Locked away in her room and laying curled up on her berth, Blackguard sighs and shutters her optics closed, trying to stop the coolant flowing up to her optics from trickling out. Tomorrow would be the first anniversary of Optimus’ death, the closest concrete event she had to mark when she took in Rigel.
One year spent with the boy and she could, without a doubt, testify that she loved him as her own. CNA be damned, that was her boy, her son.
One year spent with the boy and three times she had unwittingly put him in danger. First, by invoking Arkaitimus’ jealously and wrath. Then, at Blackout’s aerie with Tarn on the prowl for “justice”. Now, with Ruka, who, with each passing day, was looking more and more like a Functionalist trying to push his twisted agenda with a Prime child at the helm of his schemes.
She was, by far, the worst parent to ever exist.
He was better off staying home. She tells herself as her tears push their way past her lids. You should have sent him back. He would have been safer there.
You just had to be selfish. You just had to keep him for yourself. Well look where that’s gotten him now.
She sobs, curling up more around herself to muffle the sound.
You stupid fragging selfish glitch. You shouldn’t even have him. You ruin everything.
She sobs again and again, then quickly removes her mask to cover mouth and hide the sound. The others don’t need to hear this.
A fragging kidnapper like you doesn’t deserve pity anyway.
