E X I L E || Dreadwing X Reader || Discontinued

|| tragedy ||

c h a p t e r  s i x
4 | 1 7 | 2 0
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   Knock Out had confirmed it. Vega's t-cog was defective and there was nothing he could do about it. He looked at you apologetically, his white pupils tracking your slim seeker frame as you sunk to the floor.

   You sobbed. Your wings were as low as they could go. You leaned against the berth Vega sat on, holding in your sobs as you trembled.

   He looked so confused and helpless. The mechling didn't know what was wrong but he knew it was hurting you terribly, and he didn't know what to do.

   "I'm sorry," the medic made known to you. He gulped. "I will attempt to see if anything can be done that I'm unaware of, but I . . . cannot promise anything." The stylish, red Decepticon looked so broken. You wished you didn't have to heal your pain onto his, especially since Breakdown's death was still so fresh.

   "Creator?" Vega crawled over and sat next to where you leaned. "What's wrong? Whats that mean?"

   Right! Right, right, right. Your little one didn't know what t-coga did. He should already know that! You were a failure from your CNA to your parenting strategies.

   You sucked in your sobs, your oily tears. You vented deeply. You turned your helm to look into Vega's big optics with as calm and unheartbroken a face you could muster. Even your wings rose some to add. "T-cogs are what make you transform. It's what lets me become a jet. But you," you paused, gulping, "yours wasn't made right. You can't transform. You will never become a jet like me. I'm sorry."

   Vega's wings dropped in shock, as did his jaw, and his optic ridges onto his optics. "I wanna be able to fly like you and Dreadwin though! You said the skies were the freest place to be!" The sparkling recalled all the wondrous things you'd said about flying while hyping him up for practice. You told him all about the rewards of flying: the wind on your wings, the tricks you could learn, the places you could go in little time.

   "I know, my spark. I know."

   Internally, you berated yourself for all the things you'd told him. You brought his hopes up and now they were all being torn down.

   "What now? Are we gonna still have practice?" Vega was on the verge of freaking out.

   You shook your helm, venting deeply again. You needed to calm down. You stood up and before your son.

   "No. No more practice." You gently picked up the little mech and held him to your chassis. He was beginning to squirm in a fit. "I want your to know that I don't blame you. I'm not disappointed. I love you so, so much."

   "I wanna fly, I wanna fly!" He whined, lightly beating on your shoulder plating. You sighed. You started to make for the medical bay's exit.

   Vega was of the age where he ached to fly, defective cog or not. That's why you'd been teaching him how to transform and fly the other day. It's why you had wanted Dreadwing to help you mentor your son.

   Now, the boy would have to ignore his aches for the freedom of the sky. He would never be able to use his wings the way he was meant to.

   "Y/N," Knock Out called out. You spun around, having paused in your walk to the exit. "If I can't . . . I'll give you something for the flight hunger within the week." You nodded, and headed for and out the automatic sliding doors.

   Vega cried and hit your armor. You had to scold him to not hit, to not take anything out on you or others. He would get his quiet time, his chance to calm and collect himself, when you reached your chamber. You would need some yourself.