My sincerest thanks and gratitude to all of my reviewers~ Without your kindness and love flowing, I doubt I would have been able to carry on as strongly as I have. This story certainly would not be the same without you! Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the time, effort, kindness, and love you've all shown to this one lowly writer. Cosmic love and hugs to you all~ ^_^

Queen of the Red Skittles- I'm glad you enjoyed the depth to Simmons' character. I'm completely with you in thinking that he has a lot to say. He's like a spiffed-up version of the Men in Black; you know he's seen things in his life. Sadly, he's such a snarky little twit to everyone that he rarely ever gets to have his proper say in things. ^^;

Dramastar-Mel- Miles is one of those special characters who can surprise you when you least expect it- I love to write for him because he is that crazy, but uncommonly wise. Reminds me of Wheeljack, actually~ =P They both showed their true colours to their friends in the chapter. ^_^ Simmons may be a jerk most of the time, but he's a hardcore jerk. =P

Lady Tecuma- Thanks so much, Tecuma! That really means a lot~ *hugs* You're more than welcome to hug whomever you want in the chapter. I'm pretty sure everyone could use some snuggles.

Balrog Roike- My hopes are currently similar to yours, my friend. I do hope that the Autobots have finally woken up to the true nature of what they've been doing, and in light of that, they'll start to rise above it. It's sad that wake-up calls for so many people always center around a tragedy. . As for your concern of the Twins- there is concern for them on the Autobots' part, as you'll see briefly in the chapter, but you'll also see that there is a reluctance on their part to accept it. It's something they all have to come to terms with and sort out.

Lecidre- Oh my god! I never even thought of that line from Batman Begins! That is such an awesome connection! (Plus, Batman is one of my favourite heroes, so that makes it even better! 8D ) There's a time for everyone to shine, and last chapter was a time for the underdogs to really show their wisdom. No one ever really gives much thought to Wheeljack, Miles, or Simmons as important or wise, but given the chance, they can surprise people. Simmons especially, it seems. =P After everything they've all been through and all the insights brought to light in the chapter, everyone will begin the journey to righting their wrongs and bringing them all back together. =)

Independent C- I'll take your incredulity of Simmons as a compliment~ ^_^ I can't say it was a lot of fun giving depth to his character, but I figured it was about time to give him a reason for being a jerk all this time. He's a secret agent after all, so he's bound to have some sort of shady/tragic past. =( The thing Chromia created from Ironhide's cannons was nothing more than a little light as a symbol of the fact that sum of his parts didn't always have to mean death. ^_^ As for Miles' dig in all this, he really is the outsider looking in. I'm glad you liked him telling off the transformers. =) Even though this story is almost done, his part in the series isn't over; he'll be back if there's a sequel. =)

FunkyFish1991- Okay, before I say anything else about your wonderful reviews, Chromia made a flashlight. A flashlight. *whew* Okay, I got that out. I feel better. XD And might I say, after your wonderful rant on Ironhide from the chapter where he shot Sunny, I'm quite happy to see you have taken to some sympathy with him. Poor mech was due for some, you know? Ratchet too~ Poor things, now blaming themselves for everything. I squeed when you connected the complexity of Ratchet & Wheeljack's relationship to that of Mirage & Hound's. Yet again it's a detail I never saw while writing, but now that I know it's there, I think you're more amazing for seeing it! XD And don't you worry about everyone finally getting second chances! I am working on it right this minute! =D

Flameshield- It's so good to hear from you again! I was worried that something in the writing had turned you off. But wow, you're actually that invested in the writing? My goodness, that's a humbling thought. I hope you continue to enjoy the rest of the story, for however few chapters are left. =)

Chloo- My dear, this chapter is so totally dedicated to you! Thanks so much for the congrats on the two-year anniversary~ *hugs* Without you, I wouldn't have even noticed! XD Your review is too wonderful as well~ As always, your enthusiasm for all the little details and curveballs I throw into the series is part of the reason I continue writing! =P Simmons' part was definitely the pièce de résistance of the chapter. He may be an ass, but he's a wiseass… wait, that didn't come out right… Oh well, you know what I mean. XD

Song lyrics- I don't own Poets of the Fall's Carnival of Rust or Billy Talent's Rusted from the Rain. They're awesome songs that you should listen to, though. ^_^

Events of the Chapter- As an aside to the events of this chapter, some keen readers of WE may want to check out the expansion fic Even Angels Fall. It may or may not enrich your reading experience. ^_^

Cosmic Rust- Oh yes, I went there. G1 all the way! XD

As We Come Together
In Which He Awakens

Sideswipe had to marvel at how he and Sunstreaker seemed to end up in the least expected of places. First they had left their family for Kaon, fighting for all the wrong reasons. From Kaon, they had fallen in line with the Autobots, still fighting for the wrong reasons. And then there was Earth, the last planet any self-respecting Cybertronian would show their faceplates on, yet somehow it was now their home. And now they were here

The Decepticon-Neutrals called it Carnéval.

Sideswipe liked to call it 'Nice Place' out loud, but often referred to it as 'Sweet Primus, Please Don't Let Me Fall Through the Rusty Floors' in his head. Not that he wasn't grateful for their hospitality. He was grateful. Terribly so. But being grateful did nothing to lessen how awkward it was to say 'thanks for fixing up Sunstreaker and letting us stay here while my insane idiot brother and your crazy four-legged junk heap get their heads on straight. Oh, hey, wait, didn't I try to kill you the last time we saw each other?' That sort of thing always tended to remain awkward.

