"Forgetting isn't enough. You can paddle away from the memories and think they are gone. But they will keep floating back, again and again and again. They circle you, like sharks. Until, unless, something, someone? Can do more than just cover the wound. "
Sara Zarr

The sun rising over the plains of the distant horizon was more than just a familiar sight by now, it was habit. Despite all the chaos and havoc that had taken place over the last two and half stellar cycles on this planet, powering on before dawn had more or less been his routine from Day 1. Something that hadn't been there from Day 1 was quietly snoring next to him, a warm body curled into his own, gray fur slightly mussed against his brown scales.

Dinobot exhaled, clearing out some of the dust that had settled in his vents overnight before slowly rising to his feet. Without the raptor's body to lean on, the rat rolled forward, falling into the indent left by Dinobot's much heavier bulk. Black beady eyes snapped open, a brief panicked squeak leaving the other bot's vocalizers as Rattrap frantically swung his head, optics quickly scanning over their camouflaged surroundings. Once he realized they weren't actually under attack, he scowled, tilting his furry little head to glare up at the raptor. "Would it kill ya to sleep in for once, chopperface?" He followed the statement up with a pointed yawn, exposing large incisors as his pink tail twitched behind him.

Dinobot rolled his optics and set about stretching his own gears and hinges underneath the organic hide of his beast form, carefully testing the flexibility of each joint in turn. "Our enemies will not wait for you to catch up on your beauty rest."

"Yeah well, maybe they should. It ain't like they wouldn't benefit too since they're all such ugly mother-" Rattrap was interrupted by another unconscious yawn and he groaned, settling back down in the scout nest to press his face against the mixture of leaves and tarps that made up the flooring. "'Sides, the big banana won't even check in 'til noon."

"Better to be proactive than reactive, vermin." Dinobot leaned over and reached down, grabbing Rattrap by his wrists and forcibly dragging the wriggling rodent out of the basin, almost knocking the shielding overhang out of place. Rattrap whined, but Dinobot ignored it, only releasing the other bot once he had been fully extracted from the scouting nest. "Our patrol starts now."

Rattrap continued to frown as he stood on his hind-legs, scrubbing at his optics with both hands. "Y'know, one day I'm gonna get ya ta take it easy, lizard lips. Can't be a soldier forever."

Humming, Dinobot looked back toward the sun whose rays were now stretching across the valley in wide yellow bands of light. For once, the rodent wasn't wrong. Eventually the war would end, but old conflicts were constantly recycled and replaced with new ones like ancient rock melted down into molten magma. For every stone that was swallowed and reclaimed by the planet's natural processes, two more emerged from the ever churning center.

War did not end. It merely went dormant.

It was the incessant beeping of the atmospheric pressure gauge that roused him from recharge, red optics blinking up at the slightly corroded panels of the shuttle's ceiling as the craft began to shake and shudder around him. Then he heard a screech of static quickly followed by Optimus' voice through the ship's communication network. "Maximals, prepare for rapid descent. We're entering Cybertronian airspace."

Cybertron.

A home that had never truly felt like home. After all, when you lived as a second-class citizen, a suspected criminal, a ticking time bomb, was it even possible to feel welcome among your own kind?

Sitting up, Dinobot left his sparse room and made for the command deck, stepping carefully as the ship rumbled and slowly began to lose its battle with gravity. Optimus and Rhinox were already locked into their chairs, Rhinox steering as Optimus spoke into the communication panel. "This is Optimus Primal of Ark Lifepod 291 requesting permission to land at docking bay 13893."

Dinobot walked over to the ape, standing behind him as the radio tower responded with, "Permission granted. Prepare your cargo and crew for inspection upon landing, Primal. The High Council is eager to speak with you."

Optimus winced, but nodded. "We'll catch you in a few cycles then. Optimus Primal out." He turned off the speaker and glanced back to the raptor. "You know they're going to put you in stasis-cuffs as soon as we land, right?"

"I assumed nothing less," Dinobot said, looking up toward the screen projection where they could slowly see the details of their world come into view as the heat and fog dissipated, giving way to vast swaths of cityscape and machinery that glinted like gold under the morning glare of their nearest star. "No doubt they wish to try me for all my transgressions prior to our conflict on Earth."

He always knew that coming back to Cybertron would have its consequences, both good and bad. However, remaining on proto-Earth would be an agonizingly long, lonely, and most importantly mediocre death sentence. He wouldn't have the resources nor the support needed to maintain himself (especially given the extent of his accumulated injuries) and there was no sense in ruling over what was nothing more than a primitive dust-ball. However, returning home meant subjecting himself to the judgement of the Maximal High Council and whatever punishment they deemed adequate for his extensive list of crimes.

"For bootin' up cold, boss monkey. Was the intercom schtick really necessary?" Dinobot twitched, glancing over his shoulder as Rattrap wandered onto the deck, trailed by a far more excited looking Cheetor who was practically bouncing against his bearings. "Next time, just lemme recharge through the slaggin' descent."

