humble than I ought to be, I'm constricted by my lessers and their sensitive egos. I don't doubt you spared me a thought aswell."

"About your gracious spotlight stealing?"

"Don't tell me you weren't grateful."

"I won't, I was."

"We're a good looking trine, it can't be helped. Skywarp could be getting more attention if he wasn't so unabashedly feral every chance he gets."

"Shouldn't you be grateful we're not interested in taking attention away from you?" Thundercracker teases and leans his helm on his servo. The weight on him feels easier, not as tangible. He really does have his trine to thank for the things he has, maybe that's all that matters. These moments might be enough to get him through for as long as he needs.

"Puh-lease as if you could even if you wanted to." Starscream straightens up and crosses his arms over his chassis.

"Oh. My. Staaaaaars can you two be any more sappy." Skywarp barrels into their yap-session.

"Can you be any more rude?" Starscream snaps at their new conversationalist.

"I could be more sappy if you want me to?" Thundercracker offers, helpfully.

"Please don't." Skywarp grimaces from where he's standing leaned in a the doorway.

"You've been gone forever, your mission better have gone well." Starscream demands.

"Oh you know it did! What else did you expect sending me - the objectively best seeker in your command - on assignment, ANY assignment!"

"Take it down a notch, you're not all that." Skywarp mocks offense at the commanders comment.

"You're just jealous, my dear trinemate, that you can't live up to my greatness."

"I am literally second in command for the entire Decepticon faction-"

"Nepotism."

"NEPOTISM? You don't even know what that word means!"

"I know it means you have what you don't deserve!"

Thundercracker can't help but smile at his trinemates' bickering, it feels like home, in a strange sense. It doesn't last very long, however.

"Anyway I handled your little assignment, no problem," Skywarp sing-songs and tosses something toward the two at the table before following the object into the room. "Not that it was much of a challenge what with him only having one arm, it did feel fitting that I got to finish the job though!"

Singular drops of energon splatter on both Thundercracker and Starscream as the head of what he presumes to be an Autobot bounces of his trinemate and onto the floor.

"Ack-! Watch it!" Starscream exclaims as he starts trying to get the splatter off of his plating. Skywarp only laughs, his usual gleeful cackle. Thundercracker feels like his insides are both burning and freezing as the blacked out optics of agent Jazz stare back into his own. He feels sick. Still, his gaze follows the head as Starscream kicks it back over to where Skywarp is strutting toward them.
The black seeker picks it up and start tossing it between his servos.

"What? Too prim to get a little dirty?" Skywarp sticks out his glossa at Starscream. Thundercrakcer uses all his focus to push down any visible discomfort at the situation.

"There's a time and place."

"Sure~ Anyway you'll be happy to know Megatron seemed real pleased with your little plan, and real happy with me for executing it so flawlessly." Thundercracker can't bring himself to say anything, he forces himself to watch the other's faces as they're talking, avoiding the severed head at all costs.

"Well, duh, Jazz has been our main troublemaker since the war ended, slippery little dirtkisser. Taking him out will no doubt leave the remaining Autobots on edge for a while. And discourage any sympathisers once it goes public."

"Hear that, Jazz?" Skywarp stops tossing the head and holds it up to talk to it. "You're gonna be made an example, ain't that fun?" The seeker grins wide at Jazz's hollow gaze. The positioning makes it impossible for Thundercracker not to pay attention.

"Don't play with it, your reputation is bad enough as it is."

"Primus, you're a buzzkill sometimes." Skywarp rolls his optics at his trinemate. "Hey TC, catch."

Thundercracker flinches as the Autobot head is flung at him but instinctively raises his hands to catch it. He maintains his unbothered façade but as he's doing his best to hold Jazz's head gently, as though the Autobot could still feel it, he feels as though his spark has been replaced with a black hole.

Chapter Text

The memorial is once again vandalised.

"That didn't last long." Just as he predicted. Still, Thundercracker feels a sense of disappointment blended with everything else he's feeling. It's worse this time. The names no longer just covered up but rather scratched out. It'll be harder to recover; if it's even possible. He sort of wants to slide his servo over the plating that formerly displayed the name 'Bumblebee', imagining maybe the engraved text is still undeneath the scracthes somehow, that you could feel it if you focused really hard. He can't will himself to move, however, there's been this weight on him since the incident with his trine.

He's been coming to the memorial more frequently since his last visit; when Drift offered him a chance to make the stupidest decision he could possibly make.
Despite himself, the increased visits - which additionally could easily attract unwanted attention from his coworkers if he slipped up - are all because of that stupid Autobot.
Thundercracker is hoping to meet him. He's been lost in thought since his rude awakening, if one can call it that. And now he's considering risking any sense of security he has.
He doesn't know how to get in touch with the bot, and going around searching for him wouldn't be beneficial to either of them. Now that's a way to draw unwanted attention.
So he waits. He frequents the one place he knows the other will eventually see him and he waits.

Lacking a better way to pass the time, Thundercracker finds himself revisiting the memory that pushed him over the edge. The mere thought of agent Jazz's helm, the empty stare of his snuffed out optics, it's enough to have him dizzy with nausea. He knows why, though it feels out of place; he's never had a problem with gore prior to this, he's spent most his waking time as a soldier witnessing and comitting brutal acts. But this is different. That was war, the rules were different. Now… They're just picking off mechs with lesser means of defence, it's extermination. He can't imagine the Autobots would have had the supplies to replace Jazz's missing arm, he would've stood no chance again Skywarp. It must have been something akin to slaughter.

There's a burn in the seeker's chassis.
He feels angry, he thinks, maybe. There are more emotions bouncing around his processor than he's able to pin down; oh, Primus, what is he doing.
What is he doing here? His optics dart from the plack in front of him, up to the hologram, and down again. What is he doing? At all?
He wants to turn and go back to his quarters, lock himself in his habsuite, his processor urges him, begs him to leave well alone.
No. This isn't new, he's had this debate with himself time and time again, it always ends the same, he always wills himself in place. He needs to do this.
Frag- This is going to ruin everything.
His trinemates- Oh, if Starscream and Skywarp find out they're going to hate him. They would never forgive him. He'll lose them forever.
He subconsciously clenches his jaw in defiance of himself.
Let them hate him, then. He can't live like this. He can't stay a bystander and watch the further detoriation of his people.

Thundercracker fails to realise his systems heating up from the stress, his vents working overtime to maintain a regular frame temperature. However, he has caught the attention of someone else.
He's brought back to reality by the servo of Drift coming up to rest on his shoulder.

Startled by the sudden interruption, the Decepticon almost whips around and hits his new aquaintance square in the jaw before recognising him. Along with the realisation that the mech is Drift, Thundercracker also recognises a look of slight surprise and barely disguised concern on the Autobot's face. It brings him right out of his previous turmoil.

"…Are you alright..?" Drift cautiously asks, servo having recoiled to his chassis from Thundercracker's hasty turn. Time feels like it's moving in slowmotion, the seeker takes a few moments to collect himself. He studies Drift's face, takes note of his own systems, just now realises how loud his vents are going off.
He flexes his servos a few times, attempting to ground himself, unclenches his jaw.

"I-" Thundercracker starts, slowly regaining his sense of presence, "Yeah… Yeah, sorry, I just-…" Drift watches him carefully.

"Do you need a moment, or…?" the Autobot offers sincerely.

"No- No I'm… I'm good."

"…Okay…" clearly not convinced, Drift still lets silence hang between them for a blink or two before getting down to business. "Have you been trying to get my attention?"

Thundercracker finally feels as thought he's back on solid ground as he takes in the other's question. He responds with a question of his own.

"So you have seen me here?"

"No, not me," Drift assures him, "someone else. I was told about it after your last visit, I figured I ought to be prepared for this next one."

Thundercracker is fast to accept the explanation and continues to… Well… He wonders where to start. As he meets the Autobot's optics he searches for an appropriate segway into the topic at hand.

"…Jazz-" he starts, immediately realising Drift might not know of his compatriot's gruesome fate. He's unsure what conclusion to draw when Drift visibly tenses at the name. What brief hope he has that he won't have to be the one to break the news quickly fades when Drift, feeling Thundercracker has taken too long to continue, urges him to share.

"You have news about Jazz?" he demands.

His optics hint at some miniscule, desperate hope, but his expression makes it seem as though he already know what's coming. Still, Thundercracker struggles to bring himself to confirm the other's fear. It is no secret that sometimes silence speaks volumes. His lack of response and the clear discomfort on his face is enough.

"…Who?" Drift instead asks. A simpler question, though no less uncomfortable.

"…Skywarp…"

Drifts own vents start sounding for only a very brief moment, accompanied by an unfocused gaze and a servo raised to seemingly grab at his helm before it settles in his neck. The noise is quick to die down as Drift gently rubs at his neck and closes his optics to regain his focus. When he once again opens his optics, electing to look past Thundercracker rather than meet his gaze he speaks up.

"I have-" the Autobot starts, grimacing as he corrects himself, "Had… A lot of respect for Jazz. He was a good friend and ally. And…" Drift clenches his jaw and lets his optics fall on the holograms behind the Decepticon.

Thundercracker understands; amongst those less concerned with the 'us versus them' mentality, Jazz was held in high regards even on the Decepticon side.

"Someone we could've used right now…"

The brief silence that follows that statement is broken by Thundercracker.

"I want to help." He says, simply. The two mech's optics meet. Drift considers the seeker for a while.

"…Because of Jazz?" he queries.

"Because of everything." Thundercracker answers. Drift just watches him, it feels like an invitation to elaborate, so he does; "I can't just sit by and watch anymore. It's bad enough that I played a role in the path that lead to all this… Ruin. I can't perpetuate it any longer, I never wanted to to begin with and now- This isn't what I joined the Decepticons to fight for."

