This chapter of Wild Side is meant to go in-between the last chapter of Beast Saga and the one that will be coming out soon. This short chapter picks up after the Mayhem Squad has freed Airachnid from Shokaract's control and slipped away to hide.

We realized that Airachnid actually experienced something very traumatizing (ironically, much like she once traumatized Arcee), and needed time to sort through what happened to her before moving on to her role in the next chapter. I personally think the idea of being a puppet (somewhat akin to what Hawkeye experienced in Avengers, actually) would be a deeply scarring experience, which is why Airachnid is so affected in this chapter.

That's where this comes from.

A thing of Shreds and Patches

Rated T for discussion of past Shokaract and MECH-related trauma

"I think they're gone."

Saberback crouched at the mouth of the cave - little more than a crack in a wide old tree - and peered out into the jungle. The tell-tale glow of Ground Bridges testified to his previous statement: Shokaract had gone, and so had the Autobots. Running a clawed hand over his visage, the disagreeable mech turned to glance over his shoulder at his fellow fugitives. "Well, now what?"

Lazorbeak shrugged listlessly and picked at the bark beside him, and Crazybolt just looked at him with haunted optics. None of them wanted to acknowledge what had just happened, but there was no denying it: Shockwave had invented a device that could sever a processor's commands from its body, rendering them paralyzed unless the puppet-master decided they could move. Was there anything more horrifying for an independent being? To have all freedom of choice utterly removed, yet to still be alert, helpless to do anything but watch yourself act against your own will.

How long before that device was used against other Decepticons? Against them? Bazooka took in a shuddering intake of atmosphere before remarking that he had always known that Shockwave was a foul creature, but this was beyond anything he had imagined, and yet he felt he ought to have seen it coming. Especially after the Dinobot incident during the Cybertronian Exodus.

"Killer Punch, we cannot stay here," Bazooka warned, "Lord Megatron will be expecting us to report in soon, and he will want to know why we have not returned."

"Then we explain it to him then," the purple mech snarled with an uncharacteristic flair of temper, "But we don't go anywhere until Legs is ready!"

The femme in question had spun a web in the top of the hollowed-out tree-cave, and huddled in the center neither looking at nor speaking to anyone. She wrapped her arms around herself and repeated over and over in her mind a list of things that she hated.

She hated Shockwave for doing this to her.

She hated Arcee for pitying her.

She hated this new body that wasn't really hers.

She hated that she was flinching and crying out at every unfamiliar sound.

She hated herself for feeling so weak, for feeling fear - something she had never experienced before.

And she hated that she could not scrub away the memory of what it felt like to have someone else in her head, pulling the strings while even her thoughts were suppressed.

"Hey, you okay up there? You're not dead, right?" Saberback called up roughly from the ground. Airachnid scowled and pretended not to hear him. Did she look okay? What kind of question was that?!

"Back off, Saber," said Fractyl, quite unexpectedly, "If a madman experimented on you, would you be okay?"

Airachnid wanted to thank him for that, but she also wanted to gut him for pitying her. They all pitied her, she could see it in their optics. Well she didn't need their pity. She didn't need anyone.

"Well we cannae stay here too long, y'ken?" Lazorbeak spoke up abruptly. "She'll get over it. She's done worse tae her captives, Ah wager." He looked away as he spoke, as though he didn't quite believe his own words. A tense, angry silence filled the tree-cave, and with a heave of his powerful shoulders, Killer Punch sighed.

"Alright. You five get going. Tell Megatron I got delayed a little or something, but if you see Shockwave, keep your mouths shut on what happened here. He doesn't need to know anything about where Airachnid is."

"You're staying with her, boss?" Crazybolt asked quietly. "Bueno. Somebody needs to."

"I don't want your pity!" Airachnid snarled from over their heads. The frilled lizard shook his helm.

"It is not pity. I would want someone to do the same for me. Eso es todo lo que quise decir," Crazybolt changed from and scurried out of the tree before she could respond.

Saberback rolled his optics and muttered something about everyone going soft, then climbed out after Crazybolt. "Come on, idiot," he growled, dragging Fractyl along behind him.

Lazorbeak waddled a little closer to Killer Punch and murmured, "Mind yerself lad, she had a bad turn, aye, but that's no' a reason to trust her." He turned and followed the others out, leaving only Airachnid, Killer Punch, and Bazooka.

Of the other former Vehicons and Eradicons, Bazooka remembered best the spider's sadistic inclinations, and though he would not have wished Shokaract's control chip on anyone, he didn't precisely feel sorry for the femme. The bulky mech glared up at her and made a threatening gesture.

"If you double cross us or attempt to harm our leader, you will pay for it with your life, Airachnid."

The indigo frame curled into a tighter ball with a high shriek. "Don't! Just...don't."

Surprised by the reaction, Bazooka backed away and slipped out of the tree, requesting that Killer Punch call them frequently to let them all know he was safe. Like it or not, the Mayhem Squad was becoming less a strike team and more a somewhat dysfunctional family.

