Holy cow, how time has gotten away from me on this fic. *shakes head* I just wanted to get this slower chapter out of the way, because their reformation into adults is coming up very soon. And with their reformatting will come a whole new slew of adventures!
Faecat- Even though it sounds a little bit gruesome to say this, thank you so much- I'm glad that you like the way I kill people in the gladiatorial rings. This won't be the last violent death you ever see. ^_^ All of the little pieces that have Sunstreaker become the mech he will be in the future are slowly falling into place…
Reaper Mendez- Awww, thanks, that means a lot~ Where I'm taking this is going to be a very dark place, but the lights will only go dark at a very slow pace. There's still light left in the twins' lives before everything goes completely dark…
Yoong- Yeah, the gladiator match was a really intense one. It was surprisingly easy to write, but I can only imagine how hard it was to read… though I suppose I am happy that I got such a strong reaction out of one of my readers. ^_^ Seeing something so violent definitely leaves its mark on people… it leaves its mark on the twins, for sure.
Bluebird Soaring- You were worried about the twins getting out into Kaon and getting hurt? I think in light of what actually happened, them getting loose in the city might have actually been preferable… But you're right, now that Pandora's box has been opened, it's too late to put everything back inside. Sunny and Sides will just have to deal with all the demons they've unleashed, on top of all the demons already following them…
SEZwho94- Heh, that's the whole point of creating this backstory- to show how Sunstreaker and Sideswipe become the mechs they are in the future. =P I'm glad you think everything so far featured in the story is appropriate to their characters. ^_^
Kai-Chan94- Thanks, I'm glad you think the chapter was awesome. Yeah… it's hard not to feel sorry for the twins after what they've been through…
SavvyEnigmaxBanditgal- Don't worry about it, my friend- I have every intention of continuing this story… it will just be really slow going. ^^;
MoonstarWorld- Yep, Sunstreaker's emotionless state is actually supposed to be a prelude to what he becomes. Slowly but surely, he's becoming the monster that lurks in the dark.
Ladyofthedrgns- *sigh* Don't put too much stock in Blindside and Wildride's reactions to the twins' new outlook on life. Parents/creators may be apt on seeing when something is wrong, but they don't always know the cause… and I don't think Sunny or Sides are about to tell anyone what happened. .
Balrog Roike- You're asking all the right kinds of questions, my friend. Sadly, they're the kind of questions that don't always have happy answers… With each thing that might have been done differently, a different future would have resulted. Some of them would have been pleasant futures, and other would have been far worse than what's in store for the twins now… O_o
Daklog73- Oh wow, I'm flattered that you enjoy my portrayal of the twins. ^_^ I really wanted to create a fully-fleshed out story for them that would explain all of their little idiosyncrasies that they have as adult warriors in the Autobot forces.
Shizuka Taiyou- Yep, it was very wrong for anyone their age to watch, but if they hadn't watched it, the seeds of who they are to become never would have been planted… and without them becoming who they become, much more terrible things might happen. O_o
BabyBumblebee17- Thank you so much for reviewing. =)
FunkyFish1991- As always, my dearest friend, your reviews have a way of stunning me so speechless that it takes me a couple of months to finally be able to work up a new chapter and respond to such amazing reviews. XD How do I even accurately sum up my feelings toward your review? There are no words in the English language that describe my awe for you. *huggles you mercilessly* I worked so very hard on the chapter to make it just right for you… actually, I still go back and work on it from time to time. ^^; Just the fact that you say I exceeded your expectations for the chapter makes me want to cry in happiness. I'm so happy that you think my gift for horror and gore can still sweep you away. 8D
Sinead Rivka- Heh, yeah, it was a really intense chapter, wasn't it? Thank you so much for reviewing. ^_^
Femme4prime- Awwww, you're too kind, with all your special flattering words. You're making me all blushey and happy. =P Wow, I really am flattered that you like my portrayal of the twins, as well as my use of OCs and glimpses of other orginal characters. Hearing that there are readers out there who enjoy the writing makes it all worth it. ^_^
Read, Review, & Enjoy! ^_^
Chapter 13
The capitol of Centaurie Tetrax looked so beautiful as it glittered around them, a sea of metal and colourful lights. Even in the greyness of pre-dawn, it was home. The sights and smells and sounds of the beautiful, colourful, familiar city. Coming into the spark of the capitol had been like walking into a warm embrace, where you knew you were protected and loved.
Sunstreaker stared out the window blankly, failing to see beyond the glass. He didn't feel happy to be home. He didn't feel relieved to be away from Kaon. He didn't feel anything at all, actually. The void that had settled inside his spark joors before had yet to release him from its grasp. Images of the gladiators kept replaying in his head.
