Fire of Youth
Chapter 17
*Note to Kaleia: Grimwing didn't mean harsh as in simplistic or anything. He just likes languages with a certain...shall we say "musical lilt" to them? He likes phonetic languages better than ones like English, which is not phonetic – Navajo is phonetic, but so is Irish/Scottish Gaelic, Malay, and Polish to name a few. Phonetic just means that it sounds the same way you write it. English doesn't do that (red/read for example), though I will say that Navajo pronunciation depends heavily on volume and emphasis, because that can change the meaning.
Little sort of intermission. Don't worry. Another mission starts next chapter. :) You'll get your Infernus v. Predaking soon, Spiritstrike. ;3
"Forgiving does not erase the bitter past. A healed memory is not a deleted memory. Instead, forgiving what we cannot forget creates a new way to remember."
-Lewis B. Smeades
"Do not brood over your past mistakes and failures as this will only fill your mind with grief, regret and depression. Do not repeat them in the future."
-Swami Sivananda
Location: Area Fifty-One, Aircraft Hangar G
Exact Geographic Coordinates: Unavailable
General Location: Twenty-seven miles outside Rachel, Nevada
Time: 1800
"So you brought someone on site not authorized to be here, Prime? And you didn't think to check with me first? Do you realize you broke about three or four different protocols simultaneously by doing what you did?"
Infernus fidgeted nervously. Grimwing stood at his side, frowning a warning at General Bryce who stood at optic level to them both in another hangar emptied of occupants beforehand. Now, only two jets remained as silent witnesses. He noticed Grimwing's wing accents flicker faint red.
The Avioid was proving to be a staunch defender of him, but he also seemed pretty quick to flare whenever the Primeling was involved. He'd gotten a glimpse of the respectfully defendant personality in the hangar with Fowler. Thankfully Grimwing had quickly acclimated to Fowler's loud voice and his tendency to yell and be a little condescending with the team during the course of the afternoon – so Bluestreak had told him after repeatedly poking him awake. In his bestial optics, the federal liaison was less disrespectful and more brash and brave, unafraid to speak his mind to the Primeling. He did not mean disrespect. He was talking as one would with a close friend – the kind willing to yell, slap, and/or curse to get their point across.
With Bryce though? Yeah. Grimwing didn't like Bryce very well, and frankly neither did he. While the man was coldly respectful as befitting a high ranking military officer, his stiff-necked attitude and leaning towards faint hostility had set Grimwing's protectiveness off again. Fowler had been a little upset as was only warranted, but he'd been willing to cut him some slack on noticing that the Predacon was being examined by a medic. If there was one thing you didn't do, it was snatch a patient away from Ratchet in the middle of an exam just to be debriefed. And even after the exam, the fed had seemed content to just let the new guy relax and get used to the humans, his new Autobot clan, and generally become more comfortable to his surroundings.
"Bryce, I know I should've told you the instant he got here. But in case you didn't notice, he's hurt. I wanted to have Ratchet look him over before I did anything else. I mean, seriously – the guy's wing's pretty much hanging by a thread or three in case you didn't notice, and it's also totally paralyzed. Oh! and he's been living entirely alone for nearly four thousand years in a mountain cave without access to Energon. Did I mention that? He needed to have a medic have a look at him. You wouldn't snatch someone recovering from a lion mauling out of the hospital just to interrogate them, would you?"
The General's sang froid cracked a little at that.
"Alright, I'll admit to that. But how do we know he won't cause problems? He's a wild Predacon – got no allegiance. Who's to say this isn't some massive plot by Megatron to get in your good graces and assassinate you?"
"Uh. I'm sorry. Have you even met this guy?" Infernus argued, nearly snapping. "He turned traitor on the 'Cons. They tried to have him killed just because he questioned Shockwave's orders. I think that's fair reason to drop them and come over to us. Y'know. After being almost entirely alone for four thousand years give or take, unable to fly and barely getting by in the energy department in consequence. Point is, we can trust him. Yeah, he's a bit stand-offish, but he wouldn't hurt anybody. He's too civil for that."
Out of the corner of his optics he saw Grimwing flinch. He looked at him oddly. What had that been about?
"...Grimwing?" he asked warily.
The Avioid shook his helm. "Another matter for when we are finished here."
Bryce eyed Grimwing coldly, suspicion evident in his blue-grey eyes. The alien had looked distinctly guilty to him, and it seemed Infernus had caught it as well.
