Shaddie's Notes: Mm'yep. More TF stuff. This time, I bring Lambo Angst. 'Cause I love the Lambos, so I must torture them. Bwahaha.

Disclaimer: Transformers belong to Hasbro and Takara. I just torture them.

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Sideswipe sat at the desk, for once silent and patient as he kept a vigil on the door. Sunstreaker dozed on the bottom bunk, oblivious to the churning thoughts of his red twin.

'The slagging idiot…What was he thinking? Why didn't he just come to me? He knows I wouldn't have actually felt insulted by it…I mean, it was Cliffjumper. What he says rarely has any value to it.'

They'd be lucky if Cliffjumper pulled through. No one knew what the minibot had said about Sideswipe to make Sunstreaker shoot him at point-blank range, but that didn't really matter anymore. What's done is done, and all that mattered is whether or not Cliffjumper lived. Though, the only reason it mattered to Sideswipe is because Cliffjumper's fate determined Sunstreakers. If Cliffjumper lived, Sunstreaker would get a massive sentence, but he would live as well. If Cliffjumper died, Sunstreaker would be deactivated—permanently.

Sideswipe heard someone outside the door, and instantly he was on his feet and rousing Sunstreaker. "Come on, Sunny. Time to get up. They're coming." Sunstreaker woke instantly, getting up to stand beside his brother. They faced the door as it slid open to reveal Optimus Prime, Ratchet, and Ironhide.

Sideswipe seemed to pull Sunstreaker closer and step in front of him at the same time. The Twins watched their higher ups for a moment, before Sideswipe demanded, "Well?" with a tone as harsh and spiteful as Sunstreaker's normal tone.

"Cliffjumper is dead, you two. You both know what that means." Optimus sounded resigned, and everyone knew he didn't want to do this. But he had no choice. He couldn't let Sunstreaker get away with murder. Ironhide stood at his side in a stony silence, while Ratchet stood behind them with a look of regret. Everyone knew the medic had a soft spot for the Twins—even the worse of the two.

Sideswipe edged farther in front of his brother. He glanced back when he felt Sunstreaker's grip on his arm, and he almost didn't believe what he saw. His brother…looked scared. That was enough to make Sideswipe drop his guard long enough for Ironhide and Optimus to get him away from his brother long enough to practically drag a most unwilling Sunstreaker out.

Ratchet put a hand on Sideswipe's shoulder, not bothering to give his patented 'it'll be alright' smile. Honestly, he knew it wouldn't be alright. At least, not for Sideswipe. Instead, the medic simply led the red Lamborghini down the hall after them, to the medbay.

---

"At least give us a few minutes," Sideswipe demanded, once again standing in front of Sunstreaker. Ratchet needed no second telling and herded Optimus Prime and Ironhide out. After all, they owed this to Sideswipe.

Ten minutes later, the three came back in. The brothers stood facing each other, their foreheads together. Each had a hand on the back of the other's head, holding the other as close as possible. Sunstreaker's eyes were dimmed and his jaw clenched, with his other hand shaking from where it rested on his brother's shoulder. Sideswipe's eyes were wide and bright, and he looked terrified, to say the least.

Ratchet approached cautiously, grabbing Sunstreaker's shoulder. The yellow and black mech's eyes brightened, and in an instant he had shifted his position. His head rested against Sideswipe's shoulder as he embraced his brother a final time and murmured something in his audio. As Ratchet led Sunstreaker to one of the tables, Sideswipe gave a very small sounding, "I…love you, too, Sunny."

The necessary systems were shut down and the proper wires pulled. Sideswipe grabbed his brother's hand tightly as Sunstreaker's eyes brightened unnaturally, then dimmed, and then finally turned black. Ratchet hastened to his office, a hand over his face. Optimus and Ironhide left as well, leaving Sideswipe to lean over the now dormant body and grieve. They didn't want to see the warrior leaning over the table, shoulders shaking in silent misery. They didn't want to see the consequences of what they had just done.

---

Ratchet heard scuffling outside his office. The door slid open as he approached, and he was met with a pair of pleading optics.

"Sideswipe…"

"Ratch, please."

The medic sighed, looking at the ground. "I can't, Sideswipe. Not a second time."

"Then let me stay in here while I do it myself." A determined edge entered the agony as he crossed his arms. Ratchet was silent for a moment, before he said, "It will take approximately three weeks for your charge to completely drain away."

---

Three weeks. Who knew twenty one days could turn to eternity? For the medic and the remaining Twin, it was longer than eternity. Ratchet had to watch as Sideswipe, a mech who he had all but adopted, faded before his eyes. Sideswipe had to wait until his charge was completely dry and he could be with his brother again.

He didn't say a word the entire three weeks. He simply sat in the corner. Occasionally he'd watch as Ratchet fixed up a few minor injuries from the others glitching around, but mostly he simply watched the floor.

No one cared when it was announced that Sunstreaker had been deactivated. It was another matter entirely when it was announced that Sideswipe had committed suicide.

People avoided the quarters the Twins had shared. No one ever went into them, but almost everyone said the same thing about them; they could swear that, as they walked past, they could hear two familiar voices inside. Whether ghosts or memories, no one was sure, and really, no one wanted to find out. The Twins were, as they were supposed to be, together to be left to their own devices.

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Shaddie's Notes: Now, that's what I call angst. On a lighter note, I bring you an alternate ending. If Cliffjumper lived.

---

Two years. Two years in solitude. Two years away from his brother and anyone else. That was Sunstreaker's punishment.

On the first day, he simply stood in a sulky silence, glaring at the corner he knew the camera was in.

On the second day, he paced the cell, eyes locked on the camera as he ranted and raved to whoever happened to be on surveillance duty.

On the third day, he had dissolved to screaming for his brother, shouting threats, and clinging to the bars.

The fourth day had him much the same, but now he simply wanted his brother, as if nothing else mattered.

He was quiet on the fifth day; leaning near the bars, save for the occasional whine for Sideswipe.

By the end of the first month, he never said a word, simply sat and watched the camera, looking as defiant as he could.

Six months had him in the corner, watching the floor. He no longer asked for his brother, though it was apparent that was all he wanted.

At a year, they were all surprised he was still making himself recharge. As it was, they all knew he forced himself to recharge by will alone, knowing that he couldn't let his charge drain; knowing he'd see Sideswipe when this was over.

Eighteen months had him looking as if he was letting his charge go. He didn't move, his eyes were dim, he didn't say a word. Multiple times found those watching him thinking he was terminated, just to see him wake up a few hours later.

The end of two years finally came, and Prowl and Sideswipe—whom had faired better simply because he hadn't been completely alone—were headed to the cell. When Prowl opened the confinement chamber, Sideswipe entered without a word and scooped his almost non-responsive brother up, taking him back to their quarters.

---

With both Twins lying on the bottom bunk, the only accurate description would be to say that Sunstreaker clung to his red Twin. Sideswipe murmured words in their own gibberish Twin language in the gold Twin's audio, holding him as close as he could, even after Sunstreaker fell into a reluctant recharge.

Two years in solitary confinement had forced Sunstreaker to realize the one thing he feared the most. He hated being without his Twin. He hated being that alone. He was afraid to feel like he didn't have anyone left.