Chapter 50: Amissio
(Latin: loss)
With a shriek, Sideswipe whirled around, bond flared wide open to bare all his anger, frustration, rage and sorrow at his brother, who echoed it back to him, bolstering his hatred.
He charged at Shockwave, so angry he could barely use his hard-earned combat programs, but Sunstreaker shot a bolt of cold rage at him, a plan formulating within astroseconds. Shockwave fired, blasting the front of Sunstreaker and throwing the yellow twin backward, smoke rising from the charred plating.
Sideswipe skated forward to engage the bastard. He sliced the main cannon into a sparking lump, and now they had a slight advantage. If that pulse cannon had hit Sideswipe, it would have blown right through his strongest armour. Sunstreaker, however, could take one hit. Only one. And that was if the plan didn't work.
Sideswipe was fast and had incredible reflexes, honed over millennia of fighting and killing and he was good at it. Never before had it been so personal.
It was like his chest was ripped wide open, but completely whole. All his programming was telling him he was fine and whole, but he knew he wasn't. Alex was gone, and this bastard had taken her.
He hadn't ever wanted to kill someone so much before. Once, when Sunstreaker was in danger of being killed, he'd done much the same. But now.
Now, she was actually dead. He flung himself forward, bouncing off the wall as he felt Sunny move in preparation.
Sides narrowly missed being hit with a laser from Shockwave – it seared a black, charred line into the concrete behind him. Sunstreaker bellowed and blasted two shots at Shockwave in quick succession, one blue bolt hitting Shockwave in the primary optic, the other missing and spattering into the concrete. Dust was thick in the corridor.
He was within range now. With a roar, he swiped his blades across himself, nicking Shockwave's heavily armoured chest. The silver mech took a nanosecond to recover from the hit to his optic, switching his visual fields.
Sunstreaker sent him an analysis, commenting that there was no point in continuing for the chest armour. Sideswipe changed his stroke, although the change cost him an astrosecond. Shockwave capitalized on that fraction of a second, ramming his remaining hand down on to Sideswipe's helm and ripping.
Sideswipe shrieked as error messages raced across his HUD, pain crunching through the delicate sensors on his helm. Sunstreaker yelled, and shot at Shockwave again, dislodging the grip the silver mech had on his twin. Shockwave cursed lowly, nearly indiscernible, and transformed his smoking hand into another pulse cannon.
Sunstreaker swore loudly and creatively, as did Sideswipe. ::This is new intel!:: he threw over the bond to his brother.
Shockwave nailed Sideswipe with the new pulse cannon, and the silver twin was thrown back, denting the concrete. Before Shockwave could make even a single step toward Sideswipe, Sunstreaker was in his face.
"One arm each, I think we're even," he growled. "I'm going to rip your spark out."
He lunged, protecting Sideswipe, who was still coming back online after that hit had knocked his processors silly. Shockwave's optic gleamed.
"I will win," Shockwave stated confidently. His primary optic was back online, as he was watching Sunstreaker with it.
Sunstreaker didn't reply, too busy cataloguing the weaknesses of the mech in front of him. It was a small list – Shockwave was very heavily armoured, had weapons tech that he'd developed himself, and was wickedly intelligent. But Sunstreaker had spent vorns as a ruthless killing machine in the pits of Kaon. He'd fought ones like Shockwave before. And now, once Sideswipe was back up, they'd kill him.
He had to be careful of his missing arm – and that fragging Ferrari had ripped off his stronger pulse cannon, fraggit. They'd done the same to Shockwave.
Sideswipe was just coming online when he tangled with Shockwave, both grappling for a handhold, both using their considerable bulk to shove and push. Paint nanytes scraped off and flared with brief bursts of golden light. Concrete dust ground into the gears in his shoulders as Shockwave got the upper hand and rammed him into the wall.
His motor was running hard, and all his joints were screeching as errors washed through his system. Gears were going to be stripped if he kept trying to muscle Shockwave around – the mech was simply that much larger than him. Sideswipe was still mostly offline, and he was slowly, slowly coming around.
