If the elevator had taken a nanoklick longer to open its doors, Optimus might have destroyed the interior. The cool underground air rushed in and bathed his frame, taking away at least some of the heat radiating from his spark, and he forced his digits to curl out of the deep indents they left in his palms.

It wasn't knowing Elita had been with other mechs before him that enraged him- no, even Orion Pax wasn't so naive to think a femme as beautiful as her wouldn't have interfaced before. It was the thought of mechs paying for the privilege, and her having no choice but to accept them. It symbolised everything wrong with the Golden Age, everything that he'd sought to fix with Megatron by his side.

Yet all they did was force the hidden, gilded filth and corruption of Cybertron to rise to the surface, like a poison in the planet's roots bubbling through its skin. Optimus chewed on a heavy sigh, raising his shoulders lest his whole frame collapse shaking, and was about to make an early retirement to his quarters when he heard a chuckle from the medbay.

"Tell ya' what, Bulk, I just might be able to beat your push-up record while you're stuck here."

Then another, less powerful laugh weighed down with a cough. "You couldn't beat it even if I lost both my servos, Jackie." As Optimus approached, he saw Bulkhead in the cradle of the surgical table with Wheeljack opposite, sitting on a desk. Thankfully Ratchet wasn't nearby to threaten the Wrecker with surgically removing his aft plates and replacing them with glass.

"Bulkhead, Wheeljack," Optimus greeted, trying to let his grip on anger slip away and the growl in his vocaliser evaporate. "I did not see your ship overhead."

Wheeljack inclined his helm in his own version of greeting. "I made a low landin' for once. Figured I'd try to keep myself hidden for now."

"Did you see Miko up there, Optimus?" Bulkhead asked, trying to sit up despite the pain it obviously caused him. Despite that, there was an undeniable light of concern in his optics overriding anything else.
"I did," Optimus said. "Arcee is currently consoling her. I believe time will let her recover, just as it will do for you, Bulkhead." Seeing the big mech exhale contently, he turned to Wheeljack now. "How long have you been here?"

"Just arrived five klicks ago," Wheeljack answered, pushing off his makeshift seat and leaving a very large and conspicuous dent in the table's surface. "But now that ya' mention it, I should be goin'."

"Aw, come on, Jackie!" Bulkhead protested. "I'm not that put out, I can manage a game or two of lobbing-"

Wheeljack dismissed the insistence with a wave of his servo. "Nah, Bulk, you need all your strength for your nanites. Just focus on gettin' better, alright?"

Bulkhead almost pouted, and even crossed his servos over as much as his chest would allow. "Fine... even though you sound like that medic girlfriend you used to have."

Wheeljack cringed and shook his shoulders as he left the medbay. "Don't remind me, she was Ratchet's sister..." He gave a wave of farewell to Bulkhead, and just as Optimus was realising how much that explained about the medic's dislike for the Wrecker, he was being summoned over by him.

"Before I go, Optimus, you, uh, got a klick?" Wheeljack asked quietly, jerking his helm over to a corner just out of range of Bulkhead's audios. Optimus nodded, and the Wrecker's expression seemed to darken the further he went away from the medbay.

"Bulk said..." Wheeljack had to cough before speaking again. "He said the one who got him was Starscream, and some kinda pet Insecticon. Is that true?"
Optimus nodded, not seeing any way he could contradict it. "Though if you wish to exact revenge against them, I'm afraid I have seen both perish during a mission I undertook." It was a slight lie, as he didn't know for sure if Starscream was taken out by the explosion or if he was still wandering the bottom of the ocean, but it was what the Wrecker did know that would end up killing him somehow.
"That so?" Wheeljack frowned, optics lowering for a few nanoklicks before pulling back up with a new fiery gleam of certainty in them. "Well, we both know where there's one bug, there's usually a hundred of them. And what's to say they won't all go right back to Megatron if we don't get rid of them?"

"You will struggle to hunt so many creatures down, if they exist," Optimus pointed out, only to be answered by a huffed snort.