"Oh c'mon, Rattrap," Cheetor said with a toothy grin, nudging the rat's shoulder before sidestepping him to slid into his own seat. "Don't you wanna watch? It's the first time we'll have seen home in three whole stellar cycles!" The cat then glanced over to Dinobot and Optimus, pausing at their more sullen silence. "Uh...everything ok? You two look like you just swallowed some molten lead."

Sighing, Optimus gestured at him to strap in (Dinobot following suit without needing the direct order). "As nice as it is to be so close to home again, landing isn't going to be a simple command process, Cheetor. Dinobot may be a Maximal now, but the High Council won't pardon his record without a fight. At best, we can push back and hope for a reduced sentence, but there's no telling what their final call will be."

Immediately Cheetor's smile sank, shoulders slumping. "But...but Dinobot's done nothing but help us. We have more than enough proof that he's reformated." He swiveled around in his chair, noting the souring expressions of his comrades. "They've got to take the last few years into account. This war has to mean something to them."

Dinobot snorted and crossed his arms over his chestplate. "Do not fret on my behalf. I am fully prepared for the consequences, whatever they may be." After all, Maximal justice was not all that different from how Predacons operated. Both were equally cruel in their own unique ways, exchanging pain and suffering for forgiveness and redemption (or at least some twisted facsimile of it).

"We're still gonna fight for your freedom," Cheetor insisted, looking at Optimus with bright hopeful optics. "Right, big bot?"

Primal nodded in agreement, though his expression was far more stern and grounded than the cat's. "We're certainly going to do our best, Cheetor, but that means each of us will have to testify in his favor. Expect to be grilled."

A sardonic chuckle brought Dinobot's attention to Rattrap who just kicked back in his chair, crossing one shiny silver leg over the other. "Dealin' with the Council is gonna be a slaggin' cakewalk after all this crap. The real challenge is gonna be keepin' dinobutt over there on his best behavior while we try ta convince those rusted ol' junkheaps that he ain't a public menace." Rattrap sighed as he met Dinobot's optics with a sly smirk. "So hold off on the sword-swingin' an' teeth-gnashin' 'til we get this all squared away. Copy that, chopperface?"

Dinobot just curled his lip, purposefully exposing said teeth to the rat in a silent snarl as the pressure inside of the cabin began to drop. They all braced as their bolts and gears squeaked in protest, a mild discomfort that only lasted until they finally broke through the last layer of the atmosphere. His red optics flickered to the buildings below as they drew closer, recognizing the gleaming towers of Iacon and the landing bays that surrounded the edge of the bustling city-state. While he had not often visited the Maximal (formerly Autobot) capital, there wasn't a mech in the galaxy that hadn't heard of its Great Dome and the Celestial Spires.

Rhinox killed the engine and began to ease them down over their assigned docking bay, only stopping when the hull made contact with the airlock chambers connected to the loading station. The entire ship shuddered as the landing pads hit the ground and Rhinox exhaled, looking more than a little relieved as the vehicle was magnetically locked into place. "Well...we did it. We survived this mess and made it home in one piece." He smiled and Optimus returned the expression, clapping the other bot on the shoulder. "Almost feels like a dream."

"It is a little surreal," Optimus agreed, dropping his hand to unbuckle himself before standing. "But we can't relax just yet. We'll still have to-"

As he spoke, they all heard a distinct hydraulic hiss and the metallic stomping of multiple mechs ascending into the shuttle's lift. Dinobot tensed, talons curling into the armrests as he fought against his instinctive coding that told him to get up and defend his team against whatever invaders sought to infiltrate their ship. Optimus' smile fell as he approached the door leading out of the command deck, opening it just as a Iacon security bot on the opposite side raised their hand to knock. "Optimus Primal?" the bot asked, vocalizer slightly muffled by a shield-plate that covered their entire face.

Optimus nodded and the other mech raised a scanner to his Maximal insignia, confirming his identity via the serial number etched into the medallion. "I'm Captain Dredge. What remains of your crew?" they prompted, stepping aside to allow other similarly masked security mechs through. "Based on the reports left from your departure on the Axalon, you should have a total base crew of four and-" They paused, eyes flickering to Dinobot. "That's no Maximal."

"He is now," Optimus insisted, straightening the line of his shoulders as the security team approached the rest of the group with their scanners. "I'll draft a full report to explain the situation, but he's with my team." Dredge just furrowed their brow and pulled out a datapad, jotting down a few notes and uploading Optimus' scan into the memory bank.

Each Maximal presented their insignia for scanning and Dinobot reluctantly followed suit, glaring hard at the bot tasked with recording his data until they wisely stepped back out of his personal space. "This one isn't on the listed crew and his file is massive," the officer said with a hum, uploading Dinobot's scan to Dredge's datapad.