Shockwave had made a mistake. Sunstreaker wanted him close – close meant he couldn't run.
Sunstreaker smashed his fist into Shockwave's primary optical sensor, the red optic shorting out and crackling in a burst of sparks.
Shockwave garbled out some static and Sunstreaker used that second. Shockwave was blinded, and he was going to take him out. Rage washed through his systems, bolstering his every move.
Sunstreaker shoved his hand forward, under Shockwave's jaw and pushed upward. The mech grunted, and Sunstreaker whipped through the transformation sequence, pulse cannon materializing under Shockwave's jaw. Within another astrosecond, he'd fired, and the impact rocked Shockwave backward, a smoking crater where his neck armour used to be. The pulse cannon Sunstreaker had wasn't strong enough to completely take Shockwave's head off – the mech had too much armour for that – but he could damage it enough for – now!
Sideswipe was aware of his part now – he had been faking it for the last twelve astroseconds, and now he was flying off the wall at Shockwave, both blades keen and sharp and aimed precisely. Shockwave didn't have time to react, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were counting on their teamwork.
Sideswipe sliced the mech's helm off, sparks flying into the air. The headless frame crumpled to the ground, head rolling to rest against the opposite wall of the small corridor.
Sideswipe's blades made short work of the different pieces of the frame, shredding them to small bits. Sunstreaker shot the pieces. His spark was still intact, but they'd deal with that.
There was no way that they'd ever let Shockwave even have a chance of coming back, like Megatron had.
The two shared a glance, still aching and hurting and wanting Shockwave to feel that. But they were short on time, and the base was going to blow in… half a breem, or around five human minutes.
::Finish it.:: Sideswipe and Sunstreaker stepped forward, Sunstreaker blasting a few shots from the top of the frame downward, into the shell of the spark and lighting up the internal components, as Sideswipe smashed his blades downward, right into the mech's sparkcase. There was a pop and a flare of blue light, and then the next shot started the mech on fire, flammable energon burning and melting the wires into piles of slag.
They both stood for a moment, watching the burning hull.
::Can't leave it for the humans.::
Both ignored this for a moment, deciding to go get their human first. They'd deal with Shockwave later, before the base blew though.
Sideswipe was sent to go get her, as he had the supplies to take the human. He skated off, dread churning his tanks. He didn't want to see her this way. Battered, broken, and so small. She was so small on that table, barely a fraction of the metal bench, strapped down and violated.
Fury washed over him. Killing Shockwave hadn't helped as much as he wanted it to. She was gone. Sunstreaker echoed this, the yellow twin in the corridor watching Shockwave burn in an energon-fueled pyre. They couldn't leave the bodies here for humans to find – or worse, S7.
Sideswipe had calculated that the fire he'd cause, leading up to an explosion, wouldn't reach one of the rooms that he'd seen in the plans when he was hacking. He sent this information to Sunstreaker, who growled.
::You want to stay here for the entire time the base is burning?::
::No, but Prime'll have our afts if we leave Cybertronian tech for humans to find.::
::Then stop the fire. I'm not staying here for however long your pyromaniac self wants to watch fire.::
There was a pause, and Sunstreaker smacked his twin through the bond. ::You can be really slow.::
::Hey! Just because I didn't think of it...:: Sideswipe trailed off, leaving Alex with a quick glance and taking off down the hall.
::Moron.::
He was racing down the hall, because his explosion timers had a tendency to Wheeljack on him and blow early. Sunny was totally right that he was a moron. This time.
Anger and hatred raced through his systems, fueling him to move faster. He sliced around a corner, finding his little box and ripping it open. He managed to stop the automated countdown and sliced the wires, ensuring it wouldn't go off.
If he'd been somewhere other than Shockwave's lair – legendary scientist, hacker and creepy evil genius – he'd have left it so he could access it internally and get it to blow whenever he wanted, but with Shockwave, that wasn't an option.
