A GLIMMER OF SUNLIGHT
An: THANK YOU to: BLITZ-KRAZI-1, WANDERLING, BLUEBIRD SOARING,STARFIRE201, SEZWHO94, STARLITDAWN, KIMMIE98, PROWLS-LITTLE-ANGEL- LOVELY RAIN DANCER, ELITA-2, AURA BLACK CHAN, LADY-NEBKHAT, GUEST, AND LAMBOR TERROR LEP.
Love to all!
{{{000-IIIII-OOOOO}}} {{{000-IIIII-OOOOO}}}
Wheeljack hummed to himself as he worked. It had been at least a month since he was able to get a project finished. The Cons had been abnormally active for the past few weeks, prompting the inventor to shunt his projects aside in favor in assisting Ratchet in the medical bay. Soft whistling drew his attention to the door, where a flash of red sauntered inside.
"Sideswipe," Wheeljack greeted, glancing up. His head fins flashed a bluish-green.
"I'm here for my sentence," Sideswipe informed the inventor, plopping his frame onto a stool next to the workbench.
"It's not a sentence," Wheeljack chided, a soldering iron casting his cheery visage in a soft ember. "It's either you serve your punishment detail with me, or with Ratchet, and I believe Ratchet is in a foul mood."
"Tell me about it," Sideswipe groused, grabbing a scrap piece of metal off the workbench and twiddling it between his fingers. "I swear, his EM field is so chaotic, it make Sunny's seem like a calm lake."
Wheeljack smirked at the comparative. Ratchet had been rather hostile as of late. Moreso than usual anyway. Wheeljack was debating on whether or not to bring it to the medic's attention. He decided to wait until he was repaired from whatever self inflicted explosive malady sent him to the medical ward next time. Ratchet was less abusive of him while he was recovering. When he was fully healed though, rehabilitation took a little longer due to Ratchet's temper.
"Don't touch that," Wheeljack called.
Sideswipe's servo returned to his body where it was trying to ascertain a cool looking device sitting on the back of the workbench.
"So, what do you want me to do?" Sideswipe asked, looking around the assorted junk.
"You can categorize parts according to the bins," Wheeljack said, nodding toward the assortment of multi-colored trays that graced the top of the work station. Each one was labeled with different parts and categorized by size.
"This junk?" Sideswipe said, motioning toward the piled tables. "I can't tell what to keep and what to toss!"
"All of it is be kept," Wheeljack said and sent the frontliner a databurst of his full assignment.
Sideswipe groaned, knowing it was going to take him hours to clear off at least one table of the clutter. And knowing Wheeljack, the table would be back to messy order tomorrow. Wheeljack couldn't keep any area clean for long. His own quarters was labeled a hazardous zone by Ratchet eons ago. No one dared to go near that section of ship except the medical officer, and that was only under direct armed guard.
"Fine," Sideswipe sighed, grabbing several bolts and finding their assigned bins labeled on the wall. He dropped them into the black box marked with the appropriate sizes and instead of hearing the metallic clink of metal striking, the plastic bin offered a dull thud. Sideswipe pulled the small plastic bins out and tipped them forward, searching for their labeled contents.
All were empty.
Figures.
Leave it to Wheeljack to make a mess and then request help in putting his work station back in order so he could mess it up again.
Three hours later and Sideswipe had made progress. Two of the bins for nuts and bolts had been filed to capacity and Sideswipe had to find an available container to put the spare, labeled with contents and size of course. He rolled his optics wondering how long Wheeljack could go adhering to his own labels before everything became a jumbled mess again. Probably not more than twenty-four hours.
Assorted screws were placed in orange bins. They were soon joined by burnt circuit boards in red, chips in green, small cylinder shaped things Sideswipe didn't know the function of in the white, and for some odd reason, two inch stripes of burnt copper wiring that went into blue. Why the inventor needed to keep burnt wires was a mystery. It was better not to dwell on such things. Sideswipe could crash his processor.
With the clearing of the assorted junk, Sideswipe could now see the object that had first gathered his interest so many hours before. It was squat, silver, with a lot of intriguing, must-be-pushed buttons. He looked at the device, which hummed softly in song, a little green light blinking every ninety seconds.
Sideswipe's helm cocked to the side, watching the light with childlike fascination. He reached for the appliance again before being halted by a watchful Wheeljack.
"Sideswipe. Don't touch," Wheeljack said, going to one of the newly assorted bins and dumping its contents onto the counter, picking out a handful of needed screws, then leaving the mess behind.
Sideswipe now knew how the place got so messy. Wheeljack was almost as bad as himself. Course, Sideswipe never blew himself up. Well, almost never.
"Work on the next table, please," Wheeljack called, bending to task of securing a piece of metal over the innards of what he was working on.
