They met in the rooms of the forgotten outpost, deep in the natural space far from the last light speaking far from the screen carried by the DJD’s name, you arrive first, as always waiting in the silence waiting for him, Tarn doesn’t announce himself. He never does one moment alone in the next and next the hum of the phase sixers step, brings the gravity of his presence to bear. The mask claims under starlight, impassive but when you’re alone like this, you’ve learned to see it through.

You were supposed to be enemies, autobot, Decepticon, loyalty, executioner, spy… but those were all just names labels that crumbled the moment you sparks resonated in that one impossible instant across the battlefield, he had a escape that day. No one else know tonight is the fourth meeting, Tarn says a little he rarely takes off his mask, but in hidden hours, he rolls his voice now the booming sermons of con superiority but something quieter or something fragile you think it might be the remnants of who he was before the madness.

“I caught your scent two systems out” he says optics flickering “you didn’t mask your signal”

“I wanted you to find me” you admit without flinching until a long silence then “you’re bold, for an autobot” he stepped closer, brushing his hand with yours “I’m yours, for better or worse”

he stiffens even now even hear his battle program fight against instinct, but when he takes your hand, cause folding around it was aching care you know you’ve reached the part of them that still remembers how to feel trust your home to his feeling the faint tremor of his plane this shouldn’t exist I can’t, but it does and neither of you know how long it can last before the truth that means everything we both tried to hide