"Sideswipe!"

His voice didn't come out as strong as he would have liked; the dust and ash that fell like snow around him had found its way into his vents and vocaliser, straining him. His arm hung useless on his side, yet he still held on to his gun. He had no choice. The fingers had locked in the gripping position and he couldn't uncurl them even if he tried. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he had also registered that his right leg was in no better condition; the damaged knee joint had barely enough strength not to snap under his weight, supported by a mere bolt and a couple of cables. Under other circumstances, he would have stayed down and waited for Ratchet to come and do the primary repairs. But not this time. Now, other matters had priority.

"Sideswipe!"

Autobots went this way and that, hardly paying attention to him, shouting and calling to one another in an agitated manner. Faces that he barely recognized as they were covered in soot and dirt, just like he was. Voices that were as strained as his. Yet he walked on, still searching, passing by them without paying heed to the uneven terrain underneath him, making him stumble more than just a few times; or even the beams and walls that threatened to come crashing down on him, twisted and melted beyond repair.

"Sideswipe!"

The voice came out weaker, almost sobbing. Optics looked every which way, trying to catch even a glimpse of his brother. Still hoping. Still begging even he wasn't who anymore. Because Primus sure didn't do his job right today…

"Sides-"

And there he was at last, sitting on a small rock. His hands held his head, and his shoulders were slumped forward as if a great weight had settled on them. There was no more red visible on the plating, replaced by the colours of war and destruction. Even the brightness of life had fled the blue optics as they stared at nothing. They only moved upwards when Sunstreaker walked up to him, practically towering over his brother as he stood in front of him… only to lower again in the next moment.

The formerly yellow hand – how was it possible that he didn't rant about the mess he was in? – rested on Sideswipe's head, caressing it gently. It made Sideswipe look up again, almost surprised.

"You're real?" The voice was quiet, weak… almost too afraid to hope.

Sunstreaker nodded, forcing his lip components to a ghost of a smile. "Found you."

The smile was reflected almost identically, only to disappear in a flash, sadness taking its place.

"I heard some of the other Autobots talking. They say Ironhide and the others… didn't make it. Is it true?"

"I don't know," Sunstreaker replied. "I heard Springer say that a rescue party has been sent off. They need to find Bluestreak and Huffer as well."

Sideswipe nodded his understanding, his gaze lowering once more. "Wheeljack and Windcharger didn't make it."

Sunstreaker frowned, just a bit. "Are you sure?" The battle had been so chaotic; no one could possibly know the casualties as of yet…

"They died in front of me."

Sunstreaker's spark sank at that. "Primus…"

Yet Sideswipe was far from done.

"It was Wheeljack first. Somebody shot him and then he was down. Windcharger jumped out of his cover, trying to use his electro-magnetic pull to drag Wheeljack to safety… and then he was down too. I fired at the Decepticons, keeping them at a distance, and I called at them to crawl back. They didn't answer. They didn't move…" Optics started swimming in clear liquid, threatening to spill down his face. "I couldn't even get them out of there; I had to go… They were too many of them…"

Sunstreaker knelt down and wrapped his good arm around his brother the best he could, offering his comfort. Yet Sideswipe was beyond consolation. The tears simply kept flowing, plinking on the yellow plating and mixing with the dirt and soot that covered them both.

"It's my fault. I couldn't save them. I tried, but I couldn't," he whispered amid his sobs. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"

The yellow mech sighed softly… then caught sight of a group of mechs in the distance, carrying five caskets. It didn't take a great mind to guess what, or rather, who, was in them. Not when he could see a shell-shocked Bluestreak walking next to one of them, his hand touching it delicately as if not ready to let go.

In that moment, Sunstreaker could say one thing only.

"We're all to blame."

And the dust and ash continued to fall like snow around them all.

The End