::Got it,:: he commented to Sunstreaker, who merely growled. He was still watching the flaming pile of parts. Every once in a while, an explosion of something – that last one had been the fuel pump – would spark out a flare of yellow sparks, flying high into the air and arcing.
::'Bout time,:: he snapped back.
Sideswipe was about to turn around and go back to Alex, when a flicker of white and blue caught his optics.
::That damned coward,:: he spat, and gave chase. Sunstreaker sent his data on the blue and white one at his twin, asking if he needed backup.
A negative was his response, and in response, Sunstreaker sent a warning about that weird engine-stopping thing the mech had. Sideswipe mentally shoved his twin in the stomach.
Sunstreaker smacked him in the head, and then Sideswipe was catching up. The blue and white mech was shrieking and trying to hide – as if he could hide himself around a small shred of a metal door.
Sideswipe rammed a blade through the door, nicking the mech on the shoulder. A shriek escaped the mech and he wailed in pain. Sideswipe burst through the door, seeing the cowering pile of mech in the corner.
This was a newly created mech, made specifically for the purpose of being a weapon. Optimus would want him to spare the mech.
He didn't hesitate. He was no Optimus Prime, soft on those who didn't deserve it and would try to kill him if given half a chance. Sideswipe annihilated the mech, tearing into him with two razor sharp Cybertonium blades, shredding the spark chamber into pieces. With a pop of discharged energy, a yellow glow lit up the corner of the dim room.
The mech slumped into a pile of parts in the corner, red optics dimmed and flickered out.
::Got him,:: he snapped to Sunstreaker, who felt deeply satisfied.
::We're going to need help getting all this out. Can't blow it high enough to destroy everything. And there'll be intel.::
::Communications aren't open.::
::Damn Soundwave.::
They worked through a plan, because both knew that Prime would strip them for leaving all the information here.
::How long?::
::Dunno, could be a while.::
::Frag.::
Sideswipe skated through the rest of the base, finding the three other dead mechs that he and Sunstreaker had killed. How the frag had Shockwave managed to make new sparks? Or were they old sparks, reformatted into crazy?
Neither one knew.
::Babysitting. Perfect,:: Sideswipe groused, and then the first word caught him. Baby. She was gone. Anger and hurt and denial and loss washed through him. Sunstreaker caught that, and echoed the emotions perfectly.
He shoved the feelings away. Wishing and missing never brought anyone back.
They had work to do.
He didn't find that damned crazy black semi, and couldn't find it on the monitors. He could see Sunstreaker, the flaming pile, and the tiny, crumpled, broken form of Alex, but not the semi.
He still wanted to kill something.
-TWO MONTHS LATER-
Jace was unconscious at the computer again. Jolt huffed air through his vents and delicately picked the scrawny human up. He placed the boy on a softer surface, covering him with a quilt – the med bay was too cool for comfort for a human.
Jolt was concerned about the human. He'd sort of…crumpled when he learned his only living family was now dead. Now, he was working himself into exhaustion each day, sometimes staying up for four or five days at a time, sustaining himself on energy drinks, recharging only six hours a day and throwing himself back into work. Even with Jolt stealing the horrid things, he still managed to find more.
Jolt had his suspicions as to how. Ever since Alex… died…things had been different. Not in good ways, either. He was nearly one hundred percent sure that one of the other humans was supplying the last Wells family member with the poisonous, toxic energy drinks that were so bad for humans.
He scanned the thin human and scowled. Jace was starting to appear like his sister – waif-like and shrunken. Black circles looped under his eyes and his very skin was dry and unhealthy.
He turned back to the project that Jace was working on, scanning the contents with a cursory glance. The boy, for being human, was making remarkable progress on his project. It was still the laptop that Jolt monitored. However, over the past two months, he'd added to the setup to make it entirely his own space, dominating a small corner workbench as his own. Jolt had added some metal steps to make it easier for Jace to get to his space. Before, the boy had practically lived in his corner.