Next to him, Sideswipe had his back to the window. He rocked back and forth gently, his expression never changing. After having screamed and cried himself into numb silence, he hadn't said a word. He jumped whenever someone looked at him or tried to talk to him. Whenever Sunstreaker reached out to touch his hand, Sideswipe would jerk away.
Without their noticing, the aircraft they were riding zipped its way through the capitol. Neither twin noticed when the transport craft was setting down at their terminal. It took Blindside several tries to get their attention, and when he did, he frowned at their expressions. They were just so… He couldn't describe it. He'd never seen either youngling with such blank expressions on their faceplates. Out of concern, he scanned them. Nothing wrong came up on sensors.
"You two have been awfully quiet this whole trip," he said.
Sideswipe's optics got wide and he trembled, as if the effort to speak would be the undoing that would send him into hysterics again. Sunstreaker tried to say something, he even managed to crack his mouthplates open, but only came up with a dry squeaking sound.
Blindside's faceplate creased even deeper in concern. "Oh dear… Wildride, get in here! Come take a look at these two."
Wildride suddenly appeared at his mate's side, leaning in to get a better look at his wayward creations. "What's wrong?"
"I think they might have picked up a virus," Blindside said. "I'm not picking up anything on my scanners, but they're just acting so strange…"
Sunstreaker stared blankly up at his creators, but their Kaon-inspired dark paint only inspired more visions of death. He slowly looked away. Gritting himself, he forced a couple of simple words out his mouthplates- "We're fine."
"I bet they're just missing Kaon already," Wildride teased, nudging his mate.
Blindside did not look convinced. "Once we get back to the coliseum, I'll make an appointment to see a medic."
"You're worrying over nothing, Blindside," Wildride laughed. He nudged the twins. "Am I right? You two are fine, aren't you?"
The twins peered up at Wildride with a mixture of frustration and helplessness. How could the mech be so blind? How could he not see how awful Kaon was? He'd lived with the Kaon troupe for several vorns, for spark's sake! In all that time, he hadn't noticed that the Kaon troupe's favourite sport was to watch bots be torn apart in a ring?
A tremor passed through Sideswipe's frame as he stared at his creator. Wildride looked too much like Wildrider. Same frame. Same paint. It was too much to look at so soon after what they had just seen in Kaon. True, it had been several joors since they'd witnessed the horrible scene, but forever seemed too soon to face a horror like that. Something cracked in Sideswipe. The numbness was starting to fade and boiling emotion started to rush up.
Sunstreaker jerked straight, sensing the growing storm rising in his twin. He swung around and grabbed Sideswipe's hand, squeezing it as tightly as he could. He forced as much calm as he could into his brother. It didn't really offer any real calm, but it did plug the gaping hole of panic that was opening up. Sideswipe whimpered, leaning to the side to lay his head to Sunstreaker's shoulder.
Blindside and Wildride looked on with curious expressions. They had no idea what was really going on.
Sunstreaker met Blindside's stare, determinedly avoiding Wildride's gaze. "We're just tired, that's all," he croaked. His voice sounded rusty, a bit shaky. "We didn't recharge well after the party…" because we were too busy watching someone die "and it's been a really long flight back home."
Blindside straightened up, not looking completely convinced. "Well, I suppose you two would be tired…" He exchanged an arched look with his sparkmate, who shrugged. With a sigh, Blindside continued, "You'll be able to catch up on your recharge now that we're home."
There came a tapping at the windows opposite of them. Wildride leaned over to exchange a few words with Blaze, who was standing outside with the rest of the troupe.
"We're packed and ready to go," said the pyrotechnic diretor.
"Sounds good to me," replied Wildride. He turned back to his family. "You heard the mech, time to go. You'll be in your berths before you know it."
The twins let themselves be swept along in the movement. They couldn't remember who carried them out of the aircraft, and they didn't know who they rode in to get to the coliseum. The whole trip felt like it took an astrosecond. One moment, they closed their optics, and the next they were opening them at the colourful front doors of their home.
"Ah, it feels so good to be home!" Flashdance exclaimed as he transformed out of his alt mode and gave a good stretch.
The doors flung up and two pastel whizzing blurs came shooting out.
"Finally, you're back!" Skyfly exclaimed, whirling and twirling.
"It's been so lonely and quiet without you!" Clouddrift trilled.
Thrillride held her arms open. "Oh, we'ved missed you, too! It was far too monochrome in Kaon without you!" They flew into her arms and affections were exchanged. Loud, laughing, loving affections.