Dredge hummed and began to scroll through the record as more and more data populated. "I assume you were aware of this man's criminal history, Primal?"

Sighing, Optimus nodded. "We were willing to overlook it. Dinobot has proven his loyalty time and time again and his past certainly doesn't speak to the bot he is now." Then Optimus inhaled sharply, venting almost as rapidly to add, "I can confirm that we stand by our decision to integrate him into our squadron and are willing to go before the Council on his behalf."

Quirking one metallic brow, Dredge glanced around the room at the still-seated Maximals and said, "Regardless, we will still need to take him into custody, Primal. This unit was part of a known Predacon terrorist organization and any confidence you and your crew have in the true nature of his code does not negate that." They snapped their fingers and the same security mech who scanned Dinobot pulled out a pair of metal cuffs from inside his plated chest armor.

Despite the fact that he knew this would be coming, the sight of the restraints made Dinobot growl low and deep in his chassis, practically vibrating in his chair. The urge to snap, to bite, and tear bounced across his neural network in rapid succession, but he managed to stay strong, reluctantly letting go of the armrests so that his wrists could be cuffed. Immediately Dinobot felt his joints lock up as all access to any mode other than his current mech form was jammed. "Where am I to be housed while awaiting trial?" he snarled, letting the security guard unbuckle him from his chair and pull him up to stand. At least he was able to take comfort in the small satisfaction that even bound and locked in, he towered over the entire security team (a fact they seemed to also immediately take notice of too if their collective flinch was any indication).

"The holding cells," Dredge indicated, not glancing up from their datapad as they scribbled down more notes. "Search the rest of the ship. Confirm there are no stowaways and record all non-essential cargo before tending to the prisoner cuffed to the roof," they told their team who immediately saluted and left the command deck to further investigate the shuttle. Once alone, Dredge turned to Primal and sighed, deactivating their mask to reveal the more rounded features of a femme as they made their way over to the restrained Dinobot. "You're going to have quite the case on your hands, Primal. Not just for him, but your whole crew." Then they pushed the Predacon forward, earning a breathy hiss of protest from Dinobot. "For now, the rest of you are free to leave."

As they spoke, Dredge gestured toward the empty hall with their datapad, but no one made to leave. Instead, Cheetor unstrapped from his chair and said, "We're not abandoning Dinobot. If he's stuck in a holding cell, we're going too." He then glanced around the deck, optics nervously searching for any support among his comrades. "Uh, right guys?"

Clicking his metal toes against the floor, Rattrap unbuckled as well and said, "Actually, I gotta better idea." Without elaborating, he pushed off his chair and approached Dredge with far too much confidence for Dinobot's liking only to stop in front of the raptor and actually wink. Dinobot pursed his mouth in response. Just what in the Pit was the rodent doing?

Thankfully Dredge seemed just as confused/unamused by the rodent's antics, staring down at him expectantly. Clearing his throat, Rattrap placed one hand on his hip hinge while the other gestured at the bound raptor. "Instead of wastin' valuable time and state resources haulin' this surly saurian downtown, how 'bout you release him into our custody while we get all this legal slag squared away?" Rattrap laughed and then playfully rapped his knuckles against Dinobot's chassis as he met Dredge's stern optics with a disarming smile. "C'mon, Cap'n. Let us take this bucket o' bolts off your hands."

Dredge scowled, blue optics narrowing as they looked down at Rattrap. "The Council would have to approve any petitions for house-arrest, but I will note your request and send it to them. For now, he goes to the holding cells." They pushed Dinobot again and the raptor twitched, gnashing his teeth in disapproval before slowly trudging forward toward the hallway.

"Then you're gonna have to arrest us too!" Cheetor said, jumping up and running over to the door with his arms outstretched, blocking their path to the exit ramp. Rattrap groaned, dragging a hand down his face while Optimus stepped forward as if to try and stop Cheetor, but it was a half-hearted attempt at best.

The security mech rolled their optics and said, "If you want to help the Predacon so badly, then put together a fragging good case for him." Without any warning, Dredge reached over, easily shoving Cheetor aside with one broad palm. "Now stand down."

Cheetor yelped as he was pushed back, almost stumbling over his chair before catching himself at the last minute with those catlike reflexes of his. "Move," Dredge ordered and Dinobot growled, talons flexing under the cuffs as he was forcibly marched through the hall with Dredge at his back. Behind them, the raptor heard Cheetor huff and call out "He's a Maximal!" just before he was pushed through the airlock, steel doors quickly sliding closed with a metallic snap.

He had fully anticipated all the open mockery from Maximal security and the casual humiliation that followed. As soon as he was separated from the rest of his crew, Dinobot found himself stripped practically to his circuits by giggling recruits, all weapons and armor removed and replaced with a flimsy aluminum chassis marked with nothing but his cell number. Then he was taken to a small room with an even smaller berth and given a serving of Energon which he eagerly gulped down, running his tongue over the rim of the cup when he finished. The guards took the cup and left after that, not giving him any indication of when he might be refueled next or what else to expect from his imprisonment. A set of overhead lights flickered on as soon as the door closed behind them, making him wince a bit as his optics adjusted to the harsh glare that illuminated every corner of his empty cell.

