Sideswipe was by his brother's side in an instant, shoving past a confused Thundercracker and jumping over a shocked Skywarp. He skidded to a stop, grasping Sunstreakers hands and tearing them away from his chassis.
He ignored the indents of sharp claws and the scrapes of paint and metal where his brother had dug viciously deep and held both struggling servos in one of his own, his spark twisting and screeching from the bombardon of pain from his other half.
Sideswipe sent desperate thrums to his brother, begging him to calm down, that it was okay. Soothing pulses joined the pile, and Sideswipe flinched at the pain he was feeling from his twin.
"Sunny!" He shouted, voice laced with finely concealed panic.
His brother's shrieks broke off and he collapsed, his only brace his brother's hand that had snuck under his back to hold him up.
Suntreakers body shuddered, and his venting became short and shallow. His optics spluttered and fritzed, before fading as he lost consciousness.
Sideswipe frowned, curling his own conscience around his brothers, trying to soothe and calm the whirlwind of pain, shock and quaking fright.
The red twin leaned other his brother, internal pump quickening, his spark twisting in worry.
He wasn't a medic, he had no idea what was wrong, or why Sunstreaker was shrieking and suffering at the hands of an indescribable pain.
He glanced up, immediately noticing that the two seekers had fled the scene.
Good, he thought, one less thing he had to worry about.
As his brother's vents gave one more shuddering cough, and his EM field retreated tight to his body, Sideswipe quickly accessed his comm. unit, and was instantly greeted by the audial wrenching sound of crackling static.
Great.
Bundling his brother close, while doing his best not to jostle him, he gently lifted him into a bridal carry.
Sunstreaker groaned, face scrunching into unconcealed pain.
"It'll be alright. Ratchets here, he'll know what to do." Sideswipe reassured, mostly to himself.
"I hope." He muttered as an afterthought, fingers curling around his brothers marred paint job
Boy was he going to pitch a fit about that once he woke up, especially considering it didn't look like they would be going anywhere anytime soon. Their dilapidated planet probably wasn't holding any spare wax for his egotistical brother.
Making his way back to Ratchet was tricky, the smoke had barely cleared, and it was harder to watch where his feet were going while carrying his brother, who squirmed and groaned each time Sideswipe accidentally jostled him.
Sunstreaker whimpered as Sideswipe foot collided with a wrecked piece of shuttle foliage, causing him to stumble. He quickly caught himself, eyes worriedly scanning his brother as he straightened himself out.
"Sorry, sorry." He muttered guiltily.
After avoiding a couple more scattered obstacles, the familiar orange container came into view once more, but the angry swears and bickering were mysteriously absent.
"Ratchet?" He called, hoping the medic was still there.
"Still here." The CMO answered, voice much less irritated than it was a couple of breems ago.
Sideswipe found the medic flat on his aft as he sorted through various medical equipment, grumbling to himself as he divided and categorized his small collection of tools. The Decepticon he had been treating was gone, a dried puddle of energon the only clue of his staying.
Sideswipe swallowed nervously, and gently lowered his brother to the ground, and got a panicked burst from his other half as he did.
He kept his hand on his brother's chest, reassuring him he was there with a short pulse of his own.
Satisfied, the yellow twin settled again, his venting still short and raspy. The noise didn't pass Ratchet, and his head snapped up, blue optics narrowing in on the source.
He pulled himself to his feet, scanner already phasing over Sunstreaker.
"What happened?"
Sideswipe shrugged, hands twiddling together nervously, "I found him unconscious near the dumb purple jet and the other blue one, and he just started to scream…"
Sideswipe trailed off, frown marring his usually cheerful face, "Ratchet, he sounded like he was in a lot of pain."
Ratchet switched off the scanner, face grim.
"It's no wonder," He started, kneeling down to Sunstreakers level.
Sideswipe folded his arms, looking expectantly at the medic as he trailed off.
"It's shrapnel. A whole lot of it too." Ratchet said grimly.
"From the shuttle exploding?"
"Must have been, was he close to it when you found him?"
Sideswipe nodded, face downtrodden, "I thought there would have been some sort of entry mark? I couldn't see anything."
"That's because you're not looking hard enough. Sunstreaker, unfortunately, got the brunt of the hit, and all the shrapnel that did hit him was small. You can see here, though, in-between the seams, they've gotten in through parts of his exposed protoform." Ratchet explained, pointing carefully to where small entry wounds were leaking energon, and trickling in between seams.
"Well, if there that small it shouldn't cause too much damage, right?"
Ratchet shook his head, "The opposite, actually. These little metal pieces will make their way through his internals until they reach his spark. And it will be a slow journey, it could take cycles or deca-cycles for the shrapnel to reach his spark."
"Well, that's a good thing right?"
Ratchet shrugged, fiddling with the clasps to Sunstreakers armor, "I suppose, it'll be painful, and it'll be better for him and easier for me if he stays unconscious. But removing the shrapnel without the proper equipment and monitoring systems will be difficult."
Sideswipe scowled, "Why can't we just contact the ark? I mean it won't take to long for someone to come get us."
Ratchet sighed, face uncharacteristically worried, "Sideswipe, we came here through the space bridge. The Decepticon space bridge. You know how long it took to hitch a ride without getting caught. And we certainly didn't expect the Decepticons to be using it at the exact same time we would, hence the crash. I mean look at the tower, look at the space bridge."
Sideswipe followed the medic's gaze, filching at the smoking remains of both factions shuttles, and the space bridge that sat destroyed on top of the large tower.
"Well, then what are we going to do? You can't just let Sunny's spark gutter."
Ratchet raised a hand, "I'm not. We'll just have to gather all the equipment we have, and do our best to scavenge whatever we can from the ships."