Now, he had three monitors, and a freakishly warped keyboard with a personally-cobbled-together motherboard. Jolt couldn't help but think about how inefficient humans were, to need keyboards at all.
Jace's project was focused on tracking down Decepticons – ever since Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had destroyed Shockwave's base in Los Angeles, Jace had been working on this same program. Now, he was getting quite close to having it completed. Considering he was working on it for fifty hours at a time, six hours off, then another fifty on, it was only reasonable to think he was making some serious progress.
This didn't make it healthy.
Ratchet was turning a blind eye to the whole thing, letting Jace do pretty much whatever he wanted in return for not dropping dead. Or something. Jolt wondered if Ratchet was trying to work through his guilt by dissociating with the last Wells family member. Or if he was trying to avoid Jace because sometimes the boy did something so Alex that it tore Jolt's spark apart. Both had the habit of chewing on their lip when thinking something over. Jace tended to chew on his pen, his fingers; Alex had chewed on her lower lip, almost subconsciously.
Jolt missed her, but not like some of the others. He missed her a lot, missing the times she'd wander into the med bay and help him out, chattering to him about silly human things, her most recent troubles with the twins, and being secretly amused at how things were changing between all three.
Now though, it was all over.
Actually, he was due to see them now.
They didn't show, but he was sure they would, eventually. They'd skipped the first session (such as it was), and Optimus Prime had Ironhide and Ratchet drag them in to the next one. And the next one. And finally, nearly a month later, they didn't need to be pulled. Even though they didn't say anything.
Soundwave had eventually lowered the communication ban he'd placed, and eventually, the traffic had managed to move, and normal human activities resumed. It was commented on in the national news, with a massive satellite problem being cited. No one could actually know it was aliens, obviously.
Sideswipe was the first through the door, a sleek red shape sliding into the med bay. His yellow twin followed with a low, rumbling growl.
The red Lamborghini transformed first, gleaming red armour covered with a thin layer of dust. He and his twin had been on guard duty, and the Nevada dust was coating both twins.
"So, you wanted to see us again?" Sideswipe said, voice almost threatening. Hostility was definitely hidden beneath the benign words.
Jolt tipped his head, turning from Jace and facing the two warriors.
"Yes, I did."
"I think it's dumb," Sideswipe scoffed. Jolt faced the now-red twin and shrugged.
"We have to treat this like you two lost a twin. From the data Ratchet pulled from you-" Twin glares. "-she was that close."
Sideswipe traded a glance with Sunstreaker. His feet were still wheels, and he slid back and forth in a considering fashion.
Jolt just watched them. The anger and rage he could still see, seething in both of them, had been only expressed lightly when they ripped Shockwave apart. The ball of anger and sheer hurt was raging like a wildfire.
And apparently, Optimus Prime had decided that Jolt was the closest thing to a psych expert that the 'bots had on earth, and nominated-slash-ordered Jolt to deal with it. It being two homicidal, maniacal twins bent on ripping every 'con's head from their shoulders and slamming massive blades through their sparks.
Ratchet was nursing his own guilt, and the one time he had tried to 'deal with other fragging psych problems when he had enough of his own,' Ratchet and the twins had been two seconds from tearing each other's arms off. Ratchet had been fist deep in Sunstreaker's shoulder and Sideswipe had ended up launching himself across the table to bury a fist in the medic's back.
So now Jolt was the one working on the two of them. Psychologically, and physically. What joy.
He'd done grief counselling before. The war had been going on too long for someone to have not lost anyone. Most of the 'bots, Jolt had known and liked as well.
This was only different in that he had two to talk to at once, one was known for having a thin trigger, and both were essentially bonded to the girl. So major differences from the normal psychology he had to deal with.
Jolt barely knew how to start. He'd known some bondmates to offline from the pain, but this was different. She'd been a part of their processes, but they hadn't started with her, and they were still together.