Sideswipe sighed and went back to work. Another hour passed, this time the ruby mech finding a mess that made his plating stand up on end. There were pieces of what looked like spark chambers and main processors. Those were parts that were normally reserved for medical staff, seeing how they had need for such items to save someone's life. To see such things in the inventors workshop was unnerving.
Such devices in the hands of a crazed, mechanical genius meant that bad things happened. Sideswipe would know. He and Sunstreaker had a nasty encounter with a mech who not only liked to experiment in fields that made the spark falter, but he was especially interested in the twins own unusual lives. The 'tests' the two endured still haunted charging hours, and the marks left by the mech had not only imprinted on their psyches but their frames as well. Sunstreaker had a particularly nasty mark on his body courtesy of the vile scientist. Its meaning so repugnant, Ratchet had purged his tank when he first discovered its existence.
Second workbench cleared and Sideswipe looked over to the first bench, noting that a third of its surface was covered in junk once again. Wheeljack needed a full service maid, not a front line warrior who picked up after him like a dotting creator. Sideswipe sighed and walked to where the inventor was bent over his latest project. His focus was intent upon a circuit board so small; Sideswipe had to use his focusing lenses to see it in detail.
Wheeljack remained ignorant to his presence. Sideswipe waited, tapping his pede in a soft rhythm. When Wheeljack made no motion to acknowledge him, Sideswipe went back to the first bench and began clearing its surface once again.
The little squat device blinked green, the color of 'GO' in Lamborghini language. Sideswipe couldn't help himself. He reached for the buttons, just to touch one. The red one looked promising and it matched his paint scheme. It wasn't a coincidence in his mind.
"Sideswipe, don't touch," Wheeljack said without looking up from his project. "It's not for you to play with."
"But it matches my paint," Sideswipe said, sounding so much like Sunstreaker it caused Wheeljack to pause. He looked up to see Sideswipe's outstretched digit nearing its target.
"Sideswipe! I'm warning you!" Wheeljack called.
"Yeah yeah, and we all know how well THAT works out," Sideswipe said, touching the little red button.
"Don't!" Wheeljack yelled, taking one step from his current project toward the red Lamborghini. He didn't make it in time.
BOOM
Sideswipe's world exploded into a super nova of color and thunder. He landed in a dazed heap against the work station that held Wheeljack's current project. The new device offered a little shake of its parts before falling silent. The contraption Sideswipe touched emitted a few feeble beeps before going dormant.
'Wheeljack to Ratchet!' the inventor called on his private link to the medic. 'Emergency in my lab. Sideswipe touched something he shouldn't and it just knocked him senseless.'
'He's already senseless,' Ratchet retaliated, but headed toward his favorite destination. 'Maybe some sense got knocked into him for a change?'
'He's unresponsive,' Wheeljack reported, his limited scanners employed, searching for damage. 'Spark pulse is erratic. His optics are half shuddered and unfocused. He isn't responding to his name.'
Ratchet entered the lab at that moment and without word, knelt down in front of the ruby mech. He extended two hardline connections and brought up Sideswipe's internal displays, checking over his systems for damage. Most systems registered the normal parameters. A couple did not. The main system that was askew was Sideswipe's memory files. The second file was a redundant system used on a subconscious level. It was the part that rationalized life, existence, time of day/night, interpreted between past memories and present reality.
Sideswipe's helm lulled and Ratchet let out a growling oath that made Wheeljack rock back on his haunches. There was a sizable dent in Sideswipe's helm where he had impacted the leg of the table. Being anchored into place, the table acted like a stanchion, immediately halted the warrior's unexpected flight across the room.
A soft chirping noise escaped Sideswipe's vocalizer as he started to blink in slow motion. It took a few moments for his optics to regain their focus and when they did, they found a concerned Ratchet hovering over him.
"Ratchet?" Sideswipe asked, his voice coming out slurred and heavy.
"Yes, Sideswipe. How are you feeling?" Ratchet asked, his medical overrides already instating new parameters to assist Sideswipe's patch program in putting his processor back in order.
"Tired," Sideswipe said, exhaling a heavy exhaust. "I thought we'd never make it."
Ratchet and Wheeljack exchanged a look. Ratchet turned back to his patient and asked, "Sideswipe, do you know where you are?"
Sideswipe's head lulled to the side and with a tired whine to his hydraulics, he said, "Looks like the science lab in Iacon." He gave his helm a little shake, which only made his dizziness get worse. He groaned, doubling over and grasping his helm while he balanced his elbows on his knees. "Primus, what did I have to drink last night?"
"You touched something you shouldn't have and it exploded," Ratchet explained, before Wheeljack interrupted.
"Actually, it did what it was supposed to do," Wheeljack said, earning a hard, cold stare from Ratchet. He looked away in sheepishness, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.
"Sideswipe, we are on Earth. We crashed here four million years ago and was in stasis until the volcano erupted and reactivated our systems," Ratchet said, watching Sideswipe's face for signs of recognition.
"Oh…" Sideswipe frowned, his processor trying to decipher all the input. He let out a gust of air and added, "Oh yeah. Cons made us crash. They always make us crash. Last week, in Kaon, we had four transports to go down and…"
"Sideswipe!" Ratchet snapped, drawing the Lamborghini out of his dazed recollection. "Stop babbling. You sound like Bluestreak!"
"Who?" Sideswipe asked.
Ratchet sighed at Sideswipe's curious expression.
"Never mind. You're off active duty for awhile," Ratchet said, watching Sideswipe frown at the command. While Sideswipe tried to understand what his 'active duty' entailed, Ratchet opened a comm.. 'Ratchet to Prowl.'
'Prowl here, go ahead.'
'Sideswipe just knocked his screws loose in Wheeljack's lab,' Ratchet said, watching as Sideswipe looked to Wheeljack and asked for his designation. 'I'm putting him on medical leave.'
'How long?' Prowl asked, already formulating a change in schedules.
'Three days to start,' Ratchet said, sighing to himself. 'I'll reevaluate him then and we can go from there.'
'Understood. Sideswipe has been removed from the duty roster and is under medical supervision,' Prowl said before cutting the connection.
"Let's get you to med bay," Ratchet said, helping Wheeljack pull Sideswipe to his pedes. The front liner swayed a little before following Ratchet out the door.
As Ratchet crossed the threshold he looked over his shoulder and added, "And you better have an explanation to that contraption that did this or so help me, I'll weld your trouble making aft to the laboratory door!"
Wheeljack gulped in fear and picked up the now dormant device. He followed Ratchet out, explaining the new device as just being a prototype for a new children's toy. Knowing that all beings, regardless of origin, were drawn to buttons, he had created a device that catered to such base-line programming. But there was a little glitch in the system.
Sideswipe sat through Ratchet's evaluation and extensive exam before being released. Ratchet gave the confused warrior a layout of the ARK and surrounding area, though Sideswipe was not allowed further than one hundred yards from the ARK. Not only was it for his safety, but for the other Autobots and humans as well. Sideswipe didn't know what a human was, and just as a precaution, he was given a datapacket by Ratchet with full, current explanations. Sideswipe took it all in stride, like always, but there were moments when he sat in confused silence, until passing the incident off as being a residual effect of his overcharge. He was dismissed from med bay with orders to return to his quarters and await his brother. Ratchet was hoping that Sunstreaker could help his brother remember what happened, but the golden mech was currently on a scouting mission with Bluestreak, and the duo weren't due back for another five hours.
An hour after Sideswipe was dismissed from medbay, Smokescreen was walking toward his quarters when he heard the noise. It sounded soft, feeble, and tore directly into the Praxian's spark. He zeroed in on the sound and grasped the handle to a little used supply closet. He opened the door and immediately felt his spark seize.
Sideswipe lay curled up into a small, whimpering ball. When the door opened he recoiled, trying to draw himself into a tighter ball, his body shaking with muffled sobs.
"Sideswipe?" Smokescreen said, stepping into the closet. Without thought he pulled the crying warrior against him and began to rock him as one would a distraught child.
Sideswipe clung to the warmth of the body holding him. His sobs increased, his trembling frame causing Smokescreen's to rattle.
"What's wrong?" Smokescreen asked, caressing the helm tucked against his neck with parental affection. "What happened?"
"It wasn't my fault," Sideswipe muttered between whimpers. "I didn't mean to."
"Do what?" Smokescreen asked, now rocking the mech cradled against him. Smokescreen felt his spark soar, feeling like a creator all over again. It had been a long time since he felt such strong emotional attachment.
"I deserve my punishment," Sideswipe said, his vocalizer buzzing with static as he tried to gather strength for whatever punishment that was to befall him. "I'm bad. I'm broken. I shouldn't be alive."
Smokescreen wanted to beat the slag out of whoever had told the Lamborghini such a thing. He was about to ask the bots designation, but Sideswipe's next words stole his inner strength.
"I deserve to be terminated. I'm just junk. Only good for spare parts and a good frag," Sideswipe sputtered. With trembling hands he stroked the chassis in front of him, his digits going southern toward the gray interface panel. "I'll hold still this time. You don't have to hurt me. I won't cry again."
Smokescreen captured the probing servo and clutched it in his own, drawing his near his spark. He tightened his hold on Sideswipe and muttered, "I won't let anyone hurt you. You're safe. I promise."
Soft snuffling noises came from Sideswipe's vocalizer as past pain and torment rose up like acid. Smokescreen held him close, muttering reassurance and promises.
'Smokescreen to Prowl,' the Diversion expert called.
'Prowl here,' was the immediate answer.
'Sideswipe is in supply closet beta six, suffering from a repressed emotional trauma,' Smokescreen said, not wanting to give away too much in case someone was listening in. Besides, he felt uncomfortable explaining a mech's private life with anyone else. Didn't seem ethical.
'I will send Ratchet to your current location,' Prowl said.
'No!' Smokescreen snapped. He calmed himself, shushing a whimpering Lamborghini in his arms before adding, 'Sideswipe's emotional state is compromised. Given previous experience in such matters, I can make the assumption that if other mechs are around him, it may cause further emotional strife. I suggest keeping everyone away from this area until his emotions have stabilized. And I think it wise to get Sunstreaker here as soon as possible.'
'I have already commed him. He will be back in half an hour.' Prowl reported. 'Is Sideswipe a threat to himself or others?'
'No, but in his current state, he may perceive others to be a threat to him,' Smokescreen answered, hoping Prowl didn't ask for elaboration. He was already uncomfortable with what he reported so far. 'Please ask Blaster to cover for me until I can ensure Sideswipe's mental health and safety.'
'I have informed everyone to keep clear,' Prowl said, adding yet another adjustment to the schedule. 'Blaster had agreed and Jazz has offered additional coverage if so needed.'
'Thank you,' Smokescreen said, but the transmission was already cut.
Sunstreaker returned in a foul mood, which wasn't unusual. When Ratchet pinged for his location, the golden mech had refused to answer, having a feeling that the sputtering sensation filling the bond with his twin was cause for the medic's twisted panties. He met Ratchet's usual growled greeting and like two posturing tomcats the two headstrong mechs argued. Ratchet was vehement about Sunstreaker's apparent disregard for his twin and Sunstreaker believed Ratchet to be overreacting. It was only when Sunstreaker gasp and fell against the bulkhead that he realized the true depth of the situation. Using the desperate plea in his spark as a beacon, Sunstreaker raced through the halls and skidded to a halt in front of the closet. The door had been left partly open. Sunstreaker threw it wide and found his twin crying in the arms of Smokescreen.
When the door was flung open, Smokescreen prepared a verbal bashing that would have given Ratchet a run for his credits. But upon seeing Sunstreaker's livid expression, he turned to the mech in his arms and spoke.
"Sunstreaker is here," Smokescreen said, halting his soothing ministrations.
Sideswipe opened bleary optics to see his brother, standing like a golden god, framed in the doorway. He let out a sparkling like chirp before pulling free of his pseudo-creator and reaching for his twin.
"Sunny," Sideswipe muttered, burying his face against his brother's neck as Sunstreaker knelt in the doorway. "I hurt. Make it stop."
"I will,' Sunstreaker said, pulling Sideswipe into a hug and filling their bond with all the love and possessiveness he could muster. It had the desired effect. Sideswipe calmed, his whimpers falling away into hushed sounds, his frame slowing its tremors.
Smokescreen rose to his pedes, his doorwings extending in agitation over the situation and to relieve the kinks that had formed from being crammed into a closet for nearly an hour.
"Explain, please, why Sideswipe believes that everyone is going to hurt him,' Smokescreen said, towering above the twins.
Ratchet stood behind Sunstreaker, blocking any possible retreat if the golden mech decided to rise and make a run for it. But with Sideswipe clutched so vehemently against his chest, his fear slow to subside, Sunstreaker wasn't going anywhere.
"And don't you dare say its none of our business,' Ratchet added, putting his hands on his hips and giving Sunstreaker the look that meant explanations better be forthcoming or there were scratches in his near future.
Knowing he was boxed in, and with Sideswipe clinging to his frame, preventing escape, Sunstreaker sighed and started to explain. He didn't want to get into details, not with Sideswipe still so entrenched in the past. Not to mention it was part of a painful time in the twins past and neither felt comfortable in giving the details of their youth.
"We were sold to a pleasure house when we were young," Sunstreaker said, tightening his grip on his brother. The tremors were subsiding but the ruby mech was still flooding the bond with apprehension and loneliness. "When we refused to cater to such, indulgences, we were punished."
Sideswipe let out a whine, snuggling closer to his twin.
Sunstreaker soothed his brother and sent him a strong protective pulse, letting him know he wasn't alone. He gazed up into Smokescreen's stern face and added, "We were sent to opposite sides of the compound, where we were educated on our function by numerous high paying clientele."
Smokescreen felt like he wanted to purge. Ratchet was fairing no better.
