Synopsis: Not all questions are easy. And sometimes, you find yourself not liking those tough question's answers. Question is: What to do about it? (G1)
Right. If you're just coming up on this fic, you're going to want to turn around and look at my other one-shot, Orphaned, as this fic is set in the same universe as Orphaned. What you need to know should you decide to skip Orphaned: Rina is a human who was found abandoned near the Ark as an infant -- and as a consequence, got adopted by the Autobots. And when the duty roster got passed around, it seemed only logical Da Twins should get stuck with 'Big Brother'.
...And forgive me if I messed up on Da Twins. Lamborghinis may be my favorite, but they are not my forte.
Tough Question
Today was turning out to be one of those blessedly quiet days around the Ark. The Decepticons had gotten their afterburners handed to them hard enough and early enough in the week that Prowl was estimating the crew would have the full weekend off -- Ratchet, his apprentice First Aid, Wheeljack, and Perceptor, along with those 'bots who just couldn't duck fast enough, on the other hand, were stuck in medical until further notice. Which lead to the fact medical was off-limits to anyone under the age of twenty human years.
To one specific human just reaching her seventh year of activation, this ban was seriously annoying. True, she had dealt with it for her whole life and understood this and other bans were in place to keep her out of trouble. That did not mean she had to like said bans.
A black metallic hand twice her height swooped down behind her, scooping her up and depositing her on a red metal shoulder two dozen feet above the ground in the same span of time it took most humans to blink. "Come on, sis," the owner of the black hand smirked, looking at her out the corner of his gentle blue optics.
Rina crossed her arms over her chest, blocking the gentle red face stenciled onto her white tank top from view, crossing her denim clad legs in emphasis. Thinking better of it, she uncrossed her legs, then uncrossed her arms to toss her flowing red hair out behind her with a wave of her hand before gently taking hold of a small crease in the red armor beneath her.
"I don't like it, 'Swipe," Rina informed her mobile captor. "Every time Uncle Ratchet looks that glum, something bad happens." Rina's normally light blue eyes visibly shifted to a darker blue hue. "An' no one ever lets me see da Convoy when they come back in. Ever. An' all that does is make me even more worried."
There was a snort from her captor. "You shouldn't worry so much."
Rina did her level best to glare back at gently sparkling blue optics despite the odd angle. "Says the mech who got most of his chasse ripped out by a stray missile," the girl gave her own snort in counter.
There was a third snort from their traveling companion, a great humanoid robot whose golden paintjob sparkled like a captured fragment of sunlight and whose overall appearance was just as beautiful.
"Sideswipe's right, Rina. You worry too much." The great golden mech spoke with a cocky half-smirk tugging at his lip components.
Or not enough, Sunstreaker, the girl thought silently.
"Alright then, fine," the disgruntled seven year old conceded, her annoyance obvious. "You two don't want to answer my question about what you two and da rest of da Family get in to -- fine. Be just like everybody else when I ask them what da Pit is going on with this whole Great War thing -- and by Primus! Whatever possessed you two fragin' glitches, and da rest of da Family for that matter, to keep something like that from me?"
The two humanoid giants opened the door into their shared quarters, exchanging a 'look' with one another as they did so.
"You know why we didn't tell you," Sideswipe sighed, setting the frustrated seven year old down. The girl gave him a glare which should have curled the paint right off his armor. "And yes," Sideswipe rolled his optics theatrically, "We know you don't like it. Just like Prowl really doesn't like us for letting you curse all the time."
"Maybe we should try washing her mouth out with soap?" Sunstreaker suggested in an aside to his twin.
Optics alive with concealed laughter, Sideswipe shrugged, "Maybe."
"Fine. Fine!" Rina made a show of tossing her arms into the air in exasperation. A moment later and she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest again in a paltry hug while giving her back to the duo. "I guess I should at least be grateful to da fact you two either give me straight answer or no answers at all. Everybody else pulls a tap dance."