"You think I just sit on my aft all day down here, Prime?" Wheeljack asked, hands squaring on his hips as if trying to match Optimus' size. "If anyone 'round here knows how to find 'em, it's me. And I ain't stoppin' til' they're all extinct."

Though he knew the Insecticons could become a serious threat if controlled by Megatron, Optimus was still uncertain about allowing a one-mech extermination team after them. "And what will you gain from it, Wheeljack?"

The Wrecker just shrugged. "It's somethin' to do. Keeps my processor off a certain... mutual interest of ours."

Optimus felt his optic lids crease even as the light behind them burned brighter. "You wish to visit her at a time like this?" In an effort to make himself quieter his voice dropped an octave, and before he could set it right Wheeljack seemed to notice the dormant growl at the edge of his vocaliser.

"I think I have a damn right to," the Wrecker said, adjusting his own voice to reflect Prime's and throwing a digit behind him in Bumblebee's direction, while the scout was busy staring at something on Rafael's laptop. "Even ol' Bug Boy over there has seen more of her than me recently."

Optimus tried to cover his groan with an innocent sigh. He wouldn't even ask how Wheeljack knew of Bumblebee stumbling over their secret. "What exactly is your relationship to her?" he asked instead, though from the reply he recieved he might as well have asked Wheeljack to shoot his own carrier.

"None of your damn business, is what it is." When the Wrecker tried to make for the exit tunnel, he found a red servo thicker than his waist blocking the way. Optimus practically bristled at him, though he wasn't quite sure why. He just couldn't trust putting a mech like Wheeljack alone with Airachnid, even if he posed no real threat to her. In any other situation, it might have been jealousy controlling him, but he couldn't think of anything he would be jealous of. It wasn't that long since he'd last met with Airachnid, after all...

"You may not be under my command, Wheeljack," he said carefully, pushing all reasons plagueing his processor to one side. "But I have the 'damn' right to know why you are so insistent on visiting my charges."

For a few tense nanoklicks Wheeljack seemed intent on staring the Prime down, but he soon realised it was a futile prospect. His gaze lowered as his vents huffed stubbornly. "It's like I told ya'. We have a history. And if you were stuck on an island with your arch enemy bein' the only thing between you and the Allspark, I'm sure you'd want a familiar face nearby as well." When he looked up again it was with dull coals for optics, and the flare in Optimus' spark died down.

"...Very well," he eventually decided, pulling his servo back and letting the Wrecker pass. "There is a point at the south of the island that should serve as a safe landing space. Give my regards to her."

Wheeljack snorted over the whirr of his transformation cog. "That all you wanna say to her?" He was driving away before Optimus could ask what he meant, and at the same time the elevator hissed open to admit a tired-looking Arcee.

"Optimus," she said, noticing the Prime to her left. "I... think I've managed to calm Miko down. She said she'd stay up a little longer, to watch the sunset."

Optimus nodded. He was overdue for some good news. "Excellent work, Arcee."

Though the femme's faceplate was bright with the praise, her optics remained cloudy and reluctant to meet his own. "How much... did you hear up there?" she asked.
Optimus's digits clenched together again, but it seemed his anger had burned itself out by now. All that was left was a hard charred lump near his spark. "That does not matter," he answered.

Though she kept her faceplate blank, he could see Arcee's relief filling her optics with a fresh light. "I guess it doesn't," she agreed. Optimus peered over her shoulder at where Wheeljack left tire marks on the ground, still pondering his parting words and trying to make sense of why he'd felt insistent on keeping him away from Airachnid.

"I believe I will retire to my quarters early this evening," he announced to Arcee, before he'd end up giving himself a helm ache. "I will leave you and the others to do as you see fit."

Arcee nodded as he turned to go deeper into the base. "Good night, Optimus."

xx

Though Grimlock trampled an acre and gnashed his denta to pieces when he found the hot spring hidden at the foot of the tallest mountain around, Airachnid could barely bring herself to leave the warm embrace of the water and its thick veils of steam. The liquid soaked into her protoform and nodes, washing away the ache from her joints and the bruises mottling her skin. Even Scorpia enjoyed the pool, though Airachnid confined her to the rocky edge of it and let her splash away.