Drift's face softens in something akin to affection.

"You've reached your limit?" the Autobot lets his servo fall to his side. Thundercracker presses his intake into a thin line.

"We were promised a better Cybertron." the seeker straightens his posture, his mix of emotions feeling more like a mantle than a chain for once, "This is not it."

Silence.

Thundercracker struggles to read Drifts own mix of emotions on his face. The one thing he can recognise is that the other is wearing, however slight, a smile.

"You do realise that even though I want to trust you, it's not that easy, right?" Drift crosses his arms, challenging the seeker.

"I didn't expect it to be." Thundercracker nods in confirmation, "I'll do what I need to do to prove myself useful." The two simply stare at eachother for a nano-cycle.

"…Alright." the Autobot reaches out a servo for the other to take.
Thundercracker feels a mix of hope and dread as he complies.

Chapter Text

The first mission is assigned to him immediately. From the sounds of it, it seemed urgent, maybe desperate.

The mission is fairly simple.
Many of the Autobots back at base, wherever that may be, are in need of repairs, however, they lack the means to repair them. Supplies are hard to come by unless you're a respected Decepticon, even amongst the ranks you need to prove your worth for valuable repairs. It's more difficult for civilians. Helping an Autobot is out of the question.
This means they must take what they need by force.

Thundercracker is to give Drift a time and location to break in and grab only a few but nevertheless vital tools and materials.

Immediately upon leaving Drift, the seeker starts making a plan of operations in his mind.

First things first, he needs to find out where exactly excess medbay supplies are stored, he knows medics usually keep a good stock within active medbays, needless to say it pose far too big a risk to get so close to active personnel.
Not only does he need to pinpoint a storage with aforementioned supplies, he needs to find a reasonably easy target, preferably a less populated and less prioritised city, in terms of guard-duty.

After finding a good target he needs to find out how well guarded it is aswell as who's on the patrol roster.
It can't be under his watch, regardless of location, as it would risk optics on him, whether out of suspicion or just questions about his work-performance. He's no good to the Autobots if he doesn't have the trust of the Decepticon faction.
Additionally, the guard can't be someone he has or actively works close with for risk of them not only recognising him but also realising his break of routine. Thundercracker is a good and reliable solider, yes, but if he's off-duty he stays away from anything work-related.

Finally, when he has the semblance of a plan, he is to report to Drift.
Someone from their group will be having eyes on the memorial at all times, Thundercracker has been told not to go there again until he has the information they need, meaning when he does go there again they'll know it's time.
Drift will make sure to stay in Iacon for the time being to make sure he's easily contacted when Thundercracker is ready to deliver.

It's simple enough. Do some research, get the relevant information, deliver it to Drift. No problem, he can do this. It's a good thing he's got a killer poker-face, because his nerves fail him as soon as he puts his plan of action in motion.

Thundercracker is high enough in the ranks that he has reasonably easy access to baseline information like storage whereabouts. Next time he writes a mission rapport he'll have no issue pulling up the necessary information on the side while he's typing away.
This is exactly what he does.
As soon as he returns from patrol on the outskirts of Kaon he marches to nearest computer to jot down his rapport and look into any appropriate medsupply storages.
The easiest hit he finds is in Crystal City. A far cry now from it's glory-days, the city has been thoroughly neglected because of it's regular inhabitants.
Any theft is less likely to have anyone bat an optic, the city is overrun with criminals and scavengers. The storage in these partially forgotten cities serve the purpose of providing supplies for anyone taking damage too far a distance from a more reputable medbay, the storage-rooms only contain necessities and are less guarded because of the lack of care from the regime, Megatron has no interest in that which does not serve him.

It's an easy hit.

There is usually a singular guard, but the guard is seldom one who poses much of a threat, it's a formality more than anything. The guard for these facilities is usually one who has little to no respect as a soldier, be it for lack of strenght or lack of discipline. Always one, never both.
Ideally, the Autobots would make their move when the stationed guard lacks discipline; this would mean the guard is most likely found at Th' Bar rather than at their station which means there'll be less chance of trouble.

Thundercracker takes a memo of any guard he knows would take the job less seriously before finishing up his rapport and cleaning up any evidence of his brief research. Not that anyone would look; but he'd rather be safe than sorry.

It's only a chord or two later that he finds himself with enough time to spare to sneak back to Iacon and the memorial. He doesn't have to wait long before Drift joins him.

"Welcome back." the Autobot smiles at him.

Thundercracker offers a tense and polite smile in return but elects to skip any small talk.

"I have the information." he says matter-of-factly. Drifts smile settles in a slight smirk.

"I should hope so, go ahead."

Thundercracker presents Drift with his planned out location, a handful of suggested times for a relatively smooth operation, as well as his motivations; the guard for each selected time-slot and why they would be more or less difficult to deal with - if at all - aswell as the layout and regular inhabitants of Crystal City, not that he believes Drift needs the latter facts.
Drift nods along as he speaks.

"Thank you, this is definitely good grounds for a successful retrieval mission."

"Of course, I set out to be useful to you."

"Will you stand guard?"

"Sorry?"

"During the mission, would you come with and stand guard while I loot the storage?"

Thundercracker blinks.

"I…" he flexes his servo a few times, any previous confidence slowly seeping out of him, "I'm not sure that's a good idea..?"

"You said you wanted to prove yourself trustworthy, no? Wouldn't this be a great opportunity to get started on that?"

There's a weigh on him that he can't really explain, he grimaces and tries to justify why he shouldn't agree to Drift's request, but he comes up empty.

"Ack- Slag, yeah alright, I'll do it."

Drift says nothing but smiles brightly in approval. The two agree to meet up in Crystal City in three chords when one of the less disciplined guards are scheduled to patrol, on Thundercracker's suggestion. Worry wells up inside him before they part, but Drift sounds confident when he reassures the Decepticon.
He sounds equally confident when they meet up after those chords have passed, and Thundercracker is equally concerned.

"Hey," the Autobot starts, placing a comforting servo on the other's shoulder, "you'll be fine, I mean it, it'll be over before you know it."

Thundercracker can't bring himself to internalise the comfort but nonetheless he sends Drift a grateful, albeit a somewhat strained, smile.
Drift is, when they meet, wrapped up in some sort of cloth cloak, no doubt as a means of disguise. The disguise in itself is not what makes Thundercracker react but rather it's the fact that is is fabric, something significantly hard to come by on Cybertron, he reasons it must be old, doubtful that the other would have had the means to get off planet in the recent past.

Without further ado, the two make their way to their mark, taking great care to be quiet as they walk along the back-alleys as far as possible.

True to the information, when they get to the storage facility - which is a fairly small and not very well taken care of building, it is in fact abandoned, no guard in sight.
Thundercracker thinks he sees Drift nod slightly, what for he couldn't say but it somehow makes him feel good about his task.

"I want you to stay outside while I gather what we need from the unit." Drift locks optics with Thundercracker in search of confirmation, the seeker nods, "Good. Do you have a plan for if anyone shows up?"

Thundercracker deflates somewhat, he's about to defend himself when Drift stops him.

"It's okay," he reassures, "You can improvise."

"Improvise? I don't know what you idea of me is-"

"Just follow your instincts, you're a high-ranking Decepticon, you have authority."

"I-"

"You're just overthinking it because there are more factors to account for than you're used to." Drift is already walking ahead of the seeker as he finishes his motivational speech. Leaving no room for Thundercracker to protest that he does not at all trust his instincts to guide him right now.
Fortunately for him, his guard-duty is uneventful.
Or at least it is until the assigned Decepticon to actually guard the unit shows up.

"Oh- Frag." Thundercracker curses silently.
Misfire spots him when he's fairly close.

"Oh- Oh! Hey! Uhh… Thundercracker… How's it hanging?" Misfire is clearly unsettled by a superior showing up to his neglected assignment but Thundercracker fails to notice on account of his own anxiety shooting through the roof. To his own amazement, however, he manages to keep a straight face despite the fact. He pushes his luck and makes an attempt to steer Misfire away from his duties.

"You're supposed to be on patrol."

"Right, yeah, about that-"

"I'm not interested in your excuses." Thundercracker sneers, making Misfire tense up more than he already was.

"Ah- I- I'm sorry, alright? But it's fine! I'm here now, I'll just get right back to it, haha, no worries-"

"Save it. Why would I trust you to not leave again the moment I turn my back?"

"Look, I promise I won't, just please-"

"Why don't you frag off; if you're lucky I'll be a better mood when I get away from this scrapyard and won't report you, but you better shape up. If this happens again-"

"Yes sir, right away sir, thank you you're very generous-"

"Spare me your aft-kissing, just get out of here." the seeker bites and Misfire wastes no time scrambling to get out of Thundercracker's sight.
As soon as the other is out of range, Thundercracker loses all strenght in his frame and damn-near falls to his knees trying to gather himself, vents going off loud to handle the contained stress-induced heat in his systems. Appropriately, as soon as he manages to calm himself, Drift exits the unit and joins him outside.

"Wow…" he hums, "That was pretty harsh."

Thundercracker winces in response and Drift offers him a kind smile and a gentle tap on the arm.

"You did good," the Autobot once again reassures him, "let's go."

Grateful to get out of there and preferably back home to lie down on his berth for as long as he possibly can before work pulls him back, Thundercracker is eager to follow as Drift leads them back to their earlier meeting-spot.
Despite his eagerness to go home, however, as soon as they're in the clear, Thundercracker plops down on a nearby broken pillar or something and runs his servos over his face, trying to get his reeling mind in order.
Drift sits down beside him.

"I feel like I'm asking this a lot but… Are you okay?"

