Finding Home

Chapter 11

By Voodoo Queen

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Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! I thought in this chapter it might be nice to get a tiny peak at our OS2's past...a very tiny peak. More info will be forthcoming as she decides to share it. We'll also learn that even the best laid plans can have unintended and sometimes catastrophic consequences, as Sides will learn in the next chapter after Sunny has his way in this one. Anyway...as always I'd like to send a heartfelt thanks to all of you who have added this story to your follows and favorites. I can't tell you how excited it makes me that you're enjoying the story. Extra special love to those who took their time to review: HenriettaDarlington, jojoniles, Mywinx14, Guest, adelphe24, sakurawriter, Til' all are one, Edges05. You're awesome!

Oh, and this is something I found that I thought was hysterical and thought I'd share! I found a review for the Lamborghini Aventador online and it says, in part, that the car is "brutally powerful and obscenely flamboyant, the Aventador is unburdened by reality". Obscenely flamboyant and unburdened by reality. I love that so much, lol!

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.

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It really was a nice night. Doe decided she'd made the right decision to walk as she meandered across the base in the direction of the barracks. She breathed deeply, drawing the salty ocean air deep into her lungs before blowing it out again slowly. She found that when she had a lot on her mind, sorting it all out was often easier out under the open sky. The stars, what she could see of them with the base lighting obscuring the view, were beautiful. That was one thing she definitely missed about shipboard life. Every night after flight ops were wrapped and they'd called 'darken ship', she liked to venture out out to the port catwalk, lean on the railing and just gaze at the stars, duty schedule permitting. Between the millions of lights twinkling overhead and the roll of the ocean beneath her feet, she could feel her thoughts slow and just let the peace wash over her. Unfortunately, that was an option no longer available to her.

Being transferred to Diego Garcia and discovering that rumors of robotic aliens locked in a war with one another were, in fact, true had overloaded her mind to the point where she hadn't had time to think much about anything else than figuring out exactly what was expected of her in her new role. It honestly had been a small blessing. Now that she was starting her fourth week at N.E.S.T. and had had some time to wrap her brain around her situation and was getting more or less into a routine, hectic as it was, she was finding it harder to keep her thoughts from wandering during her down time. It had helped her some to adjust to her new environment by having someone else in similar situation to talk to when she'd first arrived but Monroe was still actively avoiding her like she had the plague. She wasn't sure what she'd done to deserve the cold shoulder but she wouldn't have felt comfortable talking to him about what was on her mind anyway. She didn't know him, not like that, and was fairly sure they didn't share the same issue currently.

The only other person she could really think of that she could talk to was Jazz, but she had shot down his offer to lend an ear as fast as he'd offered. She liked the mech. She really did. Despite their differences, she could tell he was genuine but she wanted the mech to honestly like her, too, not just pity her because she was some kind of throwaway that no one wanted. She knew talking led to questions and the answers weren't really something she wanted to think about right now. She'd had to pour out her sob story to more social workers and court appointed counselors over the years than she could count and the one thing she could never stomach was the pity in their eyes after she'd had to narrate for the millionth time how she didn't know who her parents were and that it had been the nurses at the hospital where she'd eventually ended up as a premature infant, barely clinging to life, who'd been the ones to finally take the initiative and name her something other than 'Baby Doe'. She didn't want to see that look from anyone else if she could help it. She'd never shared her story with any of her fellow crewman and she wasn't about to start now. She certainly didn't need aliens feeling sorry for her.

She could maybe, maybe, talk to Jazz about the enigma that was Sideswipe without delving too deep into herself but she wouldn't even know what to say or where to start. She wasn't good at that sort of thing. Whatever was going on had to have something to do with the teeth-rattling shock he'd given her when she'd unassumingly touched him that very first time. She was pretty sure of it. She was also pretty sure that she really, really needed to see a doctor about it. If nothing else they might be able to give her something to help her sleep. If Sideswipe's antics didn't cause her to die from embarrassment, she was pretty sure her repetitive, wild goose chase of a dream would have her dropping over from exhaustion sooner or later.