"So you would say he's a valuable asset to the team?" he continued.
"Totally. I mean, yeah he can't fly, but I think we'll find a way to get him airborne again. And trust me – he can fight just as well without it. Really strong, really fast, and he can absorb lightning – er, electricity I guess – and redirect it into an attack. If not for me barging in and telling him to knock if off, he probably would've electrocuted my friends."
"And why did he attack them?"
Infernus explained. That whole thing had been a massive miscommunication, and Grimwing didn't hold anything against them. He had a sense of honor and civility that he was nowhere close to reaching. Bluestreak had shot him in the faceplates – yeah, he'd gotten understandably pissed at that – but after the whole thing had been cleared up he'd been quick to forgive. He'd admitted to them that he sympathized with the Autobots after reading the report on the Praxus Slaughter. It was because of that report he'd started sympathizing with them in the first place, the reason he had started questioning Shockwave and the Decepticon cause, and the reason he'd been wounded and left for dead here.
Bryce considered. Grimwing seemed a bit volatile to him, but at the same time he was very sensible and intelligent. The number of humans he could name who could forgive a shotgun round to the face could be counted on one hand.
"If you can keep him under control –"
Grimwing emitted a low growl, optics narrowing. This tiny being still refused to trust him, even after the Prime had very kindly argued in his defense?
"If you can keep him under control, and ensure his good behavior while on the team, I don't see any reason for him not to stay. I'll need to take it up with the five stars, of course. He is unaligned, but I think you'll deal with that. I think they'll agree that your forces are heavily outnumbered against the 'Cons. One Pred isn't a huge difference in rank numbers, but it's better than nothing."
The Primeling resisted gusting a sigh of relief. And here he'd thought Bryce was going to be difficult about this.
"Thank you."
"He does still need to be debriefed about the situation though. Not just with the 'Cons, but the rules Fowler and the five stars set up about civilian/military interaction with your species. I'll handle that for you. I'm...not sure how you intend to keep a massive metal bird under the radar if you take him out in the field, especially if it's into a town or city. Ratchet and Prowl's coinciding reports say that Predacons can't take vehicle forms like your friends."
Infernus grimaced. He hadn't even considered that. But that was a good point – what if they needed him? There was no way Ratchet was going to let a handicapped Thunderbird onto the field, but what about once his wing was fixed? What then? He was pretty sure they couldn't just throw a tarp over him or something. Grimwing was just too big. Infernus himself had gone out on the field in Lerna without any major issues, but that was because it had been lacking humans and it had been dark out, and that had still been insanely risky.
"Yeeaah...heh. Um. I'll...I'll think of something. Maybe. Probably." He looked down, tapped two digits together and mumbled: "Hopefully..."
"Alright, then. Dismissed."
Turning, both Predacons left the hangar. Infernus heard Bryce clear his throat loudly and thus stopped, using a hand to bar Grimwing's path. The Avioid halted obediently. There was a flicker of faint confusion in his yellow optics.
"He'll debrief you on all the rules, Grim." he said quietly. "Won't be too long. Not too complicated stuff to follow. I'd tell you or I'd have Fowler tell you, but I think Bryce would feel better if he told you himself. He's a little...uppity like that. Also, pretty sure he's the guy in charge here. Rank is everything with human military people. Trust me on that." He quickly eyed Bryce out of the corner of his optics before telling him over short-band radio:
*Pretty please don't kill him either. He's more a cold jerk than Fowler is, but he's kinda the reason we even have a place to stay. Last thing we need right now on top of everything else is problems with the military. Okay?*
Grimwing bowed his helm in acknowledgement. He may not like the man personally, but he was showing his new clan generosity by providing them shelter and resources. He would at least try to tolerate him – for Infernus's sake if no one else's. He was proving himself to be noble, kind-sparked, protective as a territorial Canipid, and very people savvy, too. All good traits for a Predacon Prime to have in his opinion. Shame that his predecessor had passed though. He would've liked to meet him.
Nodding, the Primeling left the hangar with a short, friendly request to come find him when he was done. Grimwing watched the Draconian amble off until he was out of sight. And so, rather reluctantly, he turned his attention to the still-suspicious and cold General Bryce.
Infernus returned to the hangar and was promptly pounced from behind. Taken unawares, the Primeling yelped and instinctively grabbed the pouncer, flinging him over his shoulder and onto the ground.
