Chapter 21: Supplicium
(Latin: punishment)
AN: This chapter is a little short, but that is only because the twins decided to clam up, and the next chapter is focused on Alex, and this would have ended up, like, 12k. Would have been crazy.
Jace clicked at his computer, deliberating whether or not to get up and get a quick snack. Then again, Q always seemed to know when he did things like that. Q was a freak.
He stretched, feeling his back pop and crack in several areas.
Alex was still taken by the aliens – he needed to get her back, but it was slow going. So far, he had no idea where she was. There was no evidence of her online, no little notes that might have come from her.
It was a struggle to keep his hopes up over the months as there was no mention of her, even with all his looking. She was still alive though – there was no way she was dead.
He'd been watching every Lamborghini, but so far hadn't found any that weren't driven by people, or not registered. It might be time to refine his search.
Q swept into the room, fingers wrapped around a white coffee mug, steam rising in a fragrant cloud.
Immediately, Jace flung all thoughts of his sister out of his mind – he'd mentioned her once and Q had acted… oddly. As her big brother, he didn't like it.
He hauled a chair over to Jace, and sat, leaning forwards to inspect the screen.
"Hmm, good, good. The calibration seems to be off here." He pointed with his first two fingers, dragging them along the screen.
Jace leaned forwards, inspecting the code for the mistake. Immediately, he spotted it, noting that it was easily fixed.
"Well spotted," he praised, fingers dancing over the keyboard as he corrected the slight coding error. The smell of rich coffee was in his nose, clogging up his sinuses.
Q sat back.
"I have a mission for you, Jace," he said.
Jace flicked a glance over at the dark haired man. He always wondered if Q was the head of the organization – Sector Seven – or if Q was just a pretentious toady. Really, what boss of a government agency had the time to personally check up on their newest associate and personally hand out missions?
"Follow me." Q stood in one graceful move and strode out of the room. Jace stood, and moved after his boss, wondering why the hell the skinny pale guy had to be so damn dramatic. It wasn't like it changed anything, right?
Just made him look more impressive.
He followed him into his office – a moderately sized room painted a navy blue, with massive oak bookshelves behind him like giant angels watching over Q's shoulders.
There were no windows – made sense, considering the base was underground. Probably explained why Q was so pale too.
Q set the coffee on the desk, and steepled his fingers into an elegant arch.
He waited until Jace was sitting in front of him, fingers tapping out binary codes on to his thigh. His fingers were always moving, always dancing on something. It was a habit.
Q slid a USB across the dark oak desk, flicking it until it slid to a stop, right before the edge of the desk. Jace watched it, not moving to touch it.
"On that USB is all the information we have managed to procure on the location of the NBE's base. I want you to find it."
Jace flicked a glance at the metal, and then back up to Q. Had it really been necessary to drag him away from his computer to tell him to find a freaking alien base? Probably not.
Eh, that was Q for you. Dramatic to the last.
Then his brain kicked in. Alexandra had been with the Lamborghini. The Lamborghini was an alien, and so was most likely at the base. Finding the base would be a huge step in finding his sister.
He played with the USB, before glancing back up at Q.
"Anything else?" he asked, raising one eyebrow.
The pale man smirked, before leaning forwards in his chair.
"Once you find it, come to me personally."
Who else would he tell? Other than his department head. Which, at the head of the head, was Q.
He nodded, standing up and moving towards the door, nearly expecting Q to say something else. But the bastard had already had the last word, so he was satisfied. Or something.
Time to find his sister.
Q sipped his coffee as Jace Wells left his office, staring at the young man's back.
Once Jace had the Autobot base located – and with the information it wouldn't take long – he'd be able to complete the rest of the plan.
He had no hopes that this would wipe out the NBE infestation – they were terribly hard buggers to kill off – but it might hurt them, at least for a while. Which would make it easier for the other group of NBE's to hurt them even more. Hopefully kill some of them.
And once they'd hacked through the USA's missile base, and fired on the NBE's base… well, that would be sweet, wouldn't it? At the very least it would cause some dissent and uproar among the government. Having Jace (even though he didn't know he would be) fire the missiles would lock in the young hacker.