Thankfully, the Decepticon-Neutrals were rather used to awkward moments after all their time together. Worm and Trojan were entirely welcoming in their own ways, which were as generous as they were silent, though they mostly stayed by Virus's side. Soundwave, his symbiotes, and Nightshade merely acknowledged the Autobots' presence whenever they crossed paths, but for the most part continued living life as if the twins weren't there. It was Flamewar and Barricade who made the experience livable. Both of them were past acquaintances from different venues before the war, and while it was still strange to not be trying to kill each other, at least their familiarity made it easier to think friend before enemy. After the laughing fit the twins (mostly Sideswipe) had come under after finding out the two 'Cons were recently bonded, and the swift beating they were dealt (courtesy of Flamewar), the quartet were quite content to be in each others' company.

The base itself, Carnéval, was not what one would expect from such a collection of powerful ex-Decepticons. Upon first seeing the base as it lauded over its cliffside domain, Sideswipe had briefly wondered if they had the right address. Once the initial shock (and mild amused-horror) wore off, the base was actually a pretty fine place to be. The epicentre of it was the Darksyde, looking less like a junk heap and more like vaguely-shaped ship made of junk now that Soundwave had been working on it on-and-off for the last couple of months. Spreading out in all directions from the epicentre were the concentrated efforts of everyone attempting to make a home. The vague idea of a base was slowly taking shape, although you had to squint to see the base through the rust.

Unlike the Autobots, who had had the fortune of the UN's help in procuring resources from the governments of the world, the Decepticon-Neutrals had had to get creative when it came to building materials. Whereas their well-sponsored counterparts had brand-new supplies straight from the manufacturers, the essentials of the coastline base were mostly recycled (and rust-ridden) elements. The majority of it consisted of gutted industrial fishing boats they had collectively managed to steal from dry-dock and haul all the way out to their remote cliff. Since most of their chosen boats were old and retired, the stir they caused with the theft was minimal; the humans of the coastal towns would merely glance to one another with wry smiles and laugh amongst themselves when someone suggested aliens took the boats. One of the most impressive additions to the base was an abandoned luxury yacht Laserbeak had found frozen in the ice off the coast of Greenland. With the combined seismic efforts of Rumble and Frenzy, the ship had been released from its icy trap and the Decepticon-Neutrals claimed it for their own uses. It now sat proudly as the base of their cliff, entrenched in a spider's web of scaffolding, pulleys, and flights of hazardous stairs that connected it to the rest of the base.

The Decepticons had wasted nothing in constructing their base; they had to be the first Cybertronians in the history of their planet to use wood as a constructive material. Any and all trees that had been ripped out to make room for their growing collection of rusty boats were reused in as many ways as possible, from walkways to scaffolding to supports from which to hang their extensive collection of colourful outdoor lights (stolen from houses during the festive winter holidays). Above it all was an assortment of handmade solar panels and huge windmills turning in the gale winds coming off the Atlantic, powering their hodgepodge base.

The look was so eclectic, so eccentric, that the symbiotes often liked to blast music befitting the theme of their base over the Darksyde's speakers. On the music list were songs such as 'Rusted from the Rain', 'Rust in Peace', 'Kingdom of Rust', 'Diamonds and Rust', 'Rust Never Sleeps', and lastly 'Carnival of Rust.'

Carnéval's name had been inspired from the last song.

Its lyrics were currently haunting the icy pre-dawn atmosphere-

"Come feed the rain
'Cause I'm thirsty for your love dancing underneath the skies of lust
Yeah, feed the rain

'Cause without your love my life ain't nothing but this carnival of rust…"

Sideswipe tried not to pay the lyrics much mind. If he found himself drifting into the music, he only managed to creep himself out. It was a damn creepy song and he couldn't help but think whatever human came up with it was a little rattled in their tiny, squishy brain.

For a distraction, he searched for his brother's lonesome form. It wasn't hard to spot him, being the brightest coloured and saddest looking figure in the immediate area. His once-golden armour was now a patchwork, his arms flashing vivid red with donated armour, his repaired foot dull grey with poorly kept temp plating. He was black in patches along his chest from Worm's bent armour. The brown of mud and road-slush spattered his legs. He looked abused and rundown. In place of his usual glacial aloofness was a sense of withdrawn mourning.

"Sunny?" Sideswipe called softly.

At the sound of his designation, Sunstreaker paused in his appraisal of a leafless willow tree to glance over at his brother.

"How're you feeling today?" the red twin asked, offering a weak smile.

"Better than yesterday," he replied with a shrug.

"But not as good as tomorrow?"

"That's the general plan."

Sideswipe nodded. "That's a good plan."

"Better than nothing."

An unspoken invitation rose from Sideswipe, beckoning Sunstreaker to sit with him. Sunstreaker, in turn, accepted in the same unspoken way. He wandered out onto the rickety platform his brother currently sat precariously on. The platform itself was an unstable entity that jutted from the cliff's edge in a way that made anyone a little uncomfortable to look at it. It was supported by a mishmash of crossbeams and haphazard scaffolding that creaked and groaned as hard winds swept in off the water. The whole concoction of wood and metal plunged straight down a couple hundred feet to the cruise liner below.

Once their precarious perch settled with a resigned groan, accepting its new burden, the twins sighed simultaneously. Firstly, they were relieved to be in each others' company, which was quickly reconstituting itself as a very important staple in their everyday lives, and secondly- they sighed in relief to not be plunging to their… well, not their deaths, really- more like a very cold ice bath. Given the current mood, an ice bath would probably only make it worse.

Sunstreaker cautiously leaned to the side and peered down to the gutted ship below, which was roughly the size of the Loki. Looking his fill, he straightened up and looked at his brother. "Your jetpack is working, right?"

"Yep."

"Good."

They sat quietly long enough for Sideswipe to remember that he didn't like being quiet very much. Plus, Sunstreaker felt odd through their bond. Odder than usual. But he didn't want to come right out and say it to his brother's faceplate. Someone had already pointed out that Sunstreaker was odd, which he had taken as a slight against his current appearance, and the end result had been Rumble learning to fly as he was thrown over the side of the cliff. While Sideswipe was safe in the knowledge that Sunstreaker couldn't throw him without a fight, and he had a jetpack to save his aft anyways, he really did wish to avoid the whole scenario if possible. With that in mind, he cast a glance to the side as he twiddled his thumbs in his lap.

