Where was that piece of slag? Slingshot was going to rip his wings off when he found him.

How could a fellow Autobot do that to another? And to a sparkling no less! Granted, he was technically a sparkling too, but he and the rest of the aerialbots saw the protectobots as their little brothers. He imagined someone taking advantage of Fireflight's fear of reprisal like that, and it only fueled his hate-fire more.

Was he going to kill Powerglide? Honestly he didn't know. He was definitely going to do something that that miserable cod-sucking scum would remember.

::Slingshot, are you okay? What happened?:: Silverbolt demanded over the comm, able to feel the jet's raw fury all the way from his office. He'd never felt any of them so angry.

::Dude, what the frag? What's going on?:: That was Air Raid.

Skydive cut in, ::Don't do something stupid. Where are you?::

Like he'd tell them so Fireflight could give him a hug. As if that would make it better. If and when they caught up with him, he'd probably be in stasis cuffs.

Turning off his comm, the aerialbot also put up a mental block so they couldn't find him as easily. He had to find his target, and quickly - before Silverbolt suspected his intentions and alerted someone.

Powerglide was easy enough to find; he was in the sparsely populated rec room, refilling an enegon cube at the dispenser. Slingshot unsubspaced an energon blade, intent on his prey, but what little common sense he had left made him put what he wanted to do with that blade off a few minutes. It wasn't easy; just looking at him made him see red. He pressed against him.

"Make a move and I'll gut you."

"What are you doing?" Powerglide hissed, confused and mentally shitting bricks as he felt the tip of a knife dig into his back-strut. What the- what had he done to the aerialnuts? Recently?

"Outside. We're gonna have a little talk. Now."

"Okay okay, stop poking," Powerglide grumbled, surrendering and going with him without so much as a call for help. He didn't want to end up in Ratchet's medbay with a knife embedded in his back, and figured he could talk himself out of whatever this was with some of that sweet highgrade he stole from Ironhide, for which the Twins were conveniently blamed.

He should have opted for the knife; unfortunately, the red mech had no way of knowing what Slingshot was capable of, and until that night, neither did Slingshot.

...

::He's not in our quarters. ::

::The target range is empty!::

::Rec room's clear!::

::I can't find him anywhere. ::

Silverbolt abruptly stopped jogging down the hall, having been on the way to the rec room himself. Scrap, but he had a bad feeling about this - Slingshot had felt downright murderous.

::Stay spread out, I'm getting Red Alert. We'll find him.:: He commed. If anyone could tell them where Slingshot was, it was the paranoid Security Director. He turned around and jogged back the way he came, passing mechs oblivious to his dilemma. Soon enough he was banging on the security room door.

After a few deliberate seconds it slid aside. Red Alert quirked an optic ridge, obviously unamused. "Good evening, Silverbolt."

"Yeah, hi…" Silverbolt started unprofessionally, tilting his head to see past him incase Slingshot was magically inside. When the mech pointedly frowned at his action, he realized what he was doing and said:

"We can't find Slingshot, and I'm worried he might hurt someone."

Red Alert's optics widened. "What? Why?"

"I don't know, but he felt, I mean, I've never felt him this angry. Please, I have to find him."

"If this is a prank..." Red Alert warned, stepping back so he could enter; Slingshot and Sideswipe were often in cahoots. The aerial Commander trailed him to one of the wall mounted monitors and politely didn't look as 'Red put in the password, though doubtless it would be changed as soon as he left. Red Alert remained motionless as he fished through data at lightspeed. Silverbolt was left to impatiently tap a ped in the silence.

"Uh oh."

The tapping stopped. "What do you mean uh-oh?"

Red Alert eyed him and made it so that the monitor display slowed down. It was a feed of the rec-room, and not too long ago given the people in the background. Slingshot was talking to Powerglide, standing oddly close.

"What's he doing?" Silverbolt asked, confused. Uh-oh?

Red Alert switched the camera feed to a different angle, this one showing a small object between them and the reason for their postures - a knife.

Oh.

"Frag!" Silverbolt hissed. What was going on? Then the video switched to another as Red Alert sifted through them, this one a view from outside the entrance to the Ark. They watched as Slingshot snarled something to Powerglide before the glider relented and transformed, the jet right behind him. They took off into the night and Red Alert swore.

"Frag." He agreed.


Slingshot cracked his knuckles, wincing with the motion. He'd never hit someone that hard. Absently, his mouth curled into a sneer; he hoped this was only a 100th of what Powerglide felt. Was feeling. That is if he could still feel anything at all.

"Slingshot!"

Scrap, Slingshot thought. Here comes the calvary. Every party had its party poopers, which was too bad; Slingshot was having a ball. He didn't bother turning around, prepared for this. "What?"

A strong servo suddenly yanked him around. Silverbolt's grip was so tight it dented armor. "What have you done!?"

Slingshot let his wings twitch, just a little too much. He didn't bother responding.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?! DO YOU?!" Silverbolt roared, shaking him. "ANSWER ME!"

"He's not dead." Slingshot said quietly, though Powerglide was putting on a better act than him. He hadn't moved in a while.