She'd briefly considered the possibility that it was all some kind of weird alien scientific experiment and that Sideswipe had been tasked with studying the after effects. To what end, though, she couldn't say. It had been a while since she'd had to use the Scientific Method in practice but she was sure none of the steps included love poems and blatant flirtation. She'd also considered that he may just be using her for entertainment purposes since she had overheard from various sources unfortunate enough to get caught up in one of his schemes that the mech was a notorious and mischievous prankster. She was pretty sure she'd feel horrible if that were the case but she could have sucked it up and carried on just as she'd had to do many times before and count herself blessed that he'd not decided to tar and feather her as he'd done a recharging Ironhide a week or two prior to her arrival. The only other possibility, that he may actually be serious, was something she didn't even attempt to consider with any seriousness. It was laughable, really. That didn't make it any less distracting, however.

She just didn't want to assume or offend anyone or, even worse, find herself in the middle of some alien cultural faux pas. She'd come here to work, to do the job she'd been assigned. It didn't matter if half the things Jazz was asking her to do were completely outside her professional scope. She'd overcome worse odds and hadn't ended up as just another statistic. She'd overcome whatever was going on with Sideswipe, as well. She'd just do what she did when faced with any other difficulty she'd stumbled across, grin and bear it and hope it all blowed over. And pray it worked.

Amy chastised herself for her dark thoughts. This was supposed to be a walk to clear her head after a trying and difficult day, not a rehash of all her life's woes. She suddenly realized she'd been so caught up that she hadn't even been paying attention to where she was going. She paused for a second to reorient herself. She'd been so distracted that she'd wandered slightly off her path. She'd gone a good block and a half beyond where she should have turned to get back to the barracks. She'd been down this way only once before on the bus to go to the small base PX to buy some toothpaste and a pack of ink pens but she didn't feel confident enough in her sense of direction, alone, in the dark, in a still-new place, to venture any farther on foot. With an amused chuckle at her own flakiness, she did a smooth about face and began to trek back in the opposite direction.

She'd gone half a block back up to the nearest intersection, she took a moment to glance up at the cloudless night sky and just enjoy the quiet, when the sudden squall of tires on asphalt and the angry roar of an engine shattered the peace. Doe wasn't sure which was more terrifying when her head jerked in the direction of the commotion, the deafening sound or the fact that the yellow Aventador came careening around the corner and toward where she stood paralyzed in fear so fast that she was sure it was going to plow right over her before it could skid to a stop at the curb. She'd closed her eyes, the only part of her body she could force to move, and braced herself for impact. It never came.

"Get in." The voice was deep, dark, and tight with tension. It was loud over the angry rumbling of the engine and didn't sound as though it would take 'no' for an answer.

Amy cracked her eyes open, surprised to still be alive and intact, and immediately wished she hadn't. She instantly recognized Sideswipe's twin, Sunstreaker, and though she was thankful not to be a smear across the sidewalk, that fate was probably preferable to what ever awaited inside the car. She could literally feel the heat and anger rolling off the Lamborghini's sleek frame in waves. The very last thing she wanted to do was climb inside. Her chest felt like it was about to explode with electricity and a wave of dizziness washed over her momentarily causing the world to swim and tilt before coming back into focus. She finally managed to open her mouth, her tongue like sandpaper, and forced out a quivering, "N-no thank you...l-I'm fine."

"I wasn't asking you, Squishie," Sunstreaker snarled. "I'm telling you. Get. In. Now."

"I, uh," Amy floundered, looking for some path of escape. Walking suddenly seemed like a very, very bad idea and she wished she had taken Jazz up on his offer to find her a ride. She could feel the weight of her phone in her back pocket. She briefly wondered at her chances of fishing it out and calling the mech for help while running for her life. An impatient growl from the car's engine told her she was running out of time. She stammered, hoping to delay, "Wh-why?"

"You don't get to ask questions," the mech snapped. "I'm giving you two options. Either get in now, on your own, before you really piss me off or I can put you inside myself. I don't think you'll like option two. Now, get in."

