SIDE TRACKED
Yes, I know Lamborghinis sport a 'gull wing' door design. But, I see the Bots as able to manipulate their bodies any way they see fit for a situation. That's the only explanation I can think of when the bots transform around a human. (Seriously, what was up with transforming around Chip and his wheelchair?)
I am currently have or working on requests for: Lambor Terror Lep, Blitz-Krazi1, two for Elita 2, and two for Aura Black Chan, two for Ditzymusiclover, Bluebird Soaring, Akira Alvina. I currently have three chapters outlined but nothing truly fleshed out. But it's a start and I'm hoping the muse will run with them. Sorry it takes so long but the muse just randomly grabs an idea and runs with it. I never know what she's going to do, nor when she will strike. I pray for all your patience. I WILL get to the requests. I just don't know when.
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Sideswipe raced through the streets, Bluestreak hot on his tailpipes. They took the sharp turns with ease. Well, the sports car took the turns with ease. Bluestreak grunted to maintain control and grimaced every time he fishtailed in overcompensation. The trek was wrecking havoc on his systems. His shocks would need attention, if not replaced all together. His struts were taking quite the beating, along with very sensitive junctures in his undercarriage. But no matter how much he hurt, or feared Ratchet's wrath, he did a very surprising thing.
Bluestreak didn't complain. In fact, he was so intent on losing his pursuer, nothing crossed his mind to voice aloud, other than the occasional grunt due centrifugal force. Datsuns weren't meant for these speeds or curb hugging maneuvers. Lamborghinis on the other hand, they were BORN for such tight courses.
"Just a little further, Blue!" Sideswipe yelled, taking an abrupt turn and heading down a disused alley.
"Thank Primus!" the gunner called back, dodging the debris and praying nothing bounced into his rims or undercarriage.
The duo shot out across traffic, a blur of blood and shadow, only to disappear down another alley. As soon as the two registered to other motorist, they were gone. Sideswipe took a right hand turn, earning a soft groan from his tires, and swerved toward the intended target. Bluestreak's tires screamed in protest, which thankfully drowned out the creaks and growls from his overtaxed engine.
Sideswipe disappeared into a narrow valley of concrete, flicking on his high beams, prompting Bluestreak to do the same.
"Where are we?" Bluestreak asked, panting from the exertion.
"Underground parking garage," Sideswipe answered, deciding on the lowest possible level. "Seeker scanners can't penetrate through all this concrete and steel. Not to mention, the seekers are far too big to fit in here, and just about every one of the Decepticons are afraid of dark, underground places."
"Really?" Bluestreak asked, genuinely surprised by the proclamation.
"Yeah. Ever notice how Cons are reluctant go underground?" Sideswipe maneuvered himself along the mix of other automobiles and extinguished his lights. Bluestreak's instantly followed. "Seekers are the worst, but if you notice, all the Cons seem to have a problem with being underground."
"How do they survive being on the ocean floor then?" Bluestreak wondered, filing away Sideswipes information for later use.
"Don't know," Sideswipe admitted. "Maybe it has something to do with the darkness there; they just think it looks like space. Or maybe the water is so blue; they think it's the sky. But I know for a fact that the seekers have to get out every so many solars to fly. "
"I can understand how they wouldn't want to be underground," Bluestreak muttered.
"They slander ground frames, but we're more resilient than they are," Sideswipe goaded. "At least I don't think claustrophobia is a glitch in the Autobots. Don't think anyone has a problem being underground."
"Gears says it's like being buried alive," Bluestreak added, remembering the day of the rather gruesome conversation. It still gave him nightmares.
"Yes, we'll he's always been one to know all the aspects of slow or painful deactivation," Sideswipe growled, finding a section of the garage that offered a more secure location. They were only two floors below the street, but eight more levels crowned the structure. The far side where the two were taking refuge was flanked by large office buildings, the back alley far too small to allow a jet to land and begin a search.
"What do we do?" Bluestreak asked, his frame giving an involuntary shudder. He had taken a hit that fried his transformation cog. He was stuck in vehicular form. Not a good mode for a sniper.
"We lay low, keep ourselves calm, and try not to draw attention," Sideswipe answered. "Pull in."