That would trap the hacker in – his fingerprints would be all over it, and he was the one who located the base. Of course, he wouldn't let Jace know that was what the code did unless leverage was needed. Then he couldn't go to the government.
It was probable that the aliens knew that Sector Seven was alive and kicking and just hadn't considered them a great enough threat to try and take that down.
He smirked slightly. Soon, they'd be strong enough that taking down NBEs was child's play.
And once he got Alexandra back, keeping her away from her brother would be easy. Put her in a different base, don't tell the brother. Easy.
It wasn't like the aliens would let her go. The girl might even be dead. Just another reason for Jace to find the base. So they could get the human girl out, and give her brother hope.
Ratchet looked at Optimus for a moment, an unreadable expression on his faceplates, before transmitting all the data he had on what had happened to Alexandra Wells. All the data he had from scans, showing the scarring on her back, more recent than the scars from the energon radiation.
Optimus' spark chilled as he read what one of his warriors, one of the Autobots had knowingly done to another life.
This was unacceptable – and should have been dealt with far earlier.
He'd failed as a leader, failed this human girl. No wonder she was so eager to leave the base. It would not be surprising if she never wanted to come back to the base – and he was of a mind to let her stay.
Perhaps Wheeljack could cook up some energy suppressant bands to shield the AllSpark's energy so that she could remain with her family. Or her family could be brought back to the base, to protect them.
Ratchet commed him. -I know that look, Prime. There's nothing you could have done.-
-But I can offer my apologies and try to correct the wrongdoings done to Alexandra Wells.- He inspected his medical officer and old friend, sharp optics noting the dull look in Ratchet's optics. -You are not to blame for what happened with the Decepticons, old friend.-
He knew that was what Ratchet had been blaming himself over.
Until Alexandra herself told him that she forgave him, he would not let it go.
Ratchet looked at him piercingly. -The twins can be brought out of stasis whenever you're ready, Optimus.-
The leader thought about it for a moment.
-Bring them out of stasis, old friend. This has gone on long enough.-
A quick nod of the black helm, and Ratchet was off, wrench flipping out of subspace with a click, steps stalking down the hallway.
Optimus watched him go, faceplates blank. His optics were dancing, flickering with calculations.
Ratchet checked the backstrut, running a diagnostic swiftly. All the components looked good – until Sideswipe's systems fully integrated the new pieces, he'd be in some discomfort.
Sunstreaker had managed to cause multiple fractures down his chassis, nearly fracturing his spark chamber, the idiot. He'd welded the fractures best he could, but the dozens of hairline fractures took longer, due to the fact that he couldn't just weld them. Sunstreaker's chest armour was a special polymer that took a while to repair with rough nanites. He knew the vain idiot would immediately go out and buff the frag out of the surface too – which would just remove the nanites from the surface and cause it to take even longer to be at optimal strength.
So it was for the idiot's own good that he was keeping them in stasis.
Now they were recovered enough to be taken out – besides, Optimus was here now and they needed to talk to the Prime.
He disconnected the wiring from Sidesiwpe's cortex, taking a moment to make sure it was working properly. The blue optics flared for a moment, and his scans indicated that processor function was coming out of stasis nicely.
Moving over to Sunstreaker, he repeated the process, before subspacing the cords. He had special ones for the twins – their battle coding and firewalls were advanced, and it was difficult to keep them under for long periods of time. The twins were so used to fighting that it was a challenge to keep them down – even in stasis, they were fighting wildly to be brought back online.
He'd had to use a special one for Jazz too – the Special Ops' had had very refined coding, with anti-hacking coding far beyond normal specs.
Making sure the twins didn't have access to their weapons was essential – before he learned to strip their subspace weapons, his med bay had been destroyed quite a few times. Both of the twins were warrior class, which meant that when they onlined, they did so quite violently, battle mode running.
It was one of the reasons he hated putting the fraggers into stasis. And of course they nearly always damaged themselves enough to warrant being offlined for a time.
Taking weapons from Sideswipe was always an adventure, and he knew the little silver slag-head was hiding explosives somewhere in his subspace. Along with other, not-so-legal substances.