"O-Okay..." Terrified, Doe swallowed and nodded her head. Even though it seemed like a very bad idea, perhaps the worst she'd ever had, she hesitantly inched toward the car, not wanting to anger it any further. With trembling fingers, she reached for the door handle.

"Do not touch!" Sunstreaker bellowed causing the woman to reel backwards a couple steps in fear. He popped the door open. "I don't want your greasy, little fingers smearing oil all over my finish. Get in and keep your filthy hands to yourself."

On shaking legs, Amy took a couple shuffling steps back toward the idling vehicle. Feeling as though she wanted to burst into tears, she carefully maneuvered herself into the driver's seat, careful to avoid any contact with the door or frame for fear of making her situation worse. Once seated, the car door slammed down so hard that it caused her to yelp and instinctively make a grab for the steering wheel. As she did so, a blue-white arc of electricity passed between them. The sensation ripped a pained shriek from her throat and caused her vision to dim. Her hands went numb for a moment before sensation rushed back into them in the form of an uncomfortable, burning tingle. Just as with her first encounter with the other twin, the feeling crept agonizingly slow up her arms to settle in her chest.

The feeling suddenly bloomed in Doe's chest in an agonizing heat and for a moment she was certain that she was being burned alive from the inside out. The intensity stole her breath and she couldn't even draw enough breath into her lungs to scream. Then, as suddenly as the pain had come, it fizzled out just as abruptly leaving her with a subtle, buzzing throb that matched the frantic beating of her heart. In the background of static in her mind, she became aware of a repetitive blaring cacophony of noise. It took her a moment to think coherently enough to figure out that it was the Lamborghini's alarm system. About the same time she was able to identify it, it cut out in a strangled squawk.

"Fragging, bit-brained Squishie!" Sunstreaker raged, "I told you not to touch anything!"

"I'm sor-RAH!" Amy didn't get a chance to finish her tearful apology before the Lamborghini peeled away from the curb in a cloud of burnt rubber. It was fast, faster than any car she'd ever ridden in and she found herself pressed back into the driver's seat as the car tore down the street at a breakneck speed. She realized with ever increasing horror that they were heading away from the base proper in a direction she'd never gone before. It wasn't long at all before they came upon the perimeter fence. For one brief, horrifying moment, she expected them to go crashing right though it. Instead, the mech made a hard right, causing her to be thrown roughly into the driver's door.

"Primus," Sunstreaker growled. "Put your fragging seat belt on!"

Doe tearfully protested, "You told me not to touch anything!"

"And now I'm telling you to put your slagging seatbelt on, Squishie!" Sunstreaker snarled, "By the Celestial Spires, I swear I'm going to murder Sideswipe. That slag-sucking scrap for brains has completely fragged us this time..."

Amy fumbled for the seatbelt, clicking it into place, all the while listening to the mech spit and curse, raving on about all the ways he intended to do his brother bodily harm once he got his hands on him. She couldn't recall ever being more frightened than she was at that very moment. She had no idea what she'd done to invoke Sunstreaker's wrath but to hear him speak one would think she'd just signed his death warrant. She watched with growing dread as they turned onto a worn part off the main road that ran alongside the airstrip and the car finally began to decelerate. Her heart felt like it was trying to push its way out through her throat as they eventually rolled to a complete stop along the sandy coastline.

The Lamborghini's engine cut off suddenly as did Sunstreaker's cursing, leaving the pair in near silence except for the intermittent ticking of cooling metal and the rhythmic rushing of water against the beach. For one blissful moment, Doe thought he may have forgotten her presence altogether for a moment. Luck, however, wasn't on her side in that regard. When was it ever?

"Get out, Squishie." The words were flat, almost monotone in comparison to the mech's earlier rantings.

Doe was more than happy to comply, though. She scrambled out and away from the vehicle as soon as the door popped open, stumbling slightly as the sand beneath her boots shifted and falling to her knees in her haste to get away. Her wide eyes searched up and down the beach and she was disheartened to see that there wasn't any sign of another living being in sight. She did spy a small rock cropping a few yards away and quickly crawled towards them, pressing herself as tightly to their rough surface as she could in a vain attempt at blending in with the scenery. She hoped the worst was over but the sound of the mech finally transforming into his bipedal form told her otherwise.

Sunstreaker glowered in her direction, his sharp, blue optics seeming to appraise her only to find her sorely lacking. He snorted, disbelieving, and began to pace. When he finally spoke, every word he uttered seemed to drip with annoyance and revulsion. "Do you have any idea what a glitched up mess you've made, Squishie?"

Doe, trembling, shook her head in the negative, "I don't know what you're talking about..."

"Of course you don't!" The mech snarled, "You're just like everything else on this Primus forsaken planet! And make no mistake," he paused in his pacing long enough to jab a finger in her face, "I despise this planet."

"I'm," Doe stuttered, "I'm s-sorry..."

"You should be," Sunstreaker glared at the woman taking in her wide, frightened eyes and the hot tears running down her cheeks. He snorted, disgust plainly visible on his faceplates. "This has to be some kind of sick joke. Look at you...small and mushy, leaking everywhere. How can you stand yourself? It's revolting."

The mech' harsh words caused Doe to cry harder. It wasn't the first time she'd heard such venom spit in her direction. She'd been on the receiving end of such condemnation in one form or another most of her life. Hearing such disparaging remarks from Sunstreaker, though, cut deeper than any she could remember. She felt something inside of her chest twist, seeming to wind up tightly before snapping. The pain that followed, she couldn't even classify it as a physical sensation. It went deeper than that. The mech seemed oblivious, though.

Sunstreaker demanded, "Did Sideswipe put you up to this?"

Doe sobbed, "I don't know what you mean!"

"Spawn of Unicron," Sunstreaker cursed, "This cannot be fragging happening. Has my bit-brained brother told you anything?"

"N-no..." Amy shook her head frantically. "H-he just shows up once in a wh-while and chats for a bit before taking off again."

Sunstreaker's optics narrowed as he continued to interrogate the woman, "What do you two dim sparks talk about?"

"N-Nothing in particular," Amy denied through her tears. "J-just work stuff m-mostly," she sniffled. "Things going on around base. Earlier today he, h-he..." she trailed off as another sob wracked her body.

"He what?" Sunstreaker impatiently demanded she continue. "He what, Squishie?"

Amy swallowed thickly, trying to force the words out though what felt like a vice wrapped around her throat crushing her windpipe. "H-he was re-reciting p-poetry."

Sunstreaker went completely still and silent for a moment, his faceplates going slack before seeming to explode in a flurry of rage. "Poetry?! That bot fragging son of a scrap heap! Fragging poetry?!" The mech began pacing once more. "Did you know that we're twins? Did the glitch head at least tell you that much?"

"Y-yes," Doe nodded. "H-he did."

"And you have zero clue what that means, do you?" Sunstreaker glared at her, seemingly repulsed by the thought. "Absolutely none." He laughed then, the sound frighteningly flat and devoid of any real humor. "And why would you? Look at you," he spat. "Your just another useless organic caught up in something much bigger than you that your tiny, little meat brain has no chance of comprehending."

"I'm s-sorry," Amy muttered once again, still unsure what it was she was apologizing for but more certain than not that whatever the problem was was her fault.

"This was a mistake," the mech finally uttered. "Coming to this dirt ball of a planet was a mistake." He focused his heavy gaze back onto the frightened femme. "Let me make one thing perfectly clear to you, Squishie. I don't care what my brother tells you. We didn't survive the streets of Koan, the gladiator rings, and this Pit-spawned war to end up in some farce of a trine with some slimy, little bag of organic pulp. Sides may accept it but I never will. Do you understand me?"

Amy honestly had no idea what the mech was going on about but he seemed volatile and unstable at the moment and she certainly didn't want to take a precarious situation and make it any worse by disagreeing. "Y-yes," she nodded. "Yes, S-sir."