"Hot water make you go extinct!" Grimlock insisted from the treeline, digging the ground into mud with nervous claws.

"Sure it will, Grimmy..." The spider sighed and settled herself against the opposite edge, two remaining legs draping over it while her other stubby rods submerged themselves in the water. Most bots were right to avoid water, considering how quickly it could rust through armour and weak protoform, but times like this made Airachnid glad to have some organic in her. She could almost feel stress collecting in coolant beads on her protoform and being lost in the pool. It almost compensated for going without Optimus' company for longer than ever before.

Then again, water couldn't feed her. Pride stopped her from comming Optimus for a better explanation than 'Autobot duties' keeping him away, but she was sure to run out of energon by the time he carved out some free time for himself. Not to mention how Scorpia missed him, twisting her braid in her hands and calling quietly for 'Oppy' near where the Ground Bridge usually spawned. To be expected, since for all she knew the Prime was her actual sire, but there was only so much Airachnid could distract her with before her spark started keening as well.

Even now, her chamber held a lonely pulse that all the hot spring water in the world couldn't soothe. She opened her optics, letting her helm tip back against a stone with her whole body submerged, and tried to content herself with watching Scorpia blow bubbles. That didn't last long, as a sharp rending of metal made her sit up and stamp over to Grimlock, still streaming water over her naked protoform. Recognising the obsidian plates under the Dinobot's chin covered with his saliva, Airachnid waited until he noticed her with very guilty optics.

"Grimlock, my armour is not a chew toy," she scolded, snatching the set from his maw and keeping it at servo length as she grimaced at the smattering of dents and drool all over it.

"Sorry, spider lady..." Grimlock grunted, turning his teeth onto a poor palm tree instead after an even guiltier glance over her bare chestplates. Airachnid rolled her optics and dunked her armour into the pool, trying to scrub off the stubborn saliva and the stench of rotten vegetation steeped into Grimlock's mouth. Though the sun was on its way to setting, some stray rays made it through the surrounding trees and dried her protoform for her by the time she'd finished. She set the plates out to dry, away from Grimlock this time, and pulled Scorpia up into her arms. The sparkling nuzzled close to the warmth of her protoform, shivering slightly due to her own soaked skin. Covering her with a hand, Airachnid knelt in the underbrush to find her daughter's own armour, thankfully too small for their Dinobot to get much out of biting.

But when she spotted the iridescent purple plates, they felt far too light in her grip. It was like holding paper and, when she passed the flat of a talon over a chestplate, seemed just as fragile. She'd noticed something like it when she was taking Scorpia's armour off, but thought it was just normal for sparkling plates to be so soft. Now holding it free of protoform underneath, she thought it would crumble in her grip.

That would be something to ask Ratchet about, if Optimus dared to let the medic tag along behind him again. For now, she just tried to re-outfit her daughter as carefully as possible, sliding the chestplate clasp in place just as the sound of jet thrusters pealed overhead. Instintively she aimed a palm upwards, expecting a squad of aerial Vehicons or, Primus forbid, Starscream himself, to fall out of the sky, but what she saw was much bigger than a single bot. The Jackhammer stood out starkly, a sillhouette against the purple ceiling of sunset, and she found herself surprised that she could still recognise it. Grimlock was grumbling and starting to rise from his prone position, but one look at Airachnid told him that the shadow wasn't a threat.

"Looks like uncle Jackie's paying a visit at last," the spider said to herself, drawing a curious chirp from Scorpia. 'And why am I almost always naked when he decides to drop by?' she thought.

xx

And she returns at last, woooooh. I am reading and really appreciating all the reviews I've been getting recently, so no-one be worried to say if something doesn't seem right or if you think I could have written something better somehow. I'm mostly just relying on reader input, after all :P