"Look at all of you," Clouddrift laughed, looking up at all his family. "You look ridiculous!"
Flashdance struck a pose with his lovely dark paintjob. "Are you kidding? Black is very slimming!"
"Too bad it does nothing for your fat ego," Thrillride teased.
Flashdance deflated while everyone else laughed. Except for the twins. They didn't laugh, though no one noticed their lack of humour. They stayed close to each other on the ground, mostly hidden by Flicker's large alt mode.
Wildride leaned into the doorway of the coliseum and looked around inside. The hallway was dark and empty, shadowed even as dawn bloomed over the city. "Everyone still recharging, I take it?"
Skyfly shrugged, flying to Blaze's head to hug him. "Well, yeah, sure. Everyone wants to get as much rest as they possibly can before the show season starts. Flip has been working us to the wires the whole off-season. He's been real agitated, you know? We figured he just missed you guys and was taking it out on us."
Flashdance grinned. "Ha, suckers. You two should have come with us when Wildride invited you."
"We couldn't- you know the other aerials are lost without us," Skyfly sniffed haughtily.
"You just didn't want to go because Kaon's capitol is sunken underground and you're claustrophobic," replied the danced. "You missed out on a great season. I sure am looking forward to watching you guys on stage while we get this season off to relax."
The aerials exchanged arched looks, then regarded Flashdance with twin grins.
"Is that what you think you'll be doing?" Skyfly drawled, looking devilishly amused.
Flashdance's grin faded, suspicion taking its place. "What do you mean?"
Clouddrift settled on the dancer's shoulder, grinning in an evil kind of way. "What Skyfly is trying to say is that Flip has scheduled all of you to work the active season as well. No breaks for you."
"What?" Flashdance exclaimed. "That's three show seasons in a row! That's abuse!"
"That's not fair!" Wildride whined loudly.
Flicker heaved a heavy sigh, sagging. "Why is Flip punishing us? What did we do now?"
The two aerials looked at each other and shrugged.
"How are we supposed to know that?" Clouddrift said. "If you got a problem with it, you gotta take it up with him."
Blaze scrubbed his faceplate tiredly. "Great, alright, we'll take it up with him when we see him. Can we get inside the building now? Standing out here is not improving anyone's mood right now." He started to usher everyone inside. The familiar embrace of the inner hall brought everyone a sense of peace. There was nothing like being home.
Sideswipe looked around morosely, disheartened to find that the magic of his home seemed to have faded. The colours weren't as bright. The smiles weren't as wide. It felt cold and distant to him. He kept seeing energon spattered over everything.
Skyfly zipped ahead of the group like a little pastel bug. "Good luck taking it up with Flip," he sang. "He went off yesterday and hasn't been back since. Flat out disappeared on us."
"Gone?" Blindside wondered worriedly.
"Pulled a Wildride," Clouddrift shrugged. "Just up and left without saying a word to anyone. Kind of rude if you ask me, but you know how he is."
"Oh, that's just great," Flashdance groused, his good mood completely gone. "He's probably hiding so he doesn't have to put up with us complaining to him. That damn old bot!"
"Say it a little louder, Flashdance. I'm sure there are bot still recharging that would love to hear you," Thrillride sighed.
Flashdance was not to be deterred. Three show seasons in a row was murder on a frame. Joints wore out. Sockets got all funny. Don't even get him started on damages to the knees and feet! Chipping! Stress fractures! Deformities and misalignments to the endoskeletons. Really, did Flip want them all to fall apart? He'd be paying for all of their new frames!
The twins exchanged strained looks. Sunstreaker arched an optic ridge. Sideswipe hung his head, his shoulders sagging low.
"We're going to go to our room," Sunstreaker announced for the rest of their family. There was no point standing around with them. They were all so cheerful and normal and unbothered, while the twins were miserable and disturbed. Being around everyone else made the twins hurt worse than they did before.
"Oh, sure, of course. We'll see you later, little ones," Blindside said with a kind smile.
"See you," Sunstreaker mumbled, turning with his brother toward the dormitories. As they retreated, they could hear Skyfly muttering to the others, "What's up with them?"
"They're just tired," Wildride muttered back.
The twins made it to the dorm wing without great incident. It was light enough in the coliseum that they were able to easily skirt around any shadow that looked too dark for their tastes. Passing closed doors, they could hear the rest of their extended family in different states of waking. Some still snored gently while still caught in the peaceful bliss of recharge, while others were up and shuffling about in their rooms. Luckily, no one came into the hall to cross the twins' path. They made it into their room in silence. They laid down on their berth together in silence. Everything was silence between them.