"'M fine, just- I'm fine." Thundercracker ex-vents and pinches the bridge of his olfactory sensor. "I'm just stressed out."

Drift nods softly.

Thundercracker finds some solace in the fact that the ground feels solid even though he's sure he might fall through it.

"…You committed flawlessly though." Drift leans forward slightly to try and get a look at the Decepticon's expression. "Slag, even I got a little scared."

When the seeker shoots him an exasperated look, Drift smiles in amusement. Then he, once again, pats the prior's arm.

"Seriously," Drift huffs, "You did good, thank you, these supplies are gonna help a lot, Blurr is still roughed up from when you found him, and that's only one of our wounded."

Thundercracker grimaces at the memory of Blurr, which Drift is quick to catch and attempts to steer away from.

"Thundercracker, buddy, look at me."

The Decepticon shuts his optic-lids for a nano-cycle before forcing himself to meet the other's gaze.

"You did good." Drift emphasises, "Thank you for helping us."

The weight on his shoulders lighten a little, and he maintains Drift's gentle stare as he regains a semblance of comfort in his frame.

"I'll keep doing it." he says, finally, voice weak but words dipped in conviction.
Drift smiles.

"We're counting on you."

When Drift leaves, Thundercracker elects to stay where he's sitting for a little while longer, letting the darkness pose as a shield as he allows himself to feel whatever he needs to for the time being.

Chapter Text

The second assignment is similar to the first. The Autobots remain in need of repairs and Thundercracker is once again tasked with finding a good target.
It would, however, be more than a little unwise to hit the same target twice.

This time Thundercracker brings drift to Polyhex, former Decepticon headquarters. The key-word in this instance is "former".
Nowadays the city is mostly left to it's own devices, patrol assignments are focused on former Autobot-controlled cities; as that is where rebels are usually found. No Autobot in their right mind would make a city overrun with Decepticons their homebase.

The mission goes off without a hitch, not much to say about it.
As a bonus to a job already well done, the two happen to pass by a generator or sort, which Drift takes the opportunity to slash some wires of. A large part of the city instantly goes dark.

For the third job, an orbital-cycle is allowed to pass, and Thundercracker is not approach by Drift as he's expected. As the seeker stands alone in the dim light of the memorial at night he hears steps behind him, heavier than he's used to, less restrained.
He whips around to lay his optics on an orange and white mech with wide shoulders, a fairly imposing form, visor reflecting the light from the holograms. No one the Decepticon recognises, but with a clear Autobot insignia on their chassis.
The alarm clearly displayed in his hasty turn has the other raise their servos in a disarming gesture.

"Woah, calm down, I'm here on Drift's behalf." the Autobot assures him.

The blasters Thundercracker was in the process of aiming at the stranger are allowed to fall back down to his sides.

"Don't sneak up on me like that."

"…I was hardly sneaking-" Thundercracker cuts the other off with a dismissive wave.

"No- Sorry, I'm just on edge, I thought Drift would be here to meet me."

"He was supposed to but uh… Something came up. I'm Chromedome."

"Wh- Pleasure, Thundercracker," Thundercracker gestures vaguely to himself, attempting to hide the concern in his voice, "is everything okay?" Chromedome winces slightly.

"We're hoping so, at least," the bot trails off, leading the concern in Thundercracker's chassis to well up, seemingly noticing this, Chromedome adds, "it's nothing with Drift."

"Then-"

"We recently found out two more Autobots we presumed to be dead are still alive, Drift took off almost immediately - old friends of his - and they just haven't returned yet. He's out of comms range which is why we can't help but worry a little bit," Chromedome pinches the air to emphasise, "but Drift's capable, they all are, former Wreckers, they'll be fine."

Thundercracker releases the tension he didn't realise he was holding as Chromedome explains the situation. Sure. It's believable enough.

"And you're here to..?"

"Did he tell you anything about this next mission?"

"No."

"You're on your own for this one."

…What?

"What?"

"Yeah, sorry, I'm… I'm sure Drift would've been able to walk you through it a little more uh… Comfortingly? Not my particular forte, but I'm sure you'll do fine! If Drift trusts you to handle this there's not a trace of doubt in my mind."

There goes that dread again.

"I- Primus- Okay, for a start, what am I even supposed to do?"

Chromedome produces a small device.

"This data-drive contains a virus," he starts and offers the device to Thundercracker, "we need you to plug it into one of the monitor systems in Praxus, preferably one focused on one of the larger cities."

"You want to sabotage the satellites?" the Decepticon accepts the device and holds it up in the dim glow surrounding them to see it better, hoping the light won't also illuminate the nervousness on his face.

"Yes. We're at high risk whenever we move- Well… Anywhere; if we can shut down the satellites tracking us we could move somewhat freely for a bit and maybe do some actual damage."

Thundercracker says nothing but tilts his face down slightly and puts the data-drive in his arm-compartment. When he closes it again he allows his servo to rest on top for a beat, trying to gather himself as the reality of his solo sabotage-mission sets in. He realises his pause has lasted longer than intended when Chromedome's servo comes to rest on his shoulder.

"You'll be fine." he says, confidently. Thundercracker lifts his head back up and sees his own servos reflected in the other's visor. "I told you, Drift has full trust in you."

"…Thank you." Thundercracker says, earnestly, and Chromedome let's his servo fall back to his side with a nod.

Back to business, the seeker speaks up.

"I'm not sure when I'll be able to go to Praxus without rousing suspicion, I rarely go there."

"That's fine, the drive is linked to a computer back at the base, I'll keep my optics peeled for a notification. It'll send one automatically when it's activated." the Autobot shrugs.

"That's settled then."

"When you're done," the other holds up a digit to indicate he's not done talking. "destroy it. We don't want to risk it being traced back to homebase."

"Well, yeah, of course." Thundercracker scoffs, "I wasn't planning on leaving any traces." A satisfactory response, no doubt.

"Good mech." Chromedome gives him a quick pat on the arm before turning to depart. "Good luck, Thundercracker, happy to have you on the team."

Thundercracker says nothing, simply watches the other go. Feeling strangely invigorated by the blatant approval from this mech he's never met before.

———

It is approximately 8 chords until Thundercracker manages to make his way to Praxus. A part of him, as he makes the journey, worries that they wait would make the Autobots believe he's willingly neglected it, maybe discarded his new duties altogether. He calms himself with Chromedome's reassurance that time wasn't of the essence, they'll know when he's done his job.

His destination in the city is the well-known satellite center. Getting inside is not even a small hassle, because of his rank, so close to his commander and trinemate, few cons in the facility pay him any mind as he enters through the main entrance. At most there are a handful of glances from curious optics. He's no stranger to these parts but his visits are a rarity.

"Thundercracker! What a lovely surprise, what brings you to Praxus?"
The mech at the reception is gratingly cheerful; Thundercracker retains a cold neutrality to discourage it.

"I need to access the main systems to fetch the recent logs on Autobot activity."

"Oh- Well, it wasn't very long ago since they were last retrieved-"

"I am aware," he snaps, hoping the mask of annoyance will hide his wavering confidence, "there have been thefts at locations where I know the assigned mechs aren't taking their job seriously. I want to know if Autobots have been spotted in the areas or if we're just dealing with desperate civilians."

"Ah, yes, of course, this is of course a concerning matter, hah, I will immediately make sure you have availability," the receptionist shakingly types away at their datapad, Thundercracker has never considered himself particularly intimidating but experience tell him he can be should he want it. "there you are. Please tell me if you need anything."

Thundercracker doesn't answer as the smaller bot smiles up at him. As he leaves the lobby to find his own way to the data-room he fins himself surprised by how natural the ploy felt despite his anxiety.

As the door to the aforementioned data-room closes behind him he let's himself release the tension he'sbeen holding.
First things first; the data-logs. Activity is monitored, of course, it would look strange if the logs were never pulled, he's unsure if the planting of the virus will be logged as he was never told to actually do anything with it, if it moves on it's own he hopes it won't show up on the activity-history.
Further, since he doesn't know how exactly the virus will work it is a safer bet to pull the logs before doing anything else, lest they be corrupted.

Thundercracker transfers the logs on Autobot activity in Crystal City and Polyhex onto a datapad he finds lying on the desk in front of him, immediately after he plugs the data-drive into the computer, not wanting to waste time and linger too long.
As soon as it's plugged in, the drive lights up red.
The Decepticon watches it fairly quickly go from the red, to green, to then stop glowing. After that it does nothing.
After watching the drive do… Nothing, for a nano-cycle or two, Thundercracker decides that it's probably done doing whatever it was intended to do and places it back into his arm-compartment.

Then he leaves. No word to anyone, maintaining the same attitude he entered with, doing his best to swallow the concern at the prospect of being found out.

He makes his back to Kaon, proceeding to dispose of the drive as soon as he touches ground.
Absentmindedly, from exhaustion more than anything, as he strolls down some back-alleys he crushes the data-drive into a fine gravel in his servo and lets it fall bit by bit along his route.

Chapter Text

The whole "double agent" thing gets to be routine after a few rounds.
Well… Sort of.

Every now and again the Decepticons are blindsided by something missing from a seemingly random storage facility, or an ambush on some squadron or delivery. Or even systems and files of mid to high level importance becoming corrupted or going missing out of nowhere.
All, at first glance, happenstance events, as far as Thundercracker is aware, no one suspects anything, least of all suspects him.
And still…

Wherever he goes he feels optics on him, at all times. Sure, he is well aware that he's haunted by his own paranoia, the fact doesn't make him any less stressed.