Sunstreaker came online first, optics flashing brightly as he clawed for a weapon.
"Easy, Sunstreaker. You're in the Autobot med bay. Sideswipe's here too, almost online, the lazy fragger."
The yellow mech relaxed, minutely. Not many others would have noticed it, but Ratchet was an expert in reading the twins.
Sideswipe came online just then, responding quite the same as his twin, scrabbling for a weapon. His hand blazed as a glowing sword shot out the end of one arm.
"Sunstreaker," he gasped, immediately lunging off the med bay berth and staggering forwards, optics still coming online.
"Relax, idiot," the yellow twin said drily, now standing up, inspecting his chassis.
"Oh, Sunny, I thought you were gone aga- Where's Alex?"
Ratchet looked at the silver twin who swivelled to pierce him with icy blue optics. His processor hummed; the twins' sparks had been apart too long, without all members of the bond being online.
"Where is she, Ratchet?" Sideswipe growled out, optics flashing dangerously. "Is she alright?"
The frontliner still hadn't put his sword away, and was advancing on the medic, flanked by his twin.
"She's fine. She's with her family."
Before the twins could work up any steam, or start threatening to leave and get her back, he started herding them towards the door.
"Optimus Prime needs to speak to both of you, right away," he growled out, advancing on the twins, and poking a digit into Sideswipe's chassis plating.
"Do anything, and I do mean anything to jar that backstrut, and I will weld you to a berth, understand? Now, go. Optimus is waiting for you."
The twins shot a look at each other, and then both moved for the berths where he had stashed their weaponry. It took a berth each – perhaps the amount of weaponry the twins had all the time was a tad excessive. Then again, Ironhide was worse.
Astroseconds later, the berths were stripped clean of weapons, and they had transformed, racing out of the med bay.
Seymour Simmons was tapping his shoe against the ground, over and over, in an extremely irritating manner.
Optimus flicked a glance down at the human. Their liaison had the most peculiar timing ever – one moment, he'd be sitting in his office, filing papers and the next, he'd be right where all the action was, nearly getting stepped on due to his insistence on standing right underneath their pedes.
It was like the man had his brain permanently hardwired to know exactly where the next site of action would be, and once he was there, he never hesitated to raise his voice.
He wouldn't trade him – the small human was surprising good at being the Autobot-Human liaison, after all the issues with Sector Seven and the human governments.
Said liaison was getting jittery.
"Peace, Liaison Simmons, they are on their way."
"How many- It's just Simmons, big guy, just Simmons." The little human raised one hand to his face, rubbing his nose almost violently. Standard behaviour for their twitchy liaison.
Then again, trying to mediate between the Autobots and humans had to be a difficult thing. At least someone was up for it.
"Look, do none of you aliens have a watch? Sundial? Internal clock of some sort?"
The twins raced up, one silver, the other a buttery yellow. As they approached, they transformed.
Simmons marched up to their feet, no fear showing at being in front of the most volatile warriors the Autobots possessed.
"When your commander says to be here at fifteen hundred, you either show up at the right time, or let your liaison know you're going to be late so he can buy you clocks, capiche?"
They ignored him. Optimus's optics flicked to the twin warriors, sadness washing over his optics. They didn't understand.
Ratchet tooled up behind them, and transformed. His optics were murderous, and directly focused on the twins.
"Sideswipe, Sunstreaker. We have much to discuss."
Sideswipe looked slightly confused, and Sunstreaker was impassive, optics blank. Only his arms, crossed over his chassis, belied his tension.
"Is this about the bubbles in the washrack? Because it wasn't m-" The silver twin fell silent when Sunstreaker jabbed him.
Simmons waited outside, as per Optimus' previous (reinforced) request. How he dealt with discipline was his responsibility, not the human liaison's.
Once they were all in his office, Optimus spoke.
"I have spoken to Ratchet about the human Alexandra Wells. He brought up a number of concerns."
Immediately, the posture of both the twins changed. Sideswipe's became more tight and guilty, while Sunstreaker's merely tightened defensively.
"I am aware of all the data Ratchet has from the human. I am here to hear your side of the story."