They did not fall into recharge even though they were exhausted.
Sideswipe stared at the ceiling, covered in vorns and vorns worth of graffiti. He'd always loved the graffiti in the room. There always seemed to be more of it whenever he looked. It was a window into the past. But now he just saw a mess of ugly scribbles across the walls and ceiling. He hated how cheerful everything looked. How happy and hopeful and cheeky all the writing was. It didn't seem right anymore to take delight in it.
Unable to look at anything anymore, he rolled onto his side to stare at Sunstreaker. The brown youngling laid on his back, his optics shuttered. It looked like he was recharging, but he was really just lying there pretending to be dead. Sensing Sideswipe's stare, Sunstreaker's optics cracked open. The light that glowed behind the lenses was pale now, the colour of ice. He stared at the ceiling, his gaze dead.
"We'll never be able to tell them," said the brown youngling. His voice was little more than a croaked sound.
Sideswipe dropped his gaze to the berth. "I know." His voice, too, was nothing more than a hoarse whisper.
Sunstreaker sighed, blinking slowly. He cycled his vents, the air rushing out of him coming out like a frigid breeze. "I can't believe we saw someone die…"
Sideswipe shuddered.
"It was so easy," Sunstreaker said, replaying the scene again for the thousandth time. The death of Deadbolt was ingrained in his memory banks. So shortly after witnessing it, and it was already a part of him. "I didn't think it was so easy."
Sideswipe shuttered his optics, curling into a tight little ball.
A pincer rose, and Sunstreaker stared at it with crude fascination, as it his pincer were Flamestrike's hand, and in the palm was a beating spark. "She just ripped his spark out and…"
"Stop! Primus, just muted it already!" Sideswipe snapped, his hands curling over his audio receptors. "I just want to forget!"
Sunstreaker's head fell to the side to watch his brother. The expression in his distant optics grew more pained. He tried to reach out to his brother, but it took him an astrosecond to find the connection. The fact that he had to search at all should have frightened him. As numb as he was, he felt nothing at all. The moment he touched Sideswipe, the red youngling jerked, shuddered, and then finally started crying again.
He cried, and he cried, and he cried.
Perhaps he would never stop crying for as long as lived.
Finally, when dawn had fully risen and most of the troupe was awake and training, save for the newly arrived group who were now blissfully recharging, the twins were able to pass out. There was relief in their unconsciousness. They were given blissful ignorance to the darkness they had just recently learned lived in abundance in their world.
They recharged in a deep, unfathomable state where their minds remained dark and unhaunted by their own terrible memories.
The orn that rose over Centaurie Tetrax's capitol was a bright day with beautiful pink carbon dioxide skies and yellow sulphur clouds. The distant star shone white-pink light that reflected like rainbows off the metal and glass of spires and skyscrapers. The tone of the city was cheerful as commuters were out on the transport ways and zipping along in the skyways, coming and going as they pleased.
Life went on as it always did: impersonal and oblivious as it bustled along at a brisk pace that slowed for no one.
The orn was so at odds with the personal misery of the twins that it seemed almost cruel that it existed at all. It was only a small consolation that the twins' exhaustion kept them ignorant of the pleasant orn. They stayed recharging in their quiet oblivion, peacefully dead to the world.
The bots of Centaurie Tetrax Performance and Exhibition Circuit, the large and loving family of the twins, had no idea of the trauma their precious little twins suffered from. For them, nothing was amiss in their lives. They were up, fuelled, and practicing by mid-morning. Not even Flip's strange disappearance was reason enough to interrupt their vigorous training schedules. With their show season fast coming up, none could afford to be lax.
The only bots not to be practicing were the ones recently arrived from Kaon. Much to their relief, they had the orn to catch up on their recharge. It was the only orn they were going to have to themselves before they were forced to buckle down with double the effort before their third show season in a row begun. They had a lot to catch up on
As with all life that hurries along at its own pace, always self-absorbed and never able to slow down, it is easy to miss when a stranger comes into the midst of friends.
However, it becomes even more difficult to detect such strangers when they are generally believed to be fantasies by the majority of the population.
Two such strangers had come into the Centaurie Tetrax Performance and Exhibition Circuit coliseum that orn.
