Hiding In the Sun
AN: THANK YOU AlexLuke for your continued support and feedback! You're slagging AWESOME!
AN 2: HAPPY NEW YEAR to all my readers! Sorry about the delay in uploading but its been a hectic two weeks. Be sure to check out my TMNT stories, available here and at archiveofourown dot org.
OXOXO to all!
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"Sunstreaker?" Bluestreak whispered in the dark.
"Here," Sunstreaker answered before coughing dust from his vents. "You hurt?"
"My legs are trapped, and I can't really feel them. My shoulder junction is warped," Bluestreak reported. "How're you?"
"Just groovy," Sunstreaker sighed, trying to shift the rubble off himself. "My right side is severely compromised, but I have been able to stave off the energon flow so I don't bleed out."
"Can you turn on your lights?" Bluestreak asked meekly.
"Can't. No lights on chest like some models," Sunstreaker announced. "Can you turn on yours?"
"No," Bluestreak whimpered. Bluestreak hated the dark.
"How's the doorwings?" Sunstreaker asked.
"Some damage, but I was able to disable the sensors," Bluestreak said. "Thank Primus Prowl taught me how. I'd probably be a screaming maniac by now."
"Don't knock it until you've tried it," Sunstreaker quipped.
Bluestreak thought about Sunstreaker's words for a moment before blushing in the dark. "Sorry."
"Don't be," Sunstreaker said, realizing he was more severely compromised than what he originally thought. He doubted he could move more than just his left arm and helm, though both retained limited mobility. Severed lines, crushed panels, dents, dings, horrible scratches that would take weeks to buff out, ruptured hoses, all in all, Sunstreaker didn't fair so well on this little excursion. But that wasn't his concern at the moment. Knowing Bluestreak had a tendency to panic, Sunstreaker stretched out his good arm, groping in the dark. When he found metal he paused, knocking his knuckles against it. "What is that? What part am I touching?"
"Top of my helm," Bluestreak answered, wincing from Sunstreaker's sharp rap.
"Good. Didn't want you to think I was doing something weird," Sunstreaker said before placing his hand over the smooth surface of Bluestreak's forehead. It was the only contact he could maintain, and Bluestreak would need comforting. He had issues about being injured, in the dark, and alone. Though Sunstreaker wasn't the best of company, at least he could maintain his cool and therefore, Bluestreak could copy the older mech's attitude and not panic.
"My transponder isn't working,' Bluestreak said, closing his optics as Sunstreaker caressed his helm. It was soothing. Like what his creator used to do to calm him when he was a youngling.
"Mine's down as well,' Sunstreaker said, checking his HUD. "But there's so much slag scrolling through my diagnostics, it's hard to tell."
"How will the others find us?" Bluestreak asked, his voice controlled, measured. He was trying hard not to panic.
"Sideswipe has sensed my sudden panic and pain,' Sunstreaker said. