This Side of Sanity
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Sorry if this sucker doesnt set right. For some reason my formatting has been all over the map with this chapter. I've tried to fix it, so if something looks 'off' or the font changes, I apologize. But I'm not beating my head against the screen to constantly get this thing to cooperate.
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Smokescreen flared his doorwings in agitation. It was times like these he hated having a brother who pulled military rank. Smokescreen huffed, punching the button for the lower level detention center and fuming at the audacity of his brother. Prowl knew he was no longer a practicing psychologist. He had given up that title when he joined the Autobots, using his own tactical skill along the battlefront while his brother manipulated the troops from behind the lines.
They both enjoyed the engaging battle of wills and outplaying each other in tactical games. When the war broke out, Prowl immediately offered his services. Smokescreen had tried to keep his practice going but with most of the city falling to ruin, he had begrudgingly signed up. It irked him that his younger brother now held rank over him. Prowl swore he never used his rank for influence, but Smokescreen snorted in disgust, knowing his brother had purposefully kept him busy evaluating the new recruits.
Which was where he was heading in such an unprofessional, and irritable mood. He had been ordered to evaluate two new recruits, and upon their first five missed appointments, he learned they both were incarcerated in the brig. Perfect. Now they had no choice but to talk to him and let him give them a good mental interrogation and report his findings to his brother. Then maybe he could return to the job he was recruited to do, and plan diversionary tactics for safe Autobot retreats along the Decepticon strongholds. It was a job he was well adept at, but had little practice due to his brother running military interference. Needless to say, it was very annoying.
The doors of the transport lift opened, revealing the quiet hall. A small drone beeped in greeting when Smokescreen stepped out. It rolled forth, its systems on automatic when sensing a ranking officer.
"State identity and reason for visit," it said in a flat tone.
"Smokescreen," he said, wondering why the cell block was so quiet. Usually the cells were full of prisoners, all yelling, shouting, causing a ruckus. It was strange that this particular block was so silent. "Mental evaluation for a Sideswipe and Sunstreaker."
"Identity recognized and granted," the drone said, turning aside and motioning down the hall. "Prisoners are at the end of the hall."
Smokescreen nodded and took a step toward his victims. He paused, turning to the drone. "Why is it so quiet down here? Surely there are other prisoners?"
"Prisoners were removed when recruits, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, instigated a riot and taught the other prisoners to sing vulgar, slanderous songs concerning our Prime." The drone gave a beep, its parameters were limited on to giving out too much information. "Due to the severity of their transgressions, they were removed from general population and ordered a psychological evaluation."
"Right," Smokescreen sighed, heading toward his doom. He could feel his spark thudding with each step. Surely these two new recruits couldn't be as bad as his brother had insinuated? Yes, the drone had been a little more forthcoming with the information on WHY the two were incarcerated, but it seemed a rather extreme measure to something as trivial as a couple of boisterous bots blowing off steam. The stockade seemed a harsh reprimand for two mechs poking fun at Prime. Smokescreen had met the Prime once. He had an affable humor, though Smokescreen was certain that Prowl did not possess such an attribute.
Row after row of quiet, dark cells greeted the Praxian as he ventured to the end of the hall. The cells were set up adjacent to one another, allowing the other cell occupants privacy and not being spied on from across the hall. The last cell on the block cast a warm glow over a seat that pointed at the occupied cell, waiting for the Praxian visitor. Wasting no time, Smokescreen walked to the chair, turned, and surveyed his two new 'patients'.
One was ruby red and was seated on the floor, giving his cell mate a look that was hidden from the vantage point outside the cell. The other mech was a golden hue, highly polished, and sat on the edge of one of the berths, his venting coming in steady, even breaths.
"Well, look who we have here," the red one said, eyeing the blue and red Praxian like a predator sizing up helpless prey. "A visitor, Sunny."
There was a deep resonating growl from the other mech, who glared at the mech on the other side of the bars. His lip stayed curled in distaste as he asked, "What do you want?"
"My name is Smokescreen," he said, noting the two had identical builds. They were not too lean and not too bulky. Perfect models for fighting. They were probably from the same production line, if not the same numerical unit. "I have come for a little talk with the two of you."
"You look like the winged Pit Spawn who put us in here," Sunstreaker said, rising from his seat and walking toward the bars.
Smokescreen had to fight down the urge to back up. There was no way the mech could get through the bars, but the look on his face, and the thrum of danger that emanated from his very being, it was very disconcerting. The Praxian wanted as much distance as possible between the glowering mech.
"Prowl is my brother," he answered, resisting the urge to run from the glowering mech. Instead, he took a deep intake and seated himself in the available chair, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. He just hoped the duo couldn't detect the loud banging of his spark. He could hear it hammering in his audios. Primus, the golden mech scared the oil out of him.
The golden mech sneered, and the action sent a chill down Smokescreen's spinal strut. "My condolences."
"Sunny,' Sideswipe said, earning himself a backhand that sent him staggering. He rubbed his jaw, glaring at his twin, who had remained motionless except for his striking arm, as he stared down the newcomer. "Fragger."
"What do you want?" Sunstreaker demanded again, ignoring his brother's words and emotions flooding their bond.
"Just to talk," Smokescreen said. He had jerked upright in his seat when Sunstreaker struck the Sideswipe, expecting an all out war in the cell. But both mech surprised him. They brushed off the harsh reprimand and returned to their pointed stares. Sunstreaker glaring in open hostility, Sideswipe with curiosity.
"I don't talk," Sunstreaker said, his head canting slightly to the side as if detecting something. Smokescreen shifted uncomfortably in his seat but didn't speak. Sunstreaker offered a knowing smirk and turned, heading back to the berth and planting himself on it, ignoring the Praxian completely as he stretched along its surface.
"Sunny doesn't like company," Sideswipe said, hearing the warning growl coming from his brother again. "It's best if you just leave."
"I can't do that," Smokescreen said, finding it easier to talk to the ruby colored mech. "I was ordered to evaluate your mental and emotional capacity."
"Oh?" Sideswipe asked, his brow ridge arching in happy surprise. "And why would anyone care what goes on in our processors? Or our sparks? Well, our half sparks."
"Half?" Smokescreen asked, staring blankly at the mech who slouched back against the wall next to the bars. He was clearly keeping a healthy distance from the other mech. Smokescreen made a note to have the two separated.
"We're split spark twins," Sideswipe said, enjoying the look of shocked incredulity on the Praxian's face. Those types of reactions always tickled him. There was just something funny about someone learning you're only half a spark. Sideswipe didn't think he'd ever get tired of it.
"Split… split spark?" Smokescreen asked, leaning forward in his seat and looking from one to the other. "Split twins?"
"Fool," Sunstreaker muttered from where he was reposing on the berth.
"So, did you come to scramble our processors or to drain our databanks dry?" Sideswipe asked in polite sweetness, his charming smile making him seem boyish.
"No, nothing like that," Smokescreen amended, noting the cheeky look the red twin wore. Primus. Twins! It didn't seem possible. He had read about spark split twins in medical journals but never had the chance to meet a pair. Most were deemed unstable. And when one was condemned to termination for a crime, the other went silently in their wake. There was a bond between them that scientists had tried to unravel since the first split spark. The occurrence was so rare, many vorns passed between sparking pairs. It was amazing to meet such unique individuals.
"I just want to talk," Smokescreen added, relaxing in the chair and allowing his doorwings to droop. "We can talk about anything. I don't mind the topic."
"Oh, you want to learn about interfacing," Sideswipe said in all seriousness.
Smokescreen let out a startled beep, his doorwings hitching painfully on his back as he sputtered. Sideswipe's crowing laughter filled the hall.
"The look on your face plates!" Sideswipe yelled, looking over his shoulder and added, 'Sunny, look at his face."
"No thanks," Sunstreaker said, finding Sideswipe's mirth to be annoying.
Sideswipe snickered, sending a mental image to his twin that caused Sunstreaker's lip plates to curl in a slight smile before his scowl reattached itself.
"That is not what I'm here to discuss," Smokescreen said, regaining his composure. A doorwing flicked.
"Well, then you should have been more specific," Sideswipe said, that charming smile plating itself on his handsome face. "I can't read your processor."
Smokescreen regained his senses and adopted a more professional approach. Perhaps if the mech didn't associate him with a friendly nonchalant manner, he would be more apt to speaking about his feelings. Sometimes it was harder to speak to a polite listener instead of a professional who had your best interest at spark.
"Perhaps you can tell me about the incident that earned you a stint in the brig?" Smokescreen prompted, hoping to steer the conversation in the correct direction.
