Author's Notes: Well, I'm not waiting until Friday to upload this chapter because I didn't post anything on Friday and you lovely readers have waited long enough. I've been super busy lately with working on jobs for clients, but I finally managed to carve out a moment to write this chapter. Good news, it's a long one. LOL! Thank you to everyone who had read, favorited, and reviewed this story. You guys are great audience :)
Chapter 26
Piece of Oil Cake
"I missed it?!" Ironhide exclaimed after the other Autobots explained what happened, "There was a big fight that even Bulkhead got to go to, and I missed it! Stupid triple feature! The movies weren't even that good."
"Look on the bright side," Jazz replied, "The 'Cons'll likely scrap Cylas for parts."
"I guess," Ironhide muttered as he crossed his arms over his chassis, "I'm just itchin' to do stuff. I'm sick of being laid up with this stupid tox-en paralysis."
"Me too," Bulkhead agreed, "But hey, at least we're getting better."
"Easy for you to say, lugnut. You got to go fight," Ironhide grumbled, "So, where's Arcee?"
"I don't know, sweet spark," Chromia shrugged, "After we came back she went down the hall, and I ain't seen her since."
"I'll go look for her," Ironhide announced, "It'll give me somethin' to do besides feel my aft rust."
With those words Ironhide left the group to discuss their latest adventure. Normally Ironhide liked hearing talk about 'Con crushing, but lately it just wasn't the same. Not only were the Autobots being forced to pull their punches, but Ironhide hadn't actually been able to contribute to the team since the artifact hunt went so wrong. Ironhide could still see that Insecticon hovering over the volcano taunting their efforts as Bulkhead and Ironhide struggled to carry that toxic energon to the top and throw it into the lava. If the two bruisers hadn't taken turns carrying that stuff it would've been a disaster. A lone Autobot could've died from that much exposure to that poisonous substance.
Ironhide checked Arcee's quarters, but she wasn't in there. He checked the main room again, the medbay, and the storage room. No matter where Ironhide looked was no sign of his daughter.
Then he remembered that they had made a grave marker for Cliffjumper on top of the mesa that concealed the base. Nodding to himself, Ironhide took the elevator to the top and sure enough, she was sitting there next to the pile of rocks that served as a primitive memorial to their fallen comrade.
"Hey, sparklet," Ironhide drawled as he struggled to sit next to Arcee, "You doin' alright up here?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, sure," Arcee replied distractedly, "Sire...Do you remember the first mission you went on with me and Cliff?"
"I remember you called him a motor-mouthed aft," Ironhide smirked.
Arcee huffed indignantly but then smiled wanly and settled onto Ironhide's shoulder guard. She had wanted to be alone, but she made an exception for her sire. After all, he and her carrier understood her better than anyone.
"Sire, I know this is going to sound really screwed up, but...I think I'm jealous of Ratchet," Arcee told him as she continued to look at the blue sky above them.
"You wanna be a crusty old medic?" Ironhide snorted jokingly, "Well, it'll take some doin', but I think after a few hundred thousand vorns you'll be ugly enough to fill his pedes."
"Very funny, Sire!" Arcee remarked as she pushed him away teasingly, "But no. I actually meant I'm jealous of him and Bluestreak. I look at Cliff's grave, and I try so hard to remember the good times we shared, but...I always remember that he's not really buried here. His body is in some deep chasm shambling aimlessly or else so depleted of energon that he finally died for real."
"What do you mean, sparklet?" Ironhide asked obliviously.
"Megatron turned Cliffjumper into a Terrorcon," Arcee explained.
Ironhide gasped in shock and asked "Terrorcon? You mean to tell me those are real?"
"As real as you or me," Arcee growled softly, "Starscream killed Cliffjumper, and then Megatron turned him into...I can't even describe it. He was like an animal. It wasn't even really Cliffjumper, but just some empty sparkless monster using his body. I wanted so much to save him Sire..." By this point she had started to cry, "When his spark signature came back online for a brief moment I had hope, but when I saw him like that it was all gone. Now with this whole thing with the Vehicons...I'm grateful that some of our friends and loved ones will be returned to us, but that will never happen for me. My friend Tailgate was butchered right in front of my optics, and Cliffjumper was...I just can't help but think about everything we'll never have now."
"There, there, Arcee," Ironhide soothed as he pulled her close to him protectively, "I know it hurts. So many of us have lost loved ones. I liked Cliffjumper too. Thought he'd make a great son-in-law. He was certainly handsome enough."
