Author's note: This is my first fic ever. I hope you'll enjoy it.

STNDARD DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything aside for the plot... but that's a given, isn't it? -

And now, on with the fic!

Consequences

He was alone.

And it was better, he knew. He didn't want anyone to see him like this, not when they all had so much in their minds. Scared, shivering, he sat in a corner of the hangar, legs drawn to his chest, arms around them, face cushioned in his hands.

He couldn't believe what had happened. He just couldn't.

The metal door on the other side of the large room swished open, admitting a mech in. He didn't move as he heard the newcomer go directly towards him without so much as a pause in his strides, and not even concentrating, he could feel the gears moving as the other kneeled. A second later, a hand rested gently on his shoulder.

"Scavenger…"

The miner didn't try to pull away. He didn't seem too surprised, either; he knew that if there was one mech that would come and try to console him, it would be Scrapper. A co-worker, friend, and now gestalt-mate.

It was still so new, strange, and profoundly right to have bonded spark and body with the other Constructicons, to have formed Devastator. To feel the others within himself. He knew that Scrapper was worried about him without looking up. Just as Scrapper knew there was something terribly wrong with his friend without being in the same room, and had started to search for Scavenger.

"Scavenger…" the architect tried again, gently tightening his hold.

"…why…" Scavenger started; his voice was strained, muffled between his gauntlets "…why did he do that?"

For a moment Scrapper didn't understand what his friend was talking about. Then, a flash of a recent memory:

A giant hand circled him, making him unable to do anything. He tried to free himself, but it was futile. The panel at the back of his head was opened; he panicked then, trying to break that iron hold…

He shook his head, forcing the image out of his central processor. He didn't want to think of that. Ever again. Still, not one of the Constructicons was really ready to let go. It was too fresh, and everyone tried to deal with that his way.

Bonecrusher was outside, still totally enraged. He was letting his fury out in his way: destroying things. Knowing that no one was fit enough to hear Longhaul's griping, he had dragged the truck along. For one of the first times ever, Longhaul hadn't protested in any way about it.

Mixmaster had holed himself up in his laboratory, tinkering with the chemicals to relax. It wasn't working. After a full hour, nothing had blown up yet.

Scrapper and Hook had occupied themselves with coming up with a plan to get rid of their ex-friend Omega Supreme, until they noticed the huge amount of depression surrounding Scavenger.

After a brief discussion, Scrapper had gone to search his team-mate while the engineer remained to straighten a few points of the plan - It is good just as it is now, thought the architect irritably.

Scavenger shuddered, bringing Scrapper back to the present. He looked down at the emotional wreck that was his comrade, and moved his hand so to encircle both of his shoulders, pulling him into an one-way embrace.

"…why…?" Scavenger sobbed again, unresisting, leaning against Scrapper's chest. His trembling eased off a little, shovel lightly scraping the floor.

"…we all knew that… he…would be furious when he found out about Crystal City."

Scavenger noticed the small pause, and felt grateful for the architect's tact. He wasn't ready to hear Omega Supreme's name spoken out aloud, not yet.

"Furious… yes, I can understand… wanting to beat us… too… but that was… was…" reprogramming, he tried to say, but couldn't, and wouldn't, speak the word aloud.

It was heard nonetheless. Involuntarily, Scrapper shivered. He, too, hadn't thought that Omega Supreme would have gone that far. None of the Constructicons had.

Reprogramming was one of the worst crimes that there were on Cybertron: it was like a mindwash, the possibility to wipe memories and change parts of the personality, perverting one's original mindset. The majority of the mindwiped people died insane after a few years in the best case.

"Stop squirming. This is for your own good…"

How could have he said a thing like that so calmly?

At that moment, the Constructicons were so enraged that they played along to fool Omega Supreme, then left him for the Robo-smasher. That thing was programmed to take minds, but Crystal City's ex-Guardian was too strong and resisted; it was not exactly what he had tried to do to the six green and purple mechs, but it was close. The brief battle had given the Constructicons the time they needed to leave, if nothing else…

"We are lucky, Scavenger."

"Eh…?" This time, he did look up at Scrapper.

"We are lucky," he repeated, squeezing Scavenger's shoulder gently, "because we are a gestalt. Six bonded mechs. Our strengths combined were more powerful than Omega's clumsy attempt."

"…I'm glad." Scavenger said, "I'm really glad that we formed Devastator. To be able to feel you five was worth the price." He finally relaxed, switching off his optic band.

Scrapper was glad to see - and feel - his friend letting it all go: what Omega had tried to do to them had been a harsh blow on someone like the steam-shovel, who was always trying to please everyone.

He had been uncertain about the destruction of Crystal City, one of their best works, but the possibility of becoming a gestalt had outweighted the consequences. The Constructicons as a group always came first, even though the Guardian had been their friend before that day.

Omega would be left behind and forgotten. Especially if Scrapper and Hook's plan worked…

Sensing the thoughts, Scavenger stirred, optic band brightening again to seriously look at the architect's own band. "I'd like to help you as much as I can."

"Mind reading, mmh?" Scrapper said kindly, "The prototype will be built by the six of us together, don't worry." He patted the miner's back encouragingly, then added: "If it all goes well, Omega Supreme will chase after the device for a long time."

"'Chase'?" Now the miner was curious. He figured the two had planned some kind of weapon.

"Oh, it's really simple. I and Hook had made the schematics of a little machine whose only purpose is to emit our specific energy signatures and fly incessantly through space. Once Omega picks up the signals, he will go after that, leaving us in peace."

Despite the fact that both of them had faceplates and visors instead of mouths and regular optics, they simply knew that the other was quite pleased of the plan by just looking at the tiny shifts in each other's body language, the way their visors were glowing softly.

"Let's go, there's work to do."