Sideswipe shrugged. "What can I say, sis? Nobody wants to make a loveable little glitch like you blow a circuit out of worry." So saying, the giant gently ruffled the girl's hair, only to have his finger playfully swatted away.
"Besides, we're warriors. We don't tap dance -- we demolish." Sunstreaker replied. Looking down at his arm, the golden mech growled, "Slaggin' idiots," before pulling a soft cloth seemingly out of thin air and using it to attack an offending spot on his armor.
"Which brings up another question. Why does everyone pick on the Dinobots!?"
Sideswipe snapped up from his position in front of a monitor which put the screens at Super Bowl Stadium to shame, wires leading to a strangely shaped videogame machine dangling loosely in his hand, while his yellow and black twin paused mid buff to stare blankly at Rina. A slight echo still rang in through the room, giving Rina's shouted question that much more weight.
The girl stared back at both of them, an odd seriousness in her eyes.
"I may be small. But that does not make me deaf or blind. Or stupid. Every time da -- the Dinobots come out of their room, someone corners them, and insults them. Not in the nice way, not in the way you two insult one another, the way you know there's no real insult meant. In the mean way. In the way..." Rina stopped, her breath catching in her throat.
In the way Uncle Slingshot insults me for existing, in the way Uncle Brawn insults Sunny for being who he is, in the way da Family insults the baddies they fight... an' means every word of it.
"In the way which hurts," Rina completed her stalled sentence. Taking one deep, shaking breath, with her hands balled into small fists, she shouted again, "And, for Primus' sakes, I can't take it any more!! Frag it, tell me! Why does everybody pick on da Dinobots? What did they --" What did I "-- do to rank such low grade, scrap-metal, recycled smelting pool fluid, rotten Energon, Pit-placed, insults?"
Sunstreaker opened his mouth to ask, "Why the frag would you care?" only to shut it again mid-word. Of course Rina would care about the Dinobots -- slag, if it had the Autobot symbol stamped on it and lived in (or in Omega Supreme's case, near) the Ark, it was family. Her family. And anything Rina considered hers she took care of with the same kind of obsessive passion Sunstreaker used to take care of his paintjob. What Sunstreaker really should have been asking was why it took so long for Rina to bring it up.
Sideswipe was the first to break the heavy silence which had fallen after Rina's outburst. "It's... not that easy to explain."
"Then use little words. You know, the same kind of little words you and 'Streaker used with Snarl-bro yesterday." Rina's voice was a low, cold growl of anger, righteous furry -- and hurt.
Sideswipe winced. Sunstreaker simply raised one optic brow slightly.
"Snarl-bro?" the yellow mech repeated.
"Yes, 'Snarl-bro'," Rina rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Just like you're Sunny-bro and he's Sides-bro. Is there a problem with calling the mechs who are my brothers 'bro'? Is that yet another rule that got slapped on when I wasn't looking?"
Realizing how close she was to a tantrum, the enraged child took a deep, steadying breath. "You know what? Never mind. Just... Just never mind." With that, she stormed out of the room, taking her preferred shortcut through a ground-level vent shaft and ignoring the door entirely.
Moments of silence passed. Then, Sideswipe adequately summed up the situation: "Ack."
"Yeah," Sunstreaker agreed, both cloth and offending spot forgotten. "Ack."
"She saw that?" Sideswipe looked at his twin. Catching the reference to their 'conversation' with Snarl, Sunstreaker nodded. "Primus, this isn't good."
"Yah think?" Sunstreaker caused the rag to disappear with a flick of his wrist. "For Primus' sakes, Sides, I thought I was supposed to be the dense one."
"But... But they're Dinobots!"
"They're Rina's brothers!" Sunstreaker countered. At his twin's confused look, Sunstreaker sighed. "Think, Sideswipe -- I know you've still got a functioning processor up there. Why doesn't Rina call either of us Uncle?"
"Because we got drafted into being her big brothers instead?" Sideswipe offered with a slight shrug.
"Uh-huh." Sunstreaker exaggerated shaking his head in affirmation. "Now, who else does Rina not call Uncle?"
