A/N: This was requested by Vixen's-Shadow as slash. Those who don't like it, consider yourselves warned. (It's more like fluff though to be honest.)
In-the-Rain.
The gibbous moon was hidden deep behind the ash sky. Winds were running through the valley in an unceasing rage. No seeker would be misguided enough to even think of raiding on a night like this. Routine patrol duty did not take this into consideration however. Right about now, Jazz and Blaster would be cranking up the sound system for a party or Trailbreaker would be organising a film… anything was better than here. Brawn and the other minibots are probably finishing their training and Tracks and Sunstreaker are no doubt having their 'prettiest mech' competition with each other… heh heh – those girls in Portland sure knew which Corvette they wante-. Lightning stabbed the ground and the resounding thunder thrust Bluestreak from his thoughts. He thought it had been a Decepticon jet.
"Bluestreak to base," the Autobot gunner chattered into his comm-link.
"Prowl here," the other Datsun replied. The channel was unclear. Rain began to gently tap the young Autobot's shoulders and helmet. He had to admit, the warm Autumn rain felt quite relaxing.
"No Decepticon activity to report. There's a storm advancing in your direction though – hope no-one's thinking of taking any late-evening strolls." What a shame I'm stuck on one long 'late-evening stroll'. There was static at the other end of the link and thunder sounded above. "Hmm… must be this valley." The rain on his body became a harder thrumming. Bluestreak made his way over to the valley sides and began to climb the steep scree incline. He was half-way to the top of the slick slope and could see the trees reaching up to the firmament. Not long now.
The left side of his body abruptly sank. Bluestreak gasped and turned his gaze – his foot had fallen through the scree up to his knee-joint. The swift rain torrent had loosened the small rocks and made them unstable. To try to get free, he shifted his weight onto his other foot and pulled. The rocky, watery mess beneath him relented, seizing his other foot and pulling him down. Bluestreak could not escape. To his terror, he sensed his weight was too much: he was sinking into the gravelly, muddy chaos. Inch. By inch. By inch. By the night's end, the shingled bank would have him whole – no-one would be able to find him. He tried his comm-link again; his only answer was white noise. In the winds, in the night, in the valley… he felt so utterly alone. The rain came tumbling down.
A hand stretched out to him. Bluestreak had not realised that someone had come for him.
"Don't you worry now Blue," the familiar voice said, "we'll get you out." Bluestreak reached for the hand with both of his and held onto it like it was an apparition ready to blow away. But it was solid – and strong. Another hand and a pair of arms reached and gripped his shoulders. They pulled. Buried up to the middle of his chassis, his whole frame pulsed with pain. They struggled to take him back – he was the game and the prize between his rescuers and the captivating, ever-melding earth. In one short, sharp motion, he was released. The three Autobots sprawled into the mud. The pain ebbed and settled but his legs were unresponsive.
"Well you sure get yourself into some predicaments, don't you, Blue?" Sunstreaker said aloud.
"Good thing Prowl sent us out here to get you," Sideswipe's charming voice answered. They looked to the gunner in mute shock. Bluestreak trembled. Under the clatter of the furore sky, he was laughing.
"I thought…I thought no-one was going to come for me," Bluestreak said at last. "I thought no-one would bother coming out in this weather and everyone would just wait to see if I came home by myself." He was relieved – relieved to the point where his body surrendered and he fell into Sideswipe's arms. Neither twin had a response. Sunstreaker considered the scratched and muddied legs.
"Ah, Blue," Sunstreaker sighed with despair. "You're all dirty." Bluestreak's legs were numb, but he watched as Sunstreaker gently laid them out in front of him and let the sky wash away the loam. The yellow Autobot carefully rubbed the remaining dirt away and checked for damage. His twin softly cradled the Datsun against his chest and soothingly stroked his chassis and helm. Bluestreak breathed shallowly, his over-heated internal air producing draughts of mist as it touched the cool atmosphere. He had never been so physical with the twins before – or at least, not in an intimate way. He leaned further into Sideswipe's shoulder as Sunstreaker worked his way up to his thighs. The red Lamborghini cupped Bluestreak's face with his hand and began kissing his cheek, his face, his neck, his shoulders… Bluestreak let them do whatever they wanted; he was too weak from it all to care. On such a turbulent night, he had found peace in the quiet, embracing rain.
End.