"So… how's, uh- Moonfly?"

Sunstreaker grimaced, hunching forward. A frown drew his mouthplates down. "She won't talk to me."

Sideswipe flinched. "Still?"

His brother nodded. "She'll talk at me, but not with me."

"What does she say?"

"Keeps telling me I'm not real," Sunstreaker snorted, tossing his hands in the air. "What's that supposed to mean, anyways? 'I'm not real.' I'm standing right in front of her. My spark resonance is exactly the same as it was back then. How much more real can you get?"

"She was always a little strange," Sideswipe reasoned.

The golden mech cast him a sharp look. "Strange, yes, but she's never been stupid."

The red twin shrugged, at a loss for an answer.

Sunstreaker was not comforted by the silence. He was feeling so many things at once, he wondered how so many bots did it on a regular basis and didn't go crazy. How the pit had he managed himself when he was young? Part of him was still on ice, still numb, while the part of him that was trying to be good again suffered from a chronic ache covering most of his body and a good portion of his conscience. He was also plagued by nausea from eons worth of unfelt guilt coming back to bite him in the aft, and the constant feeling of being two sparkbeats away from exploding. And explode he did, at least verbally.

"I don't know what to think!"

Sideswipe blinked, jerking straight. After a moment of thinking over the sudden exclamation, he asked, "What do you mean?"

"I mean-!" He curled forward like he was in pain, smothering his faceplate in his palms. "I mean… what am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to say to her? That I should have been looking for her? Tried harder? I thought she was dead all this time!"

"To be fair, I'm pretty sure she thought we were dead too."

"Mute it," Sunstreaker growled.

"It's true," Sideswipe asserted with a sniff. When Sunstreaker continued to sulk into the palms of his hands, he cautiously reached out to snake his arm around his brother's shoulders. "I don't think there's any handbook out there that'll tell you how to handle something like this."

"I don't need a handbook," Sunstreaker sighed. "A pamphlet would be nice. I'll take writing in the sky if I can."

Sideswipe glanced back and up, spying Nightshade, Laserbeak, Buzzsaw, and Ratbat collectively de-icing the windmills. "I could arrange a sky-message if you really want one…" He got a shove for his thoughtfulness.

"I want… I don't know what I want. Closure, maybe… I want to at least talk to her, but she keeps ignoring me." Sunstreaker scrubbed his faceplate in frustration. "All I want is to sit in the same room as her without her trying to bite me! Is that too much to ask?"

"Right now? Yeah, maybe… She'll come around eventually," Sideswipe said, though he sounded unsure, a little uncomfortable. "Um… have a little patience, alright? And, uh- get to know her again. You can't just pick up where you left off. That's asking too much."

"You don't think I know that?" Sunstreaker snapped, and then shook his head. "Sorry, I shouldn't be snapping at you…"

"It's okay, bro. I can handle it," Sideswipe assured, squeezing the shoulders his arm was wrapped around.

Sunstreaker leaned a little more heavily against his brother, taking comfort in their shared intimacy. "Part of it is… I know I don't love her anymore. I love the memory of her, sure, but when I look at her now… nothing. I feel sorry for her."

"You did your time mourning, and so did I. It's healthy that we moved on. I'm proud of you, bro." He leaned his head over to brush it against Sunstreaker's affectionately. "If you want to help Moonfly move on, that's great. She needs all the help she can get."

Sunstreaker glared out at the grey ocean. "I don't know what I want to do."

"Give it time," Sideswipe insisted, not that he held out any great hopes for a magical reconciliation. Honestly, he was under the impression that something was going on between Sunny and Prowl, despite Jazz's comeback.

"If someone doesn't end up killing the other first," Sunstreaker murmured dourly.

The red Lamborghini smirked. "You tried to do that already, remember? Didn't work out too well for either of you."

The golden mech pouted. "She started it."

"And Ironhide finished it."

"The fragger." Sunstreaker grimaced, one patchwork hand rising to his reconstructed chest.

"You're the idiot who decided to play hero at the wrong time," Sideswipe countered. "You're lucky you survived a blast like that at point blank range. Damn lucky. If you had died, I would have gone too. You know it's not pretty when you lose the one you're bonded to."

Sunny's ice-coloured optics dimmed for a moment. "Yeah…" He knew too many sparkbonded pairs who had suffered the fate of losing one half and the other fading away. It was a fate that he and Sideswipe feared above all others.

Sideswipe pursed his mouthplates, looking for something lighter to say. He finally said, "Prime and the others have been hailing this place non-stop trying to talk to us."

"I know," Sunstreaker replied flatly.

"No one is talking to them, though," Sideswipe continued. "Pit, I think the hails are even being blocked."

"Serves them right."

"Sure it does," Sideswipe smiled, strangely cheerful. "Unfortunately, we can't hide here forever- not our style. We'll have to go back sometime, kick some aft, remind everyone who's boss."

"Not any time soon," Sunstreaker replied.

Sideswipe paused, and then shrugged. "Alright, not anytime soon, but when we do, we're gonna kick some aft."

"Whatever you say." Although Sunstreaker's faceplate didn't stop frowning, Sideswipe knew he was smirking on the inside.

Below them came the telltale creaking-cracking of several tons worth of metal making its way up the crooked steps from the yacht below. A quick glance over the platform revealed Flamewar and Barricade coming up, both looking refreshed from their brief stint of recharge. They didn't look the least bit concerned as they traipsed their way up, even as planks of wood bowed beneath their feet. Their combined weight tilted the whole structure, sliding Sideswipe and Sunstreaker forward on their platform. Instinctually, the brothers reached for each other and hoped they weren't about to learn how to swim.