"We had no choice, no control, and was taken by many until we slipped into stasis from lack of energy," Sunstreaker said, feeling his brother's gentle brush against his mind. He was depleted, both physically and emotionally and he needed assurance his twin was nearby. He needed to feel protected.
"It hurts so bad," Sideswipe muttered so softly it was difficult to hear. He pulled his brother against him, trying to meld their frames into one before he added, "It hurts. Please, don't let them do that to me again. I don't want to do that anymore. Make them stop."
"I made them stop," Sunstreaker said, turning his attention to his brother. "It's all over. They won't hurt us again."
"Promise?" Sideswipe's voice was soft, meek, and wrenched the spark out of the two mechs witnessing such travesty.
"I promise," Sunstreaker said, his gentle gaze leaving his twin to stare with cruel bite into Smokescreen's own optics. "NO one will hurt or use us again."
Those words were the affirmation Sideswipe was looking for. He sagged against his brother, all tenseness and suffering gone. It was replaced with weariness and relief.
"Would you like me to give him a sedative to help him relax and maybe charge?" Ratchet asked, placing his hand on Sunstreaker's shoulder.
Sunstreaker tensed but shook his head. "I can get him to charge."
"Ratchet?" Sideswipe asked, raising his head to stare in confusion as he took in the tight confines of the supply closet. "Is that Ratchet?"
"Yes, Sideswipe, it's me," Ratchet said, kneeling down behind Sunstreaker. He kept a suitable distance in case his proximity would cause Sideswipe to regress back into his previous state.
"Hi, Ratchet," Sideswipe said, his grin looking lopsided in his fatigue. "What are you doing here?"
"I was worried about you and came to check on you," Ratchet admitted.
"That sounds like you," Sideswipe said with a half hearted laugh. His optics went unfocused, his helm swaying a little. Sunstreaker's grip tightened on his brother. "Ratchet can help, Sunny. Ratchet is strong. He can protect us."
"Yes, I can," Ratchet said, wanting so desperately to find the mech responsible for this tragedy and rip his spark from his chamber. Medical codes be slagged to the Pit. Ratchet wanted retribution and would have no problem in exacting proper punishment to the one who caused the twins such harm.
Sideswipe sighed and nuzzled his brother. Ratchet put his hands on Sunstreaker's back.
"Let's get you two to your quarters," Ratchet said, slipping his hands under Sunstreaker's arms and helping him to hoist Sideswipe into a standing position. Sunstreaker offered a noise of affirmation before leading his brother toward their quarters, Ratchet a few paces behind.
When the twins were several paces ahead, Ratchet turned to Smokescreen. "If I ever find the mech who did that to them…."
"You'd have to get in line," the Praxian said, exiting the closet and stretching his door wings.
The twins made it to their quarters without encountering any other ARK members, a fact that Sunstreaker was glad. Ratchet waited until both were inside before shutting the door and giving the two privacy and peace. Sunstreaker helped his twin into their quarters and just like old times, directed Sideswipe to his berth, where he pressed himself against the wall, facing outward, his hand extended to Sunstreaker in invitation.
Sunstreaker couldn't say no. He crawled in with his twin, his processor flashing back to their youth when one had been brutalized by the clients at the pleasure house and needed physical comfort to get through the pain and torment. Sideswipe latched onto him like a terrified sparkling, the shaking starting all over again. He muffled a supplicating cry against his brother as he clutched at the golden frame. Not having the constitution to endure such emotional bleeding, Sunstreaker snuggled closer. And though it had been ages since such a thing was needed, he sent the command to open his chest plates. As the golden plates rearranged themselves and his spark chamber split, Sideswipe's own half spark answered the unspoken summons. As soon as both sparks were exposed they reached for each other, pulling together to become one and whole. Sideswipe instantly slumped in submission, feeling his brother's protectiveness and love flowing unchecked through their combined sparks. Sunstreaker felt his brother's pain and turmoil, and like so many times before, he drew his twin in, taking the pain and sending it to somewhere dark where it couldn't hurt them again.
When Sunstreaker woke up, his tank gave a rumble in disagreement. He checked his chronometer and found that twelve hours had past. It was now just after two in the morning. He looked to his brother and found him sleeping blissfully unaware. Knowing that Sideswipe would need fuel as well, the golden mech slipped from his brother's grip and headed out the door. With a fast step he went to the rec room, filled two cubes and made his way back toward his quarters. When he opened the door it was to find an empty room. He sighed, placing the two cubes on a nearby table. He turned to go on the mech-hunt for his brother when he received a startling summons.
'Sunstreaker, could you come to my quarters please?' Prime's voice came over comms, along with an echoing ping that was meant to awaken the warrior if he was in deep charge.
'I'm busy,' Sunstreaker said, stepping out in the hall and looking up and down for signs of his brother.