Optimus looked at Sunstreaker first. "Please tell me how you met Alexandra Wells."
There was a long moment of silence, and for a moment Optimus thought the yellow twin wouldn't answer.
"When I landed on Earth, the human showed up as Sides in my HUD. I tracked it to the location and took it." The gold twin fell silent.
"That does not explain the marks on her back, Sunstreaker," Optimus goaded, letting a bit of steel enter his voice.
"I wanted to find Sideswipe." He flicked a glance at Sideswipe, both pairs of optics glowing a pale blue.
Most likely, he tortured the girl with electricity, scarring her back permanently.
Ratchet was clenching a wrench in his servos, grinding the metal harshly.
"Were you the one to use electricity on the human?"
"Yes." No hesitation at all in the warrior's voice.
He flicked a glance at Sideswipe, noting that the silver twin did not seemed shocked by this at all.
"Sideswipe, did you know of this?"
The silver twin hesitated, and then nodded once. "Yes, I did, Prime."
"What was your thought process in hiding this?"
The silver twin hesitated.
"Speak," Optimus growled out, sounding dangerous. He was disgusted that one of his Autobots could do something so violent and awful to a living creature. And for another one to keep the information to himself was just as despicable.
Ratchet hadn't said anything yet – most likely trying to restrain himself from denting the warrior's helms.
"I have no excuse, Prime." Sideswipe sounded subdued still. "I just… I can't lose him, not again."
Optimus looked at the twins with new eyes, trying to see it from their perspective. It was difficult. She was a sentient person, and even if she wasn't sentient, torturing another for information was not the Autobot way.
"I understand that you wanted to see Sideswipe again. However, I cannot condone your actions towards Alexandra Wells, the both of you."
"Sunny didn't know what he was doing, not completely!" Sideswipe protested. "Sure, I'm a glitch and deserve to be thrown into the scrapheap that I didn't tell on my twin, but it isn't Sunny's fault! Sir," he tacked on.
"Don't call me that," the yellow twin growled out, but was completely talked over by his silver counterpart.
"If we're separated, we'll do anything to get back to each other, anything at all," the silver twin rushed out. "He wouldn't have offlined her – his coding was saying that she was me. And I could no more tell on my twin than I could rip out his backstruts. Sure, Sunny's a glitch, but he's my glitch."
"That does not excuse acting as Decepticons," Optimus said, looking steadily at the smaller warriors.
Both stiffened, Sunstreaker narrowing his optics into thin, pale lines.
Optimus continued. "Just because he would not have offlined the human does not give him the right to torture her. By injuring the human, to further your own agenda, makes us no different than the Decepticons, who care nothing for life."
He flicked a glance to Sideswipe. "I understand your desire to protect your brother, but I cannot condone your actions. By helping him, you placed great injury to Alexandra. We do not harm humans – we must never forget that this is their world, and they may ask us to leave at their leisure. If we show no difference from Decepticons, they have no reason to trust us.
"Both of you have injured Alexandra Wells deeply."
Sideswipe stared back defiantly, but Optimus could see the guilt waiting there. He was more concerned about Sunstreaker. The yellow 'bot might respond the way he wanted, or become extremely bitter.
He sighed. "You have disappointed me, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe." Their optics flickered.
Turning away for a moment, his processor raced, determining if there was another way.
He could not determine one.
"For now, you will both be in the brig for eight orns, both to be placed in isolation, and as soon as Alexandra Wells is present again, you will apologize to her. I will discuss with her what she considers adequate punishement, is that understood?"
Two heads nodded once, a sharp nod from Sunstreaker and a guilty one from Sideswipe.
"Ratchet will also be installing some software to prevent either of you from ever harming another human."
"I expect this to never happen again. If it does, you will no longer be counted among Autobot forces, or deactivated until the end of the war, do I make myself clear?"
The twins looked stricken – Sunstreaker slightly less than Sideswipe. He was affected just the same, he just hid it better.
Ratchet was staring at him, an unreadable look in his optics. Optimus exhaled through his vents, sending a quick comm. to Ironhide. The black Topkick would be the one guarding the brig, if there was anyone in it – which there wasn't, until now.