The blue and grey figure emitted a whimpering moan from the floor where he lay flat on his backstrut. He blinked. Well, now he just felt bad.
"Oh, Primus – sorry, Blue! I didn't know it was you!" he apologized hastily. "Are you alright? I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"'M okay." Bluestreak managed as he sat up, gingerly massaging his helm. He accepted his sibling's extended hand and let him help him to his pedes. "Where's Grimwing?"
"Bryce is debriefing him. He should be back in a bit. I just hope I don't hear about him getting attacked by a Thunderbird in the next ten minutes. Guy's, like, super crazy defensive of me."
He looked around and noted that everyone was starting to cluster around him and ask what had happened while he'd been over there. Bryce hadn't given him any flak had he? He assured them Bryce had actually been pretty level-headed about the whole Grimwing situation. Their Avioid team mate was now being debriefed by Bryce as to all the rules and being brought up to speed about the Decepticon infestation. He was most pleased that Arcee was still further warming to him. He hoped that in time any of her residual mistrust and ice would fade entirely. They'd gotten off to a bit of a rocky start even before her attack on him.
From the catwalks, the humans smiled and waved at him, and smiled back.
"So our bird's turning into a bit of a body guard for you, huh?" Fowler grinned, leaning onto the railing.
Against his will he thought back on Grimwing's flinch at his words of "he'd never hurt anybody." A cold chill seemed to sweep over him, similar to the strange chill he'd felt in the cavern where Optimus had died. Something had been in there that had made him uncomfortable, and a suspicion was slowly budding in his mind almost against his will. He didn't want to believe the courteous Avioid would...but the guilt in his optics when he'd flinched would explain that reaction, and electricity was naturally hard to control...
He shook his helm to clear it of such dark thoughts. Grimwing had said he would explain after he was done with Bryce. He would hold him to that.
"Yeah, pretty much." he agreed. He turned his attention to the little brainiac who'd helped find Grimwing. "Hey, Raf. You got any more 'monsters' for us to hunt down?"
"I've actually been with the others most of the day. Military's arranging stuff for us to stay on site till our families find a house. So I haven't really had the chance. Most I was doing was looking at some of the well known monsters related to Hercules myths (because a lot of those were named creatures and had at least vague areas where they lived) and reading into a few of them. Sorry."
Infernus's helm tilted to the side. "Which ones did you read into?"
"Hind of Ceryneia, Erymanthian Boar, Cretan Bull, the Chimera, aand Cerberus." Raf counted on his fingers as he spoke. "But unfortunately none of those except the Chimera had its location narrowed down to one place. All the others kind of just...either they were never written down or they wandered so much they prevented a single location from being used. I mean, one of 'em supposedly is the guard dog to the Underworld, so I'm not even sure about that one. Chimera was in Lycia in Asia Minor. Doesn't narrow it down further though, so I don't know how useful that really is. That's a pretty big area."
The Primeling smiled. "Thanks anyway. Besides, if we can't narrow it down I kinda doubt the 'Cons will."
He could've sworn he heard Alpha Trion cough 'monitoring' under his breath. He was torn between rolling his optics and groaning in realization, electing in the end to perform neither action. But how was he supposed to compete with Shockwave and his...what, ID chips or something? That one-opticed wacko could find them easily whereas he and his team would have to search with a fine-toothed comb to find those Predacons. How could he beat that? Luckily (perhaps conveniently) his mind was drawn to other things as the tell-tale thuds of a Cybertronian's pedefalls met his audials.
"Prime." Grimwing bowed his helm in greeting.
Infernus went over to him. Though he said nothing, his optics held a silent request for answers. The Avioid imperceptibly nodded, the same guilt from earlier briefly flashing in his yellow gaze. Grimwing brushed past him and requested Ratchet open one of his groundbridges into his cavern home, supplying coordinates for him to use. The medic gave him an odd look but complied, and the necessary wormhole opened.
"Come." said Grimwing simply, motioning to Infernus. He quickly vanished inside.
"Um...be back in a bit?" the Primeling hazarded. Then he, too, vanished into the portal.
Grimwing was equal parts pleased to be back in his home and horrified of having to explain to the Prime about his past acts. Primes, per their title of being chosen avatars of Primus himself, protected life no matter the form it took. That he was going to have to tell him that he had ended five lives in the past...his wrath might be swift – and entirely justified.