Every two days, the twins had been ordered by Optimus to go speak to Jolt for half an hour. Each time, they ended up working on something in the med bay for the half hour and then leaving. Neither of them would make any sort of verbal overtures, but from what Ratchet had been able to figure out from forcefully shoving a datachip into each one, was that the bond was completely active again.
Since they had her body (distasteful as it was) Doc had been able to figure out that she was basically an empty hull. All her organs had been shutting down, she'd had minimal red blood cells, and her brain looked like it had been fried. New pathways had been visible to the Cybertronian, clearly blue trails where energon had flowed.
It had been quite the struggle to get her body from the twins, to say nothing of letting Doc check out what happened. Optimus had ended up interceding, stating that it was important to discover what was really going on with Alex. The twins had ended up slumping over and leaving, shooting ice blue glares at Doc, Optimus and Ratchet.
As it was, the twins were now inseparable. They did everything together. Never would Jolt see Sideswipe away from Sunstreaker. This said something about their mental health at the moment, however, it wasn't unexpected.
Sideswipe finally spoke. "You really think this will help?"
He said it in the tone of one who considers the other to be stupid.
Jolt's optics flickered to Sunstreaker, who was near the door, clearly covering Sideswipe's back.
Jolt shrugged. "Not sure."
The red transformer skated forward, plucked up a soldering gun, wiring, solder, and stopped at a half-completed piece of shoulder armour. Sunstreaker came forwards to help him, but Sideswipe poked at him with the wiring.
Sunstreaker glared, pulling out a cloth and swiping it over his arm, the shiny yellow metal gleaming in the fluorescent lighting.
"Good we had this talk," Sideswipe snarked, turning his back on Jolt.
Sideswipe started working, ignoring Jolt. That was fine. He thought the decision by Optimus was dumb as well. As if the twins would be extremely interested in talking to him, of all 'bots.
Sideswipe slid the solder against the wiring, melting globs of metal into the armour. He wasn't as good as Sunny at fixing things, but he was more than adequate. If his armour developed a massive crack in it, he could fix it, but then Sunstreaker would grumble at him, smack his head and take it to really fix it.
He didn't have the patience for the tiny, finicky work. That was Sunstreaker's domain.
Alex hadn't had time to learn how to do anything too detailed. Primus, a quarter of a vorn. It didn't really feel real yet.
Part of why it didn't feel real was because he could always feel Sunstreaker now. When Alex had… gone… it had fixed the bond entirely from whatever Shockwave had done.
His optics narrowed as combat protocols leapt to the surface. They always did when he thought of Shockwave.
Sunstreaker glanced at him, working on cleaning his elbow joint with three different cloths he was pulling out of subspace, and sending a ping across the line.
He sent back a negative, along with a picture of Shockwave.
Sunstreaker's fingers hesitated on his cloth, and hot anger flooded the bond. Both of them were seething again, raging against the dead mech who took everything from them. And yet, their sparks insisted it had been nothing.
::He should have suffered a thousand vorns,:: Sideswipe snarled. His fingers didn't hesitate on the solder gun or armour.
Sunstreaker agreed with a rush of dark hatred, wishing they hadn't torn the mech apart so swiftly, wishing they had brought the mech back, hobbled, blinded and stripped of any communication, to atone for his crimes.
::Prime's too soft,:: Sunstreaker growled.
They both knew what would have happened if they brought the fragger back. Prime would have put him into stasis, to be judged for his crimes once the war was ended. Prime was fair like that. Neither one of them wanted that. Neither of them were fair.
Shockwave deserved to die. And they had obliged him. He wasn't going to experiment on any one else. Arcee had shown her relief and appreciation when they returned to the base, days later.
Her three sets of optics had glowed fierce, brilliant blue, and she'd whispered out loud, "Thank Primus."
Neither Sunstreaker or Sideswipe felt that way. They'd lost something that was precious to them, something irreplaceable and slow-growing.
He missed her. He missed her quiet strength, the absolute trust she had in both of them to keep her safe, the love she had for both of them, the flirting that Sideswipe had done, just to feel that flustered, yet flattered emotion rolling through his spark. Now, the bond insisted it was complete, and nothing was missing. But both knew that was a lie.
