Inside Out

AN: Going to do some DRAMA. Hold on tight!

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"Dad?"

Prowl shuttered his optics and gave a weary sigh through his vents. "Yes, Sunstreaker?"

"Sideswipe is trying to sneak out of base again."

"Tell your brother that I said he is to remain on base until the speeding tickets are taken care of."

"Will do," Sunstreaker said, pausing for a moment before adding, "Can I hit him?"

"Only if he hits you first," Prowl said, doing his best to suppress a grin.

Two weeks ago there had been a skirmish with the Decepticons that had started at a power station three blocks away, and ended up with the twins at the mall. The duo had decided the day was perfect for surfing on seekers, Sideswipe having wrested his position on top of Starscream, Sunstreaker latching onto an irritated Skywarp. It didn't go according to Sideswipe's brilliant plan. Luckily it was just after daybreak, so the mall was thankfully empty.

Sideswipe was dumped in the food court by a laughing Starscream, who Sideswipe was sure enjoyed the midair tussles with the turbulent twins. Sunstreaker ended up in a department store. When he tried to get up, the second floor crashed onto his head, knocking him cold.

Sunstreaker awoke in medbay sometime later, and for reasons the Second In Command and Medic couldn't understand, Sunstreaker believed Prowl to be his creator. At first Ratchet and Prowl thought Sunstreaker was faking, hoping to gain sympathy or get away with something that would normally include brig time. However, Sunstreaker obeyed every command given to him by his new 'father,' never questioning him and going about his duties without complaint.

The rest of the Command staff weren't buying it, so Prowl thought of a way to test Sunstreaker's conviction, or as Jazz put it, his defectiveness of processor. Prowl asked Sunstreaker where Sideswipe's illegal high grade still was located, something the Second had been trying to find since the twins joined their unit. And to Prowl's surprise and Sideswipe's infuriated anger, Sunstreaker told his adoptive parent the location.

Sideswipe didn't talk to Sunstreaker for three days after that, course he was confined to the brig. Not once did Sunstreaker go to see his twin and when Sideswipe learned of his brother's little 'glitch', he forgave the citrine menace with both fists. Thankfully Sunstreaker was able to defend himself, even calmly sending an alert to Prowl to give him an update on his brother's apparent need to 'knock some sense into him,' and had watched with smug satisfaction as Sideswipe was lead into the brig….. again. Jazz mentioned something about a new record and Sideswipe proceeded to abuse everyone's audios with obscenities.

Prowl was secretly thrilled to have a constant spy on the resident troublemaker. Sunstreaker gave regular updates and always politely asked his 'father' for course of action. That should have concerned the Second, but he was so elated with the positive results, it didn't register.

Sideswipe resented his traitorous brother. Prowl enjoyed the nearly stress free environment associated with twin antics. Prime and Ratchet were amused by the whole situation, the medic sometimes referring to the tactician as 'Pops.' Sunstreaker strutted around the base, proudly, thinking his father favored him over his twin. It was a nice change, though Prowl would rather sever a limb than admit it out loud.

Sideswipe had been foiled at every turn, no matter how well he planned or blackmailed others into his service. Sunstreaker always reported his adventures to Prowl and puffed like a peacock when publicly praised.

"Let me know if he's up to anything," Prowl said through the comm., though he knew Sunstreaker would anyway.

"Yes, Dad,"Sunstreaker answered cutting the connection. His voice had sounded a little strange, but Prowl passed it off as nothing important.

Prowl allowed a small smile. He could definitely get used to this. The smile was still in place a couple minutes later when a black and white frame slipped into the room, datapad in hand.

"Stop smirking. Looks unnatural on you," Jazz snorted, entering the tactician's office without knocking.

Prowl schooled his features, accepting the datapad Jazz offered. Jazz eyed his best friend carefully, trying to gauge his mood. He had noticed a trend developing lately with the other black and white. It usually involved someone who was now acting like a golden surveillance drone.

"You were talking to Sunstreaker, weren't you?"

"Why might you ask such a question?" Prowl asked, turning on the screen and seeing Jazz's barely understandable scribble.

"Because I've noticed lately that when you talk to our resident sociopath, you've been rather chipper."

"Chipper?"

"Well, more buoyant anyway. Just like you got new shocks and are bouncing along."

"I don't bounce."

"I disagree."

Prowl opened his mouth to argue, but his comm. crackled again.

"Dad, I had to hit Sideswipe."

"What did he do?"

"He tried to sneak out again, and when I tried to stop him, he punched me."

"So you hit him back?"

"You said I could."

"Yes, I did," Prowl gave Jazz an exasperated look, though the saboteur wasn't privy to the conversation on the private freq. "Where is he now?"

"Lying in the hall outside our quarters."Sunstreaker answered, not sounding remorseful. "I knocked his aft out."

Before Prowl could respond, the cacophony of klaxons went off. Red Alert's voice crackled over the intercom, giving updates to the latest Decepticon attack. Prime called for able soldiers, Ratchet snarled about inconvenience of attacks and how no one better sustain mortal wounds or he may not fix them this time. As Prowl and Jazz raced to the entrance of the Ark to join their comrades, Sunstreaker nearly ran them over in his exuberance.

"You're not on duty," Prowl barked as the soldiers assembled.

"I can do what I want on my down time." Sunstreaker answered, his circuits singing with the thought of battle. He'd been left out of the recent tussle due to his apparent mental 'issues', and he was itching to get back into the mix.

"But not to engage the enemy. That's against protocol." Prowl growled, giving the golden warrior a fifthly look.

"How I chose to spend my free time is up to me, correct?" Sunstreaker countered. Then offered a cheeky grin, "Prime needs as many soldiers as possible, so I'm just going along for back up."

"Stop fussing and roll out already," Ironhide snapped, pointing to the already transformed mechs who were starting to leave.

Prowl took after Prime and Jazz, Sunstreaker taking pace immediately behind him. Ironhide growled, but didn't voice his irritation. He usually kept pace behind Prime, the twins and other sporty models zipping out front to take point. It was odd Sunstreaker chose to remain behind Prime, who had to move at a much slower pace due to his bulk and trailer. Ironhide did notice the golden warrior stayed rather close to the tactician. The weapons master had an inkling and the thought almost made him laugh. No one could image reserved, stoic, strict Prowl being a creator. Why Sunstreaker chose to imprint on the tactician was a mystery.

The crew thought it a little strange as well. Some commented on the fact that the irrational behavior was a sign that the citrine twin had finally cracked. Smokescreen had reverted to his earlier profession of physiologist and pronounced the mech to be perfectly sane.

Course he still couldn't say why the anti-social menace was suddenly so polite and obeying all the rules, but it was a welcomed change all around. The crew got to know him better, his social skills vastly improved, and he stayed out of trouble, even volunteered to assist others in their work, performing all tasks and duties without Autobot complaints.

Well, Sideswipe complained. Constantly.

He insisted Sunstreaker was broken and several times demanded that Ratchet fix him.

No one could understand why he adopted Earth's lingo toward his perceived parent. Most of the time he referred to Prowl as "Dad", but when he was particularly bothered by something, he resorted to the Cybertronian idiom of "Creator." Several times Prowl got the distinct feeling the yellow Lamborghini wanted to say something, but for reasons unknown, Sunstreaker always held his vocalizer.

Which was a good thing, because Prowl wasn't comfortable with being someone's creator. His unexpected parentage already caused two processor crashes, and both times was to wake up with Sunstreaker's bedside vigil.

Jazz remarked that it was cute. Prowl thought it was creepy. Sideswipe, when he found out after being released from the brig, thought it proved his brothers metal illness. It all culminated into a huge fight in the medical ward that had Ratchet kick everyone out, then comm. Prime to announce his immediate retirement.

"Look out, Dad!" Sunstreaker yelled, transforming in a blur and launching himself at the incoming seekers.

The battle wasn't its normal stock footage type reel where the Autobots and Decepticons tussled, Megatron getting his aft handed to him by Prime. At first, the two ageless combatants grappled in their normal dance, exchanging blows and insults. Then something odd happened. Megatron overpowered Prime, sending the Autobot leader crashing into two of his soldiers. The others jumped to his defense, but Megatron knocked them aside like sparklings. He stalked toward his dazed rival, red optics glowing in triumph. No one noticed the in air collision between Starscream and Thundercracker. Skywarp had teleported away at the last possible second.

Prime's equilibrium recalibrated, his optics focusing just in time to see Megatron tower above him. Two groans behind him indicated the ones that cushioned his fall were still stunned.

Megatron's cannon leveled, his lines already singing in his impending victory. It was a long time coming, and he intended to savor every delicious second. His processor was charging, documenting his victory and the precise time the Decepticon's became victorious. The fall of the Autobots and the reign of the Decepticons.

Time slowed. The sounds of the battled faded away into ghosts. The two enemies stared into each others optics. The triumph, the pain, the struggle, the success, the elation, the regret, all mirrored and reflected, one in anguish, the other in delight.

And out of no where, a golden flash and time resumed its natural pace.

Sunstreaker jumped on Megatron's back, his feet connecting with the warlords lower back, staggering him and causing him to lose his only chance to end the long war. Megatron twisted right, then left, trying to get a hold on the menace now pounding along his head and neck. Sunstreaker was a seasoned warrior, and after so much practice, he was well adept to evading capture. It was convenient he was able to get the drop on the larger mech. Sunstreaker wasn't much of a shot, preferring to use his fists and do what comes naturally to his instinctual programming.

Fists flying, Sunstreaker shifted, keeping away from the warlords groping digits. The white metal dented, small fissures forming along the neck and shoulder. Sunstreaker concentrated all his malice on the largest crack in the armor, occasionally landing a blow to the back of the head to disorient his victim.

With vice like fingers, Sunstreaker wrenched the metal back. It peeled with a sickening screech, exposing cables and wires. Without thought, Sunstreaker buried his hand into the vitals displayed and began twisting. Megatron sputtered, the renting wires sending out spastic jerks. He hissed, twisting desperately, and felt the grim satisfaction of a wheeled ankle. He grabbed with his right hand, gripping hard enough to leave impressions and jerked hard.

Sunstreaker's hand was full of wires and one feebly twitching gear when he felt something grab his ankle. Knowing he was out of time, he buried his hand into the exposed left shoulder. When the force of his dislodging removed him from his perch, his hand was grasping cables, wires, and a tiny little black box that glowed faintly before going dark.

Megatron faltered, his systems fritzing as he threw the golden warrior from him. Sunstreaker landed in a heap, slow to get up, his systems protesting the brunt force of his landing. Dazed, Sunstreaker looked up just in time to see Megatron point his cannon.

A blinding flash, followed by the most intense pain Sunstreaker could remember and everything slowed to a halt. Sunstreaker stared numbly, unable to move, a thin curl of smoke issuing from the large gaping hole in his chest.

The simple act of discharging his cannon sent Megatron reeling. He stumbled, his damaged shoulder sending sparks cascading into a beautiful fireworks display. Soundwave grabbed his now injured leader as Starscream called for a retreat, one wing bent awkwardly.

"It's okay, Sunstreaker," Ratchet was saying, though Sunstreaker couldn't register the words or notice the worried tone. "Just relax and let me take care of you."

Those words alone should have alerted Sunstreaker to the extent of the damage, but nothing entered his frozen processor. He felt someone gently lower him to the ground and recognized Ratchet leaning over him, but the grim look the medic wore, the desperate tone of his comrades, the words being spoken, all seemed light years away.

"How bad, Ratchet?" Prime asked, though he had a notion due to the flickering light emanating from Sunstreaker's chest.

"Spark chamber's been breached," Ratchet rattled, his tone slightly frantic. His hands were flying over the wound, soldering off hemorrhaging lines, siphoning out volatile fluids, and trying to keep his patient alive. "Contaminants in his spark, which is causing a residual cascade failure. If I can't stabilize the cascade, we'll lose him."

"Just give the word, Ratchet," Jazz said, where he leaned against Prowl. Jazz's windshield was busted, his bumper crumpled, one arm bent awkwardly, red paint highlighting his monochromatic features. The Porsche had taken the brunt of his leader's impact when Megatron sent him flying. Bumblebee had cushioned Jazz's fall, but the little yellow scout was only disoriented and lightly scratched.

"We need to get him home," Ratchet said, his fingers extending into a welder. Without thought he removed a piece of his forearm armor and carefully placed it over the gaping hole in Sunstreaker's chest. "We need to get him to Sideswipe. He has the strongest spark and can filter the impurities and help Sunstreaker's spark to stabilize."

Sunstreaker remained motionless, staring blankly into the distance. It was very unnerving to see the golden warrior so peaceful and meek.

"I need to hook him to someone who can help regulate his systems," Ratchet explained, carefully soldering his armor into place. Had Sunstreaker been his usual self, he would have commented on the medical white clashing with his paint.

"I'll do it," Jazz said, forgetting about his own predicament.

"You can't," Ratchet said after a brief scan of the saboteur. "You're injured and have several compromised systems. It's not life threatening, but it could become so if you try to sustain another life."

Jazz started to protest, but Prowl cut across. "I can assist Sunstreaker. We have similar base designs."

Ratchet nodded, his processor already finding Prowl to be a compatible substitute. "He's stable for now. The sooner we get back to base, the better."

Prime transformed, his trailer opening to accept the injured. Prowl helped Ratchet carry Sunstreaker inside, where Ratchet opened ports along both warriors and connected the makeshift life support. Prowl hovered over the fallen warrior, his systems taking a few seconds to accept their new parameters. Jazz was ordered inside by Ironhide, who argued that since the Porsche was unable to transform, he would take forever to walk back to base. Jazz reluctantly agreed.

As soon as the trailer door closed, Sunstreaker gasped. A low whine issued from the dark.

"What have I done?" Sunstreaker's voice was a mere whisper in the dark. "I'm sorry. I'll do better. I promise."

Jazz turned on his only functioning headlight, illuminating the most intense moment he could ever remember. Sunstreaker was staring at the ceiling, his face a mask of worry, shame, regret, and fear. His frame lightly rattled from the tremors coursing through him. The two Commanding Officers had a feeling it had nothing to do with his physical injuries.

"I'll try to do better. I promise," Sunstreaker muttered the mantra repeatedly, his voice breaking with emotion.

Prowl grasped Sunstreaker's clutching hand in both of his own, his doorwings drawing down in a protective canopy. His face was set in its ever stoic poise, but Jazz could see by the dim lighting, that something was in Prowl's optics. Determination. Resolution. Absolution. Jazz was suddenly struck by an old Earth legend, and he never thought he'd see a true vision. Prowl's protectiveness, his resolve, his doorwings sweeping in an elegant arch, protecting an honorable soul that lay shattered in the darkness.

A true archangel to be feared.

"I'm sorry," Sunstreaker whispered again, not seeing reality but somewhere else entirely. Another place and time, long forgotten, except in moments of anguish, then they were just as fresh and raw as when they were first inflicted.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Prowl was saying, not liking the situation. Emotions weren't his forte, so the SIC tried to avoid them at all costs, especially ones that required delicate handling to protect innocent sparks from being shattered. One poorly worded thought, and the world could dissolve in a never-ending vortex of misery. For both parties involved, though usually Prowl crashed and was saved a lot of negative emotional feedback.

"Sorry," Sunstreaker muttered, his optics flickered.

"Don't fall into recharge," Prowl blurted, calibrating his systems to send a little extra charge to help boost the warrior's faltering systems. "Look at me, Sunstreaker."

The optics dimmed for a moment, then brightened, the extra charge taking effect. For the first time since his injury, Sunstreaker seemed to be able to focus. His optics rested on Prowl, staring at his black and white protector.

"Good. Keep your focus on me, Sunstreaker. I don't want you falling into charge until we can get back to base," Prowl said encouragingly. Recognition was in Sunstreaker's optics, and Prowl wanted to keep the frontliner conscious until they could get him to his twin.

Sunstreaker gazed up into the face hovering over him, his optics shuttering slowly. His face contorted into a sorrowful grimace, his vocalizer starting to fill with static.

"Are you proud of me?" Sunstreaker asked, his voice breaking.

Prowl was taken aback, unsure how to react, but before he rationalized the question, his vocalizer was already responding.

"I'm very proud of you. You've done well above my expectations."

"I have?" Sunstreaker voice was hard to distinguish from the static, but the look of pleading in his optics pushed the reluctant parent to continue.

"You have protected everyone at the risk of your own life. There is nothing more honorable than that."

"Proud…" Sunstreaker trailed off, his optics dimming as a smile spread across his face.

"Very proud," Prowl amended. "And I'm honored to be considered your creator."

"Creator…." Sunstreaker's smile faltered, an involuntary whimper escaping as his optics lowered. His voice crackled with static as he whimpered, "I don't want to be broken."

"You're not broken, just injured. Nothing Ratchet can't fix," Prowl said, not liking the readouts now scrolling across his HUD. Sunstreaker's vitals were starting to drop. "Stay with me, Sunstreaker."

"Can't…. fix…." Sunstreaker muttered, his optics flickering to darkness. "Broken… useless….." A small static filled cry echoed in the confines of the rolling tomb. His voice was distant, whispering. "I'm worthless….. junk."

"Sunstreaker?" Prowl yelled, squeezing the now slack hand in his grasp.

Jazz's remaining headlight gave a flicker, then cast the inside of the trailer into darkness. The only light now was from the two Commanding Officer's optics. One silently observing a rare moment, and unable to form the words to express the turbulent emotions now jockeying for position in his spark.

The other rallying to save a life that suddenly became a lot more precious.

Prime rolled straight into medbay, Ratchet already transformed and grabbing the safety locks on the back of the trailer. No one said a word. Every crew member stepped aside without complaint or irritation, sequestering themselves away from the medic as he fought to save a life.

Prowl carried Sunstreaker from the trailer, his steps ringing through the metal ward. Had Jazz been in a more jovial mood, he would have laughed that it was the first time he ever heard Prowl's footsteps, but the saboteur limped to a nearby berth with Ironhide's help, and the two kept a distant vigil.

Sideswipe was already rushing to the pair, his crimson hood splitting, exposing his spark chamber. Without Ratchet's order, he climbed on top the berth, hovering near the Datsun, who was sending vast amounts of energy into the downed Lamborghini to keep his systems stable. Prowl was visibly shaking, his doorwings vibrating with his efforts.

Ratchet wormed his hands between the two living life supports, and began the tedious task of removing the protective armor from the Sunstreaker's damaged spark chamber. As soon as it came free, Sideswipe joined his half spark to his brother's, a grinding hiss escaping him before he collapsed motionless on top his twin.

Prowl tried to protest, but Ratchet began removing the leads that kept the tactician linked to the downed warrior. Prowl staggered, finally free of the physical burden of sustaining another life, and felt someone wrap their arms around him to lead him to a berth. Without knowing who his support was, he collapsed, his systems shutting down for recalibration and repairs. His last fleeting thought was of his twins and a silent prayer to Primus that he didn't lose them.

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What's going to happen?

Frosted Lamborghinis to those who guess correctly!

As always, any thoughts or con-crit is welcomed. I take everything into consideration and don't dismiss any advice

And since the last two chapters received rather scanty reviews, I'm sending out a call to all of those who wish to see this series continue. Even if you just write in 'Yes, please. I enjoy these stories" then I will continue to write and update. However, since lately I cant seem to entertain the masses, then I should quit while I'm ahead. If I don't get a positive response, then I'll upload the last two that I have and not finish the other dozen or so that I've been working on. I'm trying to focus my attention on what the readers want to 'see'.

Not to mention, its slagging HARD to think of new titles with the twins' names and THEN figure out stories to blend them together and NOT be repetitious. I want to write out things that are fresh, new, and entertaining, and hopefully, something that you didn't see coming.

That takes a lot of concentration and thought, two things I sometimes lack.

I don't want to be boring or repetitive and make the readers think, "Oh, its another one of THOSE fics". So between this chapter and the next (and the little short after), let me know if I should continue, or if I've had a good run and should call it a day.

Either way it has been a pleasure.