Once more he starts questioning his motivations, not to mention his choices.
Once more he forcefully pulls himself out of his doubt, only to fall right back in again after time brings him back around.
It seems to be the only time he's able to think clearly, really truly, free his mind from the jumble of "what-if:s" and "maybe:s" is when he's at the Autobot memorial, under the holographic and watchful eye of Optimus Prime.
Sometimes he imagines the Prime is encouraging him, in a way it keeps his spark burning when he doubts his conviction.
As if Optimus, and maybe, by extension, Primus himself assures him he's doing the right thing.
Thundercracker knows he's doing the right thing; he wish he wasn't.

This particular visit to the memorial Thundercracker feels less encouraged, even with his imagined support system. He's sitting, back against the base of Optimus' hologram, arms resting on his knees, staring into the space ahead of him. Not really seeing anything his gaze falls upon.
The internal conflict feels never ending; mind clear, sure, but inside his chassis whirls a mishmash of dread, anxiety and contentment, making sure he's never truly at peace.

"Primus, what am I doing…" Thundercracker rubs his servo across his faceplate.

"Second thoughts again?" The voice catches him off-guard but isn't unexpected. It's become something of a pattern that Drift joins him at the memorial every other visit or so.

"No use hiding it, huh?" Thundercracker tilts his head up slightly to meet Drift's optics and settles his chin on his servo.

"You're pretty easy to read by now." Drift stops a short distance from Thundercracker's pedes.

"Wish I could say the same."

Drift snorts.

"I'm not that mysterious, am I?" he prods.

"Mysterious? Don't oversell yourself," the seeker teases, "I would be harder to read too if I put any effort into it."

"You're saying you think I actively try to hide what I think or feel?"

"Who knows-"

"Ooorrr…. Are you saying you let your guard down around me?"

"I-" Thundercracker stops himself. The thought hadn't hit him previously. Drift catches his sudden hesitation.

"I'm just teasing-"

"No, I know, it's fine I just hadn't… Uh…"

"Thought about it like that?"

"Yeah, I guess?"

"Well…" It's the Autobot's turn to hesitate, not wanting to move into uncomfortable territory for the other, or for himself for that matter.

"I mean I guess trust is kind of important if I'm gonna be reliable in this whole… Double dealing thing…"

"Definitely."

"…" Thundercracker opens his intake to speak, but swallows whatever he was going to say, out of uncertainty perhaps. He instead makes a drastic change in topic.

"You know…" the Decepticon starts, "when you defected…"

"…Yeah..?"

"…How did you know you were doing, like… the 'right' thing?"

Drift looks down at the seeker where he's sitting and ponders the question.

"I just did." the Autobot settled on. "The Decepticons no longer fought to hold up the values I joined to fight for."

"D'you still feel like you did what you should've?"

Drift gives the other a soft smile.

"I do." he affirms. He opens his mouth again, but pauses to reconsider his words before putting them forth. "I realise that… There are consequences that have come from my decision that I would have preferred to live without. Initially I definitely had doubts, more than a few, but ultimately I'm content with where I am. My defecting has served me in the long run in many ways."

"You think this is serving you?" Thundercracker grimaces and makes a vague gesture to the destruction surrounding them.

"The struggle is worth it." Drift is resolute, "Or it will be. We're not done yet."

Thundercracker breaks their shared, steady gaze and crosses his arms over his knees. The sudden reclusion prompts Drift to change his approach to his clearly torn friend.
He takes a seat next to him.

"You have more to lose than I did." the Autobot starts. Thundercracker simply turns his helm away from the other, not wanting to encourage the broaching of the implied topic. "I'm sorry you have to go through this." Drift says instead, acknowledging the rejection.

"It's nothing for you to apologise for," Thundercracker moves to massage his neck with a servo. "I've had plenty of opportunities to leave for good, and I've been tempted to; but I always come back. Old habits die hard."

"Sure."

The two sit in silence for a while. Drift trying to pinpoint an appropriate time to ask his lingering question to the previous statement.

"You think you'll go back again, then?" he prods, finally. Thundercracker remains silent for a beat, rubbing circles on the base of his neck.

"I technically haven't left yet." he hums.

"Best of both worlds?" Thundercracker snorts at Drift's suggestion.

"Something like that…" he turns to once again look at Drift, who's been keeping his optics on the other for the duration of the conversation. "Won't last forever though…"

"No…" Drift smiles apologetically, "It won't…"

Thundercracker feels his earlier, swallowed down question push it's way back up his intake. 'Do you trust me?'
It feels too blunt; too risky, too "spark in his servos". He dances around the question.

"Are you worried I'll choose the Decepticons again?"
Close enough, it gets the message across, and he feels at least some of the dread he'd feel at the more direct line of questioning.

Drift says nothing for a little too long. The seeker searches the other's optics, which are still trained on him, for something to reveal how he feels.
The Autobot looks like he's thinking, trying to figure out the right words, it does nothing to settle Thundercracker's nerves.

"I think…" Drift finally lets out, "It's normal to be… Hm… Uncomfortable with drastic changes."

Thundercracker fails to piece together the other's intent with the words, before he can pry, Drift continues.

"I'm not worried." he says. There's an assuredness in his voice, and when he's spoken, Drift glances up at the flickering hologram of Optimus above them.

Thundercracker feels… Calm.

Chapter Text

For quite a while the double agent gig works out surprisingly well.
Thundercracker, along with various Autobots - mainly Drift and Chromedome - different characters for different missions, have joined together in a number of supply-runs aswell as minor sabotages to the Decepticon systems of function.

It is on lucky number 13 that something finally goes wrong.

It's a supply mission, much like any other, except this time the team aims their ambitions toward something larger. All the supply-runs thus far have been important, vital even, minor repairs are almost always an urgent issue at the Autobot home-base, but it's not enough. Several Autobots are in need of more substantial spare parts, some even missing limbs, but material for good, proper, larger scale repairs is hard to come by, even for Decepticons.

Post-war, the industries have toppled a little bit, maintaining the means of productions weren't a priority during the war, and in the transfer of power, any factory under Autobot control became easy targets for the Decepticon army.

The Autobot rebellion have neglected gunning for this kind of mission for a while now, hoping for safer environments before putting themselves at this kind of risk, but it's time to take their chances.
With Thundercracker helping them, their mission success-rate has increased, which in it's turn has led to more missions, in particular more attacks on Decepticon facilities, which then, naturally, has led to more bots taking damage.

"Heavy duty" supplies are kept closer to Kaon. Matter of fact it's kept in Kaon. While the missing supplies haven't raised any real alarms if it's has been noticed; it's not a long shot for officers to assume the missing med-supplies are the work of the rebels, as such any larger weaponry or spare parts have been moved to the new capital.

This mission takes more rigorous planning, caution is of utmost importance.

———

Drift and Springer are already at the memorial when Thundercracker arrives.

"About time we met, I think." The stranger who he realises is Springer, extends a servo.

Thundercracker has heard many tales about the Wreckers, even had the displeasure of encountering them a time or two, he's never had a proper meeting with the leader. He only knows him to be well respected.

"Sure." Thundercracker manages as he gives the other's servo a polite shake.

"For the sake of formality…" Drift starts, "Springer, this is Thundercracker, Thundercracker, this is Springer."
The two aforementioned mechs nod at each-other in recognition,

"I think we're acquainted enough through stories, don't you?" Springer offers as an attempt at friendly banter.

"You think your reputation precedes you, or is it the other way around?" Thundercracker complies.

"Can't it go both ways?"

"Touché." Thundercracker hums, "I've brought a map." he follows up and produces a small projector from his arm-compartment.

"Straight to business." Drift huffs.

"I thought you liked it that way."

"Never said I didn't."

Drift shoots Thundercracker a brief smile.

The projector is activated in the Decepticon's servo to show the blueprints of a building, a storage facility.

"It's off to the side within the city but not particularly remote unfortunately, there's no chance of finding anything to these standards outside of Kaon as it currently stands."

"Well, we're no strangers to high risk." Springer comments.

"You already have a team in mind?"

"The three of us," Drift starts, "As well as Percpetor and Chromia, not sure if you've heard of them."

"Chromia rings a bell, can't say I'm overly familiar with either though."

"All you need to know is that they're reliable," Springer adds, "We've picked out the best bots for the job."

"I believe you," Thundercracker affirms, "to get inside we'll need to move with incredible caution and as stealthily as possible, although that's a given."

The seeker pauses as he searches the projected map for something.

"I can get us in through a side entrance," he picks back up and gestures with his digit to a point on the map, "it'll attract the least attention, and when we're inside we'll be right by the maintanence corridors which is the safest route for as long as they can be used, it'll be a bit cramped, I won't fit with my wings but I'll walk by you on the other side of the wall, the missing supplies in other facilities have begun turning helms so blaming my being there on heightened security won't be a problem."

Drift and Springer share a look that Thundercracker can't decipher, when he looks at them questioningly they wave it off.

"It's nothing," Drift insists, "something might become relevant later on, but I'll inform you if that's the case."

Thundercracker holds his gaze at Drift for a moment before moving on, deciding to trust him and not pry.

"As I said," he starts back up, "the maintenance corridors will be cramped, but they'll only take you to the staircase leading to the second floor. The second floor being where they keep spare parts for extensive repairs."

Thundercracker points to some stairs on the map then shifts it to show a second floor-plan. He then moves to point at their targeted storage room.

"This is where we're going." he says simply, "I don't know if there are cameras, I couldn't find any information on the map or in any logs, I'm willing to bet there are, however."

"Would be a little weird if they didn't have any surveillance if they care enough to only keep that stuff in Kaon." Springer hums.

"Definitely," Thundercracker changes the focus, "on the topic of surveillance; the guard-logs are consistently lazily written, which would suggest those assigned to guard-duty are pretty lax with it. Which makes sense since there has, as far as I'm aware, never been an attempt to steal from any facility within the walls of Kaon since the new regime. This would work in our favour, of course."

