Found On the Sideline
AN: THANK YOU ALL for your kind words and messages for the last chapter. Glad everyone enjoyed it and got to see the softer side of Sunny. ;D Don't tell him I said that.
I don't have plans to continue that chapter as I didn't have inspiration to add any detail. Left that to the reader. Let your imaginations run wild.
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"Come here, sexy!" Sideswipe hooted, grabbing Thundercracker and yanking on a blue wing.
The jet howled and went into a tight spin, hoping to dislodge his passenger, but Sideswipe was latched on tighter than a drowning cat.
"The slag is wrong with you?" the jet yelled, flipping upside down.
"Oh baby!" Sideswipe crooned, wrapping his legs around the jet's fuselage and squeezing in a massive bear hug. "Anyone ever tell you you're adorable upside down?"
The poor jet screamed bloody murder and wobbled his wings. It had the desired effect. Sideswipe lost his hold. Unfortunately his clutching fingers found purchase on blue vents, which caused the jet to scream and thrash more violently.
"Coming, bro," came a thundering voice then a shimmer of purple.
Sideswipe barely groaned when he felt Skywarp attach himself to Sideswipe's back. Like a stuttering teleporter, he zapped the trio in all directions. Sideswipe was conscious of shimmers of purple and then he was upside down, then right side up, then upside down again, then freefall. His tank was seriously starting to churn.
Barrel rolls he could handle. Centrifugal force he could handle. Hopping around like an electric rabbit with no equilibrium was making Sideswipe sick.
"I'm going to hurl," Sideswipe yelled in warning a split second before his breakfast ration came spraying outward. It created a strange polka dot firework display in the sky as Skywarp continued to warp skip.
Thundercracker barked in indignation as a sideways warp made the regurgitated energon leak into his cockpit. Oh, it was going to take HOURS to get the stain and smell out!
"WARP!" Thundercracker yelled, causing his trinemate to halt in his next skip jump. "Enough!"
Being trinemates, they had practiced such maneuvers and being aerial models, they had no aversion to heights or problem with their equilibrium. In fact, they rather enjoyed the chaos in the skies. Skywarp especially. The mech was as unstable as his warp drive and nearly as bad as Sideswipe when it came to pranks.
Skywarp gave a dark chuckle, partially transforming and grasped Sideswipe, who was weakly hanging on, dried energon crusting around his mouth.
"Let's go visit some friends, shall we?" Skywarp laughed, disappearing in a shimmer of purple.
Thundercrackers rage echoed in the heavens as Sideswipe's energon sloshed into his cockpit and puddle on the floor.
Sideswipe didn't hear the jet's colorful descriptions of his parentage. He was too busy trying to keep his circuits from being scrambled as the loony purple jet teleported him right into the midst of the Stunticons.
Thankfully the Stunticons weren't the smartest, nor the quickest when jumping into combat. While their processors took a moment to process the threat and generate countermoves, Sideswipe was already in motion.
Knowing he had to target their leader, not only because Motormaster barked orders, but if they converged into Menasor, Motormaster was the more dominate personality to get his scatter-brained gestalt in line, Sideswipe could easily become outmatched in strength. Though such a thing pained him to admit.
But if the Stunticons remained scattered and disoriented, Sideswipe could overcome them.
He was good for a reason.
Engaging his pile drivers mid-leap, despite feeling the effects of warp sickness, Sideswipe slammed all his weight into the black semi's chest. They tumbled end over end, Sideswipe maintaining a strong hold until he and the semi came to a pain filled stop.
Motormaster's chest was severely dented, his dual windshields shattered, rent metal twisting from bent frame. His optics were dark in unconsciousness, but that didn't stop Sideswipe from offering him a couple of hard punches with a piledriver before righting himself and meeting Drag Strip in a whirlwind of fists and curses.
Sideswipe was impressed with Drag Strip's vocabulary… though when it came to truly scalding paint off a bot, no one could do it better than Ratchet.
For once, luck was on Sideswipe's side. Drag Strip stumbled along the uneven roads (thank Primus for potholes!) and blew out an axel. He didn't have time to cushion his fall when Sideswipe was upon him, slamming two rapid jabs to the face and a vibro knife slicing the main fuel line in Drag Strip's neck.
Drag Strip was unconscious, thrown into emergency stasis.
Two down, three to go!
A lucky shot, (and that's what it was, slag it!) to the helm and Sideswipe tumbled over the guardrail and ended up on a steep incline. Gravel crunched and scratched his paint as he slid down the embankment to the road below. Horns honked, drivers yelled, and Sideswipe did his best to avoid causing a pile up on the main highway.