He hated Primus at the moment.
Sunstreaker felt the same. If he could have fought Primus himself, he would have. All he wanted was Alex back, in his cab, safe and sound.
And Shockwave had died too quickly. They'd ripped him apart, rage tempering each move to perfection, the fixed bond working more perfectly than it ever had with the human conduit working between them, each move choreographed lightning. Shockwave hadn't stood a chance against their aggressive rage.
They'd ripped his arm off, Sunstreaker handicapped with only one arm, but making full use of the one remaining plasma cannon he had in his subspace. Each shot he blasted at Shockwave was used to perfection by Sideswipe, who ducked and dodged, weaving a complicated path around the mech.
Once Sideswipe had sliced that main plasma cannon's bearings from Shockwave's arm, it was all over. Sideswipe had pounced, managing to get the primary optic stalk ripped off and punched a hole in his helm with his reinforced fingers, ripping some circuitry out before cutting off his head. Sparks had flown, and both twins had grinned, wildly and maniacally but still perfectly in control.
It wouldn't do to lose even one moment to rage, and forget the sheer thrill of ripping Shockwave's primary optic off, or watching his super-powered pulse cannon spark and crunch to the ground. Sunstreaker had taken one shot from that cannon, and his entire front was blackened.
Shockwave's mistake had been focusing on Sunstreaker. His precious, golden experiment had a twin, and that twin was as powerful as he was. One should never discount Sideswipe.
Sunstreaker had been the one to shove a hand through Shockwave's chassis and tear his spark out. He had held the ball of energy in his hand, and with a deep glare, crushed it with a pop and flare of blue. The two had shared a look, like they couldn't believe that had just happened, and heard a small rattle in a different hall.
That's right. Shockwave had lackeys here.
By the time they left, nothing lived in the lab and it was set to blow sky high in three minutes. Sideswipe had Alex's body tucked into his subspace, in a small cocoon of warm air and wrapped in blankets with oxygen around her. He had had a plastic ball large enough to put her in, and had done some quick surgery to the balloon, attaching warm blankets around it, and attaching the oxygen to it.
Just in case.
But it had proved fruitless. Ratchet had proclaimed her dead. The human medics couldn't do anything for her, and had expressed sympathy to her brother.
Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had stormed off to the med bay. Ratchet had attached Sunstreaker's arm, and nearly started a brawl with them. They had relished it, desired the numbness of a fight, desired the clarity and focus a fight would bring them. But Optimus had told them not to, and Ironhide had broken up the fight.
So they fought each other, they shared with each other, they blew the shit out of the training grounds. Always together. Never anyone else.
There was only one they wanted to share with, anyways.
And she wasn't around.
The new alt-mode had come as a surprise to Sideswipe. He'd been fitfully recharging, haunted by phantom touches of small, electrically charged human hands. When he woke, it was to a form more like one he'd known vorns ago.
He just didn't want to remain silver any longer. Every time he looked down at his hands, he'd see Alex sitting on his arm, or resting against his wheel, or sitting on his toe and playing with her miniature energon gun. Shockwave was silver. So he thought he'd change his colouring to red.
Sunstreaker stayed yellow, stayed the same alt mode. But it was more due to his distaste for all other Earthen vehicles and colours.
He liked being red again. And it was different. He was different. Humans had red blood.
Overnight though, through the bond, he'd taken Sunstreaker's specs and adapted them to his form, while keeping his wheels. He liked having wheels for feet; the increased mobility and speed he had without transforming.
He kept the new alt mode because he couldn't be bothered to change it.
The red though, he liked. Alex had been red inside. Blood red and energon blue and cybertronium silver and perfect. Primus, he missed her.
::Do you think we'll see her when we go to the Well?:: She was human. She didn't have a spark, per se, but he thought that if Primus would be cruel enough to saddle her with them and shorten her already short lifespan, he'd at least cut her a break in the afterlife.
But Primus was a dick.
It was an odd human word, but the meaning fit perfectly.
::No,:: Sunstreaker replied blankly, optics assessing the med bay, fingers still cleaning the elbow joint.
He wished she was there with every second of every day. Neither one liked being in the room, and Sunstreaker had slashed black paint over his painting on the wall. Alex had liked it. She was gone.
::I miss her,:: he whispered to Sunny, the agreement rippling through the bond like silk. They both missed her.
She'd been a constant for nearly four years. Now, she was gone like she never existed, never even influenced them at all. But it was like a missing limb. He kept on imagining that if he just turned at the right moment, called her name, had tried just a little harder to get away from Shockwave, he'd have managed to reach her when she was still alive.
The pile of blankets on her table were untouched, still rumpled from the last time she had crawled out of the constricting mess. Sideswipe's processor pulled up the memory of her, rumpled hair and pale skin.
::Really, Sides? Twelve blankets just wasn't enough, huh?::
::'Course not, baby.:: He'd grinned at her exasperated huff, feeling her secret amusement through the ever-present bond.
Her brother had made it out, but he didn't like the boy. She was so much… more. The boy looked like he would give in at the slightest of provocations, and spent all day downing weird human shit and clicking at his portable computer like a possessed creature. He wished that the boy had died instead of Alex. He wished things had been different, that Primus wasn't a huge, sparkless douche and that, for even a second, he could bring her back.
But that didn't matter, because nothing ever stayed good for him or Sunny. They never got to keep anything but each other.
Maybe that was all they deserved. One former pit warrior, one blackmarket merchant now touting themselves as Autobots. But he'd been happy when Alex was around, in ways that now felt hollow. He missed her wry sarcasm, the fact that it took a while for her to warm up to them, how completely devoted and strong she was once she made her mind up, how that mind had been so focused on them and despite knowing their worst sides, had loved them anyways.
His spark ached as he soldered the armour, Sunstreaker watched the door, and Jolt clicked at something, subtly watching both of them.
He just wanted to break things. Sideswipe growled, low in his engine and Sunstreaker echoed it. Jolt glanced at the two of them.
The problem was, he had nothing to break. Other than Decepticons. And since Shockwave had been so brutally taken down, there had been very limited 'con activity. Although Bumblebee had reported seeing two F-22's over Sam's home. Perhaps Megatron had called in some seekers.
They could take down seekers. He wanted to. He wanted to rip all the 'cons apart in horrible, gruesome ways to ease the pain. They all deserved it. He wanted them all to crumble, freeze and lose the glow from their red optics as he crushed their sparks.
And the fact that Bumblebee got to keep his humans, got to keep them from dying in horrible, scientific, brutal ways made him burn with jealousy. All he wanted was Alex. All they wanted was the human who had done everything in her power to help them. And had loved them, for all their faults, their problems, their insecurities and shortcomings.
He sort of hated Bumblebee right now. Every time he saw the scout, he had to stomp down the urge to start a fight. The same thing happened whenever he saw Ironhide interacting with that one human Sunstreaker had modelled his human holoform on. The one with a family.
All he wanted was Alex. And that was the one thing they couldn't have.
His fists clenched around the solder gun tightly, leaving slight divots on the metal. Alex was dead. The littlest member of the bond was gone. It wasn't fair. Primus wasn't fair.
He hated Primus; he was so angry. Sunstreaker rumbled in agreement.
AN: Soooo, yeah. I considered actually writing out some sort of shortened two months thing. And then went, "hell naw." And rolled with this instead.
Fave line: sitting on his toe and playing with her miniature energon gun.
Mainly because of the hilarious mental image. :)
If you noticed that sometimes, you weren't sure if it was Sunstreaker or Sideswipe saying something - that was intentional. :)
Erm, if I didn't answer a review (holy shit there was a ton), I'm really sorry! I did my best, and I'll try to answer them all this time! ...unless it's anonymous, because then I'm sort of out of luck. As are you.
