When Fowler delivered Scorpia to the base, she became very popular very quickly.
"She's so cute I'm gonna cryyyyyy." After so much squealing beforehand, Miko could only give whispers as she wrapped her arms around the sparkling as big as her whole body. Scorpia didn't seem to to mind, chirping as she tried to stretch her own servos around the human. Jack and Rafael were just as curious, but they knew better than to interrupt Miko finally getting her wish for a robot baby. Even Wheeljack only crouched near her, watching Scorpia's wide optics peering over the human's shoulder.
"Well, she's... big. I suppose that's healthy," June said from the sidelines, standing next to Agent Fowler.
"Damn sharp teeth too," he added, reaching down to rub at his gnawed ankle. Behind them, Ratchet and Airachnid stood side by side as Scorpia soaked up the attention.
"At least they like her," Airachnid muttered, filing her fangs together.
"A child of any species is hard to not fawn over," Ratchet said, watching Scorpia tug curiously on Miko's ponytails.
"Even an enemy's child?" Airachnid asked, wondering if she'd ever look at her daughter without seeing Megatron's shadow somewhere behind her.
"Not an enemy any more. After all, she takes most after you..." The medic trailed off, averting his optics, instantly giving Airachnid suspicions that he was hiding something from her, something about Scorpia. But she'd had enough shattering secrets to piece together already, she didn't need another.
In any case, Optimus returned before she could start any kind of interrogation. Behind him, in the shadow of another giant relic, trickled in Smokescreen, Bumblebee, Bulkhead, Arcee still suspended in her air of surprising calm...
And Dreadwing.
"What the slag is he doing here?!" Wheeljack formed a bristling wall in front of the returning Autobots, aiming his blaster even though he'd need to shoot through Bumblebee to even hit Dreadwing. It partly explained why the Seeker was wholly unbothered at the glowing threat.
"Lower your weapon, Wheeljack," Optimus commanded, doing the same with the hefty hammer balanced on his shoulders. Though the Wrecker wasn't known for obeying orders, he eventually pulled his blaster down when he realised he was outnumbered anyway. With everyone else equally confused, those who had humans instantly gravitating towards them, Optimus gave each of them one of his blanketing gazes, focusing especially on Airachnid and Ratchet as the medic pulled Scorpia out of the Seeker's line of sight.
"Dreadwing has decided to aid us in our efforts against Megatron," he announced.
"Only due to current circumstances," Dreadwing gruffly reminded him, sweeping an equally piercing glare over the team as they swelled around him, more suspicious than cautious. Airachnid tried to make herself into a shadow, until she knew what to make of Megatron's other most dangerous agent being so close to her. It seemed to work as Dreadwing simply ignored her, or perhaps just didn't notice she was there.
"Prime, would it kill you to call before you go off recruiting war machines?" Fowler groaned from somewhere at the front of the mass, more annoyed by the whole situation than anything else.
Dreadwing quirked an eyeridge at the human's complaining, leaning down slightly to spotlight his optics on him. "I remember you, fleshling." It was only an observation, but it was hard not to hear it as a threat when it came out of that scowl carved into the mech's face. Fowler was wise enough to back away behind the the relative safety of Smokescreen's legs, though Dreadwing's red stare still easily punched through the metal.
"And we're supposed to trust you?" Ratchet asked, snatching the Seeker's attention.
"If you wish," Dreadwing said. "Though apparently I'm not the only Decepticon you've taken in..." He'd known Airachnid was there the whole time from how quickly his glare snapped to her. Even as Optimus stepped between them, breaking the burning line of contact with the Forge dragging his servo down, Airachnid felt her spark still seizing itself.
"What do you know of Airachnid's defection?" Prime asked, with no small amount of warning in the question.
"You mean, what does Megatron know?" Dreadwing corrected, somewhat amused. "The fact that she is still alive was enough to enrage him. I doubt he cares much for other details."
Though her spark still spat out aches, Airachnid forced herself out of Optimus' shadow to face the Seeker herself. "And what about you, Dreadwing? What do you think of another traitor like yourself?"
He didn't seem shocked at being confronted, or even angered at her presence. He was a picture of pure passiveness as he answered. "I am impressed that you've survived this long." It was an edged compliment, one that suggested she should have been dead by now, something she already knew.
When it was clear Dreadwing had nothing more to add, Optimus turned towards the idle bots still guarding themselves from the former 'Cons optics. "Return to your duties, Autobots. Smokescreen, I will trust you to relay what you've learnt of the base to our new arrival."
"Got it, Optimus!" Smokescreen was fond of saluting to the Prime whenever he could, and he was already zooming off down the base's corridors with Dreadwing plodding behind.
"Stay away from my Wreckers or you're gonna regret it!" Miko hissed, pointing a lethal finger up at him as he walked past.
