Chapter 1 :: Credō VII

I believe that you can keep going long after you can't.

Sideswipe was no longer conscious. He had lost too much energon. Riots had broken out around the gladiatorial pits, and, in the resulting confusion, the twins had managed to sneak away. Not without sustaining injury, though. Sideswipe's left leg had been almost completely severed from his frame, and, though Sunstreaker had managed to close off the leaking lines, the red twin had lost a lot of energon.

The yellow twin was not quite as bad off, only having sustained a number of shallow cuts, but he too had lost a lot of his lifeblood. He was struggling forward on almost will alone now.

Get to the Autobots. They can help. Get to the Autobots. It was a mantra that looped endlessly through his processor. The Twins had agreed long before this day that, if they ever got out alive, they would go to the Autobots. The Autobots would help.

As of now, though, it looked like they might not make it. The nearest Autobot outpost was joors away from Kaon when a bot was in alt mode and driving. It was close to an orn away when walking.

Stumbling through rusted, corroded metal, Sunstreaker refrained from thinking any of this. He couldn't afford to give up. His brother's spark rested in his servos. That thought alone gave him a bit more energy. Get to the Autobots. What's that Sides is always telling me? Think positive? I'll make it. We'll make it.

They were gladiators, engineered to withstand pain and to last battle after battle, able to force themselves to keep fighting. They could continue on long after any other mech would have fallen. Sunstreaker used this now, to keep pushing forward, to keep going. His red optics were dull, unfocused, leaving the devastated world around him blurry and indistinct. He was moving on autopilot. One pede in front of the other. Step. Step. Step. One after another. The dull thuds sent shockwaves up his abused frame. Every line and wire ached.

But stopping would hurt more.

Step. Step. Step. Keep going. Get to the Autobots.

Sunstreaker's chrono malfunctioned and shut down. He could only tell the time by the sun wheeling in the sky, then the stars after it set. His vents came ragged and rattly. More than a few fans were broken or jammed. Sparks jumped from exposed wires. Energon dripped slowly from the shallow cuts on his chassis and arms, leaving faintly glowing trails along his yellow armor.

That pink color clashes terribly with my yellow, he thought distractedly, optics flickering briefly. For a moment, he stumbled. He tried to get his balance, but couldn't, and fell to his knees.

There, in the darkness, in the rust and destruction, Sunstreaker almost gave up.

I can't go any further. The thought was almost startling. Energy reserves are at 9%. Every system I have is on the verge of shutting down. I can't go on. It's physically impossible.

Then Sideswipe groaned softly, his fingers twitching against his brother's armor.

But I have to keep going. Slag physical impossibilities. I'm not going to let Sideswipe offline. He deserves better than that. I can't give up. I won't!

With a growl, he heaved himself upward. For a long moment, the Twin swayed drunkenly on his pedes, gyros whirling, telling him the stars were down and the ground was up. Then things settled, and he took a step. Wires spat sparks. Energon stained his armor. Gears ground together.

Another step.

And another.

And another.

One step blurred into another. His energy levels dropped to eight percent, then seven. A fan splintered and ground to a halt.

Another step. A thousand more.

His optics were malfunctioning, now. Lights danced across his vision. A wide wall stood in front of him.

And his audials. Someone shouted something about an intruder. A loud buzzing went off. Sunstreaker fell to his knees. No thoughts crossed his processor. It was shutting down. For a moment, he swayed where he knelt. Then he fell over, body splayed over his brother's, and everything went dark.

Sideswipe onlined his optics to the sight of a scowling face crowned by a gray chevron.

"Welcome back to the land of the functioning."

Sideswipe jerked back, fear written clearly on his faceplates, and looked around. A med bay. Clean surgical tools laid out on a counter. A couple mechs recharging in a few of the other berths. And... his brother, laid neatly on his back, optics offlined, half of his armor missing, an energon drip tapped into his arm. It was wrong. Sunny never slept on his back.

"Hey! Mech! Are you listening to me?"

Sideswipe cowered back into the berth. Medical bays were never good places. Medics didn't ever help him or his brother.

The medic frowned at him thoughtfully for a moment. "I'm not going to hurt you, youngling. You're with the Autobots. My designation is Ratchet."

Autobots. Ratchet.

"What's your designation, and the designation of your friend over there?"

"I... I'm Sideswipe," the red twin answered with a shaky voice, "and that's Sunstreaker."

"Hmph. You know, Sunstreaker over there was almost offline when he made it here. Not sure how he did it, carrying you and with energy levels at barely three percent. Tough little fragger."

"Will he be waking up soon?" Sideswipe asked as he sent a worried pulse across the bond he shared with his brother. Sunstreaker responded, barely. He was there, but that was about it.

"Yes. I've got him mostly repaired. All that's left is putting his armor back on and bringing him out of stasis."

"Would... would it be okay if you took him out now? And if I sat on his berth?"

Ratchet narrowed his optics at the red mech. "Why should I allow that?" He normally wouldn't even consider it, but there was something in this mech's optics that made him ask. Plus, there was their weird spark signatures. Or rather, the fact that there was only one between the two of them. "Are you two bondmates?"

Sideswipe let out a strangled laugh. "Sort of, not quite."

"What kind of answer is that?"

"We're split-spark twins. We're bonded, but we aren't bondmates, per se."

After a silent moment of shock and contemplation, the medic told Sideswipe he could lay with his brother, as long as he didn't damage anything or pull the energon drip out, and, though he would take the yellow twin off of the medically induced stasis, the medic would let him come out of it on his own. Sideswipe promised he would be careful, and wobbled over to his brother's berth. Laying down and curling up next to his brother, he fell quickly into recharge.

Sunstreaker woke up in the night, when the lights were dimmed and Ratchet was probably recharging in his office. Sideswipe woke up next to him.

"Si-ides?"

"Sh, Sunny. We're in the Autobot base. We... you made it."

"I..."

"How did you do it, Sunny?"

Sunstreaker offlined his optics and let his helm settle more comfortably on the berth. "You. I couldn't let you deactivate like that. You deserve better," he said, a minimal amount of static lacing the words, after onlining his optics again.

For a long moment, Sideswipe simply stared at his brother. "You did that... For me?"

"'Course. You're the other half of my spark, Sides. You'd've done the same if our places were switched."

"Of course I would."

"Now let me recharge."

A quiet chuckle emanated from Sideswipe's vocalizer. "Good night, Sunny."

"Don' c'll me tha'..."

"Love you too, bro."

Ratchet smiled from where he was peeking around the door to his office. He knew what Sunstreaker had gone through, to some extent. When there was a reason to keep going, little things like reality couldn't stop you.