Chapter One: A Close Call
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. They belong to their rightful owners.
—
The sound of blaster fire was all around him. Static discharge filled the air followed by the strong scent of ozone. Sideswipe stood at the center of it all, unseeing in the middle of the battlefield due to the thick cloud of dust having been sent up from all the fighting. A shot whistled by his head, nearly clipping one of his audio-horns, but the front liner didn't even flinch. It didn't matter.
None of it mattered.
There was only one thing on his processor.
He couldn't find Sunstreaker. He had to find Sunstreaker.
Sideswipe took off sprinting through the battlefield like a mech possessed while his spark cried out for his brother. He paid no mind the explosions and the resounding shouts, nor the telltale staccato shots of heavy duty artillery and the answering screams of pain. A stray bullet ripped through his side, sending bits of shredded metal flying but Sideswipe didn't stop running. He cared about none of it.
His spark gave another desperate cry, waiting for an answer that so far was not forthcoming. The frantic twin started calling out for his brother, voice almost inaudible over the deafening uproar of the battle around him. Desperation had led Sideswipe to throw all rational thinking and caution to the wind. He paid for his recklessness a moment later when a bombshell went off not far from where he was running and sent him flying through the air from the force of the blast. The ground was hard and unforgiving as he came crashing back down, his whole frame sent reeling in pain while numerous notifications popped up on his HUD.
Everything ached but still Sideswipe forced himself to his pedes, frame trembling and unsteady. He took a step forward only to be sent crashing back down to the ground as he tripped over something underfoot. A hiss of pain escaped his vocalizer and Sideswipe started to turn around to see what he'd tripped over, but froze when he realized what he was lying in.
Energon. There was energon everywhere, the scent of it so strong it almost made his tanks purge.
Sideswipe was no stranger to the lifeblood that sustained his race, and he certainly wasn't one to cringe at it. Having survived the Gladiator Pits and then being dragged into this Primus forsaken war had steeled both he and Sunstreaker's processors against the shock value. War meant blood, especially for front liners like he and his twin.
But this?
This was utter carnage.
There were piles upon piles of bodies with severed limbs and shredded bits of armor and protoform strewn about everywhere. It was as if both sides had shoveled their dead into a ditch and left them to rot, forgotten about in the wake of the factions' hatred for one another. No burial rights had been preformed, no respect was given for their fallen comrades. They had all just been… dumped in a pit to get them out of the way. It made Sideswipe feel ill, disgust rolling through him.
His optics trailed over the innumerable bodies of dead mechs, wondering if he'd find a familiar faceplate among the carnage and praying that he didn't.
But Primus did not answer his prayers that day.
A familiar golden form stood out even among at the death and carnage, though it's once pristine shine had dulled and paled once the paint nanites shut down. Once vibrant, cobalt optics that were a mirror to his own were now shut off and void of color.
Sideswipe's spark froze in his chest. Everything ceased to exist except for the broken, twisted form of his brother lying on the ground. His entire being called out to the golden mech—internally reaching for Sunstreaker's presence, his field, anything—as he dragged his frame closer but still received no answer.
He kneeled over the energon stained frame of his brother and stared, the image forever branded into his very soul.
'Incomplete, lacking, broken,' a part of him whispered.
A gaping void tore open in Sideswipe's soul and he screamed.
—
Sideswipe jerked upright in the berth, a hand clutching his chest as his fans worked to cool his overheated frame. He clawed at the protective covering over his spark chamber as a strangled scream tried to force its way out of his vocalizer. A wave of pain pulsed through him and he thrashed, spark crying out in agony and horror.
He couldn't feel the other half of his spark.
He couldn't feel Sunstreaker.
He gripped his helm and doubled over, fingers clawing in desperation and drawing energon as his wide, horrified optics stared, unfocused.
No! Primus, no! It was just nightmare! It had to be!
A wail escaped him as the possibility that his worst fears might be true dawned on him.
He can't be—!
"—ideswipe! Sideswipe!"
The red twin jerked back as if slapped, eyes wide as they refocused on the room around him and realized he was in the medbay. He'd been so lost to his panic—his thoughts running in a horrified loop—that he'd been completely unaware of his surroundings.
Prowl would have my helm if he knew…
Someone grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, causing him to snarl and slap the hands away with a vicious baring of teeth. No bot but Sunny was going to be touching him if he had anything to say about it. Then all the fire bled out of him as his tanks suddenly rolled with telltale nausea. Sideswipe lurched from his position on the berth to lean over the edge and dry heave, body trying to purge his tanks, but there was nothing left to purge by that point.
"Where's Sunny?" He rasped to whoever was listening, searching desperately for the other half of his spark he could no longer feel. Then his eyes landed on the prone form of his brother on the other side of the room and the sound that left his vocalizer was akin to a wounded animal. He struggled to get out of the bed, needing to be near Sunstreaker when a hand descended on his shoulder and pressed him back to the berth.
"Easy," Ratchet intoned firmly, voice leaving no room for argument. "He's fine, you're both—"
"Then why the Pit isn't he waking up?!" Sideswipe demanded, voice harsh and spitting static. His field lashed out with enough force to make a lesser mech filch back a step, but Ratchet only narrowed his eyes and held his ground.