'If you are looking for your brother, he is currently curled up beside of me,' Prime said with just a touch of humor. 'I would appreciate it if you could come and collect him.'
'On my way,' Sunstreaker said, heading down the left side corridor and taking another left to Prime's personal quarters.
Sunstreaker punched in his access code and with a beep, the door opened. Though Sunstreaker had a strong constitution and could hold back his mirth in the funniest of situations, he couldn't stop the choked laugh that had escaped.
Prime lay on his berth, Sideswipe tucked against his side like a sparkling. Prime's arm was around the ruby mech's shoulders as Sideswipe babbled about what sounded like a bad horror movie.
"And then, there was this guy," Sideswipe said, talking to Prime as if he was explaining something to his long lost creator. "And he went into the basement and didn't come back. Do you know why?" Sideswipe asked, then when Prime made no answer, Sideswipe continued, "There were werewolves in the basement playing poker, and when the guy saw them, he screamed, they ate him, and went back to playing poker."
"Really?" Prime asked, sounding enthralled by the account.
"Do you think that will help your investigation?" Sideswipe asked, sounding skeptical, yet hopeful.
Sunstreaker just stared. He knew he was grinning in a maniacal way, but there was just something funny about Sideswipe curled up against Prime and giving an incoherent testimony. Sunstreaker figured he was just tired and that this scene brought up concerns about Sideswipe's mental stability, but Sunstreaker couldn't bring himself to speak.
"I believe your brother is here," Prime said, hoping to get Sideswipe to focus.
Sideswipe frowned and looked toward the door. He smiled, giving Prime's torso an affectionate pat and a muttered, "Good Kitty," before getting up and smiling at his twin.
"Sunstreaker? What are you doing here?" Sideswipe asked, looking happily surprised.
"Come to get you," Sunstreaker said, holding out his hand for his brother to take. Sideswipe took the offered hand, giving a happy chirp as Sunstreaker turned to leave.
Sideswipe dug in his pedes and whined, "But what about the investigation?"
"What investigation?" Sunstreaker asked, turning to his brother.
Sideswipe looked confused for a moment and didn't answer.
"Come on," Sunstreaker said, tugging his twin toward the door. "It's late and I'm exhausted."
Sideswipe nodded and followed his brother. When he was standing at Prime's door he looked back and added, "I hope I could help you. Let me know if you catch the guy."
"Will do," Prime called before the door slid shut.
Sunstreaker lead his brother back to their quarters, made him drink the cube and then tucked him in, where Sideswipe refused to charge until Sunstreaker sang a lullaby. Not sure what to sing, Sunstreaker remembered an old ballad from Cybertron and sang it until his twin was asleep. Sighing in exhaustion, Sunstreaker lay down his head and fell into a deep charge.
The next morning, Sunstreaker was pulled out of slumber by Prowl's annoying voice.
'Prowl to Sunstreaker. Respond.'
'Sunstreaker here. What do you want?'
'Your brother was found in the brig, where he said he was serving his sentence. I thought you were watching him.'
'I am, but I need charge, slag it!' Sunstreaker snapped, looking to the empty berth. 'He must have awakened early.'
'Please hurry. Red Alert informed me that Sideswipe is on his way to the Command Center.' Prowl said, and there was real irritation in his voice. 'And I do not believe he is stable enough to return to duty.'
'What was your first clue?' Sunstreaker snapped, stumbling from the berth and out the door.
Sideswipe strode into the Command Center with the air of a superior mech in every way. His paint was rather shiny, the edges to his frame crisp and neat. His back strut was as rigid as Prowl's own. His shoulders were squared, his steps light, but purposeful. He nodded to Jazz in a stiff, formal way, before going to the main terminal and punching in random numbers.
"Sideswipe, what are you doing?" Prowl asked, hoping the mech didn't crash Tele-Tran.
"I am updating the system and checking Tele-Tran's parameters," Sideswipe answered in a steely, hard voice. It sounded odd coming from the normally laughing and cheeky mech.
"Tele-Tran has already been analyzed this month," Prowl reported, watching as numbers flickered across the main screen. "I must ask you to cease your actions."
Without turning around, Sideswipe called, "It's my job to ensure the safety of this crew and I will not allow you to hinder my job." He turned his steely gaze over his shoulder and glared at Prowl with a look that made the Praxian shiver despite himself. "And I will not tolerate insubordination."
Sideswipe turned back to the screen, his attention split between checking Tele-Tran for possible defection and writing out two adjacent programs. Sunstreaker entered the room and headed straight for his brother.
"Come on, Sides, let's go get some breakfast," Sunstreaker said, hoping to get his brother's attention drawn toward refueling. Sideswipe was usually distracted by the prospect of food. But not this time. He jerked his arm out of his brother's grip.
