A/N: This is just something I wrote in my free time. I'm debating with myself whether or not to continue. Story takes place after Transformers Prime: Predacons Rising. I don't own Transformers or any characters appearing in this story.

Reviews would be remarkable. Please let me know what you think.

Operation: Entry

"I don't think he's here."

The small mech gave his companion a frustrated glance before turning back to stare at the sealed doors towering before his tiny black and red figure. "Don't say that. I know he's here; I can feel it," he whispered as he reached out to place his servo on the giant metal slabs, inhaling deeply after making contact. "We can feel it," he corrected himself, raising his tone to get his brother's attention.

"Ya keep saying ya know he's here or there, but we haven't found him anywhere yet." The purple bot kicked at the disheveled ground as he spoke, his voice struggling to carry out the solely sarcastic tone he intended. With a sigh he watched as his twin ignored his pessimistic jab, choosing instead to carefully trace the thin seam between the doors with his finger.

"How do you think we can get in, Rumble?" The mech turned with a cocked helm to face his self-disengaged brother, gesturing towards the building with his free servo.

Rumble scuffed bitterly under his visor and propped himself against the short wall surrounding the now littered "courtyard"—debris field was a more suiting name for the place. "Like that's ever been a problem before. Or have all those years in space made you rusty, 'Zee?" he snorted loudly, allowing his shoulders to droop in his slacked position.

The red and black minicon snarled and glanced back towards the doors, his finger still pressed against the cold, smooth surface. "If yer so confident why ya over there instead of helpin' me over here?" he retorted sharply before turning to look directly at his twin.

Frenzy almost cut his sentence short as his optics focused on Rumble. Was something wrong? The frown possessing his twin's faceplate was almost… fearful. "Hey, what's the deal? Ya scared or somethin'?" he questioned, the unfamiliar expression catching him off guard.

The purple twin simply crossed his arms over his chest and leaned further back. In truth, he seriously didn't like the looks of the shadowy dilapidated structure—a relic from the war. There were few places still like this on Cybertron since the rebuilding, and the eerie silence was bringing back the more disturbing memories of the past conflict.

Rumble shuttered slightly as his optics wondered from destroyed walls to smashed columns to caved roofs to blackened, broken windows. Even the air seemed faintly tinted with the scent of burnt rubber and motor exhaust, a telling reminder of the ghosts of the all-too-recent past.

Why would the Boss be here?

Rumble could have cursed his processor for bringing up the reason they were even in this mess. The minicon had been desperately trying to suppress it for awhile, but the feeling in his spark just wouldn't leave—a sore ache throbbing in the middle of his chassis. No matter how hard he tried to ignore it, it wouldn't cease. Yet if he attempted to focus on it purely, it would disappear—slip right through his grasp. It didn't make sense. And their hopeless pursuit of it was only getting them into more trouble. They were caught in an unending loop of chaos and confusion, trying to understand something that simply wasn't possible.

So maybe, he was scared. It wasn't like he was going to admit it out loud, especially to his slightly inciting twin. Their shared spark would be enough for the red minicon to feel his fear, as well as his irritation. It was meaningless of Frenzy to even ask him such a mocking question when the answer was very much apparent.

The war was over. Cybertron had been revived. Rumble had had enough.

"Frenzy, can't you just stop already? He's not here. And he's not coming back," the minicon finally allowed the words to form in the "spoken" language, his voice lowering to a whisper halfway through. The cassette drooped his helm with a frustrated sigh. The reply hadn't come out as nicely as it sounded in his head. "I just don't wanna get arrested again," he mumbled, hoping to make up for the awkwardness of his first comments. Rumble cringed to himself; somehow, that sounded even worse. Slowly raising his helm, he met his brother's blood-red optics.

Frenzy seemed to have frozen in his standing position, staring at his twin in silence as strange barrage of conflicting emotions flooded through their bond. He didn't understand how Rumble could have changed so drastically; the mischievous, obnoxious nature of his brother seemed to have been overridden by his fear, his uncertainty, his doubt. He didn't think they were going to succeed.

Frenzy scowled in disgust. "You know he's here! You can sense him as well as I can! How can you just give up like that?!" he shouted, shattering the once steady silence.

Rumble flinched at the high volume of his twin's voice, as if the words could physically harm him, which, in Frenzy's case, he couldn't be too sure they couldn't. He finally turned away, his visor reflecting the abandoned ruins around them. I dunno know, Frenzy, he whispered over their split-spark sadly.

Servos hung limply at his side, Frenzy broke his glare and tilted his helm to the doors once again. The statements Rumble had been repeating ever since they had arrived on Cybertron replayed in his processor over and over again. He's not here. Just forget him. He's gone, Frenzy. We need to move on. The Boss is dead.

No.

He wasn't just going to give up. He wasn't going to abandon the one he was most loyal to. It was their mission to find him. Their objective. They were incomplete without him. Just two lost minicons.

His tiny fists clenched in conclusion, Frenzy activated his piledrivers and confidently approached the entryway.

"What are you doing?" Rumble called over to him, his voice barely reaching an audible volume.

"What's it look like, Glitch-Head? I'm making an entrance," the red and black cassetticon snapped back. He thrust his transformed arms towards the doors with as much force as his small frame would allow. I'll find Soundwave by myself if I have to. A resounding clang rang throughout the courtyard, echoing back in the twins' audio receptors. Frenzy glowered at the dented doors as if disgusted by their defiance to give way at the first blow. With a yell of frustration, he tried again.

Rumble let out a sigh at Frenzy's continuous attempts, cringing at each thunderous collision. His brother wasn't succeeding in accomplishing anything by himself—unless of course his aim was to capture the attention of everyone within earshot. And even worse: Frenzy had just pulled the guilt factor on him.

It was true: he didn't believe they would ever find Soundwave again. He was afraid they would discover something worse: something that would confirm that they weren't going to ever find their master.

But, they couldn't just give up. Frenzy was persistent on that. They could still feel Soundwave's presence through their sparks. If there was any change he was still out there, they had to find him.

The purple cassetticon slowly leaned back on his pedes. He would continue. If not for himself, then for Frenzy... for the others.

A rumbling tingle vibrated throughout Frenzy's frame as he mercilessly smashed the plates of steel. He didn't even notice the figure behind him until the servo grabbed his shoulder. Frenzy spun around at the contact, scowling as some gruesome memory flashed through his mind. "What the pit do you want?!" he practically spit the words out as he recoiled from his twin's grip.

Ignoring the threatening gleam in Frenzy's visor, Rumble mustered the widest grin he could. He took a step back, his arms suddenly buzzing as they transformed. "Quit the 'hero' scrap, Frenzy. I'm coming with ya. If either of us is gonna find the Boss, it'll be me," he announced proudly, beaming at his nearly identical comrade. Besides, there's no harm in trying again.

Frenzy rolled his optics but allowed himself to smirk at his twin's more characteristic obnoxiousness, even if it was obviously being faked. "You're such a slagger, Rumble," he hissed, hardly suppressing the urge to elbow his twin hard.