"Sire, you only say that because he had the same color paint job as you when you two met," Arcee smirked despite how she still felt.
"I know, you two looked like a younger version of me and Chromia," Ironhide said fondly as he remembered that time, "Mech also shared the same interest in really big cannons as I did, though you were right to say he talked a lot."
"Yeah, he and Bluestreak would've really gotten along," Arcee replied wistfully, "Sire, I miss him. Is it sick that I wish he had been turned into a Vehicon? I'd rather have an incomplete mate than none at all. The others at least have hope that some of their loved ones can come back. I guess I shouldn't wallow in self pity like this, huh?"
"Yeah, that won't solve nothin'," Ironhide agreed, "You know what will though? Exactly what you and the rest of us are doin' right now. Findin' Vehicons, findin' relics, and stoppin' Megatron before he does any more damage. Cliffjumper might not be around to say it, but I know he'd be proud of you. I know because I'm proud of you, and so is your carrier. You've survived things that would've killed weaker Cybertronians. You hurt, but you still manage to pick up the pieces. Someday this war will end, and when it does you'll get to live life the way you were supposed to before all this scrap went down."
"I don't know if I would fit in with a world at peace," Arcee admitted ruefully, "I've spent my whole life running and fighting. I'm not sure I can start over again."
Ironhide sighed tiredly at her confession. When next he looked at her his optics looked so much older than she remembered them ever looking.
"I'd wanted to give you so much more than this," Ironhide said heavily as his shoulder guards slumped, "When your carrier and I found you in the rubble of that foundlin' home in Iacon we dreamed of a quick end to the war. We wanted to move into a little house outside Iacon and give you a good sparklinghood. We would've become crystal harvesters and lived off the land. You would've had any pet your spark desired and we would've sent you to a good school in the city. Now you're grown, your fiancé is dead, and Chromia and I are literally as old as the hills surroundin' this fraggin clubhouse. We have to end this war soon. Even if I can't see it, I want you to live in that bright new world with no Decepticons, no gunfire, and no hatred. It's all I've ever wanted for you."
Arcee's optics welled up with cleaning fluid and she silently cried at his words. She hugged her sire, both of them so strong yet so frail, and she allowed herself one moment of vulnerability.
Bluestreak had a fitful time trying to recharge that night. It wasn't just the mission with Bulkhead and having to shoot Breakdown's remains. If that had been his only problem he could've talked about it with his sire, but it wasn't. No, the real pain started for him after he got home.
"A human living in a dead corpse?" Jazz asked in shock, "Well, now I've heard everythin'."
"That's sick," Skywarp breathed, but then said, "So did you poke him?"
"What?" Bluestreak asked cluelessly.
"When you KO'ed the human. Did you poke him?" Skywarp asked again; prodding for any juice details, "I would've poked him with a stick."
"That's disgusting," Bluestreak groaned longsufferingly, "Besides, he could've killed Bulkhead. I wasn't exactly thinking about having fun at that moment."
"Why not?" Skywarp asked almost innocently, "Crushing enemies is fun. I mean, it's a shambling sorta-dead body, so it was probably a piece of oil cake for you to take him down. Just shoot him in the spark and BLAM! Insta-roadkill."
"What did you say?" Bluestreak asked suddenly as his frame started involuntarily shaking.
"Uh...insta-roadkill?" Skywarp replied uncertainly, "It's like roadkill only...faster...I guess."
Bluestreak didn't know what else to say, so he turned and walked away from his fellow Vehicons. Jazz and Skywarp called for him to come back, but Bluestreak just couldn't handle standing there at that moment. His processor was starting to flood with memories, not all of them pleasant, and all because of the word oil cake.
"You sure you don't wanna come with us?" Bluestreak asked Sunstreaker as he and Sideswipe stood by the entrance of their secret cave.
"Positive," Sunstreaker snorted, "Last time we went down there Sire threw a fit at seeing how we had blemished our pristine paint jobs. Our color nanites are very expensive, you know."
"I'll just clean up before we get home," Sideswipe replied dismissively, "I promise bro, Sire won't know I was even down there."
"Just be careful, alright?" Sunstreaker admonished his twin.
"Of course, no problem," Sideswipe replied with an easy grin, "Blue and I will be back before you can say 'come back with my polish you aft'."
