The structure groaned low and deep, a half-built support tower rising out of scorched earth and welded steel. Sparks rained like fireflies as Scrapper leaned over the framework, optic fixed, servo steady.

“Hold,” he rumbled. And you froze inside the narrow maintenance shaft, boots braced against the alloy ribs. The space was barely wider than your shoulders. And you could hear his engine through the metal—slow, controlled.

You called back. “Stress fracture’s right where you said. You were right. Again.”

“I am always right.” there was that sass again.

---

Scrapper, boss of the constructicons is a pragmatic, overworked con. And often is surrounded by mechs who default to blunt force and efficiency. He was happy when he first was able to find a human who would eventually come to trust him and the constructicons. Most other decepticons thought that having a human pet was strange. But your assistance aided the decepticon army greatly, which megatron admitted once to you and scrapper.

---

You snorted softly and adjusted the brace, fingers working fast. The metal around you shuddered once, then settled, however it was still scary. Eventually the tower finally stopped complaining.

A massive shadow shifted overhead. Scrapper stepped back, optics narrowing as he ran a scan. His purple scanner lights flickered across the structure.

“Integrity stable,” he said at last. Then, more quietly, “You may exit. It is safe to move.”

You crawled backward and dropped lightly to the ground. Dusted your jeans off just as Scrapper lowered one enormous servo toward you to step up onto.