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Cheetor was on monitors, and it was too quiet. He could listen to music, but he’d played all the songs he had downloaded before leaving Cybertron about a million times, and all the songs he’d borrowed from Rhinox, and Optimus, and Rattrap. He was almost regretting never pestering Dinobot for music, even though it would have all been dumb old operas—he’d take anything at this point, and Blackarachnia and Silverbolt didn’t exactly have catalogs to share.
Damn, thinking about Dinobot had bummed him out. He felt a little down now.
Cheetor never thought he would think it, but it was weird not having Dinobot around. They’d been so busy with everything that had happened since—Blackarachnia joining, Depth Charge showing up, Cheetor’s beast mode taking over, Blackarachnia joining—that he’d almost forgotten that Dinobot wasn’t there. Not that he’d died, exactly, but that he was gone, and he wasn’t coming back. It was weird remembering that he hadn’t ever met Depth Charge. Cheetor bet he’d have a lot to say about the guy. Not to mention about Blackarachnia wanting to join; who knew what he would’ve said if he’d been around when she first showed up. The whole thing might’ve gone differently. Cheetor couldn’t imagine he would trust Blackarachnia really meant it, but the guy could be funny about that sort of thing: maybe he would’ve argued they should give her the same chance he got—that’s what they did in the end, anyway, so maybe it wouldn’t have gone that differently after all.
Man. Cheetor didn’t exactly miss his sparkling personality—that guy could snark, and boy was he good at making Cheetor feel like an idiot—but he was part of the team, and it felt as wrong not to have him there as it did to remember Airrazor and Tigatron weren’t just off in the wild, somewhere out of contact.
The creepy clone didn’t help. Easy to forget someone’s gone when they keep showing up to attack you. What Megatron’s deal with cloning Dinobot was, Cheetor didn’t want to know—though he supposed that if he had to command the Predacons, he’d want the guy who could actually fight to come back too.
Geez, if Dinobot was still alive to…hear Cheetor think that? Whatever. If he knew Cheetor’d just thought that he would have been so smug. Cheetor felt the sudden need to take it back even though he hadn’t even said it out loud. It wasn’t even like it was that true, the Predacons had plenty of guys Cheetor would be happy to never fight again. He’d pick a one-on-one with Dinobot over Rampage any day.
…Probably.
Cheetor sighed and spun around in his chair. As it passed into view of the open doorway, he noticed there were some scratches on the wall outside. He didn’t remember seeing them when he came in, but he guessed he must’ve been preoccupied. Still, though, weird that he’d never noticed them before now; they weren’t exactly hard to miss. They were more or less at eye height, and sure, they hadn’t punctured the metal of the wall or anything, they looked distinctly claw-made, and Cheetor hadn’t thought there were any animals on this planet that were strong enough to even scratch metal except for them. Maybe Silverbolt had stumbled recently and scratched it up trying to catch his balance?
Cheetor snickered. He would’ve liked to see that.
He gave his chair another spin and then reluctantly turned his attention back to the monitor.
—
When Optimus went to the bridge for his shift on the night watch, the first thing he noticed was that the CR chamber was on. He frowned. As far as he was aware, everyone else was in their rooms. He leaned over to look through the inside, but there was no one in there.
The obvious explanation was that one of the others had gotten injured in the last battle, but Optimus would’ve known if that happened—in the aftermath, if not the fight itself. It never hurt to be careful, so he checked the logs just to be sure, but the most recent session was still from when Rhinox snapped a wire in his shoulder during last week’s expedition to collect sediment samples.
Optimus sighed to himself. More likely, one of them—and by ‘one of them’, he meant ‘almost definitely Cheetor or Silverbolt, and leaning towards Cheetor’—injured themselves in some stupid way, and deleted the record of their session because they were embarrassed about it. It could’ve been right before he arrived, even. Cheetor had been half-asleep when they passed each other in the hall for the shift change. It was entirely possible he’d hurt himself while goofing off and then forgot to finish covering his tracks before he clocked out.
Optimus would have to have a talk with everyone later about not deleting important medical records just for the sake of their own pride, and also about turning the CR chamber off after using it. Later, though. It was late, and everyone else was off-shift for the night. No sense punishing everyone with a lecture on their break.
That could wait until the next debriefing. Was it so hard to just admit these things? Or to at least check that you’d turned it off, for god’s sake.