Sideswipe then pulled a tube of polish out of his subspace and dove down into the hole that was the entrance to the cave.
"What the-? Come back with my polish, you aft!" Sunstreaker shouted furiously and shook his fist in the air.
Bluestreak knew that murderous look and decided he didn't want to be Sideswipe's understudy, so he dove into the cave to catch up with his red friend. Sunstreaker decided it wasn't worth chasing them down the hole, so he sat on the quartz surface of the field and waited for his idiot brother and idiot friend.
"Whew! Sideswipe, I wish you wouldn't do that," Bluestreak sighed as he followed Sideswipe down the dark path to the pool of energon with the swimming mollusks in it, "One day he might hurt you."
"Nah, Sunny would never hurt me," Sideswipe replied as he draped his arms behind his helm in a casual manner, "I trust him more than anyone else in the world. We've always got each other's backs. Kind of like you and Prowl, only with more competition since we're the same age."
"I wish Prowl was still here and not at the Police Academy in Iacon," Bluestreak lamented.
"It's only a few kliks away," Sideswipe pointed out, "He still visits."
"Yeah, but it's not the same," Bluestreak insisted, "He used to protect me from the bullies, but now he can't."
"Sunny and I helped you get back at Tracks, right?" Sideswipe pointed out.
"Right," Bluestreak conceded, "But I can't always tell you when something's wrong. We can't play pranks on the bad guys if we can't comm each other about it, and we're not allowed to use comms in school. I'd rather just get beat up than force you and Sunstreaker to fight my battles anyway."
"That's stupid," Sideswipe scoffed, "You should tell us. Sunny is really strong, and while I might be less strong I'm also the smart one. Any random objects that can be used to prank, I'll use them. Nobody can beat me!"
"If you know what's going on," Bluestreak pointed out, "But I can't always tell you, especially not in school."
"Hm, this is a tough one," Sideswipe said thoughtfully, "Sunny and I can speak to each other over our bond, so we don't need comms. We can't talk to you though, and you can't talk to us. What we need is a way to tell each other if we're in danger and need help. Hey, that's it! We need a code word!"
"What's that?" Bluestreak asked ignorantly.
"A code word is something army guys use when their comms are offline," Sideswipe explained, "We just need a word for danger. Something that the three of us can all know and tell each other if we need to be bailed out of something. It has to be kind of an odd word so there's no mistake, but not a word that would sound stupid in conversations like verily or anything like that."
"Heh heh, verily," Bluestreak snickered.
"Okay then...a good code word...how about the universal greeting?" Sideswipe asked.
"I never learned it," Bluestreak replied glumly, "To me it just sounds like gibberish. How about chassis polish?"
"Nah, Sunny would actually use that in everyday conversation," Sideswipe dismissed the idea, "How about slag face?"
"I'm not allowed to curse," Bluestreak shot down that idea, "What about oil cake?"
"Hm...oil cake. I like it," Sideswipe replied with a smile, "It's a normal word to say, but not a common one. Okay then. We'll run the code word by Sunny when we go back up to the surface. That way we'll always know when to bail each other out."
"Great idea, Sideswipe," Bluestreak nodded, "How did you get so smart?"
"I dunno. School?" Sideswipe asked, but then a moment later started laughing at the irony. They both knew he never paid attention in class.
Over the school vorn the trio of troublemakers used their secret code word every time they needed something. Bluestreak would use it if Tracks was getting too close to their location so they could get away from him. Sideswipe once used it when he wanted Bluestreak to pull the fire alarm for him so he could get out of a test. That wasn't the intent of the code word, but Bluestreak wanted to keep his cool friends so he did as he was told. Sunstreaker never used the code word, asserting he never needed help from anyone. The other two rolled with it, but they knew he was just trying to act cool to keep his bad boy reputation.
Their routine had changed little over that period of time. After school the trio would find some place to hang out and get into trouble. It was usually racing, though sometimes it was exploring. There were times when Bluestreak would invite the twins over to play video games and hang out. Ratchet wasn't fond of the twins and their corrupting influence, but he knew they were Bluestreak's only friends, so he didn't kick them out. He settled for complaining under his vocalizer out of audial range.