Sideswipe rose to his feet, nodding fast.
"Hold on, first we have to get your brother somewhere safe, and away from all this smoke. Who knows what those Decepticons will try."
The two found a comfortable place to lay low in the lobby of an old, rusting building. Its windows were shattered, and the door completely knocked off, but the inside was sheltering enough. Dirty and destroyed, but shelter.
They had settled Sunstreaker behind the large reception desk, and Sideswipe watched with worried eyes as Ratchet stripped off the last of Sunstreakers upper armor, his scarred protoform revealed to the cool air.
Sideswipe had then left Ratchet to scan and poke at his brother's protoform, trusting the medic to take care of his twin, and leaving the building to forage for equipment, and energon.
By the time he had found the crash site again, the smoke had cleared and the fire died, leaving Sideswipe to search through the burnt and rattling shuttles with much more ease. Prowl was still nowhere to be found, and Sideswipe felt slightly guilty for forgetting about the second in command. He shook the thought away and settled on searching for him while he looked for supplies.
He started with his own faction's shuttle, his first step into the ship met with creaking and shaking. The red twin grimaced as he lowered his other foot, and ducked his head to avoid colliding with hanging wires and loose foliage.
The cockpits glass screen was shattered, and Sideswipe grimly deduced that that was where Prowl must have been catapulted through it. Sideswipe frowned as he examined it, and then peered out of the screen, hoping to catch a glimpse of the second in command. His optics caught nothing, and he frowned, quickly backtracking and using the hole in the side of the shuttle as an easy exit once he had gathered as many gauzes, tape and a number of other medical equipment (that Sideswipe did not know the name of) as he could.
The Decepticon shuttle held even less equipment, but still contained a few undamaged energon cubes that Sideswipe subspaced with a sigh of relief. Low rationing would become a serious problem the longer they were stranded.
He left the shuttle quickly, not wanting to run into a fight if the other Decepticons returned. As much as would love to dish out some punches to the other faction, his brother was his first priority.
His next stop was to the front of the Autobots shuttle, where he stood in confusion for a couple klicks when he caught no sight of Prowl in the immediate area, where he expected him to land when he was flung out of the shuttle.
He checked behind containers and foliage, under scraps that had fallen off the shuttle, but still nothing. With his chronometer not functioning properly, he had no idea what time it was, or for how long he had been looking, but the renewed ache of his leg made him reluctantly turn back, guilt in his eyes as he limped his way back to the building they had bunkered down in.
Nothing had changed since he left. Ratchet was still leaning over his brother, face drawn into something of perplexity.
"Uh, everything okay?" Sideswipe asked, not liking the look on the medic's face.
"Well, I can see some shrapnel that is still near the surface, but there just still too hot to remove. But, I did find some exit wounds on his back and arms, and I stitched those up easily."
"Okay, well that doesn't sound too bad."
Ratchet sighed, "I suppose not. But there is also the threat of infection. But anyway, what'd you get?"
"Uh, here." The red twin said as he dumped the medical equipment he had gathered on the floor.
"And, I found some energon cubes!" He continued cheerfully, ignoring the annoyed look Ratchet shot him as he gathered up the dropped equipment, instead pulling the cubes out from subspace and offering one to the medic.
"Thanks. We'll have to conserve these for as long as possible, so be careful."
"Yessir."
Silence fluttered down on the two of them, and Sideswipe, for once, enjoyed it as
he settled himself down next to the medic, back resting comfortably to the desk.
But, after a while of basking in the surprisingly relaxed air, the good feeling left him as quickly as it came, and he shifted nervously, "I, uh," He started, "Couldn't find Prowl."
Prowl woke to the uncomfortable sensation of something sharp digging into his back. His door wings were bent at an uncomfortable angle, and a throbbing ache made itself present as soon as his processor snapped into gear.
With a groan, a tired black hand was lifted to feel around at his surroundings. Something sharp poked at his servo, and he quickly withdrew, optics powering online as he glanced to the side. Glass was littered around his body, the tiny shards glittering in the light and covering the majority of the gray floor.
He grimaced, back aching as he shifted uncomfortably, the glass beneath him catching his seams and cutting at his energon lines.
He grunted as he forced his stiff body to move, glass lodging itself deeper and scraping at his back as he pulled himself into a sitting position. The second in command shuddered, and shook his back, dislodging some of the glass and listening lazily as it cascaded down onto the ground, echoing around the quiet room.
Prowl glanced up, finally taking in his surroundings. A small office, with only one smashed window, presumably the one he had come through.
With one last grunt, his feet found balance and the rest of his body came with him as he heaved himself up, head thumping in the uncomfortable sensation of a migraine.
A migraine was the least of his worries at this point, and he instead turned to the face the smashed window, shuffling closer to it and peering down below.
His vents hitched a breath at the height.
The ground looked especially tiny from here, and he glanced further, seeing the smoking remains of two shuttles and the damage it had caused.
He took a step back, seeing no fire escape or any means that would help him climb down.
So, he turned to the door of the office instead.
It was barricaded by an old, worn out desk, with miscellaneous items strewn over it, a futile attempt to keep someone out.
Prowl ignored the groaning of the building as he made his way toward it, footsteps as light as possible as he slowly made his way across, servo stretched out to attempt to use the input screen that would open it.
The scanner didn't flash at him, and the door stayed tightly closed.
Plan B then, second in command thought as he wedged his black fingertips in-between the small gap beside the door, and pulled. The metal squealed, but stayed put, and Prowl let go with a huff.
Stuck, in a tiny office, with only a window as his escape, a couple of stories high, and in the most unstable building on Cybertron.
Just his luck.
'Luck has nothing to do with it.' He reminded himself, cerebral circuits scrambling to latch on to logic and push away this unexpected turn of events.