Sadly, the remaining Stunticons weren't so generous.
Breakdown grasped a small white Volkswagen beetle, hurtling it and its driver to Sideswipe.
Sideswipe barely caught the bug, setting it on its tires without even looking at the driver and braced himself as Breakdown came running full throttle. Eons of fighting had given Sideswipe ninja like reflexes. Deftly he pivoted at the last second, and sent the Stunticon tumbling down the highway, adding more potholes in a Morse code until he disappeared over the edge of one of Oregon's sharp ravines.
Three down.
"Why bother?" Dead End asked, ever the pessimist.
"Slagging Autobot!" Wildrider screamed, barreling toward Sideswipe with the subtly of a ballistic missile.
The same fancy move that worked on Breakdown wasn't going to work on Wildrider. He extended an arm, twisted sideways, and caught Sideswipe across the chest, sending him spiraling along the road to slam into a large truck loaded with crated poultry. The truck turned over, a sizable dent painted carmine, one of the support bars bending in a good angle for Sideswipe's purposes.
Wildrider tumbled a few paces away but righted himself immediately, grasping a pine tree and pulling it up by the roots.
Sideswipe yanked the bar from the poultry truck just in time as Wildrider came charging at him. Crazy met crazy in a heated struggle of metal bar against aged pine. Branches broke off, showering the road and the bots with pine needles and abandoned bird nests.
Most bots would have been out of their element, but Sideswipe was more at ease with someone he could predict because he shared the same unstable, volatile, chaotic mindset.
Well, he had a twin after all.
A car came around the turn and slammed into Sideswipe's ankle, but he didn't have time to check the driver or his paint job. The sudden impact caused him to lose balance, which gave Wildrider the rare opening to launch a new attack, pine tree swinging in woodsy arc.
A branch upside the head and Sideswipe whirled his broken beam from the poultry truck and slammed it sideways, sinking it into Wildrider's left side. The crazy Stunticon cursed and shoved Sideswipe away, needing a moment to recover his senses for the next attack.
Sideswipe's focus on Wildrider was a mistake.
As he wiped sticky residue and needles off his face, a laser cut through his right shoulder, boring a neat hole that narrowly missed the shoulder junction. Cursing at his lack of foresight, Sideswipe dodged as Dead End, the only other remaining Stunticon, kept a safe distance and peppered the red Autobot, giving Wildrider more time to recover. Sideswipe staggered, over exaggerating the injury to his ankle and shoulder.
Wildrider ripped the small shard from his side, hefted its weight, and mindless of the energon dripping from his wound, charged at Sideswipe anew. Aiming for Sideswipe's injured side; he put all his strength into the thrust.
Battle experience gave Sideswipe expert timing. Deftly, he caught the Stunticon's arm and used his momentum against him, sending him headfirst into the rocky cliff side. There was a loud crunch of metal on rock, but Sideswipe didn't take time to gloat. Knowing Dead End would be waiting for another opportunity, Sideswipe jinked out of the way just as a shot went flying by his helm. Rock chipped and sprayed outward from the impact, pinging off of Sideswipe's handsome face.
Making sure to be a moving target, he ducked and staggered, subspacing his favorite laser pistol and returned fire. Unlike Dead End, Sideswipe's aim was far more accurate. Three shots landed squarely on the Decepticon's chest, causing him to fall back, weapon dropping uselessly at his side. He staggered a couple paces before falling to his knees, optics flickering. Energon leaked profusely from a hole in his torso.
Sideswipe limped forward, his ankle giving him genuine pain.
"Oh, what's the point?" Dead End asked, ever the hopeless fatalist.
"Good practice," Sideswipe said with a grin, shooting the con in the neck, sending him into immediate stasis.
A truck came barreling around the corner at that moment and slammed into Sideswipe, sending him careening into the rock face, where he bounced off and tumbled down the road. The driver uselessly slammed on his brakes, losing control of his vehicle.
Sideswipe skidded on his aft places in the middle of the road. Less than half a second later, he found a white pick up bolting toward his chest. Quick reflexes and millions of hours of training managed to save his face from receiving tire marks. He grasped the truck, halting its momentum and sat it on the graveled area marked as a look out spot for tourists.
Huffing and puffing, Sideswipe gained his pedes, and being courteous, kicked the unconscious Decepticons off the road, making it clear for future traffic.
Tink tink
Sideswipe glanced down. His once gorgeous shine, expertly buffed and oh so sleek and sexy, was scratched, dented, splattered with unknown organic matter, pine sap, needles, and to top it all off, smoke was starting to thread upwards from his injured shoulder.