One thing that puzzled Bluestreak after a while was how Sunny and Sides never invited him to their house. He knew where they lived due to the school directory, but they never drove by there, not even to grab a few toys or anything. Bluestreak had never met their family, but he knew they were rich kids with an important sire who worked in the construction industry. To most he was an upstanding mech in the community, but he had his detractors. The rumor went around that Sunstroke, the twins' sire, owned gladiators in the illegal fighting circuit in Kaon. Of course no one had ever seen it. It was just a rumor.
Sometimes Bluestreak was jealous of all the cool things the twins' sire could afford to buy them. They had the best paint, the best frames, the best toys, and the best video games. Sunstreaker even had a personal trainer when he joined the school's racing team. Bluestreak's sire wouldn't even let him go out for sports because he feared his youngest sparkling getting hurt. Bluestreak sometimes felt his sire was too restrictive, and he just wanted to have fun and let loose sometimes.
One orn Bluestreak found himself alone in the house while his sire was at a conference in Iacon giving a lecture on open spark surgery. He thought about calling Prowl, but he knew his brother was busy with his studies. So, he went with the good old standby of comming the twins. Strangely though...they didn't answer. Sideswipe never ignored his comm. Never. Bluestreak has a bad feeling about this, but didn't want to panic. Still, he knew he should at least check on his friends.
Bluestreak left a quick note in case his sire got home before he did, and then drove off to the gated community where the twins lived. The guardian robot recognized the grey and red sparkling, so Bluestreak was admitted no problem. The houses in this neighborhood weren't as big as Bluestreak would've imagined, but they all boasted gold frames and beautiful perfectly maintained crystal lawns.
When Bluestreak got close to the front door of the twins' house he heard screaming that sounded like Sideswipe, but he couldn't tell if it was playful screaming or painful screaming. Well, only one way to find out. Bluestreak gulped once and then rapped on the door using the bronze door knocker that looked like a sharkticon's face.
"Answer it, boy!" A deep masculine voice could be heard hollering from the other side of the door.
Bluestreak almost backed away and ran, but then the door opened and he saw Sunstreaker standing in the doorway. The mechling didn't look hurt in any way, but his posture was tense and his optics darted between Bluestreak and the room beyond the doorway.
"Hi, Sunstreaker," Bluestreak greeted him quietly; feeling awkward at being at a house he was never invited to, "Sideswipe didn't answer his comm today. I wanted to know if you guys wanted to play."
"No Blue, not today," Sunstreaker replied quickly; in a hurry to make the other sparkling leave, "We're kinda busy here, so I gotta go."
"Okay, um, sure," Bluestreak stammered, "So um...is everything okay today?"
There was hesitation in Sunstreaker's expression as he turned from the doorway back to Bluestreak. It took a moment for the golden mechling to answer, but when he did Bluestreak's energon went cold.
"Yeah Blue, we're fine," Sunstreaker replied, "Everything's as sweet as oil cake in here. Say hi to your brother for me, okay?"
"Um...okay," Bluestreak replied slowly, trying to absorb what he just heard.
The door shut abruptly as Sunstreaker appeared to be in a hurry. Something was very wrong. Bluestreak knew it. Not only had Sunstreaker used the code word for the first time, but he asked Bluestreak to say hi to Prowl; a mech Sunstreaker didn't even know. Sunstreaker did know one thing about Prowl though; he had contacts in the police force. Bluestreak had to figure out what was going on.
Bluestreak went to the nearest window and peered inside; trying to stay inconspicuous. He didn't see anything, so he went around to the side of the house to try to find something there. He hid behind a aquamarine boulder and had to lift himself up on his tiptoes so he could see inside the higher-up window. When he did he almost wished he hadn't.
There was a shiny black mech, Sunstroke, sitting in a chair with Sideswipe draped over his knees. The larger mech was forcing electric cables into the seams of Sideswipe's armor at the small of his back and shocking him again and again. Sideswipe screamed in pain, and Sunstreaker stood off to the side watching in silent anger and helplessness. Sideswipe barely seemed conscious, yet was obviously in pain. Bluestreak couldn't believe it...
Their sire was abusing them.
Bluestreak let go of the window and ran into the spacious backyard of the twins' house. He was crying as he forced himself to comm Prowl; hoping against all hope that his brother would answer before that brute found out Bluestreak had been watching.