Upon Cybertron, there were only a few bots whose optics and minds were open enough to see strangers such as these. The twins, whose optics and minds were open because they had never had a chance to be closed in the first place, would have been able to see the strangers with ease. In the twins' current conditions, neither would be happy to see the strangers. One of the creatures could be described as a tall, four-legged centaurian figure. Its faceplate was young and old at the same time, its unfocused gaze staring off into the distance rather than seeing the present. Its armour was comprised of a naturally dark metal whose blackness was incomplete when tiny dots of light glittered from the depths, as if the stars themselves lived within the metal, or else a thousand optics shone from within. Upon the centaur's shoulder was a tiny creature barely half the height of a youngling, its armour seemingly made of black crystal rather than metal. It was peaceful presence with a calm demeanour and a gentle disposition, sitting as delicately as a cloud upon the horizon.
The outline of both their forms was vague, fading into the ether as if they were not completely part of the world they walked in. As they passed through the halls of the coliseum, their sweet scent of long-kept secrets and benign interest in the beings of Cybertron lingered. Their optics were bejewelled beacons of bright amber light.
As they wondered unseen through the corridors of the coliseum, they spoke to each other.
"Tell me, dearest brother, do you really plan to wake Alpha Trion?" wondered the crystal creature, her tone pleasantly curious. The sound of her voice was very much like the tinkling of crystals.
"Yes, I do," replied the centaur. His voice was enchantingly rich, yet his tone was restrained, as if he was just holding on to his temper.
One black diamond finger rose and tapped a delicate chin thoughtfully. "You are an awfully brave Seer, or else you are very foolish. You know how he hates to be woken up. Such a grumpy Engineer he is. He has those silly rules of his..." There came a tinkling laugh like music.
"Oh yes, those silly rules of his: do not wake him unless a Lord Protector is being promoted, a Prime is being inaugurated, or it's the end of the world. With criteria like that, it is a wonder why he bothers to wake up at all," replied the centaur, snorting in distaste. "Luckily, I happen to not care about them. He will be hearing from me as soon as we are done here."
"I would expect nothing less," said the crystal creature.
"You may expect much more," came the curt reply.
Large amber optics blinked slowly, the light in them glittering. "You really are upset over this, aren't you? This whole… situation, as you would put it."
"Extremely so."
That crystal finger continued to tap thoughtfully. "Well, I can't say I'm much happy with it myself. It was such unpleasant business in Kaon, but our hands were tied. You know that. Oh, that Fallen blasted thing!" A diamond hand waved a frustrated gesture in the air. "Kaon is his. There is very little we can do when he holds the majority power of the terriorty. We may have fought him before, but ultimately, it was his move to make in the end and there was very little we could do to stop it."
"Zionaphamaelia… Zion, please, don't spout that slag to me," spat the centaur, his dark armour shuddering. "There was any number of things we could have done to… to make it not so horrible. The twins are absolutely ruined now. Devastated. It was far too soon to expose them to something like that."
Zion's optics dimmed, looking chastised. "No one ever said playing this game was easy."
A shudder passed through the centaur, his temper flaring. "Please do not use the phrase no one in front of me right now. I do not wish to hear of that demon."
"My apologies. I did not mean to be flippant with the remark," came the huffed reply.
Their exchange hung heavy in the air until the centaur shook his head. His temper faded into a repentant melancholy. "I do not need your apologies, dearest Zion. I am the one who should be sorry for taking my frustrations out on you, dear one. I am grateful you agreed to my request to come, and here I thank you with only anger and rudeness."
"Apology accepted, Seer," Zion said.
Seer, for that was the title he had been created with, still looked as if the weight of the universe rested upon him. "I wish I did not have play this game at all. If only I could be like Alpha Trion, blissfully ignorant in sleep. Some orns it is so difficult to accept the courses of action we take."
"Oh Centauron, you sound more mortal every orn," Zion admonished with a touch of playfulness. "You know better than anyone that what we do is for the better in the long run."
Centauron's gaze slid away to stare into the distance, his optics focused yet vague. "For the better? What better, Zion? What we do is for the furthering of our own agendas. We can only hope that our machinations evolve into the desired outcome, no matter the damages we incur in the meantime."
"Collateral damage," Zion sighed, looking to the side. "A necessary evil."
"It is our disregard for the sparks we manipulate that make us little better then our Fallen brother," Centauron replied.
"Now you're taking it too far, Centauron. There is a fine line between what we do and what he does. We never sold our sparks to the Unmaker," Zion snapped. As they were passing a window, the glass pane cracked. But Zion's temper faded as soon as it appeared. She was the Keeper of Peace, and as such she often had a hard time holding on to any volatile emotion. She shook her head and crossed her arms over her crystalline chest. "Can we agree to disagree on this issue? I would much rather not argue with you when I so seldom get to see you."