Barricade was the first to make it to the top, nodding his greeting to the twins. He waited for his mate to join him, offering his hand to guide her up the last couple of groaning steps, and together they waltzed over to join the Autobots on the rickety platform. Collectively, the four of them were nearly seven tons worth of metal, but still the platform held up, albeit in a quivering, pitiful sort of way. The bonded pair showed no more concern for this detail than they did the stairs.

"How was recharge?" Sideswipe asked, smiling for his hosts-cum-friends.

"Pleasant," Barricade replied blandly.

"Not that we were recharging much," Flamewar laughed. Barricade smirked, tracing the newest of the proud paint gouges marring his front.

Sideswipe snorted, leaning back comfortably. "I don't know how everyone around here puts up with you."

"They conveniently turn off their audios," Barricade said.

"It still gets me that you're bonded," Sunstreaker intoned, leaning forward to address Flamewar. "You are the last bot on Cybertron I ever thought would sparkbond, especially to him." He jerked his chin toward Barricade. "He's an ex-Guardian to a Youth Sector, and you- you're just like me-," monster "-an ex-gladiator with more issues than you can count."

"I don't hold that against her," Barricade chuckled. "I like her issues. I wouldn't change them for the world." He turned to gaze at his mate, who tilted her head, raised an optic ridge, and smirked most contentedly.

It was such a lovely scene that Sideswipe ended up laughing again and Sunstreaker looked away. Barricade was the same mech who used to threaten to throw little sparklings onto shelves too high for them to get off when they were bad. And Flamewar- she was a femme who used to tear mechs four times her size to pieces and not even bat an optic. And yet…

"So long as you two are happy, I guess it shouldn't matter," shrugged the golden twin.

"Very happy," Barricade confirmed. He looked Sunstreaker up and down, noting the distinct lack of improvement in the mech's appearance, and wisely decided not to comment on his looks. Instead, he asked, "Has Virus come out of her lair yet?"

Sunstreaker instantly scowled. "No."

"I see…"

Flamewar snorted harshly. "This is getting ridiculous. Stop tiptoeing around her like she's made of glass. Beat her until it finally sinks in that everything she's lived since Kaon has been a lie. She'll just have to get the frag over it."

"We already beat the slag out of each other; it didn't help much," Sunstreaker growled.

"Obviously you didn't do it right," Flamewar sniffed. "Sometimes I wish I could take a rock and beat some sense into her. She's so damn wrapped around Megatron that she can't see straight!"

"You knew we were alive on Cybertron- we've fought before. Why didn't you tell her?" Sunstreaker asked grimly.

"Because I can't fragging stand her!" The femme made a derisive noise, bristling. "It was none of my business what she thought, even when she was under my command. As soon as she transferred into Special Ops, she was none of my business at all. I said good riddance that orn!"

"You're all spark, Flamewar," Sideswipe intoned wryly.

"Whatever," Flamewar snorted. "Megatron's dead, you're not: what's more to figure out?"

"It's not that simple," Sunstreaker countered sourly.

"Oh yes it is," growled the femme. "Watch me: I bet I can beat it into her." She suddenly pushed to her feet and marched straight for the open hatch of the Darksyde.

"What do you think she's going to do?" Sideswipe wondered as the three mechs turned to watch the departing femme.

"Use a metaphorical rock on Virus's head," Barricade offered vaguely.

Flamewar stopped by a tree to eye the thick lower branches jutting from the trunk. Inspiration came from the song now bleeding like tar out the speakers around Carnéval-

"…C'mon strip me of my power
Beat me with the chains.
And if I'm the King of cowards,
You're the Queen of pain…"

Oh, she was going to be the Queen of Pain alright. Selecting a sturdy branch, she ripped it off and slung it over one shoulder. Spinning sharply on her heel, she swiftly made her way to see one particular four-legged pain in the aft.

"That looks like a very literal tree branch," Sideswipe pointed out.

"It is," replied Barricade.

And suddenly all three mechs were scrambling to run after the femme. She made it into the ship before they did, though her planned assault was impeded by the presence of Trojan and Worm. They had been sitting inside the hatchway watching over the third of their trio while Soundwave worked on her, so when Flamewar came marching through, they hadn't needed to do anything more than reach up, steal her stick, and toss it out again. Sideswipe jumped out of the way just in time before he was whacked on the head by the makeshift club.

Sunstreaker was first up the ramp, forcibly removing Flamewar to the far side of the cargo bay where she could do the least amount of damage. She kicked and hissed, bristling so that her needle-like armour cut into the Autobot's still-healing metal. Barricade shot over and stole the femme away, heedless of the injury he was sustaining to himself. By now, he was immune to it. Sideswipe was quick to catch his twin's hand and drag him away when he caught a cold glint in the berserker's optic- a precursor to something worse.

The commotion drew the attention of the two entities seated in the shadows of the bay. One readily turned with a frown, visor flashing in reprimand.

"If you are here to cause trouble, Flamewar, I suggest you go somewhere else," Soundwave ordered.

"It's a lost cause, Soundwave; give up already!" the femme spat, still writhing against the restraint of her mate. "You can't fix something that doesn't want to be fixed! Stop wasting your time."

"I can hear you," Virus snarled, bristling. "I'm not broken: I don't need to be fixed."

"You can barely stand up!" Flamewar finally managed to smack Barricade away, bringing herself to stand at her full height. The needle-points of her armour trembled. "You are such an ungrateful wretch! We've been doing everything to keep your sorry hide alive and you go do something stupid like get shot by fragging Ironhide! The Autobots are bad enough, but he's the worst one of them all! The very least you could do is look at the damn Twins for all the trouble they've been through! You stupid fragging half-bit!"

There was a long pause in which Virus's optics narrowed, a rolling growl vibrating through her. "I don't want to see them." Turning back into the comfort of her corner, Virus resumed her sulking in the lap of Megatron's corpse like the world's ugliest lapdog.