"Don't know how you stand being in the dark all the time." the young Prime commented. To Grimwing's hypersensitive optics his white, fire-accented frame was easy to pick out in conjunction with his bright blue optics. In the dark, he rather resembled some young spirit protector. "Seems kinda gloomy if you ask me."
"Bright lights tend to cause small amounts of damage to my optical fibers. Not massive amounts, but the damage is cumulative. I thus avoid being in regions of massive photonic emission, which unfortunately your hangar has via the artificial lighting. I may need a means to counteract that. I cannot ask you to live in near total darkness on my behalf."
"Maybe Ratchet can make you an optic visor or something? To dim the lights?"
"Perhaps."
He silently went about collecting his copper art pieces – things he'd done to relax himself before slipping into deep stasis. Despite not looking he could feel the Prime's bright blue gaze watching him closely. He idly noticed one of the art pieces was missing.
"Grim, why'd you bring me here?" Infernus asked softly.
The Avioid stood back up to his full height. His entire frame sagged, a sigh escaping his vocalizer. He did not turn to face the Prime.
"You said to General Bryce that I was too civil to harm anyone. You saw me react to that, as did he. I brought you here to prove your assumption to be...flawed. I...I only ask you not be too harsh with me."
Wordlessly he directed his yellow optics to the five human-sized indentations in the stone. Almost instantaneously he felt Infernus's field flare with glyphs for horror, shock, sadness, pain, and disbelief. Grimwing braced himself for an infuriated tirade, one he felt he deserved. He had never forgiven himself for those mistakes. They still haunted him hundreds, even thousands of years later. Their cries still echoed in his audials, and their faces invaded his dreams.
A growl escaped the Prime's vocalizer. "What. Happened?" he demanded.
Grimwing hung his helm in guilt.
"It was never my intent to kill them, Prime. Believe me. After contact was lost with my adoptive tribe, I did not wish to be found. I knew from Shockwave that doses of electricity can cause damage to memory centers in Cybertronians, so I assumed the same was true for humans. I...lightning is not easy to control, and I did not realize that humans are far more sensitive to electrical discharge. I admit I am no scientist. It...it took me a few attempts to perfect the electro-shock treatment. These poor souls you see before you are the result of my ignorance, inexperience, and unchecked power. I had not the spark to leave them to the elements, and so they stay here, reminders to me to never to repeat my mistakes."
For upwards of five minutes not a sound escaped the young Prime other than forced calming air intakes. Grimwing dared not say any more even as his spark demanded he say that that these mistakes haunted him night and day. He gave in to it.
"Prime...they haunt me still. Even in death my mistakes torment me. I know no peace from them. Please believe me. I never meant to kill them." the Avioid added quietly.
Still the Prime said nothing. Just when he was about to give up hope of forgiveness (forgiveness he felt he did not deserve) the young white mech let out a soft sigh. His field calmed. His frame, before now tense, relaxed. A sort of...serene, sorrowful acceptance permeated the cool cavern air.
"I know you didn't mean to kill them, Grimwing. Like I said, you're too civil to do that sort of thing intentionally. But that doesn't change the fact that five humans died before you managed to figure out the correct dosage. Five dead."
"I am sorry, Infernus. Should you no longer desire me to be a part of your clan because of my acts, I will leave without protest."
He met the Prime's blue optics then. There was pain in them, great pain and sadness, and a flicker of justified anger, but he took startled note of a sad, accepting little smile on his lip-plates. He approached and laid a hand on his shoulder.
"No, Grimwing. We need you, and frankly you need us. You turned your back on the Decepticons because you found out how violent they are. You lost your wing in the process and nearly died. You've been alone for thousands of years, barely getting the energy you need to live in consequence. I don't hate you for what happened if that's what you think. Upset? Yes, but I know you didn't mean to kill anyone. You just didn't know how sensitive humans really are, and it took you a few tries to find the right dosage. But the dozens of other humans who've found you haven't died. Their memories were messed with. That's it. Their deaths weren't really in vain if they managed to save all those others."
The Avioid let a single tear slip from his optics in gratitude, relief, and happiness. He felt as if a mountain had been lifted off his shoulders.
"Thank you. For...for understanding. If there is anything I can do to make up for my mistakes, you need only say so."