"Yes, of course…" Centauron bowed his head. It was the same exchange he had with most of his brethren; they tolerated him because he was one of them, but very few understood his affinity for the living sparks of Cybertron. For the others, they were too far removed from normal life to understand what it was like to live, laugh, and love. They only knew their obedience to their sleeping Maker. Centauron was among the living sparks of Cybertron in a far more intimate fashion, and his time with them certainly gave him a different way to see things.
Zion patted him sympathetically on the side of his head.
Knowing Centaurie Tetrax better than any other creature on Cybertron, Centauron led himself into the dormitories of the coliseum and immediately found the door he was looking for. It was locked. The twins must not have wanted company. No matter. Locked doors usually did not deter creatures who didn't use them. Both Centauron and Zion breezed into the room with ease, finding it bright and cheerful with sunlight filtering into the room and setting off all the colourful paint that layered every surface. Then their gazes fell to two dark spots in all the joy. Even in recharge, where they were supposed to have escaped their miseries, it appeared that their misery still clung to them.
Centauron immediately looked away. He could not stand the sight of them as they were. He could see their misery as if it were a physical thing hanging over them, a dark veil that clung to their frames, smothering and suffocating them. And beyond that, he could see the fates that had been set in motion thanks to him and his brethren. He could see flashes of what was to come; possible choices and the fates that would come from each choice made. There were too many shadows to count. It was enough to make Centauron hate himself for what he was.
Zion made the leap between Centauron's shoulder and the low berth far below. She landed with a graceful tap, clicking her way over to the twins. She was so tiny compared to everything in the room, standing at barely half the twins' height. Her crystalline shape caught in the sunlight, making her glitter and flare like black fire.
"I'm raising my price," she suddenly announced as she looked the twins over.
Centauron's amber gaze narrowed. "We agreed on the price of one secret in exchange for easing their torment."
"Yes, but there are two of them," Zion pointed out in a reasonable tone. "I want two secrets in exchange for this, one for each spark."
With a grunt, the Seer nodded his consent: two secrets in exchange for helping the twins. Perhaps if they had been anything other than what they were, two secrets might not have been a steep price. But for them, even a single secret was a steep price to pay. It could mean the admittance of a machination that could be ruined now that someone else knew. Other could manipulate circumstance for their own desired outcome. For himself, he could be asked to tell a secret of what was to come, a possible future that could happen- dangerous knowledge for anyone possess. But the twins were Tetraxian, they were his, so he would pay Zion's price.
With the business portion of their deal done, Zion crouched between the twins and placed a single finger to each of their foreheads. There was no magic involved. She required no fancy lights or spoken words. Peace came best in silence. It took only a moment to do what needed to be done. When she pulled back, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe's faceplates eased and the pall that hung over them faded.
The tension in Centauron slowly eased away.
"I did not take their memories away," said the Keeper of Peace. "They may still remember what happened, but will do so with less torment involved. They will see what happened, but it will be as if it is a memory of a memory. It is not a permanent solution, though. The next trauma they experience may easily undo everything I have done."
"It is good enough for now," Centauron replied, pleased to have brought some temporary relief to such young creatures. They had enough horrors in store for their futures, the didn't need to live through any more in their present.
He called Zion to his palm, where she sat down gracefully. They began to leave, only to sense movement behind them. It was barely a shuffle, a tiny whisper of noise in the silent room. The Seer already knew there would a pair of tiny optics watching them. Without turning around, he inclined his head. "Sideswipe."
"I hate you," said the youngling. His voice was no longer hoarse. It was young and smooth, angry and scared.
The Seer canted his head, glad not to be looking at the youngling so that his expression would not be seen. When he spoke, his voice was as even as always, if not a bit morose. "I can accept that. I hate myself a little bit, too."
Sideswipe's glare could be felt as hotly as a laser beam. "I don't ever want to see you again. I don't want to see any of you things again."
Centauron bowed his head. That was a promise he could not keep. "Please try to recharge, little one. Everything will better when next you wake… I hope."
The next time the twins did wake, things weren't exactly better. But things weren't exactly worse, either.
The beginning of the show season came with a flurry of hectic activity. There was always a thousand little things left to the last minute that had to be done, or else had been forgotten until the most inconvenient time. All hands were on deck as bots raced this way and that, preparing for the show that would start their off season with bang.
Sunstreaker relaxed in one of the seats that circled that main arena, his tablet balanced in front of him on his lap. His gaze strayed to the arena floor where he watched two running bots with their arms full of random things collide head first with each other. They both squealed in surprise, their supplies flying in every direction. Lights and ribbons, streamers and fliers, and an unfortunate can of paint fluttered, flew, and splashed everywhere in a rainbow of chaos. While the two bots dropped to the floor to collect their respective messes, another bot with his arms full came by, and without seeing the two on the floor, he tripped right over them and added his mess to the growing chaos.