Airachnid tried to shut out the world again, chanting to herself the list of things she hated, but every word just drew her further into a crushing sense that nothing was the same, nor ever would be. She tried to hum some old tune from her homeworld in a desperate attempt to escape her own thoughts, but found that she could not remember a single note. She could do nothing now but sit and will herself not to tremble.

"Airachnid?"

She hummed tunelessly, hands clamped over her audial sensors. It didn't matter if it was a familiar voice. Just hearing her own name was enough to dredge up the memories of the transformation and subsequent loss of control, and all throughout Shokaract's mocking pronunciation of her designation.

"Sorry." Killer Punch seemed to realize what was making her uncomfortable as he climbed up the wall of the cave to be closer to her level. "Legs, I mean. You wanna talk?"

"Shut up, Breakdown. Leave me the scrap alone."

"Nobody wants to be alone, not really," he argued. "I mean, I'll leave if that's what you want me to do, but not until I know you're not going to do something stupid once I'm out of the way."

Two pairs of angry red optics glowered at him, but still the saurian Stunticon found a reason to smile. "Hey, your eyes are starting to fade back to pink again! That's great!" He sobered again quickly and settled on a ledge near her web. "I know what you want, Legs. It ain't pity, it's understanding. Believe it or not, I actually do know a little of what you're feeling."

"The Pit you do!" the femme choked on her bitter laugh, stumbling over the swear as much as over the forced smile.

Killer Punch didn't react to the vicious response. He merely gestured to his faceplates. "Remember the eye-patch? You know how I got that thing, right?" The somber tone in his voice caught Airachnid's attention, and she glanced up at him out of the corner of her optics.

"You let yourself get caught by a bunch of humans. Weakling." Somehow, the normal spite just wasn't in her words, but they both ignored this.

Servos flexed slowly as the styracosaurus looked down at his hands. Just being able to see out of both optics again was something he'd never dared to hope for. "Yeah, weakling, sure," he agreed wistfully. "You know I was awake when they did it? They immobilized me and turned off my pain receptors so I wouldn't make a lot of noise." Killer Punch made a sound that might've been a self-deprecating laugh. "Guess they didn't want to draw Autobot attention until they'd set their trap."

Still floating halfway in her own little world, Airachnid mumbled, "So what?"

"So I remember. So I know what it's like to not have any power. So I remember that need to escape."

The heavy mech shifted position to look directly at the femme. "Listen, I'm not a therapist. Knock Out isn't a therapist. None of us are. I don't know if my advice is good or bad, I just know I'm coping. But whatever. Listen, you've actually got a chance to escape. New form, new name, new past. That's what I did. Don't know if it was right, but it's what I did."

It was a thought. Leave Airachnid behind, pretend she'd never existed, or keep running from the memories until she was desperate enough to find a Cybertronian psychologist like Rung or something. Maybe it wasn't the best solution available to her, but it was the only she didn't hate so far. Whether out of some half-attempt to show gratitude or a conscious attempt to distance herself from her normal personality, Airachnid cleared her vents and turned to look Killer Punch in the eye.

"He used my name as an insult. When he was in my head, I mean. Went all through my processor and changed all the word associations in the programming to make it mean something awful." She reached up and pulled up the visor that had settled over the upper half of her face, revealing two of the four optics to be merely decorations. "I'm not going to let him keep that power over me," she declared with a sudden vehemence.

"Dang straight!" Killer Punch barked with a rough grin, "You're tougher than he is."

He watched carefully as Airachnid shuttered her optics and retreated into her processor, evidently doing a little re-programming. The closed, angry look on her features began to fade to something more wistful and bitter, and she opened her optics again.

"If anyone calls me by my old name, I won't answer. I've deleted it from my memory banks in its entirety," she spoke flatly and without emotion. A flare of defiance lit her optics as she announced, "You call me Blackarachnid from now on, got it Muscles?"

"Got it, Legs," he answered softly. "Hey, maybe when I go back to the Nemesis, we can pass you off as a Predacon who fell through that Rift-thing they keep talking about. I hear it's about to open again anyway."

"Maybe."

Outside, thunder cracked and rain began to fall in sheets. Within the tree that had grown into the rocks, Blackarachnid and Killer Punch sat in a silence that was less oppressive than it had been before, staring out at the jungle. After about an hour, the femme spoke, croaking slightly.

"You know, I actually met the human that took your optic."

"Yeah?" Killer Punch grunted.

"Mm. I was tempted to eviscerate him for hurting you. Professional courtesy."

The mech raised an eye ridge, slightly surprised by the news. "Yeah?" he repeated, "What stopped you?"

With a dramatic sigh in an attempt to convince Killer Punch that she was somehow miraculously back to normal, Blackarachnid shrugged. "Well, he offered me a deal. A chance to get revenge on Arcee and that stupid little human pet of hers, Jack."

"Hey, two for one. That's a pretty good deal!" Killer Punch joked, elbowing her slightly.

"Yes, I thought so too." The faintest hint of a smile crept across her faceplates. They lapsed into silence again.

If Blackarachnid moved closer to Killer Punch, he didn't say anything, and if he put his hand over hers, she didn't seem to notice. For the moment they were a pair of wounded sparks, hiding from the rain. There would be time enough to plot revenge tomorrow.