Infernus managed a more genuine smile at him, telling him that that wasn't necessary. That had been Optimus's reasoning: one life in exchange for five more. It wasn't the best bargain ever, but it was better than everyone winding up dead. Besides, mistakes were a part of life. They happened. He'd made more than a few himself. He'd probably keep making mistakes because he was still learning the ropes of commanding. Not even a Prime was perfect. Pit, he certainly wasn't.
"And hey, you mentioned wanting to meet Optimus. Technically you already have and you're talkin' to him right now." he added. "And if you think that's too weird, you could always visit his grave. Ratchet and I have the coordinates. You wouldn't get a response that way, but still. Maybe you might? I dunno."
Grimwing's frown was replaced by a smile of his own. He bowed his helm respectfully, thanking him once more. This young mech was truly a Prime if he could find it in himself to forgive his lethal mistakes. And thanks to his words he understood he had been speaking with his predecessor the whole time. Perhaps...perhaps it had been he who had convinced Infernus that the past was in the past and there was no changing it – he could do naught but accept and move on. He knew very little how the Matrix worked, but Predacons themselves held deeply encoded spiritual beliefs.
Infernus jerked his helm towards the tunnel exit. "Come on. Leave the dead to rest. They've tortured you enough already. You ask me, that's punishment enough for your mistakes."
The Prime raised a hand to his helm and asked Ratchet for a 'bridge to Yosemite. Grimwing eyed him curiously. That was not where their home was.
[Why exactly?]
He did not respond aloud, using private frequency to reply back: [Let's just say Grim may want to apologize for...something he did in the past. Not just to me, but to him, too. Technically it took place while he was still alive. And...I promised him I'd visit whenever I had the chance. Now seems like a good time, since we got nothing going on right now.]
The old medic obliged him, and together the two Predacons stepped in.
Grimwing looked around at the unfamiliar landscape, happy he did not have to shield his optics from the bright sun. That alone told him he was no longer in his home territory. It somewhat resembled his mountainous home, but oh – it was tenfold more beautiful. Mountains arched their crooked backs high into the star-studded night sky and trees far taller than him stretched their limbs into the heavens, towering over him like stationary, leafy combiners. The music of night creatures danced on the winds in a primal chorus.
In front of him loomed a massive rocky feature – a lone mountain, separated from the rest but standing tall and proud, gazing out over the landscape.
His yellow optics widened. "Where...?"
"Yosemite National Park in California, the base of El Capitan. It was...one of his favorite places." Infernus admitted quietly. "Or so Ratchet said. I didn't know."
He looked at the Prime. "Is this where...?"
"Yeah. Right over there."
A clawed hand pointed to the base of the feature. Grimwing followed it, and his sensitive optics pinpointed something strange on one of the nearby rocks – an old cyber-glyph burned into the stone, ancient and rarely in use anymore. He did not know what it translated to. The winged dashes coming off the spiral told him it was highly spiritual, as wings connected with flight and freedom, and the spiral itself symbolized many things in Earthen and Cybertronian culture: surrender, emergence, and union with greater cosmic powers. Truly befitting.
And so he made his way over, kneeling before where the ground was faintly disturbed. He felt suddenly as if he was being watched – not malevolently, but benevolently. He smiled. Did the Prime have a connection with this place, having visited many times? Stories did say that a spark's energy could become tied to a place after a time if the mech or femme visited and stayed in a place often enough. Or was he simply watching from beyond, or even though the optics of his successor?
"You chose well, paladin." murmured the Avioid. "Hózhǫ́ náhásdlį́į́. I will guard him like Tsoodzil guards the land. It is the least I can do in repayment for his kindness. His kindness – and yours."
A warm breeze swept by him inexplicably, sweetened by the smell of blooming wildflowers. Grimwing shuttered his optics and drank in the sensation. He swore he heard a voice on the wind say "Thank you." He did not see the white Draconian mech behind him smiling softly. But he did see it when he rose and turned to face him.
"Ready to head back?" Infernus asked.
"Yes. I've said my peace to him. Thank you."
The Prime cocked his helm to one side inquisitively. "What for? I thought we agreed to put your past behind you."
"No, no. Not for that." Grimwing assured. "For allowing me to visit this place." He gestured around with him his arms. "It is a great honor to be allowed to visit the tomb of a Prime."