"Pride goeth before the fall."

"Pride goeth before the fall."

"Not to be pessimistic," Drift pipes up, "what I'm about to say is non-negotiable."

Thundercracker and Springer turn their full attention to the third.

"In the event that this goes awry post getting the supplies, we split. Priority needs to be bringing as much as possible back to base. As soon as we're out of the building we do what needs to be done; if someone's in a bad spot, help if possible but not at the risk of yourself and whatever supplies you're carrying."

"Sure." the Decepticon agrees.

"That's sort of standard by now anyway." Springer shrugs.

———

The trio agreed to meet up on the outskirts of Kaon three chords later.
Once again Thundercracker is met with the rest of the group already being on site when he arrives. He observes that all 4 of the Autobots have some sort of bag hooked onto the upper back of their pelvises. Not particularly large but sizeable enough that they could make away with some decent materials.
The group make polite but hasty introductions.
As Thundercracker goes to shake Perceptor's servo the other instead motions for him to offer up his own opened servo. As he does, the Autobot drops a small circular object into it.

"What's this?" Thundercracker is quick to question.

"A cloaking device, made with the help of Mirage and his abilities."

"In case we're intercepted." Drift adds. "It'd be a bummer if you got spotted helping us, we need you on the inside."

"Should you be walking around the facility on your own that's easy enough," Perceptor continues, "but as soon as we breach the second floor you'll be just as much at risk as we will."

"Yeah… Fair enough." Thundercracker huffs and attaches the device to his chassis.

After a brief check-in that everyone's good to go, Thundercracker proceeds to lead the way from their rendezvouz point to the storage facility. In the name of being extra cautious, the Autobots leave a significant distance between them and him just in case the seeker should be spotted or even stopped by someone unaccounted for. The caution pays off about halfway on their route as Thundercracker is momentarily startled by fellow soldier Breakdown.

"Oh, hey TC!" the interaction is quick, barely noteworthy, it's as Thundercracker exits an alleyway that the other simply passes him by and offers a hasty acknowledgement, which the seeker promptly returns with a half-hearted wave. It is, however, enough for the entire group to feel their stress spike in an instant before slowly settling once more. Aside from this - barely enough to call - hiccup, their journey is uneventful and smooth. No words are exchanged when they reach their targeted building. Thundercracker opens the side-door he's led them to and let's them inside, immediately guiding them to the planned route through the maintenance corridors.
As expected, the space is cramped at best; as expected Thundercracker has no hope of fitting with his wings still attached. As the Autobots pile inside, the Decepticon takes his position just on the other side of the wall, taking the long, roundabout route to their destination so that the other's can be guided by his footsteps rather than fumble their own way to their destination.

Thundercracker is taking the longer, less efficient route, yes, off to the side of anything in need of guards, still, he expected to see at least one of them, the corridors are strangely empty.
At first glance that is for sure a potential coincidence that favours them. The immediate thought that follows is in regards to whether it is a coincidence or not. The seeker makes a mental note to be aware of any movement. Very aware.
Additionally, he takes note of the cameras installed by every individual storage room. It does him well to remember that Soundwave sees everything, he makes a point not to look too long at any camera, and does his best to ignore them altogether.

Soon enough, they reach the staircase they were aiming for, and as promised on the map there is a door to the maintenance corridor right by it. After making sure no one is around to see them, Thundercracker taps lightly on the door and the 4 bots inside emerge with remarkable caution.

"There are cameras." Thundercracker informs, quietly, "One by every individual unit, most likely the pattern continues on the second floor aswell."

"Noted." Drift gestures to the cloaking device, "It's probably time to activate that now, if they see you it's already too late."

"Right."

As he pushed the button intended to activate his disguise, Thundercracker takes note of his frame - the parts he can see - changing form and colour; dull, inconspicuous, he wonders if he looks like someone else or if they somehow came up with a new frame altogether.

"So cameras everywhere, we're guaranteed to be spotted. Better move fast." Springer adds with urgency in his voice.
The group all agree, just as they're about to make their way up the stairs Thundercracker once again speaks up.

"I expected there to be more guards." he hurriedly throws out. "I've yet to see one."

The resolution amongst them wavers for less than a nano-cycle as all optics are on Thundercracker. There's no need for further explanation, they all know what it implies.

They brace.

Thundercracker takes the lead, with Perceptor close behind him. Around every corner as they move along the upper corridors, the sniper moves first to swiftly clear any obstacle - should one occur - with the seeker overtaking as soon as he gets the go-ahead.
When they round the last corner, Perceptor makes quick work of the singular guard stationed outside their targeted storage.
The urgency has doubled.

Chromia is fast to break through the group and knock the door to the storage-unit down with a smaller, pre-set explosive. The smoke isn't allowed to clear before the Autobots rush inside to grab what they can; Thundercracker remains outside to keep watch, no doubt they'll be face to face with Decepticons before they know it.
The seeker almost pauses when he realises he's come to imagine himself as separate from his faction, but he snaps out of it in time to hear footsteps incoming, and doing posthaste.

"We've got company, nano-cycles away!" he barks into the room, this is the only warning they need to redirect their attention from gathering to escaping. There are two ways to go, back where they came or forward and the incoming soldiers can be heard from either direction. They split.
Thundercracker, along with Drift and Perceptor push forward, finding themselves at the business end of several blasters as soon as they turn the corner.
Nevertheless they push on and through. There's no time to think, they shoot at anyone who isn't them and miraculously make it out on the other side with just some scratches and external plating slightly singed on select areas.

Thundercracker uses the little mental-space he has for active thinking to hope and wish that Springer and Chromia are alright.

When they smash through the door leading them outside of the building there are more goons waiting for them.

"Slag."

Neither side wastes any time hesitating, shots are fired all over the place, it's difficult to tell who's firing in what direction as the Autobots and Thundercracker keep moving through the encounter.

"Keep moving, I'll cover you!" Thundercracker commands, he's met with no protest as he turns to focus on retaliating while the other two push ahead and fire back only if necessary. It's as Drift said, the materials are priority number one, and Thundercracker isn't carrying any.

As the Decepticon squad following them start to thin out, the seeker divides his attention equally between fleeing and firing, electing to add some effort into tailing his comrades. It is immediately when he turns around to run after the other two that he realises he's lost them. However, he has no time to ponder which way they could have ran before he's shot at from above.

Oh no.

He knows before his optics confirm his suspicions.
Starscream has joined the fray.

Thundercracker's run transitions into a slide to change his direction just as the jet above him transforms into his root-mode and lands only a few steps in front of him.

"Say," his trinemates voice is triumphant, "lots of mishaps have befallen the Decepticons lately, I don't suppose you're the reason, traitor?"

Thundercracker forgets for a brief moment that he's in disguise.
Starscream doesn't recognise him.
This presents him with good and bad news, the good news is that he can still save this, it's not hopeless, he just needs to get away.
Which leads into the bad news. He doesn't know how his cloaking device works, there's no way to know if transforming will expose him or if his disguise has an alt-mode, if it does, is it a flyer?
No, it's too risky.

In a split nano-cycle decision, Thundercracker activates the thrusters in his pedes and launches himself over Starscream in a smooth motion.
The look of perplexion on the other's face he sees when he glances back at him clues him in to the fact that the disguise most likely should not be able to fly.
Had he had more time he'd pat himself on the back for making the right decision, but now is not the time for celebration.
Thundercracker runs. As fast as his pedes can carry him, using his thrusters to make quick turns between buildings; Starscream remains tight on his trail, blasting away all the while; it's not for nothing his trinemate is Air Commander.
The dodging of blaster-fire combined with his unfamiliarity with running makes the 'escape' part of the plan a hassle.
Eventually, however, there's a pause in the shots from behind as Thundercracker makes two quick turns in succession leading him into a fairly hidden alley.

Despite his better judgment he slows down to reevaluate his direction, attempting to take advantage of his short break.
He's soon made to suffer as he's ambushed from above and thrown to the ground.
When he catches up to what just occurred he realises Starscream is standing over him, both blasters aimed at his helm.

"Slippery dustkicker, huh?" the Decepticon Second in Command sneers down at him.

Thundercracker feels pure panic welling up in his chassis and attempts to shuffle backwards. Simultaneously his servo is fumbling for the cloaking device attached to him.

"Wait- Wait wait wait-" the pleading, desperate, comes out far more quiet than he'd prefer, he struggles to get anything out at all. He only realises the disguise is deactivated when Starscream's expression snaps from amusement to confusion, them immediately melts into horror and anger.

"…No-" Starscream manages.

"I'm sorry- I'm so-"

"Nonononono-"

Starscream's blasters remain trained at Thundercracker. Their optic's are locked in some sort of silent exchange, but Thundercracker has no idea what his trinemate could possibly be thinking of him in this moment.

"I was wondering where you went."

The tension is briefly broken before being doubled tenfold. Thundercracker can't see him, but Megatron's voice is unmistakable.
Nor can he see that Megatron has spotted him. But he can hear the obvious glee in the tyrant's voice when he speaks again.

"What are you waiting for?"

Starscream doesn't move. His optics are fixed on his trinemate's.
Thundercracker manages, finally, to make out a singular facet of the other's expression. Pure distress.
He prays for something else, something akin to mercy.

"Starscream…" he pleads, quietly, for only his trinemate to hear.

Starscream winces at the sound of Thundercracker's voice.

Then,

finally.

He moves, he lowers his blasters and backs up to allow Thundercracker to stand.
The relief the blue mech feels is short-lived, and he misses his opportunity to get up.
He only manages to raise the upper part of his frame off the ground before a scoff can be heard from somewhere behind his trinemate.
Starscream's chassis explodes, Thundercracker catches a glimpse of Megatron's infamous canon aimed at them.