"If that is all, you may report to the brig. I believe Ironhide has been alerted to your arrival."
Sideswipe nodded, dragging Sunstreaker with him. The yellow mech snapped at his brother for touching his paint, before shooting an unidentifiable glance over his shoulder at the Prime.
Optimus slumped right when they were gone, and it was only Ratchet with him.
"You did the right thing, Optimus," the medic said in Cybertronian, coming to stand right in front of him and placing a servo on his shoulder.
The young Prime let out a gusting exhale. "If we did not need them so badly for the fight here on earth, I would have locked them both in stasis. I fear this punishment to be too lenient."
Ratchet looked at him, and he knew that the CMO agreed.
"What would you suggest, old friend?"
Ratchet sighed, and scrubbed a hand over his faceplates. "Those irresponsible glitches probably should be put in stasis. I can't say what effect that would have on Alex though - she's so tied in to their bond now that it could cause her serious harm."
The medic growled lowly, servo clenching.
There was also the problem that they would need the twins. Megatron's forces here on Earth were just too strong for them to place two such warriors as the twins out until the end of the war. This needed to be dealt with here on Earth.
Sometimes, he wondered why he was the leader.
Optimus flicked his optics back to Ratchet.
"Honestly, I would have done the same as you, Optimus." The medic's optics flickered and darkened slightly. "With some knocks to the helm."
After a moment, the door slid open, and a loud human barged in.
"Oi, tell the idiot two that tramping on humans isn't allowed, huh?!"
"They are aware, Liaison Simmons."
Ratchet growled, and immediately left. He still had issues with the little human, from before, when he was in Sector Seven.
"Punished, huh? Oh, yeah, brig duty qualifies after trying to filet a human," he said, coming to stand on the platform along the side, specifically designed for humans.
"Eavesdropping is not an admirable quality, Liaison Simmons," Optimus said, even though he had known (all the Autobots in the room had) that the male human was listening at the door. There was no real harm to it, so they had continued to speak in English. They'd have to keep the liaison appraised of the situation, so it just made sense to let him hear it first hand, so that he didn't need to view a recording. The man probably would anyway, mainly because he was intensely focused on his job.
The human was waving his arms. "I get it, I get it, I get it. But we can't just dismiss what your wonder-twins have done to a civilian."
Optimus Prime inclined his helm slightly, taking in the human's words.
"I agree, Liaison Simmons. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe will be punished according to our laws."
The little human was standing firm. "The girl they tortured is a civilian of the United States of America – we have rules against zapping people with electricity! Keeping this under wraps could be a logistical nightmare. And they get a slap on the wrist like brig duty?! I hate my job," the little human growled out.
Humans were so entertaining, Optimus thought to himself in a rare moment of humor. So little, and so full of fighting spirit. It warmed his spark to see all of them, living peacefully. He'd do all he could to make sure it remained that way. No matter what it took.
He appreciated the human bringing his spirits up – in these dark times of an Autobot acting as a Decepticon, every scrap of light was needed.
"I understand, Liaiso-"
"No, no, no, no! Just Simmons! Come on, tall 'n dark, say it with me. Si-mm-on-ssss." The human was using his hands to demonstrate, whirling back to the Peterbilt and flailing.
It was too easy to rile the liaison.
"Alexandra Wells will decide their fate. It is only fair, after all the hardship she has gone through."
"Letting their fate rest in her hands? She's a child!"
"Yet she has been as damaged by us as any other. I believe it only fair."
Sideswipe flicked a glance at his twin as they moved down the hallway, processor stinging from Optimus Prime's words.
He opened an internal comm. link, wishing for the bond. Sunstreaker was definitely brooding over something.
-So, got any games on you?- he tried, hoping to pull his brooding twin out of his funk.
-Shut the frag up, Sideswipe,- his twin responded, sounding like he'd already worked up to a full-scale angst session.
The silver twin cycled air through his systems, and then
-I mean, this is the last contact we'll have for a while,- he tried cajolingly.
Sunstreaker was silent.
Sideswipe stopped trying to talk to his twin, instead letting himself think.