"Why wouldn't I? You're one of us. Any member of Team Prime is allowed here because, if you ask me, I think the poor guy's gonna get a little bored and or tired of listening to me all the livelong day, half of which involves me completely and utterly panicking the spark outta me. I...I think he'd appreciate being able to listen to someone else, and to be fair this is a little less awkward than you guys talking to me in order to get to him." admitted Infernus, rubbing his neck cables a bit shyly. "I just...I dunno. That would just feel really super weird?"
Grimwing managed a small chuckle. He briefly laid a hand on the Prime's shoulders.
"Come. Let us return to the living. Leave your predecessor to his sleep. He is not going anywhere."
Arcee turned from her conversation with Jack the instant she heard the groundbridge swirl open. Grimwing and Infernus stepped out, the former looking content and as if a mountain had been lifted from his shoulders. She hadn't realized until now he had been rather somber and, well, grim – no pun intended. She had a guess as to what had been dragging him down. She remembered the headstones carved with the plea for forgiveness.
"Where've you two been?" she demanded. "Why'd you guys go to Grimwing's cave a second time?"
"We were merely collecting a few of my belongings and...settling the past." the Avioid admitted. "Both goals were successful in their own right. You needn't worry. I will say that one of my belongings was missing. Do you happen to know where it might be?"
"If by 'belongings' you mean the strange pieces of copper metal with the terrestrial and Cybertronian glyphs and images on them, Arcee gave me one she collected." Ratchet said from his console. Without turning he held up the item in question. "Quite interesting. I never would've suspected a Predacon could be so inherently gifted in art. I read a few research reports before the War, but to see if confirmed...A hobby by chance? Or a talent? What were you using to carve them? Arcee, Bluestreak, and Ultra Magnus never observed any carving tools."
"Hobby that turned out to be oddly relaxing and useful to me. My talons occasionally were used to carve them, or simply the digits of my bipedal form. A good way to keep the foremost sharp in case of danger. And a means of remembering any stories my tribe or visitors had told me in the past."
Ratchet paused imperceptibly in his reading. That was interesting. He treated the copper cylinders and spheres almost like data pads. Did Grimwing simply not know how to write, and so resorted to pictographs instead? Of course, it had been postulated that Predacons perhaps had had a written language despite no clear evidence being found, but it was assumed that it was not so very different than the one modern day mechs used. Were pictographs their written language? Was this perhaps just a creative quirk and no more complicated than that?
"Ah." He felt the Predacon take the cylinder from him and thus he lowered his hand back down. He went on with his reading. Rafael hadn't had much luck with more powerful Greek monsters, so he was casting the search a little further afield – specifically Europe.
"Perhaps I could assist you, healer? I do know of some of the physical descriptions and behavior of other Predacons. I would be pleased to know if some of my kin still yet live, even if they are still allied with the Decepticons."
The medic invited him over with a wave of his hand.
"You guys have fun with the research. I'll take watch outside." Infernus said.
Transforming, the Primeling trotted outside, taking up a position off to the side of the hangar's entrance. Grimwing watched him for a moment before turning his focus back on the medic. He remembered his suggestion.
"Healer Ratchet?"
"Yes?"
"Is there...any way you could craft an optic visor for me?"
Ratchet's helm turned to face him, blue optics staring at him. "Yes. My exam did reveal your optics are hypersensitive to light. Normally diamond is used for such visors."
Fowler audibly sounded as if he'd just choked.
"But seeing as diamond is not as common on this planet as it is in Cybertron, we'll have to compensate with a substance of equal transparency but less hardness. Zircon might work...wouldn't be as sturdy as a diamond visor, but it would serve the intended purpose. Colored Zircon would work the best so long as it's a dark shade."
Fowler's choke died. "I'll have a chat with the requisition office. Zircon isn't super expensive, but it still costs a bit. But if it means helping Grim...I think Uncle Sam can spare some cash. Not exactly going to be helpful to us if he winds up blind as a bat."
Grimwing and Ratchet would've argued with him that bats weren't totally blind, but chose not to.
"Thank you. That would be most helpful." thanked the Avioid.
"In the morning though. Getting late." The federal agent stifled a yawn. "I think the on-site office is closed down."
The Avioid nodded and went back to his task of aiding the medic.
Author's Note: ArdentAspen over on DA drew a concept thingy of Grimwing! Check it out! :D
ardentaspen. deviantart art/Grimwing-600994041