"Do not touch me!" Sideswipe snarled, giving his brother a death glare before returning his attention back to the console.
Sunstreaker stood agape, staring at his twin. The rage and insolence flooding the bond shocked and unnerved him. Sideswipe usually filled the bond with love and adoration, using the sentiments to torture Sunstreaker with all the 'happy' feelings that made him uncomfortable.
"I have work to do, Sunstreaker. I suggest you find something to occupy your processor," Sideswipe said in dismissal, going back to his multiple tasks without blinking an optic.
'Perceptor and Wheeljack to the Command Center,' Prowl called. 'Sideswipe is doing something to Tele-Tran and to be safe, I would appreciate a thorough analysis.'
'On our way,' came the two answers almost in unison.
When the two bots came into the main control room, Sideswipe finished up with whatever he was trying to do. He looked over his shoulder, saw the two mechs, and nodded toward Tele-Tran.
"I have begun the program installation and I believe the two of you will be able to finish where I left off," Sideswipe said, stepping away from the console and going to the security monitor. He gave the screen a stern scrutinizing look before nodding in affirmation and turning to Prowl. "Everything seems to be in order. You have the bridge, Number One."
With a curt nod, Sideswipe left, Sunstreaker trailing behind.
"What was that all about?" Wheeljack asked Prowl, noting the tactician seemed stunned into inactivity.
Prowl pulled himself out of his stupor, and near shut down, to address the two mechs who just arrived. "Please make sure Sideswipe didn't corrupt and compromise Tele-Tran."
Perceptor went to the main terminal, pulling up the three programs that Sideswipe had been working on. It was a full minute later that he gave an excited beep that sounded like a sputtering truck.
"Primus!" the scientist gasped.
"Bad?" Wheeljack asked, leaning over from where he was examining the systems check that Sideswipe had instigated. It took the inventor a moment to read over the lines of code but his shock was easily painted on his face the more he read.
"What did he do?" Prowl asked, not liking the shocked Perceptor and stupefied Wheeljack looks he was watching.
"He wrote a program," Perceptor said, nodding to one of the small boxes on the screen. "It's incomplete but the magnifications of this is…. Its…."
"Genius," Wheeljack summed it up. "There's two, many three little additions to the end and Sideswipe is responsible for solving a problem we have barely scratched the surface of."
"Which is?" Prowl asked, finding it hard to believe that Sideswipe could be labeled a genius.
"Energy conversion for Cybertron," Perceptor added, entranced by the dancing figures on the screen. "He's come up with a universal adaptation that can make just about anything available able to be converted to raw materials that will allow latent energy to be released into kinetic, and even using the conversion method as a powering supply so once it gets started, it becomes a self contained environmental energy source."
"The analysis he was doing on Tele-Tran explains the second program he was writing," Wheeljack said, shrinking the energy formulation and bringing the second box into standard viewing size. "This is a program that will allow Tele-Tran to expand parameters without sacrificing space and the ability to run self checks and patches."
"Ingenious," Perceptor said, looking over the code with intent optics.
"Who's ingenious?" Ironhide asked, joining the group.
"Apparently Sideswipe," Prowl said, watching as the two science mechs started talking in techno-speech about the augmentations and the benefits that were to be gained.
"He's an idiot," Ironhide scoffed. "Just saw him singing in the hall."
"He always sings," Jazz said, with a huge grin on his face as he returned to the Command Center. He looked to Prowl's questioning stare and added, "His lyrics were colorful. Certainly not standard when the song was original produced."
"If a song talks about Megatron in black lace panties, then I believe I no longer wish to listen to public radio," Ironhide deadpanned.
"He just made a pass at Mirage," Jazz grinned, jerking his thumb over his shoulder toward the hall. "Thought Mirage was a femme and made a rather crude proposition."
"He's going to be insufferable," Prowl muttered, knowing the Tower mech didn't take too kindly to be thought of as feminine.
"He always is," Ironhide said, his grin matching Jazz's.
There was a loud shout, followed by a banging clang that meant someone just got knocked against a bulkhead. Sunstreaker's voice came over comms, asking Ratchet to attend Mirage as the mech was unconscious. Sunstreaker's voice was quickly followed by Red Alerts, informing the crew that Sideswipe just tried to molest the Tower brat before Mirage shoved his unwanted pursuer into the wall. Mirage was quickly knocked flat on his aft by an enraged Sunstreaker, who picked his confused brother up and was trying to escort him to their quarters but Sideswipe was arguing and trying to gain freedom.
Prowl's attention was called back to the scientists when Perceptor grabbed Wheeljack and had the inventor to scan over the other program that had been written in hasty symbols. Prowl sighed, wondering what Sideswipe had done when Wheeljack's overly bright optics turned to him with an announcement that made his fins flash like a disco.