Soundwave, after a general pause, went back to seeing to Virus's wounds. Unlike Sunstreaker, she was still in a precarious position in regards to her health. There was an abundance of scattered frame parts laying around the Darksyde that were fine to be stripped for Sunstreaker's use, but Virus's quadruped frame made finding appropriate fits difficult. Her internals were the worst off. Sunstreaker, no matter how unintentionally he had meant it, had severely damaged several vital apparatuses when he had collapsed her side.

"Stop being a half-bit glitch!" Flamewar continued to snarl, even more incensed now that she was being ignored. "How many freaks in the universe do you know with spark resonances like them?"

Virus remained silent, burying his faceplate deeper into Megatron's armour.

Soundwave once again sent a severe glare over his shoulder. "If you will not calm down, Trojan and Worm will remove you for me."

"She's a hopeless case. Let her die," Flamewar hissed. Trojan and Worm bristled, but Barricade interceded before they could do anything. He impressed himself into their bond and forced some semblance of calm into his mate, which she accepted sourly.

Sunstreaker flexed his claws, snapping the joints of his fingers back into place. He didn't want to lose his mind in here. Sideswipe still had a hand on his forearm, his grip tightening ever so slightly. When they were both sure nothing was going to happen, they stepped away. Sunstreaker frowned, now looking around the cargo bay for some kind of sign of what to do now. Sideswipe jerked his head in Virus's direction, making little shooing motions for Sunstreaker to go over. Reluctant at first, the golden twin eventually gave in, brushing his hands down his front and straightening up self-consciously. Soundwave helpfully shifted out of the way so that Sunstreaker could come to stand near Virus's head without getting in the way of repairs.

"Moonfly," he intoned.

"Frag off," she growled.

Not the best reply in the world, yet it was something of an improvement over being ignored completely. At least this way she was acknowledging his presence.

"This is getting old, Moofly. Can't you just accept that I'm me?" Sunstreaker asked.

"You're not you- not Sunstreaker, I mean." She wouldn't even look at him. Instead, she kept her faceplate laid against Megatron's chest. "The Autobots bombed Kaon; Sunstreaker and Sideswipe died when everything collapsed. I don't know what you are… well-programmed drones, Autobot spies… ghosts."

"I'm not a ghost. Sides and I got out in time," Sunstreaker said. "Megatron lied to you."

"He didn't."

Sunstreaker leaned down, only a breath away from Virus's faceplate. "Then how can I be standing right in front of you?"

"You're not real."

"The pit I'm not." He took one of her forepaws and placed it against his mangled chest, letting her feel the steady beat of energy beneath. "I know for a fact that there's no spark in the universe like mine-."

"Except mine," Sideswipe coughed in the background.

"-and your loyalty programming only goes so far. It doesn't take away your free will completely. You're smarter than this, Moonfly. You used to be able to bypass that loyalty programming for me all the time. Do it again for old time's sake."

"You're trying to trick me."

"No, I'm not." He growled in frustration, his grip tightening around her claws. "Trust me, I am Sunstreaker."

Virus peeled her faceplate out from the crevice of Megatron's rotting armour, first blinking warily up at Sunstreaker's faceplate, and then staring at the hands that held her forepaw to his chest. Beneath it all was a spark that was warm, its energy painfully familiar. She stared long and hard, fighting a mental battle with herself. Her programmed loyalty for Megatron, the part of her she had embraced the orn Sunstreaker died, raged and tormented her with every moment she lived without her master. Lord Megatron's word was law. His death was The End. Against that came a shrivelled, forgotten self that used to understand that Megatron was only mortal, the part that separated loyalty from obsession, love from blind worship.

A trickle of energon streamed down from her olfactory sensor and from the corner of her right optic. The internal pressure of trying to overcome her core programming was too much stress for her already damaged infrastructure.

"Moonfly!" Sunstreaker dove forward to catch her head as she collapsed.

"I don't understand why he would lie," Virus murmured. "Why bother?"

"Who knows? Not even the best of us could understand someone like him." He cradled the quadruped's head in his arms, staring down at it without feeling the usual burn of repugnance when touching something so ugly. "He probably wanted to set you against the Autobots completely. You can be dangerous when you when you want to be."

She blinked slowly, dragging in a deep draft of air through her intakes. "I would have known if Sunstreaker were alive-."

"I am alive," Sunstreaker insisted, an edge coming into his voice. He lifted her head in order to force her to look at him. "I've got one thing to prove it." In the oppressive silence of the cargo bay, the pneumatic hiss-crack of a chest splitting could be heard.

By this time, the others had managed to creep close enough to see and hear the exchange better. Soundwave managed to keep them at bay, but could not exactly throw them out all together without inciting a riot. Light spilled out from the growing crack in Sunstreaker's chest. Unease stirred the small crowd, many of them turning away out of embarrassment or respect. Sideswipe remained staring, familiar with his seeing the other half of his spark. He was more stunned that his brother would expose himself so readily. Virus was forced to stare, first because her head was trapped in Sunstreaker's grip, and then when his hands fell away she was too mesmerized by the brightness to look away.

"Your spark," she murmured. It was like staring into a miniature sun.

"Yes, my spark." He loomed over her, his features cast into sharp relief by the brightness of his own life force. He was more aggressive than he was more aggressive than he meant to be to make up for the discomfort he was currently being forced to endure. "You were a medic once; you've seen plenty of sparks, including mine. You know what mine looks like."

"…like the sun," she murmured in a gravelly whisper. Her gaze dropped, optics dimming. Realization appeared to be taking root, or else it was shame. She was silent for a long time, unable to look up into the mech's spark or meet his simmering gaze. Leaning to the side, she rested her head against Megatron's chest for strength. In a voice of defeat, more a sigh than anything else, she said, "You really are him, aren't you?"

"I've been trying to tell you that for orns, you half-bit." He braced his hands against Megatron's corpse, leaning over it as if sagging in relief.