"It was a great prank," Sideswipe said through his laughter. His optics were brighter as he looked to his audience, "It was just a shame I caught the wrong mech in the trap."
"You are referring to the incident where the Prime's personal bodyguard was magnetized to a bulkhead?" Smokescreen asked.
"Yeah! It was great!" Sideswipe snickered, his devilish optics darting over to Sunstreaker who was fighting the urge to laugh with his twin. Sunstreaker had found the incident hilarious as well. "Even Sunshine enjoyed seeing the rusty old mech faceplanted into the bulkhead before the other mechs started flying into him as well."
Sunstreaker's head turned in slow motion at the mention of the nickname. His optics were as dark thunderclouds as he glared at his twin. His lip twitched in a twisted sneer. Smokescreen felt something inside his chassis go cold.
"And you don't feel regret for your actions?" Smokescreen asked, gauging the other mech's attitude.
"Pit no," Sideswipe laughed, waving his hand in a dismissive manner. "I only regret not getting more before being caught!"
"And the nail gun incident?" Smokescreen prompted, feeling his tanks churn when Sunstreaker allowed a dark rumble of laughter to escape, his optics focused on his brother. The sound was like the Pit maker chuckling in evil amusement.
"Well, I didn't mean to shoot the medic in the aft," Sideswipe said, and there was genuine sincerity in his voice. His face split into a handsome grin before he added, "That was just a bonus!"
Smokescreen sat in wonder, listening to Sideswipe recollect some of his more memorable pranks, almost all of them ending with someone needing medical attention. Sunstreaker offered a grunt of amusement a couple of times, but kept his vocalizer off. When Sideswipe would use a dreaded nickname, Sunstreaker would tense, a growl vibrating his frame as he stared at his twin.
Smokescreen would advert his gaze when Sunstreaker was staring at him, feeling as if his fuel pump stalled and filled his lines with iced slurry.
There was something about that golden mech. He carried the air of one able to terminate with just a look. Smokescreen was sure his spark stopped twice when he caught the intense stare from thunderous optics. The mech was like death forged in physical form. When he moved, you expected your life to be held in his grasp, a knowing smirk on his face as you faded.
Time passed in slow fast forward. Smokescreen watched Sideswipe's animated explanations as he relived his legacy of jokes, Sunstreaker's tense frame as he watched his observer. Twice he got the feeling that Sunstreaker was calculating the best way to take him apart. There was just something about the way his optics narrowed and his hands twitched.
As Sideswipe prattled on, enjoying the chance to brag about his deeds, Smokescreen took in the twins' physical forms as well as their personal interaction. Though most of their bodies sported the usual armaments constructed for war, a few of the pieces were missing, revealing their protoforms beneath.
Pewter weld marks crisscrossed their bodies, most of the repair done long ago. There were a few new marks; Ratchet's perfect suturing lines visible upon the macabre conglomeration from previous patches. Smokescreen hazard a guess as to what the twins basic protoforms sported, and knew it wasn't a sight for faint sparks. It was apparent they had suffered. Though who had inflicted such wounds and why was still in mystery.
Sideswipe was engaged in the retelling of one of his infamous pranks, something involving wire and an unsuspecting mech on the street, when Sunstreaker rose from the berth. Smokescreen's attention was pulled from Sideswipe's animated reenactment of the mechs hilarious, and purely accidental, beheading, when he spotted the golden warrior moving. A fluid grace emanated from the golden frame as he gained his brother's side, placing his hand on his twin's shoulder.
"Enough," Sunstreaker's rough voice commanded.
Sideswipe fell silent, knowing he had said too much. He couldn't help it. Sometimes, his vocalizer got the better of him.
Sunstreaker turned those foreboding, storm laced optics to Smokescreen, his expression as stone. "Your visitation is at an end. Leave… now."
Smokescreen opened his mouth to remind the golden twin why he was there, but something about the hardness of his gaze stole his resolve. His spark faltered in that annoying way that he was sure the predatory mech could hear. With his internals becoming a tundra, Smokescreen rose on unsteady pedes, noting how Sunstreaker's optics took in his every move. Smokescreen wondered if Sunstreaker was capable of emotion other than the dark scowl that always radiated hatred.
Sideswipe remained quiet, Sunstreaker's hand still on his shoulder. Sunstreaker's optics glittered, his processor awhirl with images on how best to take down a Praxian frame. He caught the Praxian's optics, and felt himself smirk as he noted the fear that radiated from his pale blue optics. His small gesture of knowledge earned a slight tremor through the other mech's frame and Sunstreaker felt grim satisfaction, knowing his stare was causing the reaction.
"He's right," Smokescreen said, his vocalizer fritzing for a second as he choked on his words, noting how Sunstreaker's fathomless gaze seemed to draw him in and drown him in frozen death. "I've taken enough of your time. I shall depart so you may charge."
Sideswipe pouted, rising to his pedes and waving a depressing good bye. "Stop by anytime. We'll be here awhile."
Sunstreaker's hand dropped to his side as he watched Smokescreen nod before leaving. When the mech was out of sight, Sunstreaker turned his gaze toward his twin, Sideswipe offering a shrug and heading to his own berth. He didn't have an explanation. He just liked to talk and it was nice to have a captive audience. Sunstreaker waited several minutes before retaking his own berth, recharge finding him with ease.
Smokescreen made his way to the main command center, his processor working in a haze. He sent out a comm. to his brother to alert him that he had made a preliminary diagnosis and Prowl responded immediately, telling Smokescreen to come to the main briefing room. Smokescreen acknowledged, his steps heavy. His processor was still haunted with the chilling look that Sunstreaker wore and his internals were slow to thaw from the encounter.
Smokescreen heard the summons to enter the indicated room and when he stepped inside he felt his body retaliate all over again. He had expected his brother to be alone in the briefing room, but Prime was present as well. Smokescreen had only ever met the Prime once, and that was briefly when he was first assigned to this unit.
"Prime," Smokescreen said, giving the customary bow of respect.
Prime nodded his head in acknowledgement, finding the oldest Praxian brother to be just as stiff and formal as his younger brother. Must be a family trait.
"Report," Prowl said, looking up from his datapad. Smokescreen should have known his brother would get straight down to business.
"As per requested I have had a consultation with Sideswipe and Sunstreaker," Smokescreen stated, his attention drifting between the two high ranking mechs.
"What is your initial diagnosis?" Prowl asked, his fingers poised over the datapad.
"You are aware they are spark split twins?" Smokescreen asked, wanting to get to the basis for his diagnosis.
"Yes, we are aware," Prowl stated as if the fact wasn't something to be awed and discussed.
"Like all other documented twins, they are violent, even toward each other and show a detachment to the world around them," Smokescreen stated, trying not to twitch in front of the Prime. "They lack empathy and clear disregard to others especially if the situation involves another being harmed or terminated in the execution of a joke."
Prowl typed and gave a nod for his brother to continue.
"Both are highly intelligent with a quick wit but very little use for rules and regulations," Smokescreen said, a doorwing fluttering to ease his nerves. "Sideswipe overcompensates his shortcomings by being playful and amicable, but he lacks the ability to connect to others on any serious level. During my visit I noticed that both bore scars upon their protoforms and their lack of morality may be attributed to the fact of past brutality. His joking behavior is a way to overcome the damage sustained to his spark and body."
"His jocularity is an attempt to… what?" Prowl asked, not quite getting what his brother was saying.
"It's his way of connecting," Smokescreen answered. "He feels attached to those he can make laugh and who think he is funny. His idea of fitting in is to make everything a joke."
Prowl made a low hum, his optics focused on his datapad as he started to type a slow, erratic rhythm, trying to find the best description to fit the ruby twin.
"And Sunstreaker?" Prime prompted, earning a startled look from Smokescreen.
"Sunstreaker enjoys seeing others in pain or fearful, especially of him," Smokescreen said, remembering his own encounter. Primus, he never wanted to meet that mech without energy bars between them. He feared what Sunstreaker would do. "Like Sideswipe, he too lacks a moral compass and delights in seeing others come to harm. There is an underlying cruelty to his personality circuit. Basically, Prime," Smokescreen said, focusing on the one mech who held sway over every soul in the army. "Sunstreaker is a time bomb. Even his systems are ticking in warning and I pity the soul that is caught in his wake when he finally loses control."
"He's that dangerous?" Prime asked in a skeptical tone. Surely one new recruit couldn't be as fearsome as facing off against Megatron.
"Might I remind you Prime,' Smokescreen said in reverence, "That all twins in documented history has displayed the same type of negative emotional instability. Whether it's because of their spark splitting and having to reside in two bodies, or the initial procedure damages something inside, I don't know. In any case, all of the twins had the same thing in common. They are volatile and eventually have to be terminated due to their sociopathic tendencies."
Smokescreen waited a few seconds for the information to sink in and added, his tone a lot softer with the delicacy needed for the topic. "It would be best to end their existence and not let them suffer any longer. Eventually they will lose themselves to violence, becoming so unstable there will be no other alternative."
"No," Prime said simply.
"With their lack of empathy and Sunstreaker's dominating personality, it would be wise to prevent future victims by eliminating the threat now," Smokescreen tried again, hoping to ingrain the sense of urgency toward the twins. "They are extremely dangerous. And with past medical proof against them, I am sorry to report that they too will self destruct, possibly taking innocent lives with them."
"You're professional opinion has been noted and appreciated," Prime said, nodding toward the door in dismissal. "Thank you for your time."
Smokescreen looked to his brother, who was giving Prime a shocked expression, though neither voiced their disagreement with the Prime. Smokescreen gave a nod of acceptance and rose, a door wing fluttering in a jerky pattern as his processor tried to formulate the best possible way of presenting the twins' case. Prime didn't seem to grasp the level of instability and cruelty the duo were capable, and Smokescreen had every intention of making their leader aware of all the options.
"Prime," Smokescreen said, bowing in reverence before taking his leave.
Prime rose from his chair and went to one of the many wide, sweeping windows that decorated the conference room. His gaze lingered on the soldiers in the square, all polished and poised and barking answers to their superiors. Most looked barely into their adult frames, yet they held themselves with a veterans grace.
"What are your orders concerning Sideswipe and Sunstreaker?" Prowl prompted, hoping that his leader would see reason and demand they be sent to a detention center for terminal cases.
"They are to serve their time and then will report to me," Prime said, his gaze lingering on his weapons specialist who sent a mech to his knees, weeping. Ironhide did have a way with the truth and its delivery.
"You do not think they pose a threat?" Prowl asked, his usual façade of indifference pushed aside as he allowed his concern to show.
"I think they deserve a chance," Prime said, turning and noting the emotion on his trusted advisors face. It was rare such things graced his features.
"Statistics show that they will cause more damage than the enemy," Prowl pressed, hoping to make his leader understand the danger of letting the two menaces into the ranks. "All twins before them have been unstable and needed to be terminated. You heard my brother's diagnosis. The probability that Sideswipe and Sunstreaker will follow the same destructive path is ninety-eight point seven percent."
"The odds are against them, that is for certain," Prime said, turning away and looking out the window to the courtyard beyond. "But I have to give them the benefit of the doubt."
"They hold no such debt," Prowl said, wondering if Prime realized the vulgarity of the songs the twins had taught to their cell block for before cast into solitude. "They should be removed from our ranks and remanded to the correctional facility for termination."
Prime turned from the courtyard and gave his officer a stern look. "No. I will not allow innocents to come to harm due to the past transgression of others."
"Innocents?" Prowl barked in shock, his frame rigid, his doorwings arched high. "Prime, you are aware.."
Prowl's words were interrupted when Prime raised a hand. As soon as he made the gesture, Prowl fell silent, respectfully listening to his leader.
"Everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves and show that they have worth," Prime said, knowing that Prowl was probably going to be blowing a circuit. In fact, there was a chance his weapons master and medic were going to be needing medical attention as well. "You may not agree and have already condemned them to their fate, but I will allow them to continue their service. They will be welcomed back among the ranks and not condemned for crimes never committed."
"As you command," Prowl said, his stern countenance back into place. He knew arguing with Prime would only earn him a stint in the brig. And he had no intention of incurring Prime's ire.
"Alert me when their sentence is up," Prime said, giving his officer a steely gaze, softened by the gentleness of his optics. "And bring them to me. I wish to meet them."
"They have been saying some unfavorable things about you," Prowl said, not elaborating for obvious reasons. Prowl didn't understand the designations and titles used in their vocalizations, and had to reference them. Needless to say, it had been a long time since he felt his face plates heat to that level.
"Allow me to deal with the issues," Prime said, returning his gaze to the courtyard, and the soldiers that littered the square. "Perhaps after all everyone has told them, they just need someone to listen to them for a change."
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Next chapter will be a request! Whoot!