"Sideswipe figured out how to double Tele-Tran's output," Wheeljack reported. "And create a firewall that's impossible to penetrate."
"I'm having difficulty in finding a flaw to the routine, but I do believe your assumption is correct," Perceptor added, scanning the codes to check the validity of the new program.
"I tell you, he's a genius," Wheeljack said with a smile.
"Your genius is currently throwing Bumblebee in the air," Prowl reported, having just got a full detailed summary from the minibot and other witnesses. "He believes Bumblebee is a new toy and is … playing.. with him."
"All geniuses are a little bit crazy," Wheeljack said in self defense.
"Huffer is running his mouth," Jazz reported, hearing the comm. chatter from the mechs in the rec room. "There's a good chance there's going to be a fight in the rec room."
"Ironhide, Jazz, with me," Prowl ordered, opening a comm. to Ratchet and pinging the medic to the rec room.
As the three officers neared the rec room, there came a loud crashing sound, followed by a heavy thump and a clang of a body falling to the ground. The officers ran into the room to find several of the minibots standing around a dazed Bumblebee. Sideswipe was unconscious on the floor with Sunstreaker standing over him, hands on hips and the look of the pit maker about to unleash untold horrors.
"What is going on?" Prowl demanded, going to Sunstreaker to ensure he didn't attack anyone. The others could care for Bee. But with Sunstreaker's history, it was wise to find out what happened and deal with the consequences if and when he exploded.
"Sunstreaker was protecting me," Bumblebee said, his hand grasping his helm to steady his surroundings. "Sideswipe said he was going to go throw me in the smelter because that's where bad toys went and next thing I knew, Sunstreaker had decked him."
Sunstreaker looked to Prowl, his optics the icy hue of dismantlement.
"Is this true?" Prowl asked.
"He's not thinking right," Sunstreaker said, nodding to the heap that was his brother. "I was afraid he would be serious and terminate Bumblebee."
"What the slag happened?" Ratchet yelled, entering the room and immediately going to Sideswipe. He hooked into the frontliner's systems while casting a reproachful glare at Sunstreaker and Prowl. "Who did this?"
"I did," Sunstreaker said without remorse. "He was going to hurt Bumblebee."
"Thanks, Sunstreaker," Bee said, coming to stand next to the other yellow mech and giving him a grateful smile. "I don't mind playing along with being a toy but I don't think I want to pretend to be scrap metal."
"You're not scrap metal, Bee," Sideswipe said with a slur. Everyone looked to the downed bot as he shuttered his optics and pulled himself upright. He looked to Sunstreaker and snickered, "You look like a superhero, Bro."
"Sideswipe, do you know where you are?" Ratchet asked, his hardline connection giving him the data on Sideswipe's condition. It seemed the knock to the helm and the resulting fall, had knocked his cogs back into a regular alignment.
"Rec room," Sideswipe said, looking around, then nodded to everyone standing around him. "And Jazz, Prowler, Ironhide, you Ratchet, and my brother, the Hero."
"Slag," Sunstreaker muttered, clearly taking Sideswipe's definition to be another symptom.
"I mean, where we are. What is our current location?" Ratchet asked.
"Earth. Oregon. Mt. Hilary I believe the humans call it. In the rec room, with me laying on the floor and the five of you standing over me like pissed off guards." His expression turned wary. "Why are all of you standing guard over me? What happened?"
"Take him to med bay," Ratchet said to Sunstreaker, earning a disapproving look from Sunstreaker that was instantly dropped from Ratchet's return glare. "I'll run a few tests and if he's better, then I'll release him for duty in a few days."
"Better?" Sideswipe asked as Sunstreaker hoisted him to his pedes. "Better from what? What is going on guys?"
"I'll let you explain," Ratchet said to Sunstreaker as they duo passed.
"Thanks," Sunstreaker growled out, steering his brother toward med bay.
"Let me know when he is fit to duty," Prowl said as the three mechs started toward the door. "I wish Sideswipe to explain his calculations and possibly assist Wheeljack and Perceptor in the installation of his programs."
"What is he talking about?" Sideswipe asked his brother. "I don't know how to write programs."
"Long story," Sunstreaker said, linking arms with his brother and directing him toward the med bay and hopefully, an end to all the insanity.
{{{000-IIIII-OOOOO}}} {{{000-IIIII-OOOOO}}}
Sneak peek of another chapter to the one(s) who guess the references.
Any thoughts? Concrit? Fave Line? I'm holding off on requests at the moment because there are currently 9 sitting in a pile and I just don't have a fragging clue on what the muse wants to do with them. I'm hoping she comes up with something. I dont want to abandon this fic. Its just been SOOO much fun to write. Hopefully something will come to mind… Please, bear with me.