Clean and spartan, but far too small to truly be comfortable for a mech his size no matter how much he contorted his frame. So instead of laying down, he sat cross-legged on the floor, setting his bound hands in his lap as he closed his eyes. Without his sword, Dinobot felt naked and this prisoner chassis was far too delicate and flimsy to even come close to replacing the comforting weight of his armor. Like this, he was exposed and vulnerable, an easy target for anyone who wished to victimize him or worse.

And yet...he had submitted to it all voluntarily. What other options did he even have?

Gritting his teeth, Dinobot pressed his palms together and laced his fingers in a firm weave. None of this would have happened if the stupid Maximals hadn't interfered with his mission and saved him, denying Dinobot his glorious death on the field of battle. At least there was honor in that rather than just wasting away on a desolate rock or sitting in a cell, waiting for the Maximal Elders to sentence him.

But...

The way they all looked at him when he woke in the CR chamber, critically damaged and spark barely flickering in his chest...

Cheetor had tried to tackle him into a hug, only to be held back by Rhinox who insisted Dinobot still was far too injured for any rough play. Meanwhile Optimus just breathed a sigh of relief and gently palmed the warrior's shoulder, helping Dinobot up to stand as well as take those first few cautious steps. After all, if Dinobot stumbled, only Optimus or Rhinox would have any hope of catching him before he hit the floor.

Then there was Rattrap. At first, Dinobot wasn't sure what to make of the shorter mech's pensive stare, but when the rodent reached out and touched the freshly welded section of his chest with one hand, he knew.

"Don't you ever go scarin' us like that again, chopperface or I'll skin your scaly aft myself."

In that moment, Dinobot felt like he was being anchored down by these bots, forced to contend with their personal attachments to him and his own to them in turn. He had been pulled back from the precipice of his destiny and now...he didn't know what was left for him in this life.

No, this half-life.

Dinobot scowled and raised both arms up, separating his fingers to stroke down the center of his chest. The seam in his armor had been welded, but according to Rhinox his inner-most circuitry had been permanently damaged. His spark was too fragile for him to ever truly return to fighting form and as a result, several features including his lasers had to be disabled and removed. He had forever lost the chance to ascend off the field of combat.

Worse still, he sometimes found himself dreaming of that fateful night and occasionally even saw it while wide awake. It was in the specific smells that reminded him of his former Predacon allies, innocuous noises that too closely resembled their ever-irritating verbal ticks.

It was in the way Optimus Primal (and Rattrap) had started to treat him like glass. Like he needed to be saved from himself.

Dinobot growled, lowering his hands back down to the cradle of his lap. Just because he couldn't fight like he used to didn't mean he was some helpless sparkling. Even in this diminished state, Dinobot could probably take all of the Maximals (minus Optimus) at once and still come out the victor.

Standing back up again, Dinobot began to pace if only to give him something else to do, another task to distract his mind from these bitter thoughts needlessly clogging up his processor. It truly had been far too long since he'd been left alone in total silence and it was clear that without having any other sensory input to focus on, he would only sink into further wretched melancholy.

Anger was strength, anger was passion.

Apathy was depression, apathy was weakness.

And Dinobot was not weak. Despite what Optimus and that pathetic rodent thought, he was still a soldier.

He just needed to find a new war to fight, a new cause to die for.

Many megacycles passed before Dinobot's incessant circular pacing was interrupted by a sharp knock at the door. He startled, bound arms raising up instinctively as the intercom buzzed to life. "Prisoner Unit 59221, you're being released. Standby for collection."

Dinobot's optics narrowed as he backed away from the speaker embedded into the wall. Released?

Before he could prompt an actual question though, the door unlocked and slid open, revealing Dredge who still somehow managed to look annoyed despite the metal-plate covering most of their face. "It seems Optimus Primal has some friends in high places," the officer muttered, stalking forward to grab Dinobot by his cuffs, earning them a low snarl from the bound raptor. "You're being released on house arrest for the time being. The trial will be scheduled within the decacycle. Refusal to abide by house-arrest protocol and or missing your trial date will result in an immediate warrant for your capture." Their blue optics flickered up to meet his. "Understood?"

Sneering, Dinobot bared his teeth and muttered, "Do you plan to actually outline these protocols or am I to surmise them for myself?" After all, he had been cooped up in this blasted cell for almost an entire solar-cycle without any additional context. It wouldn't surprise him if these Maximal officers were purposefully choosing to keep him in the dark if only to watch him stumble.