Bluestreak obeyed, putting his front bumper nearly flush against the concrete of the support stanchion. Sideswipe pulled in beside the gunner, though he chose to back into his spot. If trouble arose, he was the only one capable of warding off an attack.
Though how much of a threat he could pose was still in question. His weapons had been lost, and there was a nasty hole in his shoulder curtsey of a lucky shot from Starscream. His transformation had been rough and painful, but he had done what was necessary to speed to Bluestreak, who had been exposed during the fight and damaged. Thankfully the Autobots were near a city, and Sideswipe had led the injured gunner to safety as the Autobots fell back to regroup and wait for back up.
"The Cons knocked out my communications relay," Bluestreak said after a moment of trying different bandwidths.
"Mine as well," Sideswipe was reluctant to admit it to the already scared Datsun. "But we don't need to broadcast our location in case the Cons are close by. Don't need the company."
"But the Autobots won't know where to find us," Bluestreak exclaimed, his frame starting to tremble.
"Yeah, they will," Sideswipe said in nonchalance.
A roar of jet engine resounded in the concrete cave, indicating the Cons were still looking for their victims.
"Dampen your energy field," Sideswipe whispered as his signature dropped off Blue's sensors.
"Sideswipe!" Bluestreak hissed, reluctant to mask his signature. It was dark, cold, and with nothing but ordinary cars dotted here and there, it was lonely without the constant energy field brushing against his own from Sideswipe. He hated being alone, almost as much as he hated silence.
"Blue, open your passenger door," Sideswipe ordered. "No arguments, just do it."
The gray door slowly opened, as if not trusting its neighbor. Sideswipe waited until the door was fully extended, before opening his own door, slowly backing up until blood red met steel grey. Bluestreak relaxed, blanketing his signature.
"Keep calm and quiet," Sideswipe ordered softly as the sound of engines faltered then stilled as the jets landed on a wider street and were beginning to search for their prey.
"I don't like this," Bluestreak whispered, though his nervousness had been reduced.
Sideswipe sent a low pulse through his door, his arm rest flush against Bluestreak's. He knew the gunner wasn't normally so shaky, having been conditioned to spend hours in secreted locations, remaining motionless and out of communication range. It was basic training for snipers or those in Special Ops. What had Bluestreak so terrified was the thought of being stuck in alt mode, with no means of defense, no communications, and being left alone in a cold, dark, place while death circled overhead. It was Praxus all over again. Something the young gunner could never quite shake, no matter how extensive the training.
A car alarm went off in the distance.
"I think they're getting closer," Bluestreak whispered. "What are we going to do? No one knows where we are? How can they find us?"
"Shhhhh," Sideswipe gently admonished. "Don't worry. Help is on the way."
"How can you be sure?" Bluestreak whimpered, pressing his door into Sideswipe's for reassurance.
"You forget who you're with," Sideswipe said with a soft chuckle that instantly died when there came a resounding crash above them.
"They're here!" Bluestreak squeaked.
"So let's pretend we're not," Sideswipe added, sending a warm tingle through his door that carried through to the gunner. "Don't make a sound. Just let them bang around like glitches."
Bluestreak sent a return pulse through his door. He was grateful Sideswipe wasn't teasing him about his fear and he secretly hoped the ruby warrior wouldn't hold his irrational behavior against him. He liked the ruby warrior, and to some extent, his twin. Both were fun to be around and always had fun. Course, Bluestreak's disciplinary folder had expanded drastically since he started spending more time with the duo, but as he explained to Prowl, sometimes a bot was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. There was never any malice or revenge intended, and after Bluestreak's pleas, Prowl had begun to let some things slide.
A crash echoed, followed by the sound of renting metal. A building collapsed nearby, the vibration felt through the tires of the hidden Autobots in the underground garage. Humans began shouting, screaming, adding to the cacophony of stampeding feet.
Bluestreak fought the urge to cry. He knew Sideswipe was a formidable warrior and could take on anyone twice his size, but if the jets decided to attack at the same time, Sideswipe would be easily overpowered. He was good, but he wasn't supernatural. Bluestreak felt his unease ebb from the small pulses Sideswipe was feeding through the sensors in his door. He had to admit, Sideswipe knew how to calm someone. Nothing more sensitive than a doorwinger's doors, especially around the armrest where the sensors were more advanced due to their protruding nature. He wondered if Sideswipe knew that about doorwings or was just performing a natural, every day action to soothe shaky nerves.