"The Dinobots. But I don't see what...that..." Sideswipe ground to a halt mid sentence as realization hit. "Oh. Oh, slag...! She thinks... They -- her -- Rina puts the Dinobots even with us?!"
Sunstreaker nodded. "And what would you do if you heard someone insulting me?"
"Knock them into next century. Which is what Rina would do, but she can't. No wonder she nearly blew." Sideswipe exchanged a meaningful look with his twin. "We've so fraged up this big brother thing."
"I've noticed," his sibling answered deadpan.
"Well, Mr. Thoughtful, got any ideas on fixing this stellar mess? I mean, it's not like we can go around being nice to the Dinos." Realizing what he was saying, Sideswipe paused, before adding a tentative, "Can we?"
Sunstreaker allowed that question a few moments to rattle through his processor. Then, sighing, he laid one hand over his dimmed optics. "Why not?" he heard himself speaking aloud but only half-believing the words were coming from his vocalizer, "We're all Autobots anyway."
Sideswipe was silent for a moment, then sighed himself. "You think she might be just a tad fed up with hypocritical Autobots too, huh?"
His sibling graced the comment by tossing a cleaning rag at him.
"And don't come back!"
Ratchet's bellow rocked the walls of the Ark, echoing and rebounding to create the auditory illusion of the medic's voice both preceding and trailing whichever mech had the honor to be chased out of medical. Used to, but still annoyed by, the effect, the recently repaired Sunstreaker dashed out of medical as quickly as he dared, catching sight of his snickering half-repaired twin as he left. While it was true Sunstreaker would have rather stayed with said twin, he knew discretion was the better part of annoyance. That, and it'd be hard to keep an optic on his brother, anyway, if Ratchet carried through with his threat to knock him offline.
"Bolts, it was only Tracks... Short-circuited wax-hog does the same to me all the time." Sunstreaker grumbled, sulking his way down the corridor and back to his and Sideswipe's quarters.
As lost as he was in his moping, only a bind and dumb mech would have been able to miss the sight which greeted Sunstreaker as he turned the corner. A trio of Minibots surrounded a mechanism three times their size. And of the quartet, it was obvious the largest one there was the most terrified.
"Well, you big, dumb dino?" Windcharger's voice growled.
Sunstreaker paused to consider. From the looks of things, he had yet to be noticed. It would be so easy for him to disappear, paintjob notwithstanding, and watch the Dino-baiting from the safety of the shadows.
"B-But me, Sludge..." the much larger Sludge tried to back away, only to find himself pinned against the wall.
"What did they ever do to rate such insults?"
"Well, come on, out with it!" Cliffjumper demanded.
The same thing I ever did -- exist. ...I am such a hypocrite.
"Yeah! Come --!" Brawn never got a chance to finish his taunt. Someone had tapped him on the shoulder, causing the brown and tan Minibot to blink, "Huh?" and turn.
Only to go flying back onto his skid plate as the full impact a yellow fist connected with his face.
"I've always wanted a good excuse to do that." Sunstreaker smiled seemingly to himself. Turning to look at the remaining two Minobots, his smile turned into a deadly smirk. "Now, what have we got here? A trio of Mini-dolts picking on one of Rina's bros?" Sunstreaker mimicked a human cracking the knuckles of his fist. "I don't think so."
Launching into the fight, Sunstreaker laughed. Prowl was going to have a field day with this. Not to mention Ratchet... Maybe, the yellow Lamborghini thought to himself, I should pull my punches?
Brawn purposely chipping his paintjob answered that question for him.
Sideswipe circled air through his intakes in a giant robot equivalent of a sigh. There was only so much entertainment he could enjoy waiting for one of the medics to finish up with the more serious repairs and get to his minor repairs of reattaching his leg. While a human would have found the fact 'missing a leg' qualified as minor damage disturbing, Sideswipe was a giant robot (not to mention a mechanism whose sanity was in question) who operated on a set of different rules.