Flamewar suddenly spoke up from the background, her hands tightly clamped over her optics. "That's all fine and dandy, but now that we're getting somewhere, can you put that thing away?"

With a grunt, Sunstreaker snapped his sparkcase shut, the rest of his chest following. He grimaced as tender gears grinded against each other. "There, I'm covered. You can all look again."

Several sets of wary optics cracked open slowly.

"All this time…" Virus growled, shaking her head. "I can't believe it."

"Believe it," Sideswipe insisted from the sidelines. "Otherwise you're going to drive us slagging crazy."

"Sideswipe?" Virus intoned unsurely, looking the Lambo up and down.

"The one and only," teased the red mech. "How could you not recognize a spark resonance like mine? I'm amazing."

"You've hardly changed," she murmured wryly. It was hard to tell if she meant that as a good thing or not.

"Why mess with perfection?" Sideswipe chuckled, relieved to finally be getting somewhere.

Virus sat back with a groan, gear grinding, exposed wires sparking. "I've been such a fool."

"We could have told you that," Flamewar growled.

"Hush," Barricade murmured.

"All this time, he lied to me," Virus sighed, bowing her head. The flow of energon streaming from her olfactory sensor and optic thickened, the stream becoming a steady bleed.

"Yeah, he lied." Sunstreaker's gaze slid to Megatron's dead faceplate, feeling both the chronic black rage he had held in reserve for the mech and the long-buried respect and awe he had once felt for the regal being who presided over the Kaon gladiatorial rings. And now he felt disgust for the dead and rotting frame. He wanted to rip it apart. Melt it down. Pulverize it to dust and throw it into a black hole. He resisted the violence, respecting the fact that he was not the one to take the fragger's life and the corpse wasn't his to abuse in death.

"I should have known, but I kept deluding myself." Virus twisted around so she could trace her claws down the side of Megatron's head. Petting him. Caressing him. Her claws trembled. She was still too loyal to cause the corpse harm, though she wished with all her spark to rage and bite and shake the thing to pieces. "I even heard Decepticons talking about you… about a pair of twins. You're the only living pair, but I kept telling myself that it had to be someone else. It couldn't be you. Megatron couldn't be wrong…"

"You were programmed that way. You couldn't help it," Sunstreaker sighed, petting the quadruped's thick neck.

"I am a liability because of it." Now a steady gush of energon came from the corners of both optics and streaming down from her olfactory sensor. A black sludgy substance, like old congealed oil, started to bubble up from her insides and foam at the corners of her mouthplates. She was fighting her programming to the bitter end. "I was just a tool to him," she sighed, flecks of black foam spattering everywhere. Her already-gravelly voice became gurgled and distorted. "My only worth was in my viruses."

"He shared no compassion for any of us," Soundwave said solemnly. "You are not the only one to have been made insignificant under him."

Virus barked a harsh, hateful laugh. "At least the rest of you were under no illusions."

"You are under no illusions now," shrugged the mech. "From the sounds of things, you've finally figured out Megatron is not your master anymore."

"But what purpose do I serve without him?" Virus wondered bitterly.

"Create one. You are a fine mercenary and an excellent viral specialist; you have existed thus far in those roles without Megatron looming over you. What is to stop you from continuing without him?"

"My programming, for one," Virus growled sullenly. "It is not that easy to conjure a purpose from thin air. Can you even say what yours is? You are hardly a communications officer anymore. You have no role here. Why stay at all?"

"My purpose is my own, as are my reasons for staying." Though Soundwave lacked intonation in his voice, it was still clear what he was trying to say; the crew of the Darksyde were a twisted bunch, each with their own set of quirks and problems, but they'd somehow forged a twisted loyalty to each other that none were partial to giving up just yet. They had no better place to go other than to stay with each other.

"I see," Virus murmured on a sigh. Hidden in the foam-flecked noise were the words, "thank you."

Soundwave nodded.

"Do you mind extending your purpose here to do me a favour?" asked the quadruped. "You and I both know there aren't enough parts lying around the Darksyde to repair me, and we can't risk cannibalizing the ship more than we have or it won't fly it anymore."

The mech inclined his head. "What do you propose?"

Virus dared a glance to the side where Sunstreaker still stood. He stared back, looking awkward yet determined. She looked away, unable to handle the sight. "There is a frame in my quarters- it's the one I inhabited before this one. I've maintained it. It's in perfect working order. I want you to reformat me into it."

"You still have that old thing?" Flamewar laughed. "I would have thought you'd have sold it by now."

"Her first frame?" Sideswipe wondered quietly to the femme.

"I guess- that stupid little green thing," Flamewar shrugged, rolling her optics.

The twins shared a glance, their optic ridges arching.

"Are you sure?" Soundwave enquired seriously.

Virus rumbled darkly, hunching. "I have no choice if I want to live."

"Very well." An order was transferred to Rumble and Frenzy to collect the frame.

"While you're at it..." She dragged in a deep draft of air, holding it in, contemplating her next request. She then released the air and said, "I need you to reprogram me so Megatron will no longer be a problem."

For a brief moment, Soundwave looked stunned, though he was quick to school his features. "Remove your loyalty programming?"

"Yes."

He sat a little straighter. "Doing so won't fix you; it will only remove the compulsion, not your feelings for him."

"I don't care," Virus spat, bristling. "For once in my life, I want to be able to be in my head without him in it. Do it before I change my mind!"

"If that is what you wish." He inclined his head again as a stand-in for a proper bow.

"Good." She collapsed into Megatron's lap with something like a sob. "Good."

"It's good that you're doing this. It'll get easier, I swear," Sunstreaker murmured, reaching out to touch her shoulder. His hand was smacked away.

"Don't," she hissed. "Please don't. Not yet."

Trojan and Worm eased forward, gently interceding between them. Virus was suddenly the center of a group hug. They were there for her as they always had been, aware of how hard the decision was for her, and proud that she had been able to make it. She sagged into them, letting them hold her. Sideswipe glided to his brother's side and offered comfort in his own way, snaking an arm around Sunny's narrow waist to support him both physically and emotionally.