"No thanks to you." Silverbolt practically hissed.

It hurt, that Silverbolt thought he'd be so careless as to actually kill Powerglide. Hello, they were still at war with a bunch of blood thirsty Decepticons! You couldn't just go around killing people and doing them a favor, even when those people deserved it. Give him some credit! But Slingshot let static seep into his voice box, optics dimmed and unfocused.

"What're you saying?" He slurred back with equal venom.

Silverbolt hadn't released his death grip, but now he was looking at him funny. "You tried to kill him!" He snarled, all up in his face.

Ugh, my poor audios, Slingshot thought. Speaking of that, He let electricity dance around them a bit, the way he'd seen it happen on the old security vids. Back when Red Alert had his own little attack. "If I wanted that 'Con dead he would be."

"Powerglide's not a 'Con you dolt!" Silverbolt snapped. But his furious optics lingered on the sparks the way Slingshot had hoped.

Time for the final act.

"YES HE IS!" Slingshot suddenly shouted, startling Silverbolt since he'd been talking quietly up until now. With his audios sparking like a motherfragger, he shook and hollered like a mech possessed. "I KNEW YOU WOULDN'T CARE! WHY CAN'T ANYONE SEE IT! HE'S A 'CON! HE'S A DIRTY 'CON!"

Silverbolt was having trouble holding him, and Slingshot knew he must look positively demonic to the shuttle, perhaps even...berserk.

"I do believe you. Calm down. I don't think you're in your right processor right now." Silverbolt tried to calm him, though it was obvious his leader was trying not to grin while they struggled. And that made Slingshot want to smile too.

He was buying it. He was really buying it.

In the distance, ambulance sirens wailed. No doubt Ratchet was coming, the others just behind. And following them, whatever repercussions the future held.

But despite that, Slingshot wasn't afraid. He let another few sparks flit around his audios to distract his leader from the fact that he wasn't, in fact, crazy. The way he saw it, he'd done his duty as an Autobot today.


"Why are we all the way up here?" Streetwise asked, looking down at the rocks far below in distaste.

"I needed some fresh air." Slingshot said. He was sitting right on the cliff's edge so the wind could wash over him. He held out his wings in delight. That hit the spot.

"There's air down there."

Slingshot kicked his legs like he wasn't looming over a hundred foot precipice. "Fresher air."

"But we're outside, isn't it all the same air?"

"Fine. Windier." Slingshot conceded. "And this way nobody can hear us."

"About that…." Streetwise sounded uncomfortable. "Um, how much did you hear?"

Slingshot sighed, swinging his legs back to solid ground so he could scoot around and face the mustang, who leaned against a tree further back. No way he was going near the edge - he must think I'm suicidal, the aerialbot thought with a snort.

"All of it. But the others don't know, so don't go running. I won't tell."

A sparkbeat. "You-...you won't?"

"No."

Streetwise stared. He was shaking. And gawking. Shgawking. "But but but-you know what I did!"

The words echoed against the rocks. A sentence.

"I do. But you're the one that has to live with it." Slingshot offered, then frowned. Where had that come from? He needed to stop hanging around Silverbolt so much.

"And you won't tell."

"Not if you don't want me to. What do you want?" Slingshot asked, another gust of wind bathing his frame. Streetwise didn't answer for a minute.

"For things to go back the way they were. For Power-...," his voice hitched, "for him...to leave me alone." He admitted. Maybe having someone to talk to wouldn't be so bad. He knew deep down he could never tell his brothers, but he already felt better that Slingshot - someone he looked up to, like the rest of the aerialbots - wasn't screaming at him or denouncing him as an Autobot.

Said aerialbot scowled, his voice suddenly dark. "Don't worry. He will never bother you again."

"What?!"

"Yup. Probably wouldn't touch you with a ten foot pole if Prime ordered it. You don't have to-oof!"

Streetwise had glomped him in a jubilant hug. "Thank you! Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!"

Awkwardly - he wasn't really one for all that mushy stuff, that was more 'Flight's style - Slingshot hugged him back, feeling strangely warm at the sincere gratitude. "Uh, Cliff." He choked out.

"Oh, sorry." Streetwise quickly crawled back so he wouldn't, you know, fall to his death. "What did you tell him?"

"Just what I'd make Superion do if he goes crying to Prime. Among, uh, other things."

The Protectobots, on a mission, had pretty much missed the entire episode. No doubt the Ark's notorious rumor mill had filled them in on those other specifics. But he knew Streetwise would figure the truth, that he hadn't actually glitched.

Streetwise's face fell, as if reading his mind. "I...sorry. Now everybody thinks you're glitched."

"Don't be. They always called me that anyway, and it was worth it." Slingshot said, flicking a wing dismissively.

That cheered him up. A little. "Was he scared?"

Slingshot grinned and punched him on the arm. "Hahaha, yeah, freakin' pissed himself!" he laughed, making Streetwise giggle. And just for a moment, things went back to the way they were.


You can all guess what Powerglide did. But Streetwise? You'll have to find out.

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