Cybertron hung darkly, framed by the window of the observation deck of the moon base. Distant brown crowds hovered over the surface, marks of the acid rainstorms working their way over the silent metal planet.
For eleven years, Sunstreaker had taken his shift at that observation deck, watching the place of his creation from afar. It was a tease, yet stood for a worthless nothing that Sunstreaker couldn't decide if he cared about anymore. The Cybertron before him was not the Cybertron of his youngling vorns. It was cold and empty, and under the control of Decepticons.
It had been a little over two Earth decades since they had come back online from the Ark crash, but it was that time in stasis that had changed Cybertron, and not just for him. The Decepticons, even without Megatron, had taken over. Elita One and Ultra Magnus tried valiantly, but they were no match for Shockwave and his abilities to create waves and waves of drones. And even though the Decepticons had Cybertron, the Autobots knew that Megatron would chance it all for a chance to crush Prime once and for all.
And that's why they were at the moon bases.
Most of them had transferred here, but quite a few stayed to help Ultra Magnus and his soldiers integrate with Earth's cultures. Sideswipe was one of those bots kept on Earth.
Sunstreaker had not had time to say a proper goodbye to his brother when he had left, and he had still been angry. His pride had been wounded, and he knew, somehow, he had been wrong about something. About Prowl, about Sideswipe, something. Either way, he tried to convince himself every day that he didn't care anymore. It was easy to get lost in a hatred for Cybertron and all that had happened, and to blame a nameless planet for the mindless anger and hatred he felt and could find no source for.
The yellow twin flinched, holding up his rifle as a white shuttle passed. Skyfire. He commed command, asking for a confirmation that Skyfire was supposed to be there. The shuttle was dropping off supplies...and Prowl and Ratchet, reporting in to Prime from a diplomatic mission on Earth. Sunstreaker frowned to himself but lowered his rifle as he watched Skyfire land. He had not had to talk to Prowl since he had been transferred, and had only ever saw him from afar.
He liked that, but hated it at the same time.
He hated to admit it, but not being able to talk to his brother was wearing on him. Although Cybertron was right in front of him, his only tie to the life he once had before the war was on Earth.
Sideswipe was why he joined the Autobots. Sideswipe was the reason why he never left the Autobots. He was why Sunstreaker pretended to care. He supposed that as long as Sideswipe was there, the last visage of his life on Cybertron, that it was all worth it.
The lifeless planet leered back at him as if to say that not even Sideswipe could provide that assurance for him. Sideswipe wasn't there. And if he was, it was plain to see that that life, that home, was dead. And the dead do not come back to life.
Sunstreaker allowed his shift to pass, never tearing his gaze from the planet. It was only when he heard someone coming up the corridor to the observation deck that he looked away; it was Prowl, with a datastick in hand.
The yellow twin stood at attention, affixing his gaze to the wall opposite him. He supposed Prowl was just making rounds, although he had never done so before while he had been on shift. He expected Prowl to keep walking, but the SIC stopped at the observation deck. Sunstreaker's fingers tightened on his rifle.
"At ease...soldier."
Sunstreaker's jaw clenched, and he tried to make himself relax, but couldn't. Prowl didn't seem to notice and walked past him to the window where he stared out at Cybertron.
His wings drooped slightly, but otherwise said nothing. Sunstreaker tried to look past his presence, but he was still on duty, couldn't leave, and Prowl was hard to ignore. He resigned himself to watch Prowl as he watched Cybertron. Why was he just standing there? Sunstreaker's optics turned to the datastick in Prowl's hand. He surmised it carried messages, possibly one from Sideswipe.
He never read them, and never replied. It wasn't that he was snubbing his brother. Sideswipe knew he wasn't one for messages. He couldn't read between the lines. He couldn't read them. It wasn't the same.
Sunstreaker was beginning to believe that Prowl would stand there for the remainder of his shift - just a few breems more - when the tactician spoke. "Sometimes, when I come here, I look at Cybertron and have this...feeling that I will never set foot on it again."