"You did good," whispered the red Lamborghini.

Sunstreaker looked away, focusing on the floor. "I guess." He started when a pair of thick black feet came into his line of sight. Looking up, he was surprised to find Worm taking up the majority of his vision. "Can I help you?"

He suddenly found himself being hugged. Disturbed and confused, he patted the hulking mass of metal on the back as he waited to be released. As the one mech peeled away, the other came forward. Before Sunstreaker could escape, he was caught in yet another hug. Their blunt faceplates spoke of their sincere thanks; Sunny had been the one to save Virus and had been the one to finally get her to see past her own programming. As far as they were concerned, Sunstreaker had a spark of gold.

"You're welcome," Sunstreaker said uneasily, now patting Trojan on the arm while trying to lean away at the same time.

Sideswipe stood back and watched the scene, not sure whether he wanted to laugh or join in. He turned to Virus and smirked. "Your friends are great," he said.

Virus shrugged, and then hacked when her vents clogged, spattering Sideswipe's front with black foam and energon. Sideswipe tensed, staring down at the new mess.

"Oh, that's lovely," he groaned.

This seemed to be the right cue for Trojan and Worm to release the increasingly unnerved Sunstreaker and return to Virus's side. They tilted their heads as Virus met their expectant stares.

"You'll have to help me up so I can reach properly," she said. With great care, their hands moved under her forelegs to help her heave her haunches. Placing a foreleg on each of Megatron's shoulders, she balanced there, meeting her master's dead gaze. He was still handsome, even as a cold, dead corpse. She stared into his shadowed optics, searching them, silently saying goodbye. A mesmerizing numbness flooded her aching frame as the emptiness took on hypnotizing depth. As she stared, the abyss stared back.

"You're going to interface with that thing, aren't you?" Flamewar asked warily, her mouthplates curling. "That's disgusting; it's rotted all the way through. The CPU probably isn't even in tact."

Virus did not look away as she answered. "I have to see if everything really was a lie. I want to know for sure." Her interface panel had been ripped off in her fight with Sunstreaker, so all that was needed was to pry the cord out. She did so with ease.

New tension suddenly filled the air. Everyone alive in the cargo bay was instantly battle-ready without even realizing they had activated their battle modes. Instinct readied them, just as it told them there was a predator lurking in the room, unseen and unheard but felt right down to their sparks.

Sunstreaker clenched his fists, seeking his brother through their bond. Though they stood next to each other, they inexplicably felt a millions of miles apart now. Their bond felt as if it had been hollowed out by whatever radiating force was making itself known. Flamewar and Barricade were having the same trouble, marked by how they took each others' hands to assure themselves of each others presence. Soundwave rumbled darkly, seeking his symbiotes.

Sideswipe's hand took Sunstreaker's, squeezing hard. "You feel it, don't you?" Sunstreaker nodded. "What is it?"

"Nothing good." All expression drained from Sunstreaker's faceplate, his optics hollowing out to dead flints of crystal. He went numb from the inside out. Sideswipe felt the change, bristling. Sunstreaker's hand tightened around his brother's. "I'm not doing it on purpose," he growled. Something else was messing with them. He then reached for Virus with his free hand, claws curling around her foreleg, biting into the armour.

"Don't do it," he ordered, finding his voice impossibly cold now.

Virus turned dull optics on him. "If I don't, I'll never know."

She shook away from his hand, continuing with her mission. Beneath her, Megatron's corpse groaned, though it did not sound like shifting metal bowing to her weight. Instead, it was a haunting noise. A hungry noise.

"Moonfly, don't."

"I have to." Enthralled. Hypnotized.

She raised her cable to the corpse's port. Her intakes hitched. No one's vents were cycling anymore. No one dared to move, and if they had even tried, they would have discovered themselves rooted to the spot by inexplicable paralysis. The corpse's empty optics pierced straight into their sparks and rendered them frozen. Numb. The moment Virus's cable hovered over the connecting port stretched on for an eternity. And then the cable was physically jerked out of Virus's grip, only to ram home into Megatron's port.

The reaction was instantaneous.

Electricity suddenly prickled sharply down their collective armour. Their sparks pulsed double-time as the most primal side of themselves became aware that something unseen and huge was now stirring, shifting, waking up. Unseen optics were cracking open, looking down on them all...

Whatever warmth had been lingering in the cargo bay was sucked out, replaced by a depth of black coldness that exceeded even the vacuum of space. The light shining in from dawn turned hollow and grey. The atmosphere turned palpably thick, clinging to their armour like sheets of ice, dead weight dragging them down. Gravity itself became a physical entity concentrating itself around a single epicentre: the corpse.

Before their optics, Megatron's frame twitched.

"No," Virus gasped, trying to jerk away. "This isn't right." Her optics bulged as she realized she no longer had control of her frame. She was caught in the monster's grip. It felt as if the touch of death itself were flooding into her. The metal of her hind legs turned grey as the life was sucked out, necrosis setting in. Paint started to crack, curl, and flake away as her energy was drained away and death crawled up her metal. "No! Let me go!"

Between the slates of Megatron's rotted grey armour, lights began to form. Shifting, oozing. Dark lights. Black lights. The incarnation of pure malevolence- ancient, primal, and filled with palpable malice. All other ambient light appeared to be absorbed into the shifting hues between the armour. Shadows lengthened and came to life.

For the first time in nearly a full human year, Megatron's corpse dragged in a ragged draft of air and cycled its vents. Feet shifted. Hands clenched. Chest expanded. Finally, finally, deep, empty optics flooded with black light. Not alive again, but something worse. A terrible smile curled along those still-cold, still-dead mouthplates.

"YES."