"Will I, now? I'm trembling in my casing," he deadpanned, not even glancing down at the human as she kept aiming at his back. It was only a slightly more hostile display than Wheeljack was giving, squeezing his glaring optics narrow as he growled under his vents.
"You believe this slag, Bulk?! The fragger kills Seaspray, kidnaps you, and now he's got a free snoopin' pass all over the damn base!"
Bulkhead only rumbled from his engine. "That's rich coming from someone who helped hide away another Con..."
"Hey, this is different and you know it-!" Wheeljack jabbed Bulkhead's chestplate and made himself a very likely target for being thrown into a wall, if not for Miko stepping in to shriek the two apart. Airachnid took advantage of the distraction to scoop up Scorpia from near Ratchet's peds, soothing her muffled whimpers as she listened to the exchange between the medic and the Prime.
"Optimus, doesn't this seem a little... convenient for you? One of Megatron's most loyal officers leaving him at the same time as him finding out Airachnid is with us?" Whether or not Ratchet noticed her in audio range, he didn't seem to mind her listening in. After all, she was part of the command circle.
"You suspect Dreadwing of working undercover?" Optimus asked.
"I didn't live this long by believing everything I was told."
"You have a point, old friend, but surely Dreadwing would not bring us such a powerful relic if he was only going to betray us." Optimus adjusted his grip on the Forge, gleaming gold under his palm and so similar to the Matrix Airachnid had seen, yet also much more alive. Maybe a Prime's touch is what brought it to life.
Ratchet was still skeptical as he eyed the relic. "I... suppose so... at least we can make proper use of the Forge."
Optimus nodded, hauling the hammer back over his shoulder (and narrowly avoiding accidentally smacking Wheeljack across the helm with its face). "For now I shall place it in the safety of the vaults with the Star Sabre." He turned to where Smokescreen and Dreadwing had disappeared into, as Airachnid tried to stop Scorpia squirming as she grabbed at the air towards him.
"You... did tell Smokescreen to stay away from the vaults, didn't you, Optimus?" Ratchet asked, causing Optimus to pause very suddenly down the corridor.
"...I did not." When he started moving again, it was with much more haste despite the hammer doing its best to slow him down. Airachnid liked to think that was Orion flashing back into existence, in all his awkward glory, while Ratchet just rolled his optics.
xx
Hours later Airachnid was still trying to piece together the day's events, trying to understand how a mech like Dreadwing could genuinely throw away years of allegiance, when he decided to sit himself down beside her. Everyone else had settled back into their own groups; Arcee with Jack and June, Bumblebee with Rafael and Scorpia chirping between them, Smokescreen with the hyperactive human trying to blend in with the Wreckers, and Optimus wearily discussing something with Fowler. Small wonder then that Dreadwing found himself in Airachnid's little corner of the base, tucked away from any questions other than those haunting their own processors.
"I see I've started a trend of treachery," she said quietly, after a stretch of appropriate silence.
Dreadwing let a growl hiss out his vents, but it was quiet. "We both have our reasons for leaving Megatron." Airachnid huffed in the closest thing she could offer to agreement, focusing on her claws as she scratched at the golden highlights. Her back legs were growing back, slowly, but they were still too short to effectively distract her.
"...You are very different from the femme I knew on Cybertron," Dreadwing confessed, again not quite as a compliment.
"I could say the same about you, one of Megatron's own bodyguards now sneaking behind his back." Airachnid didn't look at him, but she thought she felt air from his wings twitching.
"As I said... I had my reasons," he repeated.
"Does anyone need a reason to get away from him?" she asked, with more venom than she meant to let out. But thoughts of Megatron always filled her spark with something acidic.
She didn't know what to expect from Dreadwing, certainly not sympathy, but after a rumbling pause he gave small doses of it to her, as if he wasn't quite sure what to do with it. "I know little about what he did, but... I am sorry if he made you suffer."
He'd arrived to Earth long after she fell pregnant, but it was obvious he knew what had happened in his absence. For all she knew, Megatron gloated about it. "I think you already know he did much more than that," she snarled, scarring her palm with how tightly her claws clenched together. She might have cut right through her own wrist if Dreadwing's low voice didn't make every inch of her frame freeze in place.
"I know much more now than I did before... Elita."
Hearing her name before from Autobots, those who knew who she was supposed to be, didn't prepare her for hearing it from a Decepticon. Especially when there was no hatred, no rightful malice behind it; only a dull sorrow.
"...Optimus told you?" Airachnid hated that she had to whisper, else she didn't know what her vocaliser might do.
"With all the sincerity of a mech reunited with his true love," Dreadwing said. "I suppose, then... that you are not a traitor for returning to the Autobots."