Sunstreaker frowned, but didn't reward Prowl with a response. Maybe he couldn't leave his post, and maybe he couldn't tell Prowl off, but he sure as slag could withhold conversation.
"Spike once told me a story that I've been unable to forget. It was a religious story, about a man who freed his people from slavery, only to have them wander in the desert for forty years, unable to find their way to their new home. They were lost, without direction, and unable to rectify their situation no matter what they did." Prowl looked over at Sunstreaker. The yellow twin gave him no response. Prowl turned his optics to Cybertron once more. "Before our...argument, I did not put much merit to the story..."
"If you have a point, Prowl, get to it," Sunstreaker spat.
Prowl's wings drooped a bit more. "The point is, as more time passes, I feel that everything I have done up to this point has somehow been wrong. I've tried to be the best at what I am, trying so hard to be without a flaw, and to advise Prime in the best way against the Decepticons, and yet here I am now, on this moon, while the Decepticons are on Cybertron."
Sunstreaker huffed air from his vents. First Prowl shows up, then he decides to waste his time with some silly pointless chatter...his shift was up in a breem...
"For the first time in my existence, I am fully cognizant of my failures, and for the first time, I have no idea how to rectify them or how to pursue past them."
Prowl turned to Sunstreaker and offered up the datastick. "Sideswipe asked me to personally deliver this to you to ensure you are receiving his messages. He knows you don't read them, but would prefer some sort of response."
"Tell him I'm fine," Sunstreaker said simply. He didn't accept the datastick.
Prowl gave a nod and let his arm fall to his side. "I know you don't want to hear it, Sunstreaker, but I do want to apologize. I know your shift is up but please hear me out. I leave again tomorrow and...I can't go another cycle without saying something."
Sunstreaker cycled air. He didn't want to hear it. It was easier to just...hate Prowl. He wanted to turn and leave. He was not done punishing Prowl emotionally. He wanted someone to suffer for the anger he felt forced to feel.
When Sunstreaker didn't move, Prowl placed his hands on the sill of the window and stared at Cybertron. "You scared me, Sunstreaker, and continue to do so. I don't understand it. But if there was something I did to come between at least a friendship - something that I should not let rank deny me - then I am sorry."
Sunstreaker lowered his rifle. Prowl didn't say anything else, so he figured the SIC was done. "Whatever. Tell Sideswipe I said hello. I'm sure you'll have plenty of chances when you get back."
"You still believe that I would prefer Sideswipe over you."
"Everyone prefers Sideswipe over me. You didn't deny it, Prowl."
"Sunstreaker..." Prowl gripped the windowsill, becoming frustrated. He figured he should just come out with it, with the nagging realization he'd had since his battle computer had been repaired. "You scare me because I want you. Not some sort of silly infatuation or curiosity. And...because I've been in this situation before. I can't repair the damage I had done with them, and I don't particularly care to. But I do not want to continue this way with you." He paused. "But I understand if my apology comes too late." Prowl silenced his vocoder, cursing himself inwardly for talking. It was hard to admit what he felt, and if he knew Sunstreaker's volatile nature, he'd probably be angry because he had been right. Although he wasn't expecting forgiveness, he silently hoped for it. He shook his head. "That was silly."
"You picked a slagging good place to be mushy," Sunstreaker said. He had tried to sound biting, but it came out resigned. Prowl looked up; Sunstreaker motioned with the rifle to a blinking indicator light for a security camera pointed into the observation deck. He couldn't think of anything to say. No one had ever apologized to him for anything before. Quite a few people had expressed wanting him. He did consider himself the most beautiful mech on the Autobot forces. But he knew that Prowl didn't give a slag about shiny finishes. He cycled air. "Look...Prowl...I think..." he paused. He did forgive Prowl. He felt bad for even blaming Prowl for Sideswipe in the first place. But...if he was serious with himself...
"I don't think...we'll work."
Prowl's door wings flinched as he turned from the window. "Don't, please..."
"It won't."
"I don't care."
Sunstreaker shook his head.
Prowl watched Sunstreaker turn down the corridor, leaving him alone on the observation deck.