He really got slagged up.
But he also took out 5 cons, single handedly.
Oh, he wasn't going to let his twin live it down!
Yeah, Sideswipe had just cause for his arrogance.
He couldn't wait to brag to his brother. And his team mates. Slag, he may even call up Megatron later tonight and gloat!
Wouldn't be the first time Sideswipe did such a thing.
Tink
Creak
Sideswipe groaned and made his way back to his teammates. His brother was feeling particularly surly. Sideswipe was curious to discover if it was related to a con or fellow Autobot.
Sometimes, Sunstreaker didn't differentiate.
Grumbling about the inevitable wrath of the medbay demon, Sideswipe followed the road toward his teammates. Mentally he counted off his injuries, stopping at the dozen marker, and knew, without a doubt, Ratchet would be slagged off and add even more injuries.
He was loveably violent that way.
Each step sent aches and pangs through Sideswipe busted frame. His ankle was grinding, there was a strange metallic sound clinking in his torso, his shoulder was creaking and sending smoke signals. All in all, he was in for an extended stay.
Joy.
His life wasn't complete without at least a few nights spent under Ratchet's wrathful therapy.
Tink
Apparently his busted frame was agreeing. A spark shot out from his shoulder.
Tink tink
Yup. Definitely, something knocked loose. In fact, there was a high probability Sideswipe's stay would extend an entire week. Ratchet was sadistic that way.
Mirage came into view, helping Hound to his pedes. They greeted Sideswipe with curious stares, undoubtedly impressed by his resin and pine needle tattoos. And the innumerable scuffs of defeated Stunticons.
Oh, Sideswipe wore his badges with pride.
And a healthy dose of ego. He sauntered up to his twin, busted shoulder finally giving out, hanging useless at his side. Another spark leapt toward Sunstreaker, leaving behind a trail of gray smoke.
"Guess who just took on the entire Stunticon team?" Sideswipe asked smugly, despite resembling a garbage truck from the bad part of town.
Tink
Sideswipe's left quarter panel loosened and hung limply on his side.
Sunstreaker's expression remained handsomely annoyed.
"And you look it," he bit out. "You're filthy!"
"Wildrider came at me with a tree," Sideswipe imparted, trying and failing to push his loose panel back into place. There was a noticeable black ding in it, courtesy of a Decepticreep.
Sunstreaker scowled, plucking a bit of pine needle off Sideswipe's undamaged left shoulder.
"Who won? You or a conifer?"
Tink tink
"I did, of course," Sideswipe said, feigning hurt at his brother's suggestion. "Put some iron in him actually."
"Didn't think you'd lower yourself to seduce a con," Sunstreaker snapped back, eyeing Sideswipe's natural mosaic of leaves, dirt, sap, and one bird nest on his right knee. He nodded toward the empty nest. "Organic suits you."
Sideswipe gave his brother a rude gesture. He was cute, slag it! He could make anything look good! Including a bird's nest!
Tink tink
Another spark issued from Sideswipe's busted shoulder. He ignored it, striking a pose to showcase his handsomeness and poise even when covered with organic matter. Unfortunately, the action caused another spark, this one larger, and miraculously zeroing in on Sideswipe's bird nest.
The spark turned to flame and Sideswipe danced a crazy jig, swatting his flaming knee.
It was Sunstreaker who came to the rescue, slamming his full palm down on the flame and snuffing it instantly. Sideswipe buckled from the impact, his knee joint threatening to bend in the wrong direction and give Ratchet even more work.
Sunstreaker snorted in disgust. "Idiot."
Creak
Squeak
Tink tink tink
Sideswipe examined his banged and dented frame. Smoke was pouring from his shoulder. He sighed. He was slagged up worse than he thought. But at least he was symmetrical, as his blackened knee was adding smoke to blend into his shoulder.
"Better not drive home," Sideswipe muttered. He hated riding in Prime's trailer.
"Not unless you want to lose your parts on the road," Sunstreaker added, jerking his thumb over his shoulder to where the injured were entering Prime's trailer.
It was only Bumblebee this time. The poor scout suffering a broken axel. Ratchet was helping the youngster into the trailer, every bit the caring, protective, patient caregiver.
Until he spotted Sideswipe approaching.
"What did you do this time, miscreant?" Ratchet asked by way of greeting.
"I," Sideswipe started, (tink tink,) he glanced to his chest and sighed, "took on all the Stunticons and whooped their tailpipes, but I seem to have taken some damage."
"Ya think?" Ratchet deadpanned, taking out a scanner and giving Sideswipe a precursor exam. "Nothing life threatening. For once. Get in and shut up."
