Another little ficlet prompty thing. A massive thank you to Darkness_Rising, for feeding into my Combaticon/Lambo twin addiction :3
Prompt: Swipe/Ons- When the war is over
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
It wasn't like their usual meetings, that much Sideswipe knew. As to what caused this unusual arrangement, well Sideswipe knew that too.
He almost died on the battle field. In front of Onslaught.
An unfortunate set of circumstances of him crashing Skywarp into the ground and him barrel rolling directly into Starscream's blaster fire instead of the safety he was hoping for, landed him under Ratchet's tender love-and-care with a ruptured fuel line.
Not any fuel line either. Naturally, the mouthy seeker had managed to split the main fuel line that fed not only his spark, but processor too. Starscream had cackled as Sideswipe began to bleed out in the dirt, trying to drag his damaged frame from the tri colored mech. Onslaught unable to do anything else besides watch on in a silent horror.
Not that Sideswipe could blame the commander; he was after all a Decepticon, and he an Autobot. It was only natural that Onslaught's comrades would try to kill him, would try to maim him. He was after all, one half of the lethal duo that was the twins. To kill him, would drag Sunny down as well.
Sideswipe didn't blame the Combaticon for not coming to his aid, despite what they had between them. He knew what he was getting into when he began to court the Decepticon, knew that if a gun was put to his helm, Onslaught would be helpless to stop it.
Honestly, Sideswipe was okay with this. He understood this, and knew that if the positions were reversed, the crimson Autobot knew he'd have done the same thing. He didn't blame Onslaught for doing nothing; he had his own team to look after, just as he had to look after Sunny.
That still didn't stop the other from feeling guilty.
Four weeks and three surgery's later Sideswipe had finally been able to leave the Ark without Ratchet riding his tail pipes about being careful, and come out to meet Onslaught.
The commander had not slammed him into the nearest flat surface to frag his processor stupid like he usually did; Onslaught had not unleashed his frustrations and anger like he often did, only to take Sideswipe's from him.
This was different.
Onslaught had stood not an arm's length away, looked him up and down, hidden crimson optics sliding over the healthy armour, seeking any damage that the younger mech may still have. Sideswipe watched the massive shoulders sagged in relief when he found nothing but a bright, healthy frontliner looking for a good, hard frag.
Everything was normal for Sideswipe, he looked normal, he was acting normal and nothing made Onslaught happier to see the bright optics that shined up at him. The half grin that spread across the mechs face.
Onslaught was wrong though. He seemed hesitant, worried even. Afraid to get to close and the illusion that was Sideswipe would disappear in a puff of smoke. Scared that Sideswipe was still laying in the Autobot's medbay, damaged and hurting. Away from him, where he couldn't hold the frontliner.
Most days Onslaught hated feeling like this, like if anything happened to the crimson mech before him, his entire world would end. He look forward to so very little, and seeing the Autobot had given him a sense of hope that he had thought had long died in a small, dark box.
His own anger and hatred and aggression all too often drowned out all other feelings. He didn't feel fear, sorrow. Just anger and aggression.
Then he tumbled into this stupid relationship with Sideswipe and everything changed. He…cared about the crimson mech. Would do anything to protect the frontliner, anything he could.
Which, apparently, was very little. If he truly had the ability to protect the frontliner he never would have been so damaged. And not for the first time, Onslaught pondered if striking up a relationship with Sideswipe had been a bad, terrible, awful idea.
The thought of Sideswipe being hurt made him weak; it made him vulnerable.
Onslaught was startled out of his downward spiralling thoughts when Sideswipe closed the distance between them, black servo waving in front of his face to attract his attention. Crimson optics snapped back into focus, staring hard at the frontliner.
The easy grin returned to Sideswipe's face. "Hello, Ons! You there my mech?"
Jerking a nod, Onslaught grunted at him, not entirely sure what to say.
Sideswipe frowned. "You okay my mech? You seem off."
Onslaught glanced up, staring at the twinkling stars overhead. "The stars are bright tonight."
Sideswipe glanced up at the tiny twinkling lights. "Ummm. Sure. Whatever." He turned his attention back to his Decepticon lover. "You okay?"
Onslaught heaved a sigh, warm air rushing his vents. This was stupid. He shouldn't be there, feeling like this. Shoulders hiking, the Combaticon regarded him. "I should go."
Sideswipe frowned, his spark flickering. "You just got here." He hated how his voice was so low, almost brittle. He needed reassurance, he needed to know that he and the Combaticon were okay. "Come on, I've been on lock down for a month. I could use some…company."
Onslaught heaved a sigh, proud shoulders drooping at the soft plea. It had been so long, too long since they had the chance to see each other. To touch.
He cursed his weakness when it came to Sideswipe, cursed the damned relationship, if that was even what this was, that had just sort of happened. Killing was easier, more liberating and less worrying when you didn't care if who you were killing meant something to you.
Even Onslaught couldn't refuse the Autobot when he started up at him with bright blue optics.
That was how they ended up laying on the desert floor, the cooling sands at their backs, the stars overhead; Sideswipe pointing out the different human constellations he had learned since being marooned on the primitive planet.
Onslaught silent, listening to the sound of Sideswipe's voice, happy to feel the others engine rumble though his frame, the gentle wash of his EM field over his much larger frame.