"Basically, you're stuck with me, dinobutt." Dinobot lifted his head at the familiar voice, glancing over Dredge's shoulder to see a very smug looking Rattrap standing just outside of the cell. Their eyes met briefly before the rodent's optics scanned up and down his figure, curiously taking in how much smaller Dinobot looked sans the usual armor plating. "Woulda been Optimus out here playin' baby-sitter but he's gonna be buried up to his servos in paperwork for a good long while."

"You will also be restricted to your bestial form," Dredge added, removing the cufflinks and separating them before slapping them right back onto his wrists like a set of thick metal bracelets. Immediately Dinobot seized as his transformation mechanism was triggered entirely against his will and he folded up into his raptor form with a displeased hiss. "All weapons and armor are to remain here until you're cleared by the Council."

Dinobot glared hard at the captain, but didn't speak, knowing that his silence for the time being would only hasten their exit from this wretched prison. On the other hand, Rattrap couldn't resist opening that filth-laden mouth of his. "By the way, since he's technically a ward of the state now, can we get some prescriptions goin'? I can't imagine you didn't run a diagnostics check and see that he's got a weak spark."

Unconsciously Dinobot curled his talons into tightly balled fists, averting his eyes as the two mechs so casually spoke about his deficiencies in front of him.

Dredge exhaled and reluctantly nodded. "As his assigned guardian, you'll get a stipend for it. Now I'll have to escort you both back to your residence and confirm that the code lock is functional." They paused and furrowed their brow as they glanced between the two of them. "Any further questions?"

Rattrap shrugged and crossed both arms over his chest. "Eh, I'll scan the rest of the packet later. You ready ta hit the road, chopperface?" He briefly lifted an arm to jerk one thumb back behind him and Dinobot pursed his lips, somewhat tempted to spite the other mech if only for his personal satisfaction.

Instead, he just slowly trudged out of the cell to follow Rattrap with Dredge trailing closely behind them. Unfortunately, the air didn't stay dead for long. "Y'know, I can't tell ya what kinda hoops they had the boss monkey jumpin' through to get your aft outta here. And Cheetor was ready ta go and get himself arrested as if that was gonna be any help." The rodent shook his head as he added, "Had to lay it all out for him like: kid, we love the enthusiasm, but we're back on Cybertron now. Bureaucrats don't give a frag about justice, it's about who ya know and what sorta valuables they're willin' ta pony up."

As he spoke, he looked up at Dinobot's scowling visage and snorted. "Would ya unclench your servos, chopperface? I know you're allergic to smilin', but you could stand ta look at least a lil' happy about the fact that we're springin' you. Wasn't I just tellin' ya how many strings Optimus had to pull ta get you out this quick?"

"I'm sure it was a great deal," Dinobot replied in a flat tone, blatantly refusing to meet the other mech's stare. Rattrap's smile fell, but Dinobot ignored it, more than grateful for the silence as they reached the exit. Of course, they were forced to file even more of the aforementioned paperwork upon reaching the front desk, but after what felt like an entire eon, they were finally given clearance to leave.

Once outside, Dredge folded up into an armored transport and the two of them sat down inside the security bot's cab, barely speaking or even making eye-contact until they stopped in front of what looked like a pretty run down neighborhood west of the Great Dome. Rattrap hummed and then gestured out the window toward a group of young sparks playing in the trash-ladden streets. "Well, here we are, home-sweet-home." He laughed (though the sound lacked any trace of real humor) and then nudged the raptor's arm before getting out. Dinobot followed him, lifting his muzzle to sniff at the stale smoggy air while Dredge reconfigured back into mech form next to them.

The building block itself wasn't much better than the neighborhood outside with the lobby being completely dilapidated and unattended while the elevator creaked ominously under their combined weight as soon as they stepped inside. Rattrap tugged out a slightly rusted ring of scanner chips and hit the button for the 10th floor. "Let's see if these still work. Haven't exactly been payin' my rent for the last coupla stellar-cycles." He winced as the carriage ascended shakily, but the lift did manage to reach the requested floor without incident, the doors opening to reveal a dank hallway smattered with identical doors. "Alright, Cap'n, let's get this ova with. The sooner we wrap up all these loose ends, the sooner you can kindly get the frag outta my house," Rattrap muttered, shaking the set of keys in his palm as he walked across the dusty hallway to the door labeled 105. Dredge and Dinobot followed, watching him scan the chip and unlock the door. "Well what do'ya know? I ain't been evicted yet."

Rattrap stepped to the side while Dredge moved past him to enter the apartment with their scanner. "I'm making a 3D map of the space which will be uploaded to your cuffs," they explained to Dinobot as they worked. "You leave this apartment and we'll know within the cycle." Their eyes hardened and Dinobot bared his teeth right back in challenge. He already understood the ramifications of his confinement and did not need to be lectured to by a Maximal cop.

Once the scan was completed, Dredge added it to the memory bank and the cuffs on Dinobot's wrists glowed bright red before an AI voice signaled, "Map upload completed. Locking mechanism engaged."