Part of him – a part he'd been repressing for orns – was horrified that Sunny had even been able to hurt another member of their bond. For Sunstreaker, it would have felt like he was stabbing himself in the back, through the bond. None in the bond were supposed to be able to cause each other pain.
And yet both of them had managed to fail that common command of coding in a spectacular way.
Guilt flowed through his systems, reaching a crescendo.
-This is all the slaggin' organic's fault,- Sunstreaker finally sent, sounding dark and viciously angry.
Sideswipe faltered. -Sunny…-
-Don't call me that,- he snapped back.
Sideswipe persisted. -She's part of the bond, like it or not, until the Hatchet figures out what's going on. Maybe if you tell him what happened, he can help.-
Sunstreaker snorted. -I told you, I can't activate that memory file.-
-And I know that's a load of slag – you know it was Shockwave. That's a start. Ratchet can work with that.-
-Look, she's important. Primus, without her, we can't feel each other. I can feel my spark aching, Sunny.-
-Is that why you didn't come after me?- The yellow twin spat, whirling on his twin.
-What?-
-Found a nice, squishy organic and didn't need me?-
-Are you even listening to yourself right now?- Sideswipe growled. As if a human (something that barely lived for a vorn, holy Primus!) would replace Sunstreaker… the thought was absurd. Totally and utterly insane.
-You didn't look for me.-
Underneath the cold words, he could hear the hurt, hear the pain from Sunstreaker. His twin was not taking Optimus' words well at all – lashing out was what he did when he didn't know how to cope.
Being told they were no better than miserable, fragging 'cons… it stung, a lot. Considering all the thousands of vorns they'd been fighting for the Autobots, and to be told that…
He knew Sunstreaker still had jagged memory files interrupt his recharge sometimes, about the monster he had been in the rings, way back on Cybertron. To be told he'd degraded back to the mindless, killing machine he was…
His twin didn't like to show any weakness, so he was striking out at Sideswipe, the only one within reach.
-You know that isn't true,- he sent back, sounding patient. He'd been on the Xantium the whole time, racing towards Optimus' signal. Sunstreaker would have gotten the message too – and there had been no way to search for his twin in hyperspace.
Sunstreaker remained silent, before growling lowly.
-You'd take the organic's side?-
Sideswipe blew air through his vents. -Sunny, stop antagonizing me, fragger.-
The Lamborghini's engine growled, "Don't call me that!"
-Or what?- he jeered, knowing where this was going. Sunstreaker needed to work off some nervous energy. Pit, he could do with some stress relief too – fighting it was.
Both warriors launched themselves at each other, ripping at the metal armour coating their protoforms.
Sideswipe and Sunstreaker lashed out at each other, servos tearing at gleaming armour. Sunstreaker crashed into a wall, leaving slight dents in the concrete as the yellow twin growled, optics a pale, icy blue, flickering with the coding racing through his processor.
Sideswipe hadn't transformed his arms to pile-drivers yet, nor shot blades out. Sunstreaker hadn't whipped his blades out either – clearly, they were just roughhousing to blow off steam. They hadn't escalated their battle routines yet, and wouldn't unless tempers escalated.
Which Sideswipe had no intentions of doing. He didn't want to hurt Sunstreaker, he was just so upset about this whole fragging thing.
Alex. She'd had such a slagging bad hand in this whole thing. How had Sunstreaker hurt her when she was showing up as him? He didn't think he could injure anything that his HUD registered as Sunstreaker, even if it was a rock. He'd bring it with him, and find Ratchet. It would probably be a virus, or something like that.
Part of him was hurt too – he'd known that Sunny had hurt Alex, and had deliberately ignored every mention or thought Alex had had of the event, part of his processor not wanting to even contemplate the idea that Sunstreaker could nearly kill something that registered as him.
He knew his twin had no problem harming, or even torturing innocent creatures, but the last time had been ages ago, back in the gladiatorial pits. He'd thought that Sunstreaker's processor had changed enough to not injure the innocent.
The yellow twin smashed a clenched fist into his side, making silver armour clatter and several sensors tighten. A few error messages flashed in his HUD, and he grunted. Swinging back at his counterpart, he dented a rather large portion of armour.