The world goes quiet, only for a blink;
it's followed by a deafening ringing sound in his audials.

Thundercracker watches his trinemate fall to the ground, his bright optics fading to black in and instant.

Neither of them move.

Thundercracker is frozen, watching Starscream's corpse.

Time slows to a stop.
Or atleast it feels like it, he can vaguely hear the sound of blasters and metal against metal.
It sounds terribly far away, he can't bring himself to react.

His optics remain locked with his trinemate's, convincing himself that the other will come back online at any moment.

Any time now.

Please.

Thundercracker almost reaches out to grab Starscream's servo.

He's broken from his trance by someone, Drift, gripping his arm.

"We have to go."

Drift's voice is firm, commanding.
Aggressive.
It feels unfamiliar.
Thundercracker struggles to understand why Drift would be so harsh. He doesn't understand why the Autobot is pulling at him.
He finally manages to turn his helm and look back at Drift.
Drift looks… Upset. Worried?

Thundercracker turns again to see Chromia and Springer taking turns keeping Megatron on his knees.

"Wait…" his mind is slowly catching up with him.

"Come on!" Drift barks at him. Thundercracker flinches.
He makes a move to reach for Starscream before Drift pulls him back.

"Thundercracker, we have to leave!"

"Wait- Wait, please!"

Drift's effort is slowly dragging the seeker up and away from the situation. Thundercracker keeps begging.

"Please, I can't leave him here!"

"There's nothing you can do for him, he's gone!"

"You don't know that-"

Springer leaves Chromia to get Megatron out of focus enough for them to depart safely and dashes to assist Drift. With a swift motion he socks Thundercracker in his jaw.

"Snap out of it!"

The impact discombobulates the former Decepticon enough for Drift to properly drag him along.
Despite finally being on their way Drift can't help but worry that Thundercracker will relapse again.

As Springer and Chromia transform into their alt-modes to make a speedier get-away, Drift remains in root-mode with Thundercracker to make sure the other stays safe.
Fortunately they've been bought enough time to find a decent place to hide.

Thundercracker doesn't know where they are, but Drift is keeping him in a tight grip to make sure he stays there.

Drift keeps a sharp gaze toward the streets, should anyone show up.

They wait for the action to die down.

The only thing on Thundercracker's mind is the gaping hole in Starscream's chassis.

Chapter Text

A chair breaks in two as it slams against the wall.

There are bits and pieces of metal and glass all over the room, the sound of the scraps cracking and crunching when they're stepped on is accompanied by the sound of vents running on overdrive.

Soundwave simply watches the carnage from the doorway, he has little interest in interrupting, deeming it neccessary for the mech from which the chaos originates to calm down as he feels appropriate before further action is taken.

The sound of his own voice shouting 'you're lying' is echoing in Skywarp's head.

He's never felt so angry before.

He'd been away on assignment in Tyrest when the event occurred. When he'd returned he had gone looking for his trinemates as he so often does when he's been separated from them for a longer mission. What he'd instead found was Soundwave informing him that his one trinemate is dead and this at the servos of the other.

The time passed since hearing this is a haze. All he can recall is blinding rage and a buzzing in his audials.
He launches a datapad at the floor.
As it shatters and joins the rest of the scrap surrounding him, Skywarp finally starts to regain his senses.
He turns sharply to glare at the Communications Officer observing from the door.

"Take me to him." the seeker demands, seething. "You have him, right? I know you do, show me."

Soundwave simply watches him. For longer than he'd prefer.
Just as Skywarp is about to start shouting once more, the other turns to leave the room.

"Skywarp: follow." A simple, unfazed command.

The seeker complies.

Soon he finds himself by a berth in a medbay, Soundwave once again watching him from the door; like a surveillence-drone.

On the berth lies Starscream's now desaturated frame, chassis blown open, optics dark, the glass covering them cracked.

Skywarp feels numb.
Then he feels angry again.
It wells up inside him, fizzling, threatening to have him explode again.

"I figured you'd want to come here."

Megatron's voice is far to pleased for the situation; it only serves to egg the seeker on.
He shoots his leader a venomous glare over his shoulder.

"Where. Is he."
It's not a question.
It's a demand.
Megatron barely contains a smirk, enthralled at the fierce look in the other's optics.

"Gone." the gray mech supplies. "Unfortunately, his new Autobot friends whisked him away before I could get my servos on him.

Skywarp's vents are raging, his systems are working overtime.
He turns back to look at Starscream.
He's never felt so angry before.

"Thundercracker has a heavy debt to pay, don't you think?" Megatron hums, "For his treachery, I mean."

Skywarp doesn't answer, simply tightens his already clenched servos.

"Coincidentally," the tyrant continues. "I am in need of a new Air Commander."

Skywarp could never measure up to Starscream's wit and cunning, every mech in the room knows it. Still, Megatron feels his rage and destructive nature would make him valuable; and, with the right incentive, fiercely loyal.

"Don't you want revenge, Skywarp? I can help you."

Chapter Text

It's the sight of Starscream's face.
Angry.
Disappointed.
Distraught.
All at once.
He wants to apologise; beg, but he can't control his voicebox.

It's the relief when Starscream lowers his blasters and backs up;
he wants to grab him, hold him,
thank him.
But it's also the seering pain in his own spark when Starscream's chassis explodes over him.
His trinemate falling to the ground.

It's the gaping hole in Starscream's chassis, it's the energon leaking onto the ground;
it's the energon splattered onto his own frame.

It's the ringing in his audials and the soulless optics staring back at him.

Repeat.

———

Thundercracker has no concept of how long he's been staring at that same crack in the wall in front of him.
He thinks maybe it's grown. The tiniest bit. Who's to say, he hasn't measured.

The reception amongst the Autobots gathered at the base since his arrival has been mixed. They know who he is, they also know what he's been doing for them and, of course, they're very grateful.
Still, this is Thundercracker, as far as most are, or have been, concerned, a loyal Decepticon high in the ranks of Megatron's army. It's a little bit strange to have him in their midst.

It doesn't help his case that, since showing up, he's done nothing but sit and stare blankly at the wall in a room at the corner of the base.
Drift placed him there to offer the former Decepticon some privacy.
Unfortunately, it's ended up making him kind of off-putting.
He hasn't said a word to anyone.

Drift has been checking in on him regularly.
Or atleast Thundercracker thinks he has.
He know he's vaguely been aware of the Autobot beside him several times, he hasn't counted how many.
Nor has he been aware of how much time has passed in between every check-up.
He knows that at one of the earlier check-ups Drift cleaned the splattered energon off of him.
He thinks he's grateful; or rather he would probably be if he could bring himself to care, a part of him feels angry at the loss of the last thing connecting him to his trinemate.
That being said, this part is far in the back of his mind, he wouldn't have the energy to do anything with it.

Thundercracker plays back the memory plaguing him once more.
And again.
And again.
And…

The feeling sinks in him, his whole frame aching with it, like he's imploding.

His worst fears, realised.
All that anxiety, all that dread;
worrying about this exact thing.

He's lost everything.

"Not… Everything…"

The voice beside him makes him aware that he'd spoken out loud. He hadn't realised.
He also hadn't realised that Drift sat down beside him at some point.
He wonders brifely how long the other has been sitting with him.

Thundercracker hesitantly turns his helm to look at Drift, almost like he's forgotten how to.
Drift looks tired.

When he's turned in Drift's direction he also instincively flits his optics to the silhouette standing in the doorway.
It's Chromedome.
With his arms crossed over his chassis he lightly lifts one of his servos to give Thundercracker a small wave of acknowledgement.
Thundercracker thinks that he should return the gesture, just the acknowledgement. A wave; or a nod. Anything.
He can't make his body move at all.
His optics flicker back to Drift.
He must look confused because Drift is quick to explain the other bot's presence.

"Chromedome is a mnemosurgeon." he states plainly, he then pauses and looks to be searching for the right words before starting up again, "I was starting to worry that you would… Need some sort of intervention because you've done nothing but stare at the wall for almost a deca-cycle… I was hoping Chromedome could offer an assesment."

Thundercracker's face remains blank as he attempts to catch up with the information.

"…A deca-cycle?"

"Yes. You haven't responded when I've tried to talk with you either."

"It's been kind of… Concerning." Chromedome adds softly.

The seeker once again looks to the bot in the doorway, then back to Drift.

"…I'm sorry," he manages.

"No need for that," Drift places a servo ontop of Thundercracker's arm, "we're just glad to hear your voice again."

The seeker takes a long moment to process what Drift said, not because the words are complicated, for some reason they just… Don't make sense to him.
He's terribly tired.

"You need to recharge."

He looks into Drift's optics, about to protest. He's fine.

"You've been awake every time I've come to check on you, no doubt you're near collapse."
Drift repeats his earlier statement, "You need to rest."

"I'm fine." Thundercracker forces himself to rise but is soon caught by Drift as he stumbles as soon as he's upright. He catches, from the corner of his field of vision, Chromedome making a move forward aswell.
Drift quickly regains his attention.

"Please," he urges, "just recharge. Jetfire can have a look at you while you're out aswell, we still haven't gotten to checking you over since-"

Somehow, Drift stopping himself feels like the worse option, he's reminded of the anguish either way, but now it's clearly brought to his attention the fragility he's displaying.

"Eugh…" is all the seeker manages to verbalise.

"You're just making this harder for everyone by fighting it, Thundercracker." there's a hint of scolding in Chromedome's voice even as he's attempting to be gentle with it.
The whole situation feels shameful. Thundercracker complies, if only for the hope that when he wakes up this will all have been a terrible nightmare.