/Hello Bluestreak,/ Prowl answered with a placid greeting; a stark contrast to what was going on in Blue's part of the world, /I am rather busy right now, so if you could comm again later-/
/He's gonna kill Sideswipe!/ Bluestreak sobbed into the comm; barely aware of what Prowl had said, /He was- and then the- the shocking and- Sunstreaker! Oil cake! He never- and then you- he said-/
/Calm down, Bluestreak,/ Prowl ordered, /Obviously something is wrong. So, tell me from the beginning what happened./
/No time!/ Bluestreak wailed insistently, /Sideswipe's sire is gonna kill him! Please, I need an officer right now! Sideswipe's sire is hurting him with shock cables and he's gonna die! Please Prowl, hurry!/
Prowl growled on the other end of the comm, and then in an authoritative voice said /I'm on my way. Stay out of sight until I get there./
The comm was cut off then, and Bluestreak was once again alone with the nightmarish scene happening just beyond the walls of the nearby house. Bluestreak hugged himself and paced back and forth. What if Sideswipe died? Would Sunstreaker die too? Could a sire kill his own sparklings? Bluestreak had never thought of such a thing before. His own sire was strict but Bluestreak knew he was loved and that his sire would never hurt him.
Bluestreak had always thought of Sideswipe and Sunstreaker as lucky because of their wealth and popularity, but as he paced in their backyard he realized how lucky he was to live in a house with love and respect.
Another scream emanated from the house, this time accompanied by an additional horrified scream from Sunstreaker, and Bluestreak knew then that he couldn't wait for the police to arrive. Whatever happened to him, he had to save his friends.
Thinking frantically, Bluestreak searched for a way into the house, but the back door was locked. Bluestreak was halfway to the front of the house when he noticed that one of the aquamarine crystals in the garden was loose. Before he could even process what he was doing, Bluestreak grabbed the gemstone and threw it at the window; shattering it.
"What the slag? Who broke me window!?" Sunstroke bellowed, and Bluestreak gasped and froze in panic.
The front door opened with an innocuous whoosh, and pedesteps violently stomped over to the side yard where Bluestreak was standing. Bluestreak's blue optics were wide as scraplet holes as he looked upon the harbinger of his doom.
"You break my window, youngling?" Sunstroke asked gruffly.
"Uh...uh..." Bluestreak, never in want of words, was now suddenly and surprisingly silent.
"Who's your sire?" Sunstroke interrogated him, "He's going to have to pay to repair my window. Come on, out with it sparkling! I want a name."
"N-No!" Bluestreak managed to say; unwilling to drag his sire into this mess, "I know what y-you d-did, you monster!"
"What on Cybertron are you talking about?" Sunstroke asked indignantly, "You are the one who came onto my property and threw my crystal into my window. Hooligans like you ought to be fed to wild cyberhounds. Now, get off my property!"
"No!" Bluestreak argued, finally finding a well of courage deep within himself, "You hurt Sideswipe! You tried to kill your own creation! I'm not sorry! I think you're the one that should be fed to cyberhounds, you bully!"
Sunstroke's faceplate contorted into a vicious glare. Bluestreak suddenly realized what a stupid idea it was to insult someone so much bigger and more powerful than himself. He backed against the privacy fence, and Sunstroke advanced closer to him. Bluestreak knew he was probably going to get the same shock treatment as Sideswipe, but he had run out of ideas and bravado. There was nothing he could do to save himself.
"Stop!" Sunstreaker suddenly hollered as he and a limping Sideswipe ran to stand next to him, "Leave him alone! Bluestreak is just a sparkling. He's two vorns younger than us, and you know how stupid sparklings are at that age. He doesn't know any better."
"I'm only 1.7 vorns younger!" Bluestreak snapped defensively despite the desperate situation.
"Not helping," Sunstreaker hissed in Bluestreak's audial receptor.
"You two get back in the house and let me deal with this ne'er do well," Sunstroke ordered his sons, "I don't want you hanging around this troublemaker ever again. Do you understand me?"
"I'm a troublemaker!?" Bluestreak squawked before Sunstreaker could answer him, "I'm not the one that hurts his own kids! You don't deserve to be a sire! Your sparklings are too good for you!"
Upon hearing those words Sunstroke backhanded Bluestreak with such force that he was lifted in the air and fell hard on the ground a few meters away. Sideswipe clung to Sunstreaker in terror, and Sunstreaker watched in stunned silence as their friend grew a spinal strut right before their optics. The yellow sparkling was afraid for Bluestreak, but more than that he was impressed.
"I can tell from your armor that you're a middle caste mechling," Sunstroke growled maliciously, "I can make you disappear, boy. I have enough money and connections to smelt your body beyond recognition and pay off anyone that finds out the truth. You had your chance to leave us alone. Remember that."
Sunstroke then transformed his arm into a cannon and aimed it at the downed sparkling. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe saw this and immediately ran to shield their friend. Sunstroke hesitated firing when he saw his sons cowering over their friend, but rather than give up his endeavor he merely threw the boys out of the way one by one. Every time he would throw one twin away however the other would run back up to take his place. They weren't about to let Bluestreak be killed because of them.
"Get out of my line of fire, you scraplets!" Sunstroke screamed at his sons.
"Sire, please! We'll never see Blue again, just let him go!" Sideswipe begged.
"Yeah, this is our fault, not his," Sunstreaker added, "I was the one that told him to stay. I'm sorry, Sire. No one will believe anything he says about you. Just let him leave."
"It's too late for that, boys," Sunstroke replied firmly, "Now get out of my way so I can shoot that pest back to the pit where he came from."
"Not so fast!"
Everyone turned around at the sound of a new player, and saw that four police mechs had their weapons drawn on Sunstroke. He couldn't believe his optics that such a thing was happening to him, as many times as he had contributed to the police at their blasted charity auctions.
"Officers, this is all a misunderstanding," Sunstroke said silkenly in an effort to smooth things over, "The boys and I were just playing a game. No one was actually getting hurt, believe me."
"Bluestreak?" One of the younger cops turned to the sparkling, and Sunstroke noticed how much the two models seemed to favor each other in appearance.
"He was going to shoot me!" Bluestreak replied accusingly after Sunstreaker helped him get up, "He was hurting Sideswipe with power cables, and he was going to smelt me after he shot me. He said so. Right guys?"
Sunstreaker and Sideswipe looked conflicted. If they ratted out their sire and nothing happened then they would be killed for sure. Then again, if they were ever going to have a chance to escape their miserable lives then this was it. Finally, Sunstreaker came forward.
"That's exactly what he said, officer," Sunstreaker told the police, though he was glaring daggers at his sire as he said it, "Sire was going to kill Bluestreak in cold energon, even after Sides and I begged him not to. He uses the shock cables on us every time we do something wrong. I've passed out a few times, but Sideswipe gets it even worse than me. This was nothing compared to sometimes."
Sunstroke was getting angry at his son, but he knew better than to throttle the mechling right in front of the police.
"This was all my fault," Sideswipe added guiltily, "I got my frame dirty again, so Sire shocked me. He always uses shocks to our protoform because it won't mess up how we look. I should've washed up before going home, but I didn't think. Bluestreak was just trying to protect us, but he wouldn't have to if I had listened and kept my paint job clean."
The three younger cops had expressions on their faces that ranged from sympathetic to enraged at the sire to horrified that a sparkling could ever blame himself for his sire trying to take an innocent life. Fortunately the senior officer on duty still had his wits about him.
"Hold out your servo, Sunstroke," The eldest police mech ordered, and then attached a tracking chip to one of his servos, "You're under arrest under code 43-2.4 subsection 45 D, abuses and endangerment of a sparkling as well as subsection 24 D, attempted murder of a sparkling. Your lawyer may offer council within your prison cell. Your comm will be disconnected and any resistance will be met with as much force as necessary to detain you, followed by further penalties. Now, follow me back to the station."
Sunstroke was then forced in front of his equally affluent neighbors to drive away with the large semi-former police officer. Bluestreak breathed out air he didn't realize his intake had been holding, and the twins leaned against the fence to keep themselves from falling down in exhaustion and relief.
"Hey Prowl?" Bluestreak addressed his brother, "Who was that big guy?"
"That was my instructor, Commander Ultra Magnus," Prowl replied, "And these two are my roommates and dear friends, Barricade and Jazz."
"Nice ta meet'cha, kiddos," Jazz replied genially, "I'm sorry it had to be under these circumstances though."
"I hope that guy's cellmate transforms into a really sharp knife," Barricade growled as he looked in the direction where they drove away.
"Hey 'Cade, not in front of his sparklings!" Jazz chided his friend, "You remember our sensitivity training."
"I also remember what they do to guys like that in prison," Barricade smirked unapologetically, "So, you kids got any place to go?"
"We'll figure something out," Sunstreaker shrugged nonchalantly, "Maybe our Aunt Stunner or our Cousin Red Alert. We'll be okay."
