A/N: Hello! I know I like, just posted a Chapter, but I feel I owe it to you guys for not posting for so long before. Anyways, this Chapter is only. few hours after the last one, so Delta is all repaired, but he's still in stasis from...you know. Being skewered by Spider-lady's freaky legs. Also, I have this thing where when a Cybertronian gets a virus (since they're all computer-y and stuff) they have "vaccines" for them, but they still need to flush it out of their different systems. Much how like a human has to get the nasty flushed out of their body after being sick. So...yeah. Somewhat painful, very uncomfortable. That's what's going on in the first part of this Chapter.
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers in shape or form. I only own the story and any and all OCs in said story. If there's someone you're not familiar with, it's probably an OC.
PLEASE COMMENT! I NEED CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM TO MAKE MY STORIES (PRESENT, FUTURE, OR OTHERWISE) BETTER!
Dreadwing sighs as he shifts position on the chair. He looks at the prone form on the berth. Delta was hooked up to a spark monitor and Energon Drip, replenishing his reserves after losing so much before.
His fist curls. Airachnid was going to pay for her treachery. His only solace was that the psychotic Femme was nowhere near any of them anymore. If she managed to somehow return to the ship, Dreadwing would be sure to-
Whimpering brings his attention back to Delta, the young Mech shifting. His faceplate is twisted into a pained grimace even in stasis, his servo twitching. Dreadwing's optics soften. Airachnid had injected some of her venom into the leg that had injured his charge. Though they had the antidote—after that one incident involving half of the troops and a few Insecticons, they'd wanted to be prepared—it still had to be flushed out of his systems.
A very painful and uncomfortable thing.
He lifts his servo, placing it onto the warm helm. He ignores the condensation on the plating; instead scooting closer to the berth and leaning against it.
"It is alright, Delta. You are safe now." he whispers.
Though in stasis, Delta seems to hear him, relaxing. He looks up at the sound of the MedBay door opening, Megatron walking through. Dreadwing watches as the silver Warlord walks over to the two. He stops beside the berth.
"How is he?"
Dreadwing shifts once more, keeping his servo on Delta's helm.
"Knockout says he is lucky—Airachnid's strike missed any vital organs, but she did manage to inject some of her venom. He's in the middle of flushing out the remainder of it."
Megatron hums.
"I believe these last few months has been punishment enough, don't you?"
"My Lord?" Dreadwing's optics narrow slightly in confusion.
Megatron places his servos behind his back, "Though he did attack one of my officers, Delta also saved another—at the risk of his own life. I believe that is grounds for lifting the probationary period."
Dreadwing nods.
"Thank you, Lord Megatron. I will let him know when he wakes."
Megatron nods, turning and leaving the MedBay. Dreadwing lowers his helm, smiling. Everything was okay. Now all he needed way for Delta to wake up. Luckily he had all the time in the world to wait.
His whole body ached. Did Dreadwing put him through another intense training round? He focuses on his vents, his chest slowly rising and falling. But even that began to hurt.
Ow…
Suddenly, all of his senses come roaring back in one huge wave. His optics snap open as he jolts, pain erupting through his body. A pair of servos grabs him.
"Delta, calm! You are safe!"
His vents are ragged, his optics wide.
"D-Dreadwing…?"
The seeker sighs in relief.
"Yes, Delta. You are back on the Warship—you are safe."
Then, he pulls Delta towards him, wrapping his arms around him. He holds him close. Delta's optics widen. Memories come flooding back; seeing Airachnid, Breakdown, and Dreadwing leaving for a mission…attacking Soundwave in order to activate the GroundBridge…jumping in in front of Breakdown when Airachnid tried to skewer him with her freaky spider legs.
"Does…Does this mean you're not mad anymore?"
Dreadwing pulls away, his optics narrowing in confusion.
"Mad?"
Then, they soften, "Oh, Kistestvér. I was never mad. I was merely disappointed—it felt like you didn't trust us enough to tell us the secret you were keeping."
He hugs him once more.
"I am just glad you are alright."
Smiling, Delta sighs, optics closing as he relaxes in his Guardian's arms. He feels Dreadwing adjust his position, climbing onto the berth with him. Dreadwing holds him close, much like he'd do when Delta had a bad series of nightmares. The cobalt Mech begins to hum an old Cybertronian lullaby—one he knew by spark. Dreadwing closes his optics as he holds his charge close, relieved that he was still there.
Knockout finds them hours later, both fast asleep, but he doesn't have the spark to disturb them.
Google Translate:
1. KISTESTVÉR: Hungarian for "Little Brother"