Giving themselves a satisfied nod, Dredge grabbed Dinobot by the arm and forcibly dragged him into the apartment. The raptor snarled, flailing against the unexpected man-handling before suddenly his wrist was tugged a few inches past the door frame. Immediately the cuffs began to vibrate. "Prisoner unit 59221 is escaping their designated premises." Dredge smirked at the AI alarm and tapped the cuffs with one finger. "Good, everything looks to be in order." They finally released Dinobot's arm and the raptor stepped back, not quite standing behind Rattrap, but keeping far away from the captain's reach. "Remember, this is a special accommodation. It can and will be revoked if either of you fail to comply with protocol." As they spoke, Dredge pulled out their datapad and began flicking through the files on the glowing screen. "A medical and Energon stipend has been linked to your shanix account. His trial date will be forwarded through the provided contact number."

"Yeah yeah, we got it all, officer," Rattrap muttered, giving them a mocking salute. "Ya done here?"

Dredge sighed and then nodded, only to visibly flinch as the rat immediately punched the door lock, letting the slightly rusted shielding slid into place with a series of metallic clicks. "Whew," Rattrap said, turning to Dinobot before his optics swept around the living room. "Oh uh...this place might be a little messier than I remembered..."

Dinobot blinked and then finally turned, scanning over the cramped apartment with a disgusted snarl. Absent of its sole occupant for several stellar cycles, many layers of dust and grime had accumulated on just about every surface, including the sparse windows facing the gleaming Dome in the distance. The entire room had a musty sort of scent to it, but it was hard to tell if that was just from all the dust or if that smell was there to begin with (this was Rattrap they were dealing with). There were of course piles of garbage and spare parts strewn around the main living space which seemed to have been more or less turned into a make-shift workshop and when Dinobot peered into the bedroom, he was hardly surprised to find a berth that was far too small for even his beast form as the primary fixture. "I see your habits have not changed much since you were last home, vermin," Dinobot muttered, walking over to the windows and ripping the hinges open if only to air out the oppressively squalid unit.

"Hey, this is pretty bad even for me, chopperface," Rattrap said as he opened up a supply cupboard in the wall and began dumping some cleaning rags onto the dusty floor. "Probably gonna have to make a quick run first though. I've got no degreaser or any of the good cleaners and we're gonna need ta pick you up some meds-"

"I do not require medicine!" Dinobot snapped, whirling back around to tower over Rattrap and openly bare his fangs. "Need I remind you that I am not some pathetic weakling who must be monitored every waking cycle?"

Immediately Rattrap held up both hands, waving the cleaning cloths out in front of him like a set of filthy flags. "Whoa, whoa...cool your jets, lizard lips. There ain't no one on all of Cybertron who thinks that. But-"

"But nothing," Dinobot shoved Rattrap hard in the chest, taking great pleasure in the way the smaller mech crashed into the wall and sank to the metal tile with a heavy thunk. "I wouldn't even be in this situation if not for you!"

None of these fools were capable of truly comprehending what they had done to him. Worse still, they didn't even seem to care.

Part of him had hoped that Rattrap of all bots would at least maintain the status quo. After all, even at their most amicable, the rodent never missed an opportunity to "bust his chops" and trade insults as equals. However, as more and more time passed, that veneer had softened, revealing a clear line of sympathetic condescension lurking underneath the smaller mech's words.

Hissing through buck teeth, the rat slowly climbed back onto his feet, leaving the rags where they had fallen on the floor. "Now what in the Pit was that for!?" He shoved one silver finger under Dino's snout and added, "We're out here bustin' our afts for you and you're actin' like you're too good for it! Would ya rather be locked up in a cell for who knows how long?" Dinobot just growled in reply and Rattrap rolled his optics. "For the love of Unicron, can you just cut the file spam and tell me what's got you so fraggin' ornery?"

For a moment, Dinobot was silent, but then he finally shook his head and wandered back over to the window if only to get some relatively fresh air venting through his system. "This entire situation...could have been prevented if you all had just let me finish what I started," he said, his tone cold and almost eerily restrained as he stared out at the silhouette of the Great Dome and its accompanying Spires in the distance.

"Finish what you started?" Rattrap snorted and then laughed, both hands falling to his hips. "Oh, you mean lettin' you fraggin' offline yourself? Yeah, you knew that wasn't gonna happen, chopperface. Between me, the kid, and big bot, we were-"

"I wish you had."

Rattrap's jaw clicked shut behind him and Dinobot closed his eyes, curling his claws into the metal window sill like an anchor. "I live a half-life now, rodent. Back on Earth, I was at the height of my fighting force, a towering pillar of power and strength." His vocalizer hitched and Dinobot felt a twinge of pain and resentment flicker through his spark. "You...you stole that from me." He didn't bother trying to hide the bitterness that laced his voice as he spoke nor the trembles that unconsciously wracked his body. "Even if I rejoin the battle field now, my triumphs will be lesser, forever tainted by this disability you all have foisted upon me."