"Are you sure?" Bluestreak asked worriedly, "What if they hurt you too?"
"Then we'll call you again," Sideswipe replied half-jokingly, "I've gotta say, I've never seen you stand up to anyone like that. I was almost impressed."
"Bluestreak, you should have waited for us," Prowl scolded his little brother, "That was dangerous. Sunstroke has connections with organized crime. You were mere kliks away from termination. Do you have any idea how much it would hurt me and Sire to lose you?"
"I know it was stupid," Bluestreak replied contritely, "But they could've died. I had to save my friends. Sunny and Sides are like two extra brothers to me."
"We are?" Sideswipe asked; touched, "Well...I guess we're pretty close to you too. I mean, no one has ever done anything like that for us. You stood up to Sire! There are senators that can't do that, but you did it. We'll never forget this, Blue."
"Yeah," Sunstreaker nodded shakily, the events of the orn finally catching up with his processor, "And Prowl sir? Thank you for coming to save us too. You and your friends are amazing. You saved our lives. Thank you."
"What's this?" Sideswipe exclaimed playfully, "Sunny, with emotions? I'm guessing we must've died or something! Ha!"
Sunstreaker glared at Sideswipe, but it was a playful glare. Jazz and Barricade laughed at the antics of the sparklings, and Bluestreak laughed more in relief than humor. Whatever happened, Bluestreak was sure things would work out better for the twins. Anything had to be better than an abusive oversized bully for an authority figure.
Bluestreak laid there on his berth as he recalled that day. It was only 4 deca-orns after that event that Praxus was destroyed by the Decepticons. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had lied about the aunt and cousin. Well, those people were real, but they were in no position to take in sparklings. The twins had been in a foster care facility in Iacon when Praxus fell, which ironically enough had saved their lives since they were nowhere near the scene of the destruction.
Bluestreak still wondered what became of the terror twins. Did they join the Autobots? Did they become Vehicons? Maybe even join the Decepticons? That last one seemed unlikely given their small frames and playful natures. That level of fun wasn't allowed in the Decepticons.
Bluestreak had asked Ratchet about the twins, but he hadn't seen them since they were sparklings. None of the other Autobots had even heard of them, so that left Bluestreak at square one. It was likely that they were Vehicons now...or dead.
"Hey Jazz," Bluestreak whispered in the darkness amid his slumbering Vehicons roommates, "Jazz! Are you online?"
"Ugh, I am now," Jazz replied groggily, "Everythin' alright?"
"Do you remember when you, Prowl, and Barricade saved two mechlings named Sunstreaker and Sideswipe?" Bluestreak asked.
"Yeah, I remember, vaguely," Jazz replied, "Their sire was an abusive glitch. I think he died in prison after an accident in a boiler room."
"Yeah, them," Bluestreak confirmed, "You haven't been a Vehicon as long as I have, so I was wondering if you know what happened to them after the war started."
"Naw, can't say that I do," Jazz shrugged from where he lay on his berth, "You gotta understand, split spark twins are rare for a reason. Their sparks are weaker because of only bein' half-formed. Those two probably didn't live past their third frames. A final upgrade would be hard on them. Even if they did live that long, the war would take its toll on such vulnerable young mechs. The 'Cons probably got them before they could even learn how to shoot a gun. I'm sorry Bluestreak, but I doubt they're still livin'."
"I just wish I knew," Bluestreak lamented, "They were like family to me. I know to everyone else it was a lifetime ago, but those two are my last missing link to the life I lived before Megatron stole my future from me. I can't have Prowl, but maybe if we could find Sunny and Sides...I don't know. Maybe I'd have someone to talk to about the old days besides Sire. I love Sire, but he wasn't the one that went on those crazy adventures with me or understood what school was like back then. That was the twins. I feel like they understood me on a level no one else around here does. I just wish I knew..."
"I wish I could help ya, but I can't," Jazz replied apologetically, "All we can do is save as many Vehicons as possible. Maybe someday we'll find the twins, maybe we won't. Either way, there are hundreds of Vehicons left that had lives stolen from them too. All we can do is help them get back what they lost."
"Thanks, Jazz," Bluestreak whispered gratefully, "You know something? You're kind of like a brother to me too. Especially since you knew Prowl better than anyone. I'm sorry you got turned into a Vehicon, but I'm glad you're here now."