His processor was still whirling on the problem of his twin and Alex – the fighting wasn't intense enough to take his entire amount of RAM to worry about. He suspected that Sunstreaker was thinking too – it was just that he thought best while fighting.
Suuny'd only been gone for four vorns – an infinitesimal second in their lives. But four vorns without Sideswipe had been enough to activate those desperate sub-coding quirks. They were designed to always be together, and if they weren't, the two would do anything to reach one another. He'd just been managing better than Sunstreaker, always the more volatile of the two. Sunny hadn't been able to deal. Not to mention being held by Shockwave. That could do something to any 'bot.
He knew that Sunstreaker didn't want to talk to Ratchet about the possibility of Shockwave – he hated medical processor scans, with a passion. Ratch was slipping if he hadn't done it when Sunstreaker was out for repairs. Or he had, and hadn't discovered any abnormalities. Which was almost more chilling to his processor.
Perhaps Sunstreaker hadn't come as far as he'd thought his twin had.
He was slammed into a wall by Sunstreaker, and felt his engines rev heavily, and then there was a mass of black metal in between them, shoving them back.
"Slag heads, can't stop fighting for two astroseconds," Ironhide rumbled, shoving each of them away.
Sunstreaker's engine revved deeply, and he nearly attacked Ironhide, which would have been stupid.
Sunstreaker was shoved into the cell on the left, and Sideswipe into a different cell. Sunstreaker was snapping at Ironhide about the marks in his paint.
"Knock it off, ya fragging glitches! Can't you two keep it together for more than a breem?"
Both of the twins were silent, each heading for the opposite sides of their cell, plopping down and thinking.
-You scratched my paint, you glitch,- Sunstreaker snarled through the internal comm.
-And it'll stay like that for the next eight orns,- Sideswipe teased, feeling twitchy, edgy and annoyed with his twin. As if he'd ever just desert his twin for an organic creature. Sunstreaker was so insecure. He should know that Sideswipe would never leave his twin, ever.
He switched his comm. off, ready to remain silent for the next eight orns. Or whenever Alex came back.
The silver twin started clicking a pede against the ground restlessly. He needed to do something. Sunstreaker snarled from the next cell over – clearly his twin was feeling it too.
He hated being in solitary. All Cybertronians did. It was one of the worst punishments devised – they needed the contact and communication with others, to keep sane.
At least they hadn't automatically been slapped into stasis. For a moment, he'd thought they were going to do that to Sunny. They'd have to do it to him too - he wasn't sure he could survive till the end of the war without some sort of contact with his twin.
He needed to apologize to Alex. And he'd drag Sunstreaker to do it too, even if the stubborn glitch didn't feel like it. It was the least she deserved.
His pale blue optics flared for a moment, considering escaping the brig and pranking, to get rid of some of the tension in his frame.
Another part of him – the more sensible side – decided that would be something to classify under 'Really Really Fragging Bad Ideas.' Especially since Prime's little chat earlier – not staying in the brig for even a joor would set some sort of record, he was sure. Not a good record, either. Prime would never let him out, ever again.
He sighed, leaning back further. His processor started to whirl about the problem at hand again, guilt washing over him.
He hoped Alex was happy, with her family.
AN: Oh, Simmons, I do hope I haven't slaughtered your character beyond repair. At least in my story, you can keep your pants on. And I'm not sure why OP was teasing him... Perhaps because he wants to drive his blood pressure up? I not sure. OP can't be perfect all the time, right? An' it wasn't even bad teasing, just...trying to lighten the mood, I guess. Weird Prime.
I read one story where Simmons was the liaison, and it was hilarious. If you haven't already, go read Flamedancer33's story 'All In The Job'. It's absolutely amazing, as is her other fic, 'Clementia.' I highly, highly suggest if you want some laughs.
So. Q. Why the hell do you feel the need to have the last word in everything? Seriously, dude. Chill on the egomaniac stuff. Man.
Um… So… the twins sort of got disciplined, finally. Thoughts? Yes, I agree it seems seriously lenient, but I do have some reasoning for this, as outlined... briefly. Probably expound on that more later.