Several stuntbots stopped their practice routine to lounge on the equipment and laugh at the scene. Sideswipe was among the lounging bots, laughing right along with them.
Blaze clapped his hands, regaining the distracted attentions of the working stuntbots. In Flip's absence, he was director of the entire circuit. He worked well under pressure, and this certainly wasn't the first time he ever had to work without Flip, but his own absence during the off season worked against him. Lightshow, as third in command of the circuit, helped fill in a lot of the blanks for the new routines. The only difficulty with Blaze being the [temporary] director was that too many bots thought of him as a brother before they thought of him as a director, and therefore were a little more inclined to ignore his orders.
"Alright, alright, you've had your laughs," Blaze called to the lounging bots, motiong for them to get moving. "We have a show to put on, you half-bits. Come on, get a move on. Yes, you too, Sideswipe."
Sunstreaker's gaze flickered to his twin, watching as the red bot pouted for a moment, then heaved a heavy sigh. As the others got back to their practicing, he did as well. Since the red youngling was all done his downloads, Wildride had decided to start his apprenticeship early, even though Sideswipe had yet to reformat. Not that Sideswipe was doing anything extraordinary. He had a few somersaults and a bit of dancing during the show- nothing complicated or dangerous. The way he went on about it, you'd think he was the star of the entire show.
Sunstreaker rolled his optics and drew his attention back to his tablet. He'd left it idle too long and the screen went dark, reflecting back to him his own mirror image. Since the orn he had been created, he had been stuck in his ugly brown frame. Not an orn had passed when he liked his reflection, especially when compared to the beauty he was surrounded by. But now when he saw himself, he saw something that hadn't been there before. It was change that only himself and Sideswipe seemed to see… Or perhaps they were the only ones willing to pay the change any mind.
The change wasn't big. Not drastic at all. His optics had simply changed. Not in size or shape, but in essence. The way they looked out at the world, the way they looked back at himself; they were sharper, more crystalline. Maybe he was exaggerating, or being a washy poet about it, but when he looked into his own optics it was like staring into two chips of ice. The coolness of his stare was something he had yet to get used to. But not just yet. He turned his tablet over so his reflection did not stare back. He glanced out to the arena again, watching his brother.
Sideswipe was not unaffected. He, too, had changed in a less noticeable way. Before, he had been open and carefree, trusting and cheeky. Now he was... different. He was more prone to keeping secrets. He wasn't quieter per se, but not quite as loud as before. Just as it was with Sunstreaker, something now lurked behind Sideswipe's optics that had not been there before.
In the back of their minds, it was always there, haunting them. The blaze of red optics. The flash of striking claws. It was their own terrible secret that they would take to death and beyond. Seeing death had changed them. They thought it had broken them, too. Yet… they stood steady. They had woken up that morning and felt disturbingly at ease with themselves. They recalled the memory perfectly, but where there should have been rage and anger and torment there was only a sick, shallow sense of... peace. A neutral remembrance that failed to summon anything stronger than the vague urge to think of something else. Where there had been fire, there was now ice. Sideswipe had whispered only once, very briefly, that two of the strange bots that lived underground had visited them while they recharged. He was certain that they had done something to them; the mere thought made both twins sick. They had had enough of other things meddling in their lives.
Was it too much to ask to be left alone?
So intent was Sunstreaker on his own internal thoughts that he did not realize that someone was now sitting beside him.
"I wonder…" said the mech, "…what you could be thinking about for you to be wearing such a serious expression?"
Sunstreaker's optics shot wide, his whole frame jerking around. Sitting next to him with the greatest of nonchalance was none other than… "Flip!"
"Sunstreaker." The director inclined his head, his old gaze zeroing in on Sunstreaker's optics. A long finger reached out, curling beneath the youngling's chin and tilting his faceplate up. Upon meeting the old mech's stare, Sunstreaker shuddered. He almost looked away. Staring into those too-deep, too-knowing depths, the youngling was reminded that Flip could see the dead. What if he could see Deadbolt's dead frame reflected in Sunstreaker's optics? Whatever Flip saw, he gave no outward signs of seeing anything at all. His expression did not change. It was the same unreadable expression the director always wore. Before Sunstreaker was forced to look away, Flip turned his own head as if he could not bear to watch Sunstreaker any longer.