He didn't even know which was the lesser of the two evils: the actual limitations of his physical form...or their pity.

"Foisted? Oh for bootin' up cold." Dinobot startled as he felt Rattrap approach, the other man's exhaust vents blowing spark-warm air against the scales of his back. "You're delusional is what you are, chopperface. You're not livin' a fraggin' half-life now just because you can't go full berserker anymore." Rattrap sighed and then placed a hand next to Dinobot's on the window sill. "There's more ta life than just waitin' around for the opportunity to die."

Huffing, Dinobot shot the other mech a sidelong glare, the rat's reflection painted across the cool gray of his slit eye. "There's always a cause worth dying for."

"And what about one ta live for?" Rattrap snapped right back, grabbing the raptor by the shoulders and shaking him hard enough to rattle his processor. "Do you really think you got nothing left now that the war is over? Is victory an' comin' home not good enough for ya?" Dinobot made to push him off, but the rat only tightened his grip, digging his fingers in as deep as the servos would allow. "No, I'm serious. You're not gettin' outta this one." Two red optics flickered over Dinobot's face, clearly searching for something in his reaction. However Dinobot refused to yield and eventually Rattrap closed his mouth, letting loose a long tired exhale through the ports of his nose. "Just...why?"

Why? The answer should be so painfully obvious, you overgrown-

Dinobot made to speak, but somehow it was like all the righteous anger that had fueled his initial outburst had already burned clean through, leaving him with a guilty spark and a locked vocalizer. Something about the rodent's voice, the slight wavering in his plea shut down Dinobot's most logical of counterarguments. But even then, it wasn't like he needed to explain himself to anyone, especially Rattrap of all bots. Out of the Axalon's original crew, only Optimus could possibly understand his motivations though even then, he knew the Maximal would still find a way to dissent (as he always did).

After a cycle or two of tense silence, Rattrap finally hung his head and pressed his palms flat against Dinobot's chest, splaying his fingers over the smooth brown scales. "Y'know...when we thought you were a goner, I-we," he paused, taking another short breath. "-The thought of losin' ya was enough to tear a fraggin' hole right through my spark."

The raptor flinched, but Rattrap didn't stop, his voice regaining some semblance of strength and resolve as he continued. "So excuse me if I don't wanna let you walk your stupid aft up ta the gates of Silicon Valhalla just yet, pal. The least you could do is gimme that much after all the crap you put me through." Then before Dinobot could even process a retort, he was being pushed away from the mech and back against the wall. Rattrap grunted and hunched his shoulders, turning to march toward the door with his chip-ring in hand. "I'm gonna go on a supply run. If ya need anythin' specific, you got my communication frequency." Dinobot frowned as he watched him leave, his optics dropping to the floor only once the door slid closed and locked, leaving him alone in the small apartment.

Perhaps he had been a touch ungrateful in the wake of his own disgrace. It wasn't like the Maximals were doing all of this to spite him...but he still couldn't help resenting their patronizing level of care.

He wasn't a sparkling.

He wasn't an invalid.

He was a warrior. Even broken and non-functional as he was in this state, there was no converting his internal code.

Dinobot could rewrite his allegiances all he wanted and alter his insignia from Predacon to Maximal and back again, but he couldn't change what he truly was deep down.

Hopefully one day, the others would see that. Whether or not they would accept it was another story.

Eventually Dinobot collected himself enough to make his way over to the bedroom, opening the window in there as well for maximum air-flow. Once the glass was retracted, he couldn't help leaning over to peer down at the streets below, his optics zooming in to see Rattrap's silhouette walking away in the opposite direction from the block, easily side-stepping large puddles of oil and a couple of low-life mechs playing dice on the sidewalk.

Tapping his claws against the sill, Dinobot turned and glanced around the room, finding it was just as messy as the main living quarters, though much more organized (relative to Rattrap anyway). The berth was still too small and he didn't even bother testing if it could take his weight before instead beginning to pace. At least this time he had sounds and smells coming in from the outside to keep his mind from falling into its darkest recesses, though he longed for a much more productive task. Unfortunately, without the proper cleaning supplies, he knew he wouldn't make any if much of a dent in the heaps of assorted garbage and dingy surfaces littering the apartment.

However, as he walked, one of his long toe-claws snagged on a loose section of the muffler carpet and he furrowed his brow. Dinobot lifted his foot carefully, only for the fabric to follow, almost ripping away from the metal tile entirely. He shook his foot in an attempt to dislodge the claw before he completely tore the damn thing, but in his flailing he lost his balance and fell back into the open closet with a crash. Immediately several bundles of cloth and spare parts toppled off the overhead shelving, landing on his lap and head respectively. Dinobot winced and groaned, touching over his throbbing brow ridge before reaching down to lift the fabric that had fallen into his lap. He made to throw it aside, but the bright primary colors caught his eye and he couldn't help raising it up to the light.

It looked hand-woven...clearly human in origin.

But then that would make sense. Rattrap was descended from Autobots who had been to Earth and served in the Great War there. This was probably a souvenir or even a token that had been passed down, only to end up stuffed away in a closet alongside whatever other useless scrap the rat felt like hording. Dinobot couldn't help but snort at his own musings. The smaller mech had never been one to take care of his things (though he also refused to throw any of it away lest he find some obscure use for it later on down the line). Meanwhile Dinobot clung to very few personal assets and did everything he could to keep them in top fighting form. Of course, his sword was by far his most prized possession and now that it was locked up by the Maximal police, he had nothing left to his name but the frame on his circuits.

Stretching the blanket to its full length, Dinobot couldn't help but test the weave with a few short tugs before finally looking over the actual pattern...which was composed of dinosaurs.

They were crude, scientifically inaccurate little silhouettes embroidered with bright saturated colors, but were also detailed in a way that spoke to the maker's skill and genuine care. For being as old as it probably was, the fabric was also in surprisingly good condition (a rarity among Rattrap's possessions).

Bringing it to his snout, Dinobot sniffed, letting his olfactory sensors take in what little data that could possibly be trapped in the cloth. Dyed wool, some sort of chemical detergent, and strangely enough, the rat himself. Dinobot blinked and curiously glanced back to the empty berth attached to the opposite wall. None among their kind needed anything like this fragile human garb for warmth and while it could be considered aesthetically intriguing, it offered very little practical use. Unlike tarps, a blanket couldn't block out wind or rain and it evidently collected all sorts of scents (no matter how unpleasant).

No, it was certainly not an ideal material...and yet Dinobot continued to play with it, running his hands over the yarn fringe lining the edges in a meditative sweep for a few cycles before he finally went to examine some of the other items that had fallen loose. A small space heater, some replacement parts (it seemed the rodent went through quite a few wrist servos and finger joints), and a toolkit that appeared to have seen more than its fair share of owners if the wear on the box was any indication. Dinobot furrowed his brow as he stared down at this odd collection of things, unable to stop looking and touching as if these simple objects held some sort of hidden meaning or wisdom. A foolish notion of course as this junk likely held no more secrets than whatever else was randomly scattered about the block...

And yet they weren't scattered, they were here in Rattrap's room (one he'd kept long before he signed up to board the Axalon), tucked inside a closet as if to dissuade the prying eyes of any potential guests (invited or otherwise).

One mech's junk is another mech's treasure.

As he mused over these strange little objects he had found, a loud alarm began to blare and Dinobot immediately tensed, stumbling to his feet as he instinctively tried to transform (only to be sharply zapped by the cuffs for his efforts).

Wincing, he straightened, claws unconsciously flexing as he followed the sound to the window where two mechs were running away from a crashed hover-craft and a broken gas line on the street below. The craft's emergency alarms continued to sound from the smoking vehicle and several more windows opened, the residents of the block peering out curiously before quickly returning to their homes once the source of the noise was confirmed. Dinobot wrinkled his snout and then slammed the window shut, though it did little to stifle the noise.

Looking around the room, his eyes swept between the berth and the closet, realizing he more or less had two options at hand. The closet wasn't large, but he could fit inside...and it was better than sleeping at the foot of Rattrap's berth like a pet. Reluctantly, he made his way to the closet, kicking the toolbox to the side as he slid the door closed to give himself yet another barrier against the infernal mechanical tattoo still blaring outside. Flicking on the overhead lamp, Dinobot looked down and sighed, leaning over to pick up the discarded blanket off the floor.

It wasn't a tarp or proper shielding, but it was at least something. So he laid the blanket down and used the other items stacked inside the closet to create a sort of rim around the center of the basin. The whole thing wasn't particularly sturdy, but as long as it gave him a relatively clean, comfortable, and quiet place to recharge before the rat came home, that was all that mattered. He could go about requesting better materials later.

Frowning, Dinobot laid down in the center of the blanket, curling his tail and neck around his body as the muffled alarm continued to play (now accompanied by the distant shrieking of police sirens). Against the noisy backdrop, he closed his eyes took a deep inhale, settling down into the nest he had made.

Immediately a familiar stench flooded his system and as soon as it hit the olfactory sensors, his servos loosened in their joints, unclenching from tightly locked positions. Dinobot let out a low rumble as his spark briefly bloomed in his chest, creating a pulsing electrical ache that was hard to ignore, but he did his best to push it from his mind anyway. Instead he just focused on breathing, letting the strangely comforting scent that vented through his system lull him closer and closer to recharge.

Finally after a few cycles, he managed to drift into unconsciousness, spark fluttering under his scales with every inhale.

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