The same chill of cold that shocked a mech to his core and slivered into his spark had been just the same the day Deathsaurus had found you. The day he had found that Autobot youngling, clinging to life and terrified by both him and the blistering cold that even affected Cybertronians.

Deathsaurus had been raising you among the other Decepticons for as long as you could remember. And that was long enough to actually believe he was your father. He treated you like a father would his child, to be fair.

As Deathsaurus helped you with your combat training, he couldn’t help but feel proud of what he managed to teach you throughout your life. You were like the kid he never had, or, never wanted.