"Good," the mech grit out before turning to pace away. "Now, get out of here. I don't even want to look at you."

Doe didn't have to be told twice. On shaking legs, she pushed herself up off the ground. She didn't even take the time to consider that she hadn't really been paying too much attention to the twists and turns the mech had made once they'd left the main road. She really had no idea where they were in relation to the rest of the base but at the moment that didn't seem to matter as much as simply getting away and disappearing. She stumbled off in the direction of some thick trees just off the beach. The palms sat close together and towered over her, the undergrowth thick, pulling at her clothes as she pushed and shoved her way through. When she felt she was far enough away, the sound of the ocean becoming a distant drone in the background, she collapsed and allowed all that she had been holding back to escape in an agonizing rush.

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Sunstreaker gazed out over the crashing waves, his audios tuned to the sound of the crying woman running off into the tropical wood until he could no longer hear the rustling of the foliage in her wake. He closed his optics. His spark ached fiercely and all the yelling and screaming at the femme had only made it worse. He had known better than to think it would end any differently. The whole situation was fragged up all the way around. Sideswipe seemed to know instinctively that something was wrong. The mech was pinging his comm like there was no tomorrow, trying to get a handle on his location and figure out what had him feeling so helpless and distraught. Sunstreaker wasn't up for facing his other half at the moment. It took a lot for him to admit it, but he knew he'd been way out of line. He didn't need his brother to confirm it. He quickly disabled his comm unit and did what he could to block out the spark bond he and Sides shared. There was no doubt his twin would have plenty to say about his behavior but his wasn't trying to hear it tonight.

As he stood there, he was disturbed to realize that alongside his fading rage an uncomfortable feeling of regret was creeping in. His processor replayed every biting word he'd spat at the femme and he cringed. It wasn't her fault, not really. When it came right down to it, it wasn't even Sides' fault, as much as he liked to heap the blame on his twin. This sort of thing...he'd heard of it happening before but had never expected it to happen to them. He'd certainly never contemplated whether or not it was possible outside of their own species. An organic, he reminded himself. A small, fragile, easily damaged organic, his conscience chimed in. Something deep within him twisted uncomfortably at that.

"Frag me sideways," he growled. He turned then, and strode determinedly towards the expanse of trees the woman had disappeared into. He surveyed them darkly, his audios straining to hear any sign of her presence over the sounds of the island's native nocturnal wildlife. Nothing sounded distinctly human, much to his irritation. He briefly considered going after her but discovered the trees were too close together to allow him to pass through comfortably. He probably could have squeezed through, or even ripped them up out of the ground by their roots but the thought of scratching up his paint or ending up covered in grainy particulate gave him pause. He wasn't that far gone, damn it.

"Hey, Squishie," he called. "Are you in there?"

No answer.

"Look," Sunstreaker begrudgingly admitted, "I'm not apologizing but I may have been a little harsh on you, alright? Come on back out and...and I'll take you back to your barracks, okay?"

Silence.

"Squishie!" He felt himself losing patience again. "If you don't come out I swear to Primus I'm going to..." He stopped himself from finishing that thought and instead sucked the cool, night air deep into his intakes and cycled it back out slowly. "I'm not mad, I mean, I am. I'm pissed but it isn't your fault, not entirely. Just...come out, I'll take you home, and neither of us will ever speak of this again, alright?"

Still nothing.

"Slag it all," the mech cursed and began to trek along to perimeter of the trees. His optics analyzing every shadow for any sign of the femme. He had half a mind just to head on back to his and Sides' berthing and let the woman fend for herself. The unsettled feeling rolling around in his spark wouldn't allow him to, though. As much as he loathed to acknowledge it, he knew he and Sideswipe were going to have to have a serious spark-to-spark chat, one he dreaded more than he'd dreaded just about anything in his life. It wasn't supposed to be like this. They'd been doing just fine on their own, or so he told himself.

"I know you're in there, Squishie." Exasperated, he begrudgingly added, "Please..."

End of Chapter 11