Sunstreaker clutched his tablet tightly between his hands, drawing it close to his chassis like a flimsy shield. "W-where have you been, Flip?"
The old director sagged. He looked exhausted. "I've been around." He glanced back at the little youngling. "Your optics… they're different now."
"Yeah, they are," Sunstreaker mumbled, looking away. Of course Flip would be the only bot to notice the change. But luckily, he was also one of the only bots who wouldn't question the change, even though changing optical colours was prohibited for younglings.
Sunstreaker suddenly felt a shiver run through his spark, then he looked up to see Sideswipe frozen in place on the arena floor. His faceplate was unreadable, as well as his spark. Sunstreaker canted his head, reached out to the red sparkling, and felt the rage of a thousand strange and whirling emotions bursting through his brother, pulsating as if Sideswipe could not decide what he was supposed to feel.
As if sensing the youngling's stare, Flip turned to meet it. They stared for what felt like forever, and then Sideswipe shuddered and looked away.
Having initially missed Sunstreaker's shout of surprise upon Flip's arrival, several stuntbots' attention was caught when they realized Sideswipe was no longer performing. When they followed the youngling's gaze to whatever he was staring at, their expressions lit up when they realized their director had returned. The sizeable collection of performers scattered across the arena dropped what they were doing immediately, planning to welcome Flip back properly.
"I'm not here to stay," announced the old mech, halting the procession. "Don't waste your greetings just yet. I'm only here to pick something up and then I'll be gone again."
"But-!" Flashdance began, chomping at the bit to finally be able to have some words with the old mech.
"Save it for another time, Flash," replied Flip, effectively dismissing him.
"You haven't called or anything, Flip. Some of us were getting worried," Blindside intoned.
It appeared to be some effort for the old mech to summon a reassuring smile to his faceplate, but the effort was only seen by Sunstreaker. The rest of the troupe only saw the smile and were eased by it.
"I'm sorry for not contacting you. I did not realize I was worrying anyone," Flip said. "I've been away in places where long distances calls were hard to make. I'll be away a little bit longer, but I should be back before mid-season. Hopefully sooner."
"I definitely hope sooner than later," Wildride sighed.
Flip gave an imperiously wave of his hand, ordering everyone back to their original tasks. He was far more effective in controlling the stuntbots than Blaze, not even needing words to direct them. Blaze sent the director a grateful nod, turning on his heel to return to directing the rest of the troupe on the arena floor. The only one to refuse to return to practise was Sideswipe, who instead approached warily.
"What are you here for, Flip?" Sideswipe asked as he came close, standing at the bottom of the rise of bleacher seats. The youngling's optics were reserved, his expression tight; he had finally settled on a single emotion to feel, which Sunstreaker interpreted as suspicion. It was odd to feel that from Sideswipe, who used to be so trusting. It was also odd because Flip was normally the mech Sideswipe invested his undying loyalty into.
"I'm just here for your frame designs," said the director. "While I was away, I happened to stumble upon an old engineer friend who owed me a favour. He'll be constructing your frames for you, but I mustn't be long getting the designs for him or there'll be no stopping his grousing. He's a rather… temperamental old git."
For a very brief moment, Sideswipe's wariness was broken in order to giggle.
Sunstreaker was already flipping through his files on his tablet in order to retrieve both his and Sideswipe's frame designs. "This is what I have so far," he said, holding out the tablet with the files opened on it. Between meeting Tracks during the last Kaon show and everything that happened later that day, Sunstreaker had only had enough time to choose the optical model he wanted for his frame. Everything else was completed. Sideswipe's chosen frame was exactly the one the rest of the troupe selected him- lithe, flexible, flamboyant, and just enough obnoxiousness for him to fit in with the rest of them.
Flip transferred the files quickly, nodding as he did so. "These are beautiful designs," he commented.
"What's the engineer's designation?" Sunstreaker wondered. Not that he was really going to be picky about something like that, but… well, a bot had to be a little bit discriminating towards the engineer who was going to be building the frame you planned to reformat into. It was a big deal. A big decision. And seeing as the twins were The Twins, some serious credentials were in order. Preferably someone from Alta Trius; that was a good, solid territory known for its fashions and incredible feats of engineering.
Flip canted his head for a moment, as if it were an effort to recall his so-called friend's designation. "I believe he's calling himself A3 as of late."
Sunstreaker crinkled his olfactory sensor. "Never heard of him. Are you sure he's any good?"
A real smile, albeit one layered with so many unsaid things, crept across Flip's tired faceplate, making him look a little less exhausted. His optics glinted under the bright stage lights. "Oh yes, dear spark, he's one of the best."