The red Lamborghini's silent prayer for entertainment was answered in a unique fashion. First, there was Snarl peaking his head into medical as if looking for someone. The stegosaurus seemed to spot his target, his red optics lightening in recognition, before he ducked partway back into the hallway. Then, the obvious sounds of a scuffle somewhere down the hall floated in to range. All of which was followed by Snarl, Grimlock, and, of all mechs, a dented Sunstreaker hauling a trio of unconscious Minibots in behind them, the whole of which was followed by a subdued and sullen Sludge.
Prowl sat up as best he could from his current position braced against a med berth -- the tactician had been one of the many who had not ducked behind cover fast enough to escape a barrage of Shrapnel's shells followed by heavy Seeker fire. The black and white Datsun eyed the group, his optics flickering once in a blink, and his door wings rising slightly in curious interest.
"You, Prowl, have big problem." The leader of the Dinobots growled.
"Apparently," Prowl replied deadpan.
Grimlock turned to look back behind him. "Sludge!" The sullen brontosaurus looked up from his close inspection of medical's floor. "Here!" Grimlock pointed sharply to a spot directly in front of Prowl. "Tell him, Prowl, what dumb-dumb Minibots did. Now!"
Sludge slinked backwards fearfully. "Me, Sludge, not want get in trouble."
Still surprising everyone present, Dinobots, tactician, and twin included, it was Sunstreaker who snorted sarcastically in response. "Given he threatened to stick you in a smelter, I don't think Brawn's going to have much room to press charges against you knocking his lights out. Besides, the little frager had it comin' anyway for chipping my paintjob."
"Sunstreaker." Prowl admonished the warrior's words, but not his surprising verbal leap to Sludge's rescue, with a look. Turning his attention back to the nervous dino, Prowl did his best to seem reassuring. "Please tell me what happened, Sludge."
"Well..." Sludge looked down at his hands as he fiddled with them nervously. "Me, Sludge, not doing anything bad, me, Sludge, promise! Just walking down halls -- too noisy in us, Dinobots', room for Sludge. Den they," Sludge nodded slightly towards the off-line trio of Minibots, "They corner me, Sludge; want start fight. Ask if me, Sludge, coward. Not nice. Not nice at all. Then him, Sunstreaker, punch Brawn hard because he see him, Brawn, being mean to me, Sludge. Then there fight. Him Brawn try and hurt him, Sunstreaker, but... um..."
"Him, Sludge, went and punched Brawn offline before the frager could do more than chip my paint." Sunstreaker finished succinctly.
Prowl notched an optic ridge. "Is that true, Sludge?"
"Well... Me, Sludge, got... um... fed up with him, Brawn..." Sludge managed to stand up straight for a moment, stating simply, "It one thing when him, Brawn, try and fight me, Sludge. Whole 'nother thing when him, Brawn, try to hurt her, Rina's, big brother. Him get hurt, her, Rina, get sad. Me, Sludge, not like see Rina sad."
"No, I doubt you would," Prowl nodded in understanding. There was silence for a moment as the Datsun considered what to do. Then, with a soft click, he activated his radio. "Ironhide? Would you please report to medical?"
"Sure," the burly 'bot's southern accent replied. "What for? Ratchet about tah finally take somebody's head off?"
Prowl allowed himself a small chuckle at the suppressed eagerness in the Security Chief's tone. "As entertaining as that would be, no. It seems Sunstreaker, Snarl, and Grimlock have detained three Minibots who were attempting to harass Sludge."
There was an obvious silence from Ironhide. "...Come again?"
"Sunstreaker, Snarl, and Grimlock have detained Windcharger, Cliffjumper, and Brawn, all three of whom need to be escorted down to the brig." Prowl elaborated.
"Now I know my audios are givin' out on me. I could ah sworn you said Sunstreaker was one ah da three who brought the Minibots in."
"He was." Prowl tipped his head to one side slightly. "Although I am curious as to why."
Sharing a knowing smirk with Sideswipe, Sunstreaker shrugged as best he could around his grip on Brawn's dead weight. "Eh. Just decided to change the answer to a tough question."