Hi! This is going to be - potentially - a series of short fics following some timeline centered on a Micromaster team, the Constructors. Enjoy.
Summary: Excavator fails to check in.
"Worry often gives a small thing a big shadow" - Proverb
Knockout had been left back at the bunker for obvious reasons, and Grit had stayed with him, knowing better than even the other Constructors his partner's penchant for losing consciousness at the absolute worst moments. They were the only ones, however, since Hammer had a duty to look after his mechs, and with Hammer out in that storm Sledge wouldn't have stayed behind even if under direct orders from Megatron himself, and Stonecruncher…well, there was just no reasoning with Stonecruncher some days. The only one who stood a chance at it was the reason they were all in this mess anyway.
So Grit stayed behind with Knockout, just in case Excavator turned up while everyone else was out gallivanting around looking for him. It wouldn't be a surprise if he did, was Grit's rather sour opinion. Leave it to Excavator to stir everyone into a frenzy right over his head and never even realize it. He'd probably walk right through those doors any klick now with a pile of the best rocks in his arms, asking Grit where everyone was in that soft way of his. It was slagging embarrassing behavior for a Decepticon, since Excavator hadn't ever figured out how to be quietly menacing instead of just quiet. If it weren't for him being a Constructor and having Stonecruncher as a partner, Grit was certain Excavator would have been dead by now. Too quiet, too soft, too eager, too oblivious, too small, and too much of every-fragging-thing he shouldn't be.
He was, in other words, nothing more than living, walking, talking scrap metal in the optics of most Decepticons. Useful, sure, but since when did that save anyone? Especially when they were Micromasters. Especially when they could be even more useful as spare parts. Or target practice. No better than slag.
Slag.
Grit scraped viciously at his tools with a spare cleaning cloth, a growl caught in his vocalizer. Knockout shifted quietly beside him, nervously twisting a clump of metal wire into something interesting-looking and ultimately useless. He'd prattled on for awhile, about how Excavator was sure to be fine and the others would be back soon. His favorite topic had been how the constant electrical storm that this pit-forsaken planet was privy to wasn't even that bad today, so he bet no one would even need burn-repairs. But then he'd gone quiet, because even Knockout was Decepticon enough to know how bad this whole situation looked and Decepticon enough to know when to shut up, because all the optimism in the universe wasn't going to change that.
Bad enough that Hammer probably wouldn't even punish Stonecruncher too badly for the damage he'd done to his work station when he'd found out Excavator had never checked in. He probably wouldn't punish him at all, even if someone ended up dead during this little search, as long as that someone wouldn't be missed too much and the evidence wasn't particularly obvious.
Bad enough that Sledge had left Grit a message a little while ago – text, so Knockout couldn't overhear and get excited in all the wrong ways – that he'd found Excavator's site. And nothing else.
"Don't get your hopes up," he'd said without saying. And, more importantly, "Don't tell Stonecruncher."
Grit roughly pieced the tool in his hands – a scanner, he realized now – back to together and reached for another random item that was probably already clean but he didn't care. Don't tell Stonecruncher, because Stonecruncher, the little glitch, was likely to do something rash and stupid and suicidal if he had anymore reason to worry than he already did. It was a miracle nothing had happened so far, because pit knew Stonecruncher didn't have a single bit of sense in that head of his.
Knockout handed him a new cloth, muttering something about how the others would probably be back any minute now so he was going to try and clear a space on Excavator's table for whatever new materials he'd found, since he probably didn't have any room anymore. Grit grunted his acknowledgement but didn't look up, attacking the shining wrench with the vengeance.
Weak little slagger.
He had better walk through that door soon.
