Aftermath had quickly gotten used to be lonely, because it was better than being surrounded by those he hated. It was hard to describe, the clawing nothingness in his - spark? Whatever - inside him.

Like there was a void where something else was supposed to be there.

When he woke up, he was confused for just a few seconds. Then, he was angry. He didn’t even know what he was angry at, but he didn’t have time to clearly see anyone around him before a truck was bounding into him. He scanned without thinking, and took on the alt mode. The rest went by in a blur, and before he could even figure out his name he was in a place where no one else really wanted him around.

Breakdown was nice enough, but insanely bossy. Still though, the Stunticon aka his pops, proved to be the only one he could be around without hating them instantly.

He couldn’t shake that feeling of deep, deep loneliness though. He just wanted someone like him, another chaos Terran. Someone who he could actually share in troublemaking, doing things together. Kind of like Jawbreaker described later, only more awesome because his wouldn’t be such a lame partner in crime like Jawbreaker was.

He couldn’t help but wish for someone else to be there with him, maybe even being able to knock him around to actually have some fun. It wasn’t fun when no one fought back.

-

He felt her form in a flash, as the lightning struck in the sky. He had been driving all night, following the faintest nudges from someone else as they moved around. A connection he couldn’t name, but couldn’t ignore either.

Aftermath was almost estatic to find her, but she wasn’t… right. The lonliness clawed further, as his sister was right there but their connection just didn’t feel right.

When the whole “imposter” thing was sorted out though, it all clicked into place. He felt her, emotionally, and she felt him. It was weird, but they both mostly ignored it until they were on the road back to Decepticon base.

“Ew, why are you so happy.” Spitfire had said on their ride back, twirling the Mech-Slayer in her hand like it was nothing.

“You’re one to talk, I can feel your satisfaction too.” He grumbled back at her, and she snickered wickedly.

“Yeah, because I did something awesome.”

“Yeah, and so did I - I finally found the right version of my sister. I swear, Twitch could barely keep herself together with us.” Aftermath said, almost without thinking, and laughed as he remembered how desperate Twitch had been to be convincing in retrospect. He probably only bought it because… well it was hard to know someone you never even met.

He felt Spitfire still in his truck bed for a moment. He wondered if she would pull away, but she just leaned against his cab.

“I guess that emotional bond Twitch was talking about wasn’t all scrap, though I never felt those goody goodies even when in her body.” Spitfire said, tapping a digit against his truck bed in thought. She felt curious, feeling the bridge between their red chaotic sparks.

“Yeah, I think we’re just too different. Or maybe just born in different places, I dunno.” He said casually. “I don’t really care that much.”

“Either way, it’s not nearly as annoying with you as it would’ve been with them.” She admitted.

There was a moment of awkward silence at the genuine comment. She then banged his cab with her fist, hard, making him jump on the road.

“Hey!”

“Just a reminder I’m not getting soft. I might be your sister, but I’m not some weakling like one-point-o. I’m better .”

“Sure, that’s why you need to proclaim it to everyone you meet.” He teased her.

“Do you want me to use this Mech-Slayer on you Affie?” She said, banging the hilt against his alt mode, the nickname she used sickly sweet in contrast to her usual tone.

“Uh, no, I’m good Spitfire.” He answered, and despite the lash of fear he never felt happier.

“Good, now speed up. I can’t wait to make a good entrance.” She said, smacking his cab again a bit lighter, and he could feel his sister’s confidence and strength.

And wow, wasn’t that a trip. He had a sister . Someone who had barely known him but had somehow earned his respect and trust faster than any other bot could’ve.

Aftermath wouldn’t let anyone take that away from them, the one thing he could truly call his own - since everything else, even his altmode, was just borrowed scrap.

Chaos Terrans against the world - he liked the ring of that.