He's brought to the Autobot rebels' impromptu medbay, a shoddy room with the three, what he assumes to be, best condition berths they have, the condition being not great. The equipment looks old, no doubt they've had to work with what they could get their servos on. When Drift and Chromedome guide him onto one of the berths to lie down it does not take long for him to power-down. All it takes is a blink of his optics and his energy is all but depleted.

When he wakes up, Jetfire is standing beside him. The larger mech smiles down at him. Despite his roughed up exterior, there's a sense of comfort surrounding him. Thundercracker, however, can't bring himself to smile in kind.
The scientist falters slightly, just enough for it to be noticable.

"How are you, Thundercracker?" his voice is gentle, coaxing. It's been a long time since they last spoke, it was before the war, the seeker believes. He recalls Jetifre being kind but this is one step too far for comfort, he feels pitied. Thundercracker elects to focus on the state of his frame.

"Fine. As far as I can tell, all my systems retains normal function."

"…and aside from the physical?"

"…"

Thundercracker looks away, unwilling to answer yet still feeling compelled to. He assumes the larger mech already knows about the outcome of events he's no doubt referring to.
As he's turned away he doesn't notice Jetfire opening his intake, preparing to speak once more, searching for a decent approach.

"Would you be more inclined to talk if I asked on my own behalf?"

"…you mean…"

"…that I want to know about S-… About him specifically."
There's the avoidance again. Thundercracker tells himself it's because Jetfire is as affected by the loss, not because Drift has told him to be careful; lest he be, once more, disgusted by the Autobots treating him like he's fragile.
Thundercracker maintains his staring-contest with the wall as he offers a response.

"Megatron blasted him through the center of his chassis, there's no chance his spark survived that."
Somehow he's unsettled by how dettached his own voice feels as he recites the death of his trinemate as a news-broadcast.

"…I was told you were… Fairly close to it."

The memory is all too vivid when he shuts his opticshutters. He refrains from doing so.

"I'd say that's accurate."

Jetfire is quiet for a moment. Thundercracker is about to turn to see what the other is up to before he speaks again.

"…if it were me I would've been pretty upset."

There is quiet again. It's an olive-branch of sorts, Thundercracker recognises the rounadbout way to tell him he's allowed to mourn despite it all. He's grateful but he couldn't admit it. He doesn't recall ever feeling grief to a point of leaking, but as his left optic blurs from the lubricant leaking from behind the glass of his right optic he recalls learning about what the humans on earth called crying. He fails to see the purpose of it within the cybertronian existance.

Jetfire doesn't push further, Thundercracker remains turned away from the other, willing himself not to wipe his optics for concern of revealing his sorry state to the Autobot.

The berth feels hard underneath him.

"You should recharge for a while longer." Jetfire urges, firm but gentle, "You woke up sooner than I would've hoped, meaning you most definitely haven't recovered from those chords of being constantly active."

Thundercracker sees no meaning in protesting. He'd rather not be aware of himself anyway.

"Alright."

Chapter Text

Only recently has the newly defected Decepticon started moving around on his own accord, albeit with much hesitation.
The Autobots surrounding him have been reasonably friendly, they greet him when they see him, there's the occasionally polite smalltalk with those he's already exchanged words with. Mainly Jetfire but Springer has made attempts not to be a stranger, it's appreciated even though it feels a little odd.
Despite everyone's best efforts, wherever their line in the sand is, there is some tension amongst them. Or more specifically between them and Thundercracker.
He's not sure if the problem is he himself, given who he has been in not too far off past, or they're all tiptoeing around him because of Starscream.

No surprise, his closest friend and confidant has been Drift, who dutifully checks up on him with decent frequency.
As is common, Drift comes to join him as Thundercracker sits on his own in the corner of a less populated room, attempting to adjust to his environment but avoiding catching anyone's optics as to not encourage them approaching him.
It is very possible he creates his own self-fulfilling prophecy, he thinks.

"Good to see you out of your corner;" Drift says, sincerely, as he sits down beside the blue mech, "how are you holding up?"

"Um…" It should be a simple question, he thinks, but it really isnt. "Making progress?" Drift puts on an encouraging smile.

"That's a feat on it's own." the Autobot gives him a friendly and gentle shove, shoulder to shoulder. "I know it doesn't feel like it," he adds when he sees the seeker is about to protest, "but it is."

"Mm…"

"I wanted to tell you," Drift looks out across the room for a spell before turning back to his friend, "there are good news in all this."

Thundercracker meets the other's optics, good news is definitely something he could use, even though it definitely wouldn't be the news he wants to hear from someone. He brings his servo up to rub gently on his chassis over his spark.

Drift reads his silence as a cue to continue.

"Blurr is back on his pedes, finally," that is good news; "he's not the only one. The materials we got on that last mission have enabled Hoist and Jetfire to repair almost everyone who needed it." Drift positively glows from beneath the restrained joy on his face. "We've even got a handful of spares for future maintenance."

It's hard to explain the exact feeling filling Thundercracker's frame at the information, best description would be a weight off his shoulders, but it's mixed with the grief of what he lost for this to happen. Was it worth it?
Best not to linger.

"I'm glad." he says, with a smile, a genuine smile, but he doesn't doubt that Drift can see the sorrow hidden at the edges of his optics.

"I'd hope so, we couldn't have done it without you." Drift puts a servo on Thundercracker's forearm. "I'm serious, thank you."

The blue mech turns away but puts his own servo on top of Drift's, an acknowledgement.
Drift squeezes his arm and pulls his servo back. He keeps talking.

"No replacing limbs yet, unfortunately," he hums, "but everyone with limbs nearly falling off gets to keep theirs."

Thundercracker looks up ahead of him. On the other side of the room there's a yellow bot he vaguely recognises as someone by the name Sunstreaker talking with Chromedome. Sunstreaker is one of the bots with missing limbs. It's hard to miss, he hasn't even bothered to tidy up the cables and wires sticking out of his shoulderjoint. It's a gory mess, hard to look at but equally difficult to avert your gaze from. He wonders what could have happened, most mechs he's seen with missing limbs, be it Autobot or Decepticon, prefer covering the damage.

He lets his gaze float across the room toward the doorway as Chromia enters, talking with Springer and Perceptor who follow her in, Chromia is missing an optic since he saw her last. Or atleast it is damaged. She has elected to cover it up, a metalsheet neatly in place covering the hole where her optic should be. He hopes-

"She and Springer went off to sabotage a weaponsdelivery a few chords back. She got hit, she's fine, it's not because of you."

It's a little uncomfortable how good Drift has gotten at reading him.
Their optics lock.
Drift smirks.
Thundercracker grimaces.

"You need to get off your own case."

"Sure…"

"No one else is putting blame on you, you know." A new voice enters the conversation. "Aside from the good you did, we're absolutely putting the blame on you for that."

The duo look up to see a white and blue bot walk up to them.

"Thundercracker, meet Mirage."

Mirage, as the bot's name evidently is, holds out a servo. The seeker shakes it hesitantly.

"Pleasure…"

"It is, yeah." Drift shoots the third participant an exasperated look. "I'm joking, come on."

Thundercracker looks between the two, trying to pick up on any hostility, but finds that they're both smiling at eachother.

"How'd you like the cloaking device?" Mirage starts up again.

"Oh- uh… Efficient?" the seeker tilts his head in dismay, trying to not sound so fucking awkward. "It was really helpful," he settles on, "thank you."
He feels Drift watching him from the corner of his optic, he dares not look, worried what he'll see is concern.
The other has had a tendancy to be extra attentive at any mention of his last mission.

Mirage chuckles.

"That's the best I could hope for, glad to be of service."

"It was a joint effort-" Drift adds.

"Yeah, yeah, of me and Perceptor, I know, I'm not trying to take the spotlight." Mirage swats his servo at Drift. "Hey, complete change of topic, I heard that you managed to leave Blurr speechless a while back, how the frell did you manage that?"

"Oh, this is old news-"

"Yeah, but I haven't gotten to hear his side of it."

"I'm sure Thundercracker has more interesting stories than finding Blurr in an alley-"

"Well, I wanna know about the alley-"

Thundercracker feels lighter, listening to Drift and Mirage's back and forth.
It reminds him of Starscream and Skywarp, in a way that almost doesn't make him sad.

The tension evaporates.

Chapter Text

After a few chords of getting used to the Autobot base and his new acquaintances - comrades - Thundercracker is finally finding his bearings.
It's calm, mostly.
The seeker has been experiencing frequent anxiety spikes. Said anxiety spikes will on occasion escalate into full blown panic attacks. It's inconvenient, to say the least.

He tries, to the best of his ability, to be alone when he has a panic attack. It's a mostly successful endeavour; however, Drift is quick to notice whenever his mood plummets. Even when he feels he's hiding it well he'll catch Drift cautiously observing him. 
When he properly crashes, Drift is right there more often than he isn't, like a sentry. 
In one way, Thundercracker doesn't mind, he'd even say he's appreciative.
Drift is, without a doubt, the bot he trusts the most; in such a vulnerable state he couldn't feel safer than when Drift dutifully stays by his side.
A part of him feels a kinship with Drift, similar to the one he felt with Starscream. It's strange.
Still, despite the comfort he feels around the Autobot he would rather shoulder his burden alone.

Trust as he does, he doesn't want to add weight to Drift's already heavy shoulders as the impromptu leader of the Autobots. Thundercracker doesn't think it's official, but it seems most bots present look to him for guidance.
It's a lot of responsibility for someone who has his own baggage to carry. He doesn't need more to handle.