If that was supposed to make her feel better, it failed miserably. Though she didn't know why he'd want to make her feel better... or why he was even here. "What do you want, Dreadwing?" She forced himself to face him now, even with her helm hanging heavy from her neck.
He blinked, surprised at the question, or maybe because she managed to meet his optics. "To restore our home in rightful hands."
"I mean, what do you want right now, from speaking to me?"
The longest pause came as he tried to answer, letting his wings hang limp down his back as his optics started to dim. "...I want to know how you accept everything you once believed being revealed as nothing but a lie."
To Airachnid, there was far too much familiar hurt in his voice for him to be lying. "You're assuming I've managed to accept it... even now, I don't know if I'm talking as Elita or Airachnid. Or if there's any real difference between the two."
"I understand the feeling," Dreadwing intoned as she crossed her servos over her knees.
"How could you possibly understand any of that?" she muttered, turning her face away from him again.
"You forget I am only a half of one spark," Dreadwing said. "Even as a fledgling, I... questioned which parts of my spark were my own, and which were simply taken from my brother. Whether it was possible to have a thought that was purely my own and not just influenced by him." He huffed out bitter air, almost laughing to himself as Airachnid turned back to him. "Ironic... it was that same struggle that helped push me away from Megatron."
"You didn't know how much of what you believed was just taken from him." Airachnid recited from a thought she once had far too long ago to count. Dreadwing let his wings flutter once as he nodded.
"Precisely. You never had a choice in joining the Decepticons, but I did. Skyquake, too. We..." He stopped, grunted annoyance at himself before correcting. "I joined because at the time, I believed it was a just cause. I thought we could bring a better era to our home... before we ended up destroying it."
Talk of Cybertron gave Airachnid ideas far too wise to come from herself. "Megatron managed to fool many bots at first. Most who should have known better are dead now."
"No thanks to us..." Dreadwing suddenly became very weak through a long sigh, as if the weight of his own wings was crushing him. "We know both the allure and pain of death, Airac... Elita. Losing my brother was, still is, an endless ache. I can't imagine what losing a sparkling felt like."
Airachnid blinked, a flash of confusion before she realised that Megatron didn't know about Scorpia. The only child he knew about was the one he killed. Grief and relief fought each other in her spark, with the latter winning out as she watched Scorpia try to waddle towards her, something flapping in her hand. "At least I only lost one of them."
Dreadwing followed her bright gaze, optics widening as if he'd just seen a tiny ghost. "...Twins?"
Airachnid nodded, reaching out to pull Scorpia into her lap. The sparkling fixed Dreadwing with a wide stare, glittering curiosity up at this strange sour-winged bot, with red optics somehow recognisable to her. Or so Airachnid feared as Dreadwing studied her daughter, watched her chomp small fangs around the braid of wires dangling out her helm.
"She is quite lovely," he decided, twitching a smile as she chirred at him. Airachnid let motherhood melt in her spark as it always did, took the flimsy white sheet clutched in Scorpia's hand just as the sparkling's attention was pulled somewhere else, to Optimus standing over them both.
"Is everything alright, Airachnid?" he asked, casting glances aside at Dreadwing.
"Of course." She narrowed her optics up at him, a silent complaint of overprotectiveness, but Dreadwing had already risen to make room for the Prime. He nodded to them both before going on his way, wings held carefully aloft as he waded across the foyer to another realm of privacy.
With Optimus now beside her, Airachnid looked down at what Scorpia had been holding. Some kind of very thin datapad, crossed with thick lines of black and purple and gold... a crude scribble of herself with a smile far too big for her face. Another depiction of Optimus towered over her, thick blocks of red and blue making up his body.
"Miko has been teaching her how to use crayons," Optimus explained, tracing himself on the paper with a smile.
"What are crayons? Some kind of... radioactive weapon?" Airachnid wasn't sure why her question made Optimus laugh.
"No, they're for drawing. Making pictures like these." He peeled another sheet out from under the first, this one scrawled with Wheeljack next to a Grimlock that took up the rest of the whole page. And another, and another, most featuring Airachnid with Scorpia as a smudge next to her, others crowded with Autobots and one devoted to just Arcee as blue smudges. Though the last ones were something very different... they were pink. The shape of Airachnid, but pink. They looked more like Elita than she felt.
"...At least it will keep her busy," Airachnid said, handing the sheaves of paper to Optimus as Scorpia yanked one of them out, the drawing of Arcee. Then she clambered back down from her mother's lap, stumbling in the direction of the blue femme as she silently sat near Jack.
"What did you say to Arcee this morning, Optimus?" Airachnid asked, watching Scorpia tug on Arcee's leg.
"I told her what she needed to hear," he replied, also observing.
"Which was?"
Optimus waited until Arcee had accepted the sparkling's gift, a distant smile on her face, before answering. "An apology from Primus."