Sideswipe's helm was pillowed on his shoulder, his own massive squared helm laying back on the crimson Autobot's opposite shoulder; Onslaught watching the frontliner from the corner of his optic, watching the way his mouth moved. He thought of kissing those same lips, could feel his own tingle in anticipation.
He saw them, for a brief moment, spewing blood energon, dripping down his chin, caught in his denta. It forced Onslaught to look away, unable to think of watching Sideswipe die again, and he cursed himself for being so weak.
He looked back up to the stars.
"What do you think you'll do when the war is over?"
The question startled him, and for a moment, he was unsure of what to say. "I don't."
"You don't think about what you'll do?"
"No. I doubt I will survive this war, so why bother planning for something that is unlikely to happen."
Sideswipe jerked, helm twisting to stare, surprised at his commander, a flicker of disappointment rushing through his EM. "Really? You've never thought of it?" he paused again. "You think you'll die?"
Sideswipe's spark writhed at the thought of a world that was Onslaught-less.
Onslaught shook his helm. "No. I don't plan for it." Curious, he twisted his helm to catch the frontliner's blue optics. "You have?" he pointedly ignored Sideswipe's second question.
"Well. Yeah." the frontliner shrugged, his shoulders brushing Onslaught's. "'Course I have." he chuckled. "Sometimes that's all that keeps me going."
Onslaught glanced at the frontliner, not liking the swirling of his dark spark, the way it pulsed. He was not like this, he was not kind or soft. He didn't do this.
Until he met Sideswipe.
He knew he was going to curse himself for this, but he was curious. "What do you plan for then? If this war ever ends?"
Sideswipe sighed. "It has to end." he sounded so painfully young, so hopeful, wistful. He hadn't learned yet that the war never ends, it just changed. The players changed, the scene changed, but war never did.
A small part of Onslaught hoped that Sideswipe never learned that lesson, that he achieved whatever happy ending he longed for.
"Well. I don't know if I could ever really leave the Autobot's. I've been with them for so long. And well…Prowl won't leave and we can't leave him."
Onslaught felt a flare of disappointment. "Then your war will never end."
"Yeah but. At least we won't be at war any more. You know? Still have the action, but not the constant life in danger bit? That'd be nice. Maybe go exploring for a bit, with Sunny. See the universe."
Sideswipe suddenly smiled. "Sunny's always wanted to see Gammra-four. The life there is supposed to be phenomenal, beautiful. I know he'd love to paint what he sees. And, Vector-Nine! I've heard the energon tastes like the well of sparks. Pure and sweet. Perfect."
Onslaught felt his spark constrict. He had been to Grammra-four, it was as beautiful as rumor claims, but twice as deadly. The inhabitants were cruel and vicious, a dangerous planet, no place for someone who didn't know there way around.
He had been to Vector-Nine as well, it was in one of them most dangerous sectors in the known universe.
It wasn't the fact that Onslaught didn't think that Sideswipe couldn't handle himself, he had seen the frontliner in battle, and he was a force to be reckoned with, especially with his twin. They would likely be fine in those sectors…
but what if they weren't?
Sideswipe had a tendency to bite off more then he could chew.
The frontliner was talking again, his voice suddenly filled with excitement, and wonder. A want to see new places and distant planets. Most of those places Onslaught had seen, had been to.
Having Blast Off on his team helped with that, but he had never stopped to consider the planet he was on, nor its beauty. Or its fine energon. Or anything really that was outside his mission.
Sideswipe made it sound so much better then what he experienced, and he suddenly longed to go there again, but see it as the frontliner would.
"I've been," the Combaticon suddenly grunted. "To most of those planets."
Sideswipe suddenly gasped. "Really! What's it like out there?"
Onslaught tipped his helm, taking in the bright blue optics, wide with a new wonder the commander had never seen. It only served to remind him that Sideswipe had never really been off planet, how young he really was; sometimes Onslaught wondered what happened to the frontliner before he became an Autobot.
He knew a little, not nearly enough however. He knew they were in the Gladiator Pits for a time, but how long, what happened to them? Onslaught surely didn't know.
He cursed himself when he found himself wanting to know.
"You'll enjoy it out there." Onslaught nodded, looking back to the stars.
Sideswipe squirmed, pressing his frame into the sand. "Would you come with us?"
The frontliner's voice so soft, Onslaught almost missed it.
Surprised, he looked back to the Autobot, and his bright, hopeful blue optics. "After the war?"
"Yeah."
From behind his battle mask, Onslaught's lips twitched and his spark warmed. "I've got no plans."
Sideswipe beamed at him, and Onslaught again cursed how that made him feel. How warm his chest felt. He'd always been in charge, a commander. He was no explorer, he didn't go to distant planets just because.
Sideswipe would need back up, he lied to himself, the twins would need someone to make sure they didn't get killed.
Besides, if Prime won the war, and for Sideswipe's sake Onslaught hoped they did, he'd have to wait a long while before doing any of his old activities again. Why not go exploring?
"We'll have to bring Vortex along." he grumbled.
Sideswipe laughed. "He and Sunny can keep each other busy."
Onslaught snorted. "There's a horrifying thought."
Sideswipe laughed too, deeper, happier as he snuggled into Onslaught's shoulder. "It'll be fun."
Onslaught snorted. Suddenly, he had reason to fight a little harder, live a little longer.
He wanted to see Sideswipe on Vector-nine, drinking his sweet energon with the three suns setting behind him, smiling and laughing, not a care in the world.
That was Onslaught's reason to live past the war.