Thundercracker watches from the doorway as Drift speaks with a purple bot he's come to know as Nautica. Drift hasn't seen him, which is good news as Thundercracker senses the acidic feeling welling up inside him. It's disgustingly familiar at this point.
He retreats into a dark corner of the base, attempting to make sure he isn't seen but failing to muster enough focus, his legs feel heavy. Primus, his entire frame feels heavy.

As he reaches his hide-out - a room in the far off corner of the base where he rarely sees anyone go, probably because there's nothing but empty rooms - he catches himself on the wall, letting the cold metal guide him to the floor. The acid in him curls around his spark and sizzles in his mind.
He brings his servos up to grab at his helm as he attempts to cool down his already overheating systems, struggling to bring his frame out of survival mode.

He remembers the singular time Sunstreaker walked in on him in this sorry state. 

———

There's a servo on his shoulder. For once it isn't Drift.
Thundercracker's entire frame is shivering.

"Hey, you're gonna be okay."

The voice is kind, he's never heard it like that before. Sunstreaker usually has a bite about him.

"I want you to try something."
It's a suggestion, sure, but it's firm, bordering on urging. Thundercracker thinks that he'll do whatever if it helps end this pathetic ordeal.
He manages a nod, Sunstreaker continues.
"I want you to count five things you can see."

"I- What-" his voice almost catches in his voice-box, it's a struggle making his frame do anything he wants it to.

"Just try it."

Thundercracker glances around the room.

"Um.. you, m- my servos…" he grimaces as his processor works slower than a rusted through datapad. "The wall… the floor…" he falls silent in search of his final object.

"One more."

"That… loose bolt…"

"Now do four things you can hear."

Thundercracker wants to curl into a ball and let the world around him fade.

"My vents." It's the loudest thing around him, he's not sure how he's supposed to hear anything else. "I can't hear anything else-"

"You haven't even tried."

Thundercracker fights the urge to swing at Sunstreaker in his frustration, the yellow bot is only trying to help, the least he can do is humour him.

"Scrap- Uh…" he closes his optics and focuses best he can on anything his audials can pick up. If he focuses hard enough he can hear a soft whirring. "Your vents."

"Uh huh…"

"…there's someone talking outside…"

"Down the corridor, yeah…"

"…" he just now realises he's been rubbing his digit across the back of his servo, "metal on metal, my servos…"

"Good, three things you can touch."

"My servos." Easy, right at the front of his mind, "The wall against my back."

"There you go."

"Mm…" his optics remain close as he lets his servo fall and trace a crack in the floor. Sunstreaker watches him. "A crack in the floor."

"Two things you can smell."

"Does this thing have an end?"

"I'm obviously counting down, keep up, two things you can smell, Thundercracker."

"…dust…"

"…and…"

"…static."

"One thing you can taste."

"…" Thundercracker is suddenly very aware of his glossa inside his intake, he's never considered much the taste of things. "Metal."

"Good enough."

"What's the point of this?"

"You're calmer aren't you?"

He hadn't realised. Better? No; but definitely calmer. The heaviness is still there but he feels tired more than he feels like he's being buried alive. His vents have stopped whirring as loud as well.

"How'd you learn that?"

"It's uh… I picked it up on earth. Something humans do, apparently it works for us too."

"Humans aren't all that bad, huh…"

"Agree to disagree."

Sunstreaker's statement carries resentment, Thundercracker feels the urge to ask but decides against it. He focuses his energy instead on continuing the tapering down of his anxiety.

"Have you… used that trick for yourself?"

Sunstreaker takes long enough to answer that the seeker starts to regret his question. Evidently the Autobot isn't willing to discuss what goes on in his helm, as his eventual response demonstrates. He redirects focus to Thundercracker.

"It's a good trick if it works for you. I don't imagine you'll be free of your turmoil any time soon."

"…so much for optimism."

"I'm just saying. It's better if you're prepared to deal with it." Sunstreaker sits down beside him. "You're not just gonna… y'know… get over him."

"…you seem-" Thundercracker stops when Sunstreaker turns his face away from him.

"…did you ever meet Sideswipe?" the yellow bot hums.

"…briefly, I think…"

"…he saved my life." Sunstreaker turns his gaze forward and taps his helm on the wall behind him. "Last thing he did."

"…what was he to you?" though he couldn't say for sure, the weariness in Sunstreaker's voice feels like Sideswipe's death is implied.

"He was my twin."

"…can I ask what happened?"

"…" Sunstreaker stops tapping his helm on the wall and stares into the empty space ahead of him. "In that final battle… of the war, I mean, when we lost everyone…"

"…you were there?"

"Who wasn't? I know you were."

"…"

"I was cornered, someone got my arm, I can't remember who but they blasted it clean off. I was done for. And then-" Sunstreaker flexes his jaw a few times. "Sideswipe came out of nowhere and saved me. And he did so at the cost of his own life."

"…I'm sorry."

"He was always reckless, the glory was worth more than his safety; he had something to prove. Maybe that's my fault."

"I'm sure it wasn't…"

"No, it probably was. I didn't respect him. At least not to his face." He brings a servo up to rub at his face. "The point is-" he lets his servo fall to rest on his leg, "you won't just get over Starscream, and you need to be prepared for that. This is a part of you now."

Thundercracker holds his optics on Sunstreaker's for a beat before turning his gaze to the floor. He knows there is truth in the other's words, but he's not ready to accept it.

"I wish I could have brought you more supplies before all this went down." the seeker says instead, wanting to leave the grief behind him. Sunstreaker glances at the joint where his right arm should be. 

"Don't worry about it. You've done plenty." he brings his servo up to rest on the mess of wires and cables. "Honestly… A part of me wants to stay this way. It's not really rational but it sort of feels like I'll always remember Sideswipe's sacrifice through… This…"

"…a part of me wanted to keep the stains of energon from Starscream's… from his death… it felt like it was the last thing connecting me to him." He feels Sunstreaker turn to look at him but doesn't meet the other's gaze.

"Well… You'd still be a useful fighter with some dried energon on you. I'm less so with only one arm."

"I suppose…"

"…Starscream was… horrible, really… still, I'm sorry for your loss."

Thundercracker manages a weak smile.

"Thank you…"

———

Thundercracker attempts to replicate the technique Sunstreaker had shown him back then. He's used it a few times already, it works about 50% of the time. This time is not one of them.

He grits his dentae and shuts his optic-shutters as he tries to stop the pressure in him from suffocating him. He just wants time to stop, he wants all of this to stop. It's the feeling of dying without the relief of reaching the end of it, a perpetual moment before death.

The scraping of his digits against his helm is shrill inside his processor.

Suddenly there are servos on his shoulders.

The weight is familiar. It's not Drift, Drift is softer about it. The firm grip is easily recognisable as Chromedome.
It's not the first time the academic has found him like this. It wouldn't be the first time he's offered help.

There's something about the way the bot talks with him that calms him down faster than anyone else. His voice perhaps, the way he's so convinced that Thundercracker will be alright that Thundercracker can't help but share in the belief.

He's gotten bolder aswell. 
The first time Chromedome found him on his own he was careful, steady, similar to how Drift calms him, a guiding hand. Lately he's been firmer, an anchor, leaving no room for doubt, and offering safety.

"Thundercracker…" Chromedome's voice is softly urging him to come out of the darkness suffocating him. Thundercracker lets his servos feel their way down his helm and onto the other's servos on his shoulders. "I was wondering where you went off to, you know you don't need to hide when you get like this."

The seeker doesn't respond but grips Chromedome's forearms, steadying himself against the other's stable form. Chromedome lets him.

"You're okay."

Thundercracker wills himself to nod every so slightly. The feeling in his chassis pulses uncomfortably. He doesn't feel okay but he wants to believe he is.
Chromedome lets his helm hang closer to Thundercracker's. Speaking softly, warmly.

"You're going to be okay."

"I'm-…" the words catch in his voice-box.

"Don't push it."

Thundercracker lets his helm tap against Chromedome. They haven't been this close to each-otherr before, but it is a welcome intrusion. Chromedome's EM field extrudes a sense of serenity as the two knock against eachother.

"I'm going to be okay…" Thundercracker hears the whirring in his vents slow down. He doesn't understand how Chromedome has such a way with him but who is he to complain.
He opens his optic-shutters to glance up, tired, into the yellow visor in front of him, catching the silhouette of the other's optics behind it. It's a new sight.
The optics he's seeing are… tired… maybe… concerned, he thinks.

"You are…"

The clenching in his chassis goes from suffocating to burning. 

He feels something run down his face.

"Oh-" Chromedome seems almost startled, it takes only a nano-cycle for Thundercracker's processor to catch up to the fact that he's leaking. Crying.

He immediately goes to pull away.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-" he sputters as he backs up, the academic is quick to reassure him.

"Oh, no, don't worry, I'm sorry I just wasn't expecting it," Chromedome brings his servos to Thundercracker's face and wipes away his tears. "Really, I'm just concerned, you haven't cried before-"

"I'm sorry-"

"Stop apologising, you're okay, you can cry if you need to," Chromedome makes a move to pull Thundercracker into his arms, taking his time, making sure to give the seeker every opportunity to pull away. He doesn't. "You don't need to apologise…"

Thundercracker feels a little embarrassed when he's wrapped up in the other's embrace, but not enough to separate from him. It's beneath him, he thinks, but scrap if it doesn't feel comforting.
He turns, instead, into the embrace and allows himself this blessing in his despair, someone to hold him.
How could the ground swallow him when Chromedome keeps him safe above it?

The two mechs sit and hold each-other for a long while, in the dark room.

Chromedome is brought out of his trance, eventually, by a shadow at the door. His optics lock with Drift's, as the other pauses to observe. When Drift leaves only moments later, neither of them have spoken a singular word. 

Thundercracker remains blissfully unaware.