"He's not waking up because I made sure he wouldn't."
When Sideswipe opened his mouth to fire off another demand the CMO shot him a glare steely enough to make him snap his jaw back shut.
"Now you listen here: I understand you're scared, and in hindsight I should have made sure you both were in medically induced stasis to prevent something like this from happening, but we'll just have to deal with the fallout. You—" He jabbed a finger at Sideswipe. "—will not try to wake him up and by all you believe that is holy, if you don't stay in that berth I will weld you to it. Sunstreaker may have taken the blast for you, but you by no means came out unscathed." Ratchet glared down at Sideswipe, waiting for a nod of confirmation before continuing with a huff.
"Good. Now Sunstreaker's going to be alright, but he took a considerable amount of damage when he shoved you out of the way of the plasma blast. His armor could only do so much at such a short distance. There are severe burns on the right side of his chassis and shoulder, and there was a considerable amount of damage to his protoform and internals, but he fortunately the damage won't be permanent."
Ratchet let out a quiet sigh escape his vents to look over at the prone form of Sunstreaker, the monitors connected to him beeping steadily. "You both are lucky to be front liners because without all that armor he would have lost his arm and the entire right side of his chassis in the blast."
"But he'll be alright, won't he?" Sideswipe questioned in a desperate voice, needing to be sure. "You said he'd be okay."
"And he will be, but it will take time," Ratchet affirmed, turning his gaze back to the red twin. "I'll have to keep him in medically induced stasis until the damage is healed enough to my liking." The sudden horror that crossed Sideswipe's face didn't go unnoticed. "You know he won't stay in the berth long enough to let everything heal properly, he's too restless. The damage is too extensive for me to risk him reopening the wounds."
Sideswipe felt a sense of dread settle in his gut like a stone. "B-But I can't—"
Ratchet settled a hand atop the younger Cybertronian's shoulder. "I know it's hard for you not to be able to sense him—"
"No," Sideswipe hissed with a ferocity that surprised Ratchet. "You don't know. You have no idea what it's like not being able to feel Sunny. My spark is screaming right now because I can't sense him." He squeezed his optics shut and clutched his helm in his hands, nails creating trails of energon in their wake. "If I don't start to sense his spark soon, Ratch, I'm gonna lose it and then bots are gonna die."
The implications of what Sideswipe meant made Ratchet stop cold.
It was well known that the twins were some of the most lethal front liners the Autobots had at their disposal, but very few outside of Optimus, Ratchet, Prowl, and Jazz understood why the pair were so effective. Besides the bond making them perfect mirrors for each other in a fight, they had a primal baseline of coding that could turn them essentially feral. Should something trigger that coding to activate, the twins would become almost mindless with the sole focus of surviving and tearing apart anything they perceived as a threat. They had taken to calling it berserker coding and it was Optimus's ultimate trump card. When the twins entered that state, nothing could stop them until they came out of it.
It was a truly terrifying thing to witness. The twins lost of semblance of themselves, their only drive being surviving and protecting one another. There were no friends, no allies outside of each other, only threats and enemies.
If Sideswipe was indicating that not being able to sense Sunstreaker would make him go berserk… Ratchet shuddered to think of the aftermath.
Ratchet was silent long enough to cause Sideswipe to open his eyes to look at him. The seasoned medic's lips were pursed and optics narrowed in deep thought, not looking at Sideswipe any longer but at Sunstreaker. Sideswipe could sense that the medic's field was laced with conflict and uncertainty. The red twin could only stand the silence so long before he broke it.
"Ratch...?"
"Alright," Ratchet answered, finally turning to face the him. "I'll reduce the anesthesia enough to where his mind will be active enough for you to sense him." The medic sliced a hand through the air, cutting off whatever exuberant exclamation was about to come out of Sideswipe's vocalizer. "But he will remain in stasis until I deem him healed, is that understood?"
"Yeah, yeah, of course, Ratch! Primus, thank you so much—"
"Don't thank me yet," he grumbled as he walked over to the IV hooked up to Sunstreaker's arm. "I know how you get when you're bored. And since I know you won't be leaving this room—"
"Pit no," Sideswipe's snapped, engine revving with a snarl as his plating flared, protective anger pulsing through him at the thought of leaving Sunstreaker alone, defenseless.
"As I was saying," Ratchet growled without any real malice, not bothering to look over at the other as he finished his task. "Since I know you won't be leaving, it will only be a matter of time before you get bored and I won't have you tormenting my other patients."
"I'll be on my best behavior," the red twin vowed as he came over to stand next to Sunstreaker's berth.
"I know you will."
Task completed, Ratchet checked the rest of the machines monitoring Sunstreaker's condition before nodding his approval and heading to the door. "You know how to get ahold of me should his condition change."
"You'll be the first to know," Sideswipe mumbled distractedly, already climbing up on the berth to be beside his twin, no longer paying Ratchet any mind.
The old medic let out a silent sigh of sympathy at seeing the stricken look on Sideswipe's face before letting the door slide shut behind him.