Sideswipe was going to retort but Ratchet grabbed him by the scruff bar and all but threw him into the trailer, slamming the door behind him.
"Slagging maniac," Sideswipe called. He settled next to Bee, stretching out his long legs. "Doing alright, Bee?"
"Been better," the yellow bug grunted.
Sideswipe remained quiet the duration of the journey. Bumblebee was typically talkative and friendly, but didn't say a word on the way back to base. The only noise Bee made was heavy, even vents and the occasional whimper.
Sideswipe felt sorry for the little scout. Bee was as loveable and likeable as they come. It was an injustice someone so gentle of spirit being in pain. Sideswipe swore he'd find out who hurt the minibot and make them pay.
Ratchet induced stasis and checked over Bee's substructure. As he hoped, the damage wasn't nearly as bad as he initially thought. In less than fifteen minutes he was finished, placing an immobilizing brace on Bee's right leg to provide stability while the nanites integrated the new neural mesh.
"Alright, Trouble, you're next," Ratchet said, scrubbing his face with a worn, scuffed, blunted servo. He was already tired and cranky. Well, crankier than usual.
Sideswipe knew what would make the medic happy. A healthy dose of love and violence.
"Be gentle with me," Sideswipe said, rapidly shuttering his optics in a flirtatious way.
A loving rap to the helm with a wrench was his medicine. He laughed, shaking his head to clear the static.
Tink
Ratchet's face contorted as he took in the gaping hole so elegantly engraved into Sideswipe's shoulder, courtesy of Dead End.
"Have you run a diagnostic?" Ratchet asked, removing the interface cable at his wrist in preparation to plug into Sideswipe.
"Yes, and it said only you and those talented servos could heal me!" Sideswipe crooned, earning a face full of gnarled servo.
Thunk!
Sideswipe visibly rocked on the medtable. He laughed, rubbing his helm. Smoke puffed signals from his damaged shoulder. Then came the chorus of ticking metal.
Tink tink tink
tink
tink tink
There came a whirling noise from Sideswipe's torso. He grimaced, rubbing his servo over his chest plates. The 'tink' increased to where it resembled a ticking bomb.
Not one to be phased by a mech's malfunctioning internal workings, (or a bomb,) Ratchet growled a string of curses, activating Sideswipe's transformation protocol to open his chest plates.
Ratchet had been a medic for several millennia before the war broke out. He had witnessed some truly awful and miraculous things during that time. The war gave him new horrors and wonders to behold, adding to ever growing experience and making him a better medic.
He was unflappable.
Unmovable.
Stoic.
Battle hardened and soldier tempered, forged through metal and fire and sins too great to put into words. Nothing made him flinch. Nothing surprised him.
He DID work on the twins after all.
Millennia of pranks and war had immunized Ratchet to anything even remotely vulgar, weird, or frightening.
But Ratchet underestimated his favorite menace.
Soon as the seam released, there came a hiss, a pop, and grinding of metal. But instead of finding Sideswipe's spark chamber and internal mechanism, Ratchet witnessed, for the first time in recorded history, a mech's soul leaving his body.
At least, that's what he thought.
There was a strange noise, then nothing but white obscuring Ratchet's vision.
He yelled (well, screamed, but he'd never admit that to anyone, even under threat of torture and death) and wildly fanned his face.
The white disappeared.
Ratchet's optics shuttered several times while he regained his wits.
Somewhere, in the haze of panic and disbelief, Sideswipe's voice cut through.
"Well, that explains a lot."
Knowing dead bodies don't speak, and wondering how Sideswipe functioned without a soul, Ratchet glared down at his worst patient, fully expecting the grayed remains of a once wily and annoying mech. What he found was Sideswipe rising to his elbows to look past his open chest plates toward his pedes.
Ratchet was about to ask how Sideswipe remained functioning when his soul just departed, but then there was a soft, 'tink' noise and Ratchet faltered. He followed Sideswipe's line of sight.
And found Sideswipe's 'soul' pecking at the burned nest on the red mech's knee. Souls were not soft or fluffy, nor possessed a beak.
"A CHICKEN?!" Ratchet thundered so loudly the volcano shuddered.
"I wondered what was pecking away in there. Must have picked her up when I hit the truck," Sideswipe said with a soft chortle. He grinned at Ratchet in that devilishy annoying manner and added, "Ratchet, you mind watching my chicken while I'm recovering?"
Ratchet's fury was swift and brutal.
In the end, all that remained was an unconscious red gremlin and a pile of feathers.
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I have a feeling this may not have been the first time there was a chicken in the medbay.
Just saying…