"Shhh….. easy," Sideswipe muttered.
Bluestreak willed himself to calm, knowing that Sideswipe had his bumper. But how in the name of Primus were the Autobots going to be able to find the two wayward mechs in a city this large and a battle so chaotic?
Suddenly the sound of wrenching metal could be heard deep in the bowels of the underground. Curses buffered down, then came the steady staccato of weapons fire. Car alarms screamed, drowning out the vocalizations of the infuriated Cons. A sonic boom went off, rattling the parking structure so violently a shower of dust fell on the Autobot hoods, ghosting their paint. The sounds of crumbling concrete greeted their audios before the far away section of the building collapsed.
Bluestreak emitted a tiny squeak in alarm, but Sideswipe remained impassive. The Lamborghini settled low on his tires, the Datsun quickly following suit.
Laser fire erupted from somewhere up above, followed by muted shouts. There were no mistaking Starscream's null rays as they screamed just as loudly as their owner. Another explosion followed by the thundering of jet engines, angry shouts, and another sonic boom, then all was silent.
"Bout time," Sideswipe said, rising on his tires and pulling out of the parking slot. "Come on, Blue, let's get you to the doc bot."
"We can't go out there!" Bluestreak gasped, his panic returning when Sideswipe broke physical contact. "The Cons will get us!"
"Cons are gone. It's safe now," Sideswipe said, idling in place until Bluestreak moved. He didn't want to leave the gunner alone.
"How can you be so sure?" Bluestreak asked, clearly not believing the frontliner. "You don't know who's out there!"
"Bluestreak, I assure you, it's safe," Sideswipe said, turning on his lights to their fullest extent.
"Our communications are down!" Bluestreak added.
Realizing the gunner wasn't cottoning on, Sideswipe gave a small laugh. "Bluestreak, I don't need communications to know when my twin is near."
"Sunstreaker…." Bluestreak muttered, his processor finally catching up. "If Sunstreaker's nearby, then that means our friends are with him."
"That's usually how it goes," Sideswipe mused.
Bluestreak pulled away from his parking place and kept pace behind Sideswipe, who Bluestreak just noticed was favoring his left side. As soon as the two drove out into daylight, the sun fell on top of the ruby warrior and gave him a hard fist to the roof.
"Ouch! Sunstreaker! Knock it off!" Sideswipe barked in anger and pain.
"Fragger! Up and leaving in the middle of a fight!" Sunstreaker snarled, drawing his fist back for another strike. "Cons swarming all over and my idiot brother decides to disappear."
"I didn't leave out of spite," Sideswipe griped, transforming and pushing his brother away from him. When Sunstreaker made to advance, Sideswipe pointed his finger at the mangled Datsun. "Blue's cover was blown and the seekers were targeting him. He was outgunned and injured."
Sunstreaker halted his advance and took in the battered form idling silently behind Sideswipe. Ratchet rushed over, barking orders for Wheeljack to stay off his mangled pede and ride in Prime's trailer. When Ratchet spotted Bluestreak, his demeanor instantly softened and with a delicacy unheard of in the medic, he started to work on the damaged circuitry.
"How bad, Ratchet?" Sideswipe asked, turning from his twin.
"It looks like he went off-roading with Hound again," Ratchet grumbled, light from the welder flickering across his visage.
"Busted cogs, two ruptured hoses, and several burns," Ratchet prattled on, reading through the diagnostics scrolling through his HUD. "You're struts are compromised, transformation cog is offline, and it looks like you have a blown fuse that's disabled your launchers."
"Seekers," Bluestreak explained in a nervous chuckle, hoping Ratchet wouldn't employ his infamous wrenches. So far, the youngster had been spared such drastic treatments. He was grateful Ratchet had turned off his pain receptors, though his frame did give involuntary twitches from Ratchet's hasty field repairs.
Sunstreaker gave the battered gray hood a cross look that softened. "Next time do us a favor and don't blow your cover. I don't think we would survive long enough to explain to Prowl how we lost you."
Bluestreak opened his vocalizer to speak but Sunstreaker gave a curt nod and took his leave, Sideswipe following behind.
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