—
News traveled fast and it was only a matter of time before everyone heard what happened. There were plenty of bots that tried to stop by the twins' room to check up on the pair, but almost all of them were either turned away by Ratchet and First Aid, or Sideswipe snarled at them in wordless protective animosity until the visitors retreated. The only ones that were allowed entrance without fuss were Ratchet and First Aid naturally, Bumble Bee, Jazz, Iron Hide, Prowl, and Optimus. (And even though it was irrational, Sideswipe still placed himself between the visitors and his brother.) Jazz and Bee were the ones to visit most often on their off time. The pair brought plenty of video games to try and keep Sideswipe occupied, but the red twin could only muster up enough enthusiasm to play one or two rounds before turning his attention back to Sunstreaker.
Most of the time when no one else was around, Sideswipe would talk to Sunstreaker as he slept. He'd let his field mingle with his twin's in the hopes that maybe Sunstreaker would respond. Sometimes it would work and Sunny's field would weakly flicker against Sideswipe's own, but more often than not there was no response. He could feel Sunny's presence in his spark again, but it was almost always non-responsive.
It was slowly driving Sideswipe insane.
He couldn't sleep, and when he did it was always riddled with reoccurring nightmares of the day Sunstreaker shoved him out of the way of the oncoming blast. He only ate when Ratchet came storming in the room like a force of nature and threatened to force a feeding tube down his throat if he didn't start taking his medicinal energon. He hadn't bothered to go to the fresher since before the incident. Sideswipe even told Sunstreaker this to try and get some sort of reaction, but there was none.
It was a week later before something finally changed.
Sideswipe was half-heartedly playing one of the games Bee had dropped by earlier that orn when he thought he felt a ghost of a flutter along the bond. Immediately the game pad was forgotten and the crimson twin whirled to face his brother, trying and failing not to get his hopes up, holding his breath that maybe he would feel something again. His gaze was earnest on the prone form of his brother, sending gentle waves of encouragement he hoped the other could feel. But the klicks ticked by with no other reaction and Sideswipe felt his spark fall with defeat.
Turning away in dejection, he reached to pick up the discarded game pad when suddenly he felt the flutter again. He whipped around a second time, certain he'd felt something this time. Staring at Sunstreaker he didn't dare to breathe. A stretch of nothing for a few klicks and then there it was again. Sideswipe's optics went wide, ignoring the sudden spike in noise from the numerous machines hooked up to Sunstreaker as his brother's frame started to move. A twtich in his servos, a shift in his limbs, the slow clenching of his fists, a light sputtering growl from his engine.
And then the blue optics that mirrored his own were cracking open, gaze hazy and unfocused as Sunstreaker instinctively sought out his twin. Side's lower lip trembled as Sunstreaker made eye contact with him and with a pitiful whine Sideswipe launched himself at his brother, clutching to him desperately as a broken sob of relief left his vocalizer. Sunny's arms came around him to hold his sobbing brother, too exhausted to ask what happened and why they were in the med-bay. He could partially put the pieces together even in his drug addled processor. So, he simply held Sideswipe close and let his engine idle at a soothing rumble, letting Sides vent his pent-up anxiety and stress.
And then the golden twin was getting slapped none too gently on his still healing wounds and he flinched, lips turning down into a forming scowl when Sideswipe glared up at him.
"Don't you ever pull that slag again!"
Sunstreaker glared down at his brother and snorted.
"As if you would do any different," he rumbled in exasperation, processor already pounding with an oncoming headache. The sensation eased as he felt Sides transfer most of the pain to himself, the action more reflexive than anything. When one twin was hurting the other would help to share the pain and act as a buffer. It was automatic. Twins shared everything, even pain.
"Does it look like I give a shit?! If you ever do that again, I'll send you into a coma myself!"
Sunstreaker growled, tightening his hold around Sideswipe as he snapped out a retort.
The two were so focused on growling at one another that they didn't notice Ratchet and First Aid throw open the door, panicked that Sunstreaker's condition had suddenly taken a turn for the worse, his monitors going haywire and setting off alarms in both of the medics' HUDs.
The medics watched, momentarily slack-jawed, as the pair shot off barbed remarks and waspish retorts to one another. But even as the twins all but yelled at each other, neither of them had yet to let up their hold on the other.
And so with a ping to First Aid's comms, Ratchet told his prodigy to stand down and leave the pair alone. Right now the twins needed to be alone and sink into their bond so they could feel whole again. There would be time to check Sunstreaker over later.
By then the pair had stopped growling insults and simply clutched at one another with a desperation only conjunxes could possibly understand, the bond open wide and flowing between them, reassuring each other as much as themselves that everything was fine.
They were so lost in one another they didn't notice the door quietly slide shut as the medics let them be.
Yes, everything would be just fine.
—
Thank you so much for reading!
This is my first fanfic and it took a lot to work up the courage to write this and finally post it. I would like to thank my friends for encouraging me and helping me along the way, otherwise I doubt I would have ever made it this far. I'd also like to thank J.M. Spellbound, the author of the beautifully written fic What Once Was Lost, for letting me use her idea for the berserker coding in this story. I highly recommend you go read her fics if you like Transformers. You won't regret it.