Virus's optics curled back in her head as the last dregs of her energy were drained away. Her whole frame was nearly dead all the way through. Her head fell to one side, lulling on a neck that couldn't support her any more. Blind optics landed on a blur of gold.

"Help," she begged hoarsely.

Whatever spell had held Sunstreaker immobile shattered upon hearing the broken plea. He leapt forward, claws extended, managing to slash through the cable connecting Virus to the awakened corpse. He hissed as he was blinded by an eruption of light sparking from the severance. Megatron's infuriated roar was a noise no mortal could make, drowning out all other noise. Sunny did not even have time to register a spiked arm swinging for him before he was flying into a wall across the cargo bay. Virus's drained carcass came flying after him, driving him deeper into the buckled wall. Worm and Trojan leapt for an attack, only to be thrown away in the same fashion. Their combined weight collapsed the wall, knocking Sunstreaker unconscious.

Flamewar snarled, racing to attack before anymore damage could be done. She leapt for the faceplate and hooked her claws in the top, viciously raking them down and taking everything with her. Congealed energon spattered up her arms and across her faceplate. Another deafening roar followed. A blast of frigid energy erupted from the beast, throwing the femme off. Before she could catch her feet and attack again, she was caged in the monster's claws.

"Flamewar!" Barricade roared, only to be thrown away by a secondary shockwave of energy.

Flamewar twisted on herself, her arm transforming. She aimed to blow whatever was left of Megatron's head off, horrified to find that his faceplate had already repaired itself from her initial attack. Without a second thought, she shot for the head. Three close-range shots decimated it to smoking ashes. Even without a head, the frame kept moving; the grip of the claws around Flamewar tightened, crushing her torso. To her deepening horror, the head began to regenerate. Metal and ash cracked, crunched, jerking upright, twitching and shifting; it was the most unnatural thing she'd ever seen.

Soundwave shot to his feet, bringing his weapon to bear. "Release her!"

Barricade was up again too, flail at the ready.

Megatron's reformed head turned as it heard the charging whine of weaponry. He turned too far, almost 180 degrees around. Not natural. No fear crossed into his burning optics.

"Drop her!" Barricade roared. He didn't dare unleash his flail in such tight quarters where he could accidentally strike his mate.

"Insignificant pests." One hand reached out, wrapping around the burning muzzle of Soundwave's gun. Under his touch, rust erupted across the metal. The barrel buckled. Soundwave jerked away before the necrosis could pass to him. There was nothing by rotted dust moments later.

Frenzy and Rumble burst into the room through the collapsed wall, the frame they had been carrying thrown aside as they prepared for battle.

Soundwave threw his arm out, keeping them at bay. "Don't touch him!" he ordered.

Megatron turned for the exit, Flamewar still hostage in his grasp.

Barricade and Sideswipe snarled, running after the monster. The Saleen was caught by Soundwave and shoved into the floor to prevent him from attacking, but the Lamborghini was too quick and spry to be caught. Dodging around the jet, he made a beeline for Megatron. First he shot out the back of the mech's knees, and then ran up to deliver a smashing blow to the side of Megatron's head. The metal caved under his fist, swallowing his hand up to the wrist. A rolling growl sounded from deep within the rotted frame, and suddenly burning agony shot up his neural circuits. Wrenching his fist away, Sideswipe discovered his fingers already disintegrated to rust, now crawling up his arm.

"Slag! Slag!" he howled, clawing at the appendage as it rotted before his optics.

"Hold it out!" Soundwave demanded. Without thinking, Sideswipe flung the appendage out, only to have it severed by a piece of metal sheeting ripped off from a wall. He screamed as split-second white-hot pain raced through him. Neural circuits unable to shut down fast enough, he passed out instead. His limb fell to the ground, writhing in place for a few moments before it was no more.

Megatron made down the Darksyde's ramp to the ground, turning his gaze skyward. He paid no need to the writhing wretch in his grip as she cursed and spat, continuing to fruitlessly shoot. When the nuisance of her gun became too much, he took it between two fingers so that it became no more. Her efforts doubled as his turbines powered up, kicking and scratching like a wild thing. Dried salt and grime shook loose as his whole frame vibrated. With a powerful leap, he and Flamewar were in the air.

Laserbeak and Buzzsaw gave a screech as Megatron shot past them. Their immediate pursuit was halted as Soundwave's order to STAY AWAY FROM IT rang loud and clear in their heads. Nightshade had not been privy to it, pursuing Megatron nonetheless. She was too well-trained to balk at a moving corpse; whatever the thing was, she had it in her sights. Even as Soundwave verbally ordered her, shouting from the ground, she did not turn back. She would prove herself to her mentor this time.

"Go back, Nightshade!" Flamewar roared, waving her arms. "Don't touch him!"

"Don't worry! I'll stop him!" the femme assured, drawing her rapier. She surpassed him in the sky, turned sharply with the point of her rapier down, and then dived. The combined effort of her downward force and Megatron's upward flight allowed her rapier to pierce through the mech's armour straight into the sparkcase. A killing blow.

"You fool!" Flamewar hissed, kicking furiously in an effort to dislodge the other femme.

Megatron rumbled darkly, staring down at the offending weapon jutting out from the center of his chest. With a grunt, he wrenched it out, Nightshade still holding on fiercely. She struggled against him, trying to free her rapier in order to attack again. She didn't see the rust coming until it touched her hands, and then it was too late.

"Nightshade! Nightshade, no!" Flamewar howled as the other femme screamed.

Unperturbed, Megatron nonetheless paused to watch as the cosmic rust spread. The femme was too far from the ground to be saved by anyone down there. Even as she raced for help, the disease spread. By the time she hit the earth, her spark was extinguished. She was dust.

Soundwave's enraged roar rocked Carnéval.

Megatron turned his gaze skyward once more. From horizon to horizon, sky was alive with the beckoning flames of an ancient ship. A dark smirk curled the mech's mouthplates.

"There you are."