Outside In
Oh my gosh! I had NO IDEA so many people enjoyed these little stories. I'm just… overwhelmed. First of all, that was the most reviews I think I have EVER gotten, and needless to say, it not only flattered and tickled me pink, but flustered me as well. My muse could NOT stop talking and helped me to get through a couple more 'snippets'. Wow! Thank you so much!
THANK YOU to my loyal reviewers: Starfire201, Lambor Terror Lep, cmdrtekk, CRAZY little Dragon, young, CaMaRoFaN14, and Blitz-Krazi-1.
HUGE THANK YOU AND WELCOME to new reviewers (so awesome to hear from new readers!): transformationsgirl, lokkish, Nightlightbee, Nek0Nek0, DawnnsGrace, Skittles the Sugar Fairy, SEZwho94, Blood Shifter2, SilverRayan, and xXNovenusPrimeXx, Lolin' Girl
Because of ya'll's encouragement and wonderful reviews, I have decided to post the second half of the cliffie (sorry CRAZY little dragon!) and I hope you enjoy it.
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"Shouldn't you be in the brig?" Prowl asked without looking up from his datapad.
Sideswipe gave a half shrug, planting himself on the opposite side of the tactician, his optics fixed on the unmoving form between them on the berth. "One of Wheeljack's explosions took out half the brig, causing a short circuit. Bars went down, so I just walked out."
Prowl finished his report and placed the pad on the finished pile and turned to the ruby Lamborghini. "You're still in trouble."
Sideswipe glanced to the Second before returning his attention back to his brother. "I know. I'll go back when Wheeljack fixes what he broke."
Prowl felt his spark clench. He regretted having to send the frontliner to the brig, but after he stabilized Sunstreaker's spark, he refused to leave his brother's side, constantly getting in Ratchet's way as he worked. Sideswipe's vehemence started with a heated shouting match that rapidly escaladed into violence. Sideswipe was advancing and Ratchet was deadly with tools, but if the two came to hand to hand combat, Ratchet would lose. Badly.
With other alternative, Prowl ordered the frontliner to the brig. A decision he despised making, knowing Sideswipe was only venting his worry and frustration in the only way he knew how. He had no control, both emotionally and physically. He could easily hurt Ratchet, or worse. That was a scenario the Second wasn't willing to facilitate. It took the combined force of Prime, Ironhide, Prowl, and Jazz's sneaky fighting maneuvers to subdue him for incarceration.
Ratchet had stormed to his office and slammed the door so hard; the tools along the workbench had jumped from their places. It was rare the CMO displayed such anger, but his worry over Sunstreaker and Sideswipe's constant interference had worked their way under his armor and irritated him to violence.
And for once, Prowl didn't lecture either on their behavior. He remained stationed by Sunstreaker's side, performing his duties as he normally would, though using a spare berth as his desk. Jazz came and went, sometimes sitting with the two and working on his own reports in companionable silence. A task that Prowl would have thought impossible of the fidgety Special Ops Commander.
"Why won't he wake up?" Sideswipe asked softly, startling Prowl out of his thoughts.
"Ratchet said the trauma was enough to send him into stasis and is reluctant to use stimulants," Prowl said, knowing that Sideswipe had heard the explanation before. The information just didn't seem to be able to sink in. He guessed it was the constant strain of having an unanswered bond.
Sideswipe carefully folded Sunstreaker's hand in his own, staring at the face that always seemed to display a scowl. It was sad that such a beautiful face could warp into something so cruel and vicious. Yet, here it was, peaceful in slumber and angelically perfect.
And so silent.
There was no reaction to touch. No emotional displays, or hissing protests. No inkling through the bond. Sideswipe felt his spark falter, its summons unanswered by its other half that was so close, yet so far away. When he had merged his life to his brother's, the pain had been overwhelming. He didn't remember losing consciousness, or the disconnection of their bodies. The only thing he remembered was waking up staring at an orange ceiling and a cold emptiness where his spark should be.
He felt so alone.
The sensation had been enough to send the frontliner into action, which now that he had time to think about, wasn't exactly the smartest thing to do. His brother needed him close by, and though he was loathe to admit it, he needed visual confirmation of his twin. He couldn't be sure if Sunstreaker still lived, the constant presence in his spark and mind had been silenced. So now, all he had, was the visual reassurance that life still resided in the golden frame. And it terrified him.
Prowl's comm. beeped and after a minute, he spoke to Sideswipe. "Brig's fixed." Sideswipe gave a small nod in acceptance, but rising in slow motion, his optics fixed on his brother's visage, Prowl added, "If you promise to control your emotions, you may stay."
"Promise," Sideswipe said without thought, dropping back down onto his seat with a clang. He gave a sheepish look to the Second. "Sorry about earlier. I was an idiot."
"You are just worried about your brother," Prowl responded.
"I can't feel him," Sideswipe admitted, a grievous look gracing his face. "I can always feel him, even when we recharge. But now… nothing."
"Ratchet said it was due to his injuries," Prowl said, suddenly very aware of how scary it must be for Sideswipe to not feel his twin. Solitude didn't sit well with the ruby warrior. "He's in deep stasis until his systems sense his healing repairs. Then his processor will recognize his repaired body and release his subconscious from retreatment."
Sideswipe nodded, knowing that the injury to the spark was the worst that could be sustained. Their very essence pulsed within that brilliant light, and when it was threatened, the body naturally shut itself down as a matter of self-preservation. He had felt his brother's retreat as they merged, but the pain was so overwhelming it scrambled his CPU for some time. Part of his earlier retaliation had been due to disorientation.
The two lapsed into companionable silence for awhile, until Ratchet stalked out of his office. He took a couple of steps, then glared at the two stationed beside his only patient.
"What is this, a convention?" he asked gruffly, pushing past Sideswipe who had fallen into recharge beside of his twin.
Sideswipe awoke with a start, grunting as Ratchet dislodged the hold he had on his twin. His hand went to his chest and started to rub, his scowl a perfect imitation of Sunstreaker's.
"Is your spark hurting?" Prowl asked, noticing the ruby warriors actions.
Sideswipe shook his head, his expression going from irritated aggression to relief. "No, burning. It means Sunny is starting to come round."
Prowl looked to Ratchet and sure enough, Ratchet gave a nod of affirmation.
"His systems are repairing the damage," Ratchet supplied, checking over the leads and finding his patient in optimal recovery. "Give him another day or so and he'll be up and about, making everyone just as miserable as himself."
Sideswipe glared.
"You're professionalism is exemplary but your bedside manner is rudimentary at best," Prowl commented in his dry monotone.
It was Ratchet's turn to scowl. "Do you want to be my personal guest and get first hand experience on how 'professional' I can be?" A wrench appeared as an unspoken promise.
Sideswipe gulped, looking to Prowl, expecting to see him cringe like the rest of the crew. However, Prowl merely blinked lazy optics and nodded toward Sunstreaker, "Recovery time?"
"He should be awake within the next twelve to twenty-four hours," Ratchet said, hefting his favorite wrench, though he knew Prowl wasn't intimidated by medicinal iron. "Depending on how fast he assimilates the new materials and he doesn't do anything stupid to rupture a weld."
"Approximate time for recovery?" Prowl prompted, unperturbed.
"Depends on how long we can keep him inactive, but I'm guessing about a week," Ratchet said, stowing his wrench away as its effect was disappointing. He knew that Prowl was busy adjusting duty rosters and was trying to formulate the best possible schedule. There was a small part of him that wondered if the tactician wasn't hiding ulterior motives. Had he not known Prowl, he would have guessed his actions benefiting to those of a worried parent and not of a commanding officer.
"Understood," Prowl said, and began typing on a datapad. Without looking up he added, "Sideswipe, I will need you to cover Hound's patrol this evening so he can perform monitor duty tonight."
"Will do," Sideswipe said, feeling the burning ache in his chest that signaled Sunstreaker was broadcasting along the bond. It felt good to have him back.
"And you will have to cover patrols tomorrow," Prowl said, then looked to the loudly whining frontliner. "I augmented your schedule so you can exercise your circuits. If you wish to do monitor duty instead, then by all means, maintain that annoying whine."
Sideswipe stilled, glaring at the SIC. With a spastic jerk of his head he agreed to the new shifts, Prowl's typing fingers only fueling his annoyance with the black and white. But if he had to do extra duties, then racing along the streets wasn't as bad and staring at monitors for hours on end. How Red Alert did it was anyone's guess. Sideswipe would have went mad within a day.
"I suggest you get some charge before shift," Prowl said, nodding toward the door.
Sideswipe sighed, slumped his shoulders and walked dejectedly through the door. When he disappeared, Ratchet chuckled, earning Prowl's inquisitive look.
"I know why Sunstreaker imprinted on you,' Ratchet smiled, barely able to contain his laughter. "You're more of a creator than you realize."
Prowl puffed his doorwings and arched his olfactory sensor into the air in a superior look that would have made Mirage proud. "I fail to see the similarities and I would appreciate you to refrain from conjecture. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have roster changes that need to be distributed."
"Of course," Ratchet said, embellishing the dismissive wave of his hand. He knew that Prowl could easily comm. the affected members of the roster changes. "I shall see you in the morning?"
Prowl's huffed vent was his answer. Ratchet waited until the SIC disappeared through the doors before laughing, turning to the unconscious Sunstreaker and adding, "Hurry up and get well, Menace. I don't like drama in my med bay."
Belaying his aggressive statement, Ratchet checked on Sunstreaker's vitals one last time, gentle in his demeanor, before going to his office to down some hidden high grade and finish his latest inventory lists for the supply run later that week.
Prowl entered the medical ward the next morning to find a tempest in full force.
"Lie down and shut up!" Ratchet snapped, struggling with a golden tornado that wanted nothing more than to escape his confinement. "Do I have to get rough?"
Ratchet had been startled when Sunstreaker had grabbed his probing hand while examining the weld mark across Sunstreaker's chest. Not expecting his patient to be cognizant, Ratchet was surprised when Sunstreaker pushed his hand away and tried to pull himself off the berth. Pain had made him wither, but Ratchet's furious shouting had only incensed the frontliner further. Now he really wanted to get out of the medical ward, preferably after he inflicted some sort of retribution to the one poking his sore body.
"Oh, and this is gentle medical care?" Sunstreaker retorted, snarling when Ratchet's hand brushed against a tender weld along his chest.
"Don't make me terminate you!" Ratchet yelled, pinching a wire that he knew was sensitive in the golden frame.
Sunstreaker let out a howl, and reluctantly fell back on the berth, his optics near white with rage. "You'll pay for that."
"I already have," Ratchet said without making optic contact. "Want to guess how many hours it took me to put you together and keep your miserable plating alive?"
Sunstreaker frowned, trying to remember the incident that brought him to Ratchet's acidic care. "I only fell through a building. I've done it before. Recovery didn't take quite as long," he gave a smug sneer to his captor; "You must be losing your touch!"
His answer was a resounding clang in his audios as Ratchet delivered a dose of metal medicine, though it was a rather small measure compared to his normal dosage. Any further arguments were interrupted when Prowl spoke.
"How is he?" he asked without preamble.
"Back to normal, I'm sorry to say," Ratchet said, giving Sunstreaker a look that could melt titanium. His expression softened when he turned to the tactician. "He doesn't remember the past two weeks. He keeps thinking his injuries were caused from falling through a roof." He let out an exasperated huff directed toward the now pacifistic twin. "Doesn't believe me about taking on Megatron and nearly getting terminated in the process."
"Glitch," Sunstreaker muttered darkly.
"You don't remember anything?" Prowl asked, and for once, his usual passive manner was dropped. Surprise registered on his face as he stared at Sunstreaker. "Anything at all?"
"I remember riding Skywarp," Sunstreaker said, his lip curling in distaste, "Not that he was a good ride, but he somehow managed to lose me and I fell into a building. I think it was the mall."
"That was nearly three weeks ago," Prowl amended, watching for some sign of comprehension. A battle waged on Sunstreaker's face before he finally settled on scowling in disbelief. Prowl added, "Megatron overpowered Prime and you attacked him, saving Prime's life, along with Jazz and Bumblebee."
"Your spark chamber was damaged, but Prowl was able to keep you stable until we could return to base, where Sideswipe initiated a merge and stabilized your spark. You've been in stasis for four days until you could assimilate the new materials." Ratchet brandished a wrench as he spoke.
Sunstreaker gazed down at his chest, scowling deeper when he noticed the pewter marks across his pristine paint. "It's horrible."
"It nearly ended your life," Prowl said, fighting the urge to strangle the frontliner, and yet, that part of him that became a creator, wanted to hold his adoptive child and protect him from the cruelty of life. His processor started to burn. Not a good sign. There was a high probability there was crash in his near future. "The wounds will heal, given time and patience."
"I meant my paint," Sunstreaker snarled, giving Prowl a long suffering look. "I clash!"
"You'll survive," Ratchet intoned, rolling his optics. Definitely the old Sunstreaker. He shook his head at the stupidity of his comrades and went to his office, slamming the door amid a shower of curses.
"I'd rather be terminated!" Sunstreaker shouted to where Ratchet had disappeared, then recoiled as Prowl stalked toward him, optics shining like a maniac.
"Don't you dare say that!" Prowl growled, his engine revving in his anger. "Never again! Understand?"
Sunstreaker regained some of his attitude, his own optics flaring with his temper. "I'd rather terminate than be seen like this! This is unacceptable!"
Prowl inched closer, barreling down on his prey with every intention of making the golden warrior rethink his declaration. Sunstreaker's notorious temper was forgotten, his reputation, meaningless, as he was overshadowed by a raging Praxian. Prowl was bracketing Sunstreaker before he realized he had him cornered. Sunstreaker twitched at the proximity, feeling the SIC's EM field brush his own. An angered inferno raked across his plating, near melting his systems as Prowl hovered, seething from every line. Sunstreaker felt his tanks drop. He never realized Prowl could become so terrifying. Whatever had the tactician on edge, didn't bode well for Sunstreaker's continued health.
"I would rather have you mismatched than terminated, and I don't appreciate you treating your life with such callous disregard. If you think so lowly of your worth, then I will forbid you to engage the Decepticons in the future." Prowl ground out, his optics boring into Sunstreaker's own.
"You wouldn't dare," Sunstreaker half hissed, half snarled, trying to find his vehemence to retaliate. He really didn't like this new Prowl. It made his plating burn.
"Try me," Prowl growled. His hands were braced on either side of Sunstreaker's head, his door wings expanded to their fullest extent in ritualistic display. Smokescreen would have had a field day with the implications to the two oblivious mechs.
"Why do you care?" Sunstreaker asked, though his voice lost most of its venom. Now it sounded diminutive, and slightly frightened.
"I care about yo…. every one of the Autobot forces," Prowl said, trying to cover his blunder of wanting to say he cared what happened to Sunstreaker. He had already suffered two processor crashes with trying to figure out how and why he reversed imprinted and thought Sunstreaker was his sparkling. The ludicrous scenario had plagued the Praxian's processor until he crashed, waking both times to a fuming Ratchet who whacked him a few times to instill a sense of 'balance and knock the fragging cogs back into alignment.' He was not looking forward to more helm aches and impacts."I will do what I must to preserve the lives of those who mean the most."
"I'm a front line warrior," Sunstreaker said, glaring at Prowl as if seeing him for the first time. "I'm your first line of defense. What are you going to do? Tell Prime he can't send me out because you don't want me to get hurt? Tough!" Sunstreaker gave an obstinate glare in challenge. Acting like a true enraged adolescent. Prowl had to stifle the riling of his door wings in annoyance.
"I can find any protocol to fit this situation," Prowl warned. "You forget who you are talking to."
"No, its you who forgets," Sunstreaker retaliated, pulling himself up into a full sitting position in defiance, pursing his lip plating. His tense frame suggested he was in pain from the maneuver. "I do my job. As do you. And I suggest you formulate your plans and leave the fighting to those of us who are adept at it."
"Fighting is not the only thing that you excel in," Prowl said, trying to find good qualities to define Sunstreaker. It was rather difficult. He wasn't the easiest of mechs to get along with. "You have value in other aspects."
"I'm just a soldier," Sunstreaker said, his scowl trying to reassert itself, but other emotions kept blocking its attempts. He looked like he was trying to convince himself and not his superior officer. "My position means I'm expendable. Worthless. I'm only here to ensure the rest of you can make it to safety."
"You just aren't some worthless soldier meant to be sacrificed for fodder and then forgotten," Prowl said, his tone neutral, but Sunstreaker could have sworn there was more. Something he couldn't identify. "Your life is just as important as anyone else, and I refuse to allow you to think of yourself so poorly."
"Why do you care?" Sunstreaker asked, still feeling the underlying current tug at his processor. It was bothering him with its incessant, taunting nature. It was like an overemotional Sideswipe residing in his mind. "It's not like I'm Prime. I'm not important to the cause. The Autobots wouldn't be devastated if I terminated. They avoid me like cosmic rust! Pit, most of them would probably celebrate my termination."
"Only because you keep a wall around yourself and don't let others past your defenses," Prowl said.
Sunstreaker quirked a brow ridge and sneered, "Speaking for yourself?"
Prowl flinched but didn't waver. "I mean it, Sunstreaker. You hold value, not only to your twin, but to the Autobots."
"Really?" Sunstreaker asked in true skeptic fashion. His arms were crossed, though Prowl noted the trembling of the frame. Sunstreaker was overtaxing himself just by sitting up. Defiant until the last reserve of strength failed. Prowl admired that.
"Your methods are careless and could use some fine tuning, but your motives are sincere," Prowl said, ignoring the irate glare at mentioning Sunstreaker's reckless behavior. "But you are important. We would be lost without you, and that is something I fear we could never recover from."
Sunstreaker snorted, doubting Prowl's state of processor. The stoic SIC never spoke about such things. He must have taken a hit and Ratchet missed something on his scans. "They'd miss Sideswipe," Sunstreaker said with a touch of sullenness in his voice. And was that a hint of grief? "No one would ever miss me."
"They would miss you when they realized how much you sacrifice to keep them safe and the suffering you endure to ensure everyone returns home," Prowl said, his tone soft. He never really thought about it, but the twins kept the Autobot forces strong and ensured their survival.
"You are far more valuable than what you realize, Sunstreaker," Prowl added. He noticed that Sunstreaker was now visibly shaking, either from emotion or physical strain, he couldn't tell. But the golden warrior was displaying a rare moment of weakness. "Though others may not know it or acknowledge it, I am aware of the danger and it chills my spark to think that one day, you may not return home."
Prowl paused for a second, letting his words sink in.
"Bear that in mind the next time you feel as if you are just some random soldier to be discarded." He looked Sunstreaker straight in the optic, his voice pouring forth before his processor could catch up to his words. He didn't know where the well of sentiment was springing from, but something in the back of his processor told him that this needed to be said. The desperate pleas for forgiveness and absolution in the darkness of Prime's trailer came to the forefront of his processor and haunted his charge more often than he cared to admit.
Sunstreaker's expression was one of shock and confusion. He frowned, unsure what to make of the SIC and his meaning. When Prowl spoke again, Sunstreaker couldn't stop the wave of sadness and despair wash over his features. He was shaking so hard, he was surprised the berth wasn't rattling.
"You are important, Sunstreaker. You matter. To the Autobots, to your brother, to me," Prowl added, feeling uncomfortable and yet, righteous. It was a very odd conundrum and one that was surely going to crash his processor later when he reviewed the conversation. He was due for a few more hits to the helm curtsey of an irate medic.
"Don't ever think yourself worthless. You are not and never will be, 'junk'. Whoever put that foolish idea into your processor was merely trying to hide their own imperfections by placing such things in your mind. Think no more on them. You are not broken and have the admiration of many who look to you for their protection. Your dedication is a sign of strength and admirable qualities that make your comrades respect you."
Prowl nodded toward Ratchet's closed door and added, "I should go and allow you to get some rest before Ratchet decides to inflict his own brand of justice upon my helm. He is already irate with me for using one of the berths as my desk for the past few days."
Sunstreaker glanced to the mentioned medical berth and noticed that there were a few data pads on it. There was also a small stool Ratchet used to roll around on between patient beds.
Prowl grabbed the piled datapads and offered a brisk nod before turning to leave. Sunstreaker's voice was barely audible, but Prowl heard it nonetheless.
"Thanks….dad," Sunstreaker said feeling something inside his spark warm with a strange flame.
Prowl glanced over his shoulder and gave a slight nod to the golden warrior before taking his leave. Sunstreaker settled onto the berth and stared at the ceiling, feeling something warm his soul. It took a moment but he was able to define it.
It was closure and the peace that comes from a spark healing from harsh wounds inflicted long ago.
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Reviews fuel the muse and wonderful things happen. I mean, you're collected voices have given me renewed strength in continuing this story. IN fact, because of all the fantastic reviews, I should be uploading another chapter of "Lost Voices" and MAYBE another chapter of this story.
So, hit that little button and let me know what you think. Your favorite part? Favorite line? Anything! I like to know what I'm doing right/wrong and feedback/criticism is always welcomed.
PJ