He shut the CR chamber down and settled in for a long, slow shift watching the monitor.
—
Rattrap was being haunted. That was the only explanation for how his friggin’ stuff kept getting moved, even though he knew he’d locked the door. His pile of wires had gotten all tangled, and the southeast corner of his diorama of the Predacons’ base had been crushed. Some of his trash had been disturbed, too—his rotten fruit was in a stack for a reason, dammit. It was either ghosts or one of the others, and while he wouldn’t put anything past Blackarachnia, he’d put in new security measures specifically to keep her out. He’d added weight sensors into the walls and the ceiling, and upped the sensitivity of his motion detectors while he was at it. Rattrap was a professional; no one was getting into his room undetected on his watch—except they were and they had and Rattrap was at the end of his goddamn rope. They kept getting set off by his things falling, and by never the perpetrator.
None of the others were dealing with it, of course. If anyone else had had their rooms messed with, they hadn’t noticed it to mention when Rattrap asked. Just Rattrap, the universe’s punching bag, the guy fate loved to see in the dirt. It figured. He was cursed, he really was.
He gnawed at the pit of a fruit mournfully. Oh, Rattrap, it’s probably just a wild animal that got on board, oh, Rattrap, didn’t you say a snake got in there just last week? Doubters, the lot of ‘em. Just because sometimes it was animals eating his junk didn’t mean it always was. Paranoia always paid off in the end, that was Rattrap’s motto.
—
Blackarachnia paused as she walked through a hallway.
She turned. There was nothing behind her. The hallway stretched out, long and yawning, and empty except for her.
“Hm,” she said.
—
Silverbolt was about to leave for his patrol when the CR chamber powered on and then immediately off again, emitting a sad, cut off noise as it did so.
Silverbolt stared at it. “Is that…supposed to happen?” He asked Rattrap.
Rattrap grimaced. “Grating, ain’t it? When Rhinox comes to switch shifts I’m gonna ask him about it.”
Grating was a bit of an exaggeration, maybe, but it was definitely startling. Silverbolt couldn’t say he minded that he’d be out for the next few hours, instead of here with the CR chamber doing whatever that was.
—
Waspinator was being haunted. Again. Probably no one would believe him if he said so, but he knew he was. Strange sounds caused by nothing, figures he only saw out of the corner of his eyes, computers turned on when they shouldn’t be with files that shouldn’t be opened—it was either Starscream back to make his life miserable again, a different ghost deciding to make his life miserable, or one of the spiders plotting something (that would probably make his life miserable). He didn’t like any of those options.
…He also really didn’t like the idea of having to tell Lord Megatron about the files. Maybe he’d just pretend he didn’t see anything and let Lord Megatron find out on his own. Waspinator could play dumb. It wouldn’t be fun when Lord Megatron did find out, but maybe he wouldn’t even notice. In any case, it would be worse to be the one to tell him. He didn’t care about whether or not it was your fault when you told him bad news. Or whether or not you had anything to do with it at all, or if you just walked by a room and noticed the computer was on. You could check the access logs to see Waspinator hadn’t done it, even! No, not worth the risk, telling him. Lord Megatron’s wrath was swift and undiscriminating, and he might just get mad that no one had noticed sooner and decide to take it out on Waspinator, because the universe hated Waspinator. Waspinator was probably cursed.
—
“‘Ey, Rhinox, finally. You got any clue what the deal is with the CR chamber? Thing’s acting funny,” Rattrap said, rapping his knuckles against the side of it. “Just wait a minute and it’ll—there we go, isn’t it weird?”
“Huh, that is strange,” Rhinox said, staring in consternation at the chamber and then walking over to pull up its data. “I just ran a full diagnostic scan a few days ago and it was working fine. I’ll start another one now, see what’s up.”
A low pulse emanated from the chamber. Cheetor, who had just walked in, jumped.
“Jeez, what was that?”
“CR chamber’s on the fritz,” Rattrap said. “Has been all shift. Driving me friggin’ crazy, lemme tell you.”
“See! I told you guys it wasn’t me,” Cheetor said, pointing at both of them in vindication.
“Yeah, and then you tried to pin it on Silverbolt instead,” Rattrap said.
“Well, something’s definitely screwy,” Rhinox said over Cheetor’s attempt at a retort. Hopefully it wasn’t anything too serious; there was never a good time to be down a CR chamber. “Rattrap, you really should’ve told me about this sooner. Oh, looks like Silverbolt’s back from patrol. Cheetor, could you let him in?”
“On it,” Cheetor said, giving a lazy salute.
Silverbolt flew in and transformed out of his beast mode as he landed. It looked smooth enough, but Rhinox heard what sounded like some resistance as his wings folded in.
“Welcome back, Silverbolt,” said Rhinox. “Your wing feeling alright? That transformation sounded a bit jammed. I can get you in the CR chamber once I run this diagnostic on it, see what’s making it fuss.”
“Just some grit caught in my seams, not to worry,” Silverbolt said, flexing his plates to get it out. Specks too small to see hit the metal flooring with tiny plinks. “The winds are dusty today. I’m afraid the diagnostic will have to wait, though. I spotted Predacons coming this way.”
“Damn,” said Cheetor, “and here I was hoping it’d be a quiet day. Don’t they have hobbies?”
Optimus entered.
“Silverbolt, I got your ping,” he said, on top of things as always. “You said you saw something on your patrol?”
“Predacons incoming,” Silverbolt said, nodding. “They should be visible on the scanners soon. Dinobot seems to be heading the charge.”
Optimus Primal leaned over to look at the monitor. It was true, Dinobot’s clone had a significant lead on Inferno and Waspinator. He was in beast mode and running full tilt, fast enough that they weren’t even getting caught in the dust he left in his wake.
Cheetor, Silverbolt, you’re with me,” Optimus said, pulling out his hoverboard. “Rattrap, you and Blackarachnia will bring up our rear. I’m pinging her now. Rhinox, you’re on ship defenses.”
“On it,” Cheetor said, lunging into his transformation and coming out of it running.
Rhinox braced himself for a messy situation. The Predacons didn’t normally attack the ship head-on like this; it put them at such a tactical disadvantage there wasn’t any reason to unless it was part of a larger plan. Rhinox pulled up the ship scanners and looked for Predacon signals. Was this the division to draw attention off an ambush? It was almost too obvious to be plausible. Megatron was smart enough to know they wouldn’t fall for something so basic. A double bluff, maybe?
Rhinox shook his head. He had a feeling it was going to be a long day.
—
Something was up.
Usually, Dinobot’s clone fought with pure ferocity, the original’s skill only there in muscle memory. This time—this time was different. He still had that aura of single-minded focus, but he wasn’t completely on offense like usual. He wasn’t even attacking that much at all, really. He kept going for body checks and taking out the legs over trying to get any fatal damage in. Cheetor had been tossed aside twice now, even though the clone could’ve just as easily gone in for a swipe to the eyes either time.
Blackarachnia couldn’t figure out his angle. Charging in blindly was more his style than whatever he was up to here.
A shot came from behind, and dodged it narrowly. Inferno and Waspinator had reached the battle—finally—and joined in on the attack.
It was enough of a distraction. Dinobot’s clone abandoned offense entirely and started running for the ship. Blackarachnia and Rattrap both prepared to block his path.
They lasted about five minutes before he got past them. Blackarachnia flipped into her spider form and crawled after him as fast as she could. She struck out at him with her legs, trying to skewer him through a vulnerable joint or seam, but he was just far enough ahead of her that she couldn’t aim properly without letting him get away.
“He’s on the ship! Rhinox, keep him busy! Rattrap, try to get behind him!”
He wouldn’t stop moving. It made Blackarachnia want to hit something. Preferably, him, if she could just get to him.
“How did he get in so fast?”
“How did he get in at all? The shields are still up!”
“He’s going for the CR chamber,” Rhinox said over comms. Once inside, she could see he had his chaingun trained on the clone. “I can’t get a shot in, it could destroy something in here.”
Blackarachnia climbed up the wall and onto the ceiling to get a better angle on the clone. She thought he hadn’t even noticed she was there—he was facing away from her, and hadn’t reacted at all when she got on the ship—but then right before she fired at him, he grabbed Rhinox and threw him at her.
It wasn’t a strong enough throw that Rhinox actually reached her, but she had to hastily pull back to avoid shooting him. She swore. Rattrap had joined them by that point and had him engaged for now, but they were still at a disadvantage; they couldn’t fight too rough without risking damaging the ship. She transformed back and dropped to the ground.
“A little backup would be nice,” she hissed into her comm as she tackled him. “Those bugs can’t be giving you enough trouble that all three of you need to be out there.”
“Hold on,” Optimus said, we’re on our way.”
“Never fear, help is here,” Silverbolt said, the cheesy little ass.
“C’mon, then, Fido, quit the heroics and get your rear in gear and help me,” Blackarachnia shouted to Silverbolt as she grappled the clone. “I’m not getting any younger, you know!”
The clone drew his leg up and kicked her in the knee. Her leg buckled, and he brought his foot up again, this time getting her squarely in the torso and knocking her away from him. Silverbolt swore and made a lunge for him, but he dodged and feinted left. When Silverbolt moved to block, he used his own momentum against him and grappled his sword out of his hand. The clone hit him on the head, hard, with the butt of the sword, and Silverbolt went down. Only for a moment, but it was enough. Blackarachnia had recovered her footing, but she was too far away. Hurling the sword in the direction on an oncoming Rattrap, the clone reached the CR chamber, and then—
He was inside, and the door was shut.
Silverbolt, right behind him, went to pry it open, but Blackarachnia stopped him.
“Easy on the hardware,” she said. “Not a good idea to rip the door off.”
“Rhinox, what’s he doing in there?” Optimus asked.
“Not sure,” Rhinox said, running to the console and typing rapidly. “He’s up to something, though. Its systems are engaged, but I didn’t see any injuries on him for it to fix. Might be some kind of sabotage, introducing a virus with himself as the carrier.”
“Shut it down, now,” Optimus ordered. “If that’s the case, we need him out of there.”
“Easier said than done, boss,” Blackarachnia said, peering at the console over Rhinox’s shoulder. “It just engaged critical life support. It needs an override or it won’t open up until it thinks it’s safe.”
Optimus swore. “Rhinox, you have authorization, right?”
“I’m working on it,” Rhinox said tersely.
“What is he doing in there,” Silverbolt wondered.
The CR chamber gave a hiss—
—
And Dinobot climbed out.
“Hello,” he said.
Optimus wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t fire on him right away. None of them did. The CR chamber had changed him. He looked almost like the original, his bleached frame replaced with that familiar orange and blue, but sleeker, more streamlined, and with a long, spined tail. More than that, though, there was just something different about him. Optimus couldn’t explain why, but Dinobot—the clone—the clone?—felt different.
Out of the corner of Optimus’ eye, he watched as Rattrap lowered his gun, and then let out a small, incredulous laugh.
“Dinobot!” Rattrap stared, a disbelieving grin on his face. “Is that you? You—we saw you die! Your spark left this friggin’ mortal coil!”
“No way,” murmured Cheetor.
Dinobot— Dinobot, somehow, if it was even possible—smirked back. “There are more things in heaven and earth, vermin, than are dreamt of by your tiny mind,” he said. He sounded exactly the same as Optimus remembered.
“I think all our minds are struggling with this one, Dinobot,” Optimus said, though he was smiling too.
“Yeah, I’m with Rattrap,” said Cheetor. “How in Alpha Trion’s name are you here?”
“Not to point out the obvious,” Blackarachnia drawled, “But since it doesn’t seem to have occurred to any of you, are you sure this is Dinobot? All he did was go into the chamber and come out again—that doesn’t scream ‘resurrection’ to me. Who’s to say this whole story isn’t a set-up?”
“She has a point,” Rhinox said.
“Nah, look at him,” said Rattrap, crossing his arms and squinting at Dinobot. “He’s all shiny and new, somethin’ happened in there. My gut’s telling me he’s the real deal.”
“I’m surprised, Rattrap, that’s almost optimistic of you,” Optimus said, but he couldn’t deny that it felt like the real Dinobot to him too.
“Better hope you’re right, rat, because I love saying I told you so,” Blackarachnia said.
Dinobot raised an eyeridge. “You seem to have an infestation,” he said to Optimus. “Did you all miss me that much that you stole the first ex-Predacon you found?”
Optimus didn’t know whether to sigh or laugh. That was another point in favor of him being real. He never was one to phrase things diplomatically when he could go for droll and baiting.
“We’ll share our stories if you share yours,” Rhinox said, cautiously genial. Optimus could relate. It felt foolhardy to let their guards down so easily, but it was hard not to.
“I hate to be the bringer of bad news,” Silverbolt broke in, “and I…apologize for not saying hello, I suppose, but the Predacons are regrouping—with Megatron at the forefront.”
Optimus supposed it would be surprising if he hadn’t come.
“Looks like that explanation will have to wait, then,” he said. “Let’s deal with our visitors first.”
-
Megatron was very angry when they reported what had happened, and even angrier when he met them on their way back to base—though he hadn’t told them to stay there, and Waspinator didn’t know what they would have been able to do, with the defenses still up (Inferno had found that out for them the idiotic way). When New Dinobot—and all the Maximals—finally left the ship, Megatron was furious. Waspinator didn’t know what New Dinobot’s death wish was, but he knew he didn’t want to be in his place right then, with Maximals behind him and Megatron in front of him.
He also didn’t know when New Dinobot had gotten that reframe. He hadn’t looked like that when he went in, had he? Waspinator was positive he hadn’t. What was he doing?
Megatron was worked up to a fine rage, weapon at the ready. When he spotted New Dinobot, he pointed furiously.
“Dinobot, you incompetent lump,” Megatron yelled. “What’s gotten into you? Are you glitched? Your orders were to patrol the perimeter, not run off to hunt Maximals!”
New Dinobot just sneered.
That made Megatron angrier, which Waspinator hadn’t known was possible. Waspinator was going to be keeping his head down after this for the next…forever. Forever was probably long enough.
“Clearly you need to be reminded who owns you,” Megatron growled. “Destroy those Maximals, and perhaps your punishment will be…lenient.”
That made New Dinobot grin. Toothily. Waspinator had a bad feeling about this.
“I’ll take my chances,” New Dinobot said, and lunged.
At Megatron.
Waspinator backed away quickly. He had a very bad feeling about this.
Megatron lurched back, but recovered quickly. He brought his arm up to block Dinobot’s swipe. He snarled.
“Are you glitched? You’re a Predacon! You follow me!”
“I made the mistake of following you twice,” Dinobot said. “I don’t intend to make that mistake again.”
Megatron’s eyes widened. “It’s you. How? I killed you myself!”
“You should have done a better job, then,” he said, and stabbed him through the chestplate.
Megatron howled.
“Lord Megatron!” Inferno rushed to his side and hosted him up. “Our lord is injured! Retreat!”
Waspinator didn’t have to be told twice. He ran over to gave Inferno cover as they fled. This was such a bad day.
They fired off a few parting shots as they left, and the Maximals returned the favor. Blackarachnia got off a hit to Waspinator’s wing, and it stung like anything. Silverbolt just grazed Megatron’s shoulder, and Megatron hissed and swore at them both for their incompetence, but after that they were out of range. Miraculously, the Maximals didn’t follow them. Small mercies, but Waspinator would take whatever he could get.
This whole planet was cursed.
-
Dinobot watched the Predacons flee with no small amount of satisfaction.
“Should we follow them?” Silverbolt asked.
“Let them go,” Optimus said. “We’ll have other opportunities to press our advantage. For now, let’s get back to the ship. We have a story to hear.”
With the urgency of battle over, Dinobot was struck again by how aware he was of his own physicality. It was a strange mix of familiar and new; not just adjusting to his new body, but to having a body again. His trek to the Axalon had felt almost like piloting a ship—now that he was looking back on the experience, he wondered if that was what it was like to be a headmaster. Now, he felt like he’d had the best reformatting of his life after a hundred years in statis. He’d never thought he’d relish the feeling of simply walking, but it was near intoxicating. He felt so alive.
When they were all back on the ship, Dinobot sat down and crossed his legs over one another. Rattrap wheezed dramatically as he took a seat, as well.
“I think you broke something,” he groaned. “Would it have killed you to go easy on us?”
“I did,” Dinobot said, which was mostly true. He’d been focused on reaching the CR chamber over minimizing the damage he dealt, he also hadn’t been focusing on maximizing it. “I simply underestimated you, I suppose.”
“Is it too late to return you? I think I preferred the clone.”
“I plan on sticking around for quite some time, I’m afraid,” Dinobot replied. He didn’t regret giving his life to right his wrongs, but being alive again was a blessed he wouldn’t be taking for granted.
“Lucky us,” Rattrap said. “So, how are you back, huh? We saw your spark evaporate and everything.”
A good question.
“I’ve long liked the theory that our consciousness resides in our sparks as much as our processors,” Dinobot began thoughtfully, ”Though I didn’t know if there was much truth to it. I’m pleased to say I now serve as evidence for that theory—I had died physically, I felt it happen, but even afterwards I had an awareness I can’t describe. I could feel my spark scattering into nothingness, but some strange electric current brought it back together. It was…I’ve never experienced anything quite like it.”
“The remains of the quantum pulse, do you think?” Optimus asked. “It’s had strange effects beyond turning us transmetal, like with the fuzors.”
“It stands to reason. That, and maybe something to do with the amount of raw energon on the planet as well,” Rhinox said. “I haven’t heard of anything quite like this happening before, but there aren’t many planets with this high a concentration of it out there, and there have been cases of energon radiation affecting injured sparks strangely. There’s a lot we don’t know about the spark’s relationship to energon.”
“Both are plausible enough explanations,” Dinobot said. “Regardless of how it happened, it did. It’s not an interesting story, though. Much of my time unbodied is…hazy. I recall seeing my clone’s form, and planning to take it for my own, and other such scraps.”
“How long were you like that?”
“I do recollect I spent some time on the Axalon,” Dinobot said. “I did not gain my full facilities for quite a few days. I was a being of confused instincts and impulses.”
“You were the one messing with my stuff! I knew it! I was being haunted! Geez, why’d you have to pick on me, huh? What’d I do to deserve it? Go give someone else grief for once. Lousy lizard.”
Dinobot smirked.
“You know, I thought I felt something weird and creepy pass by me in the hallway,” Blackarachnia said.
Rattrap gaped at her in outrage. “Wh—I asked you if that exact thing had happened to you and you said it hadn’t!”
“Hey, it hadn’t when you asked,” Blackarachnia said. She shrugged. “I was telling the truth, believe it or not. I just…chose not to tell you after it did. Didn’t want to boost your ego.”
“Tch. You see what I put up with? Huh? Oh, yeah, yak it up,” Rattrap said, when Dinobot laughed at him.
“Hey, what about the other Dinobot?” Cheetor piped up. “Did you eat him this time? Or like, his spark? I know you didn’t actually eat this one.”
A prescient question indeed.
“The spark inside the body…its rage was unfathomable. For a moment, I could feel my spark merging with it—let us all count our blessings that it didn’t. I shudder to think what would have happened.”
“So he’s gone, then,” Rhinox said.
Dinobot hummed. “Dead, perhaps, but not gone. Not exactly.”
“You just said you didn’t merge with ‘im,” Rattrap said. Dinobot heard an edge of wariness in his tone.
“I didn’t,” Dinobot replied. “His mind, his memories, they assimilated into me. How do I put it…? You could say he’s a part of me, in the same way that yesterday’s you is a ‘part’ of you. What happened to the spark itself, I cannot say.”
“Oh, assimilated, huge difference from merged,” Rattrap griped. “Beg pardon.”
“You’re pardoned,” Dinobot said, just for the simple pleasure of riling him up further.
“Hey, the CR chamber acting up was you too, wasn’t it,” Cheetor said. “I got blamed for that, you know. What did you do to it?”
“If I recall, I simply knew something was wrong and tried to use it out of instinct. I didn’t realize I wasn’t fully corporeal right away; my repeated attempts to use it as a spark without a body must have confused it greatly. When I used it in my clone’s body…your guess is as good as mine as to how it gave me a new frame.”
“The energy affecting your spark must have had transmetal properties,” Rhinox said. “Maybe it wasn’t powerful enough to change you, and the CR chamber provided that power.”
“Well, however it happened, we’re lucky it did. It’s good to have you back, friend,” Optimus said warmly. “We missed you.”
“Rattrap especially,” Cheetor chimed in. “You shoulda seen him after—”
“Do me a favor and put a sock in it, will you?” Rattrap crossed his arms. “Don’t listen to a word he says, Dinobreath. Me? Miss you? Ha.”
“He can pretend he didn’t care, but we all know he’s lying. He was a total mess without you to argue with,” Cheetor continued gleefully.
“Zip it, furball, I was weepin’ tears of joy over not having to deal with Dinobot’s scaly rear. I’ll never know peace again, not that he’s back.”
Dinobot smirked. “Far be it from me to allow you to suffer something so boring as peace,” he said. “I think you’d malfunction with nothing to complain about. Worry not, my petulant comrade, I look forward to making your life a perfect misery once more.”
“You already are,” Rattrap said, but he was smiling. “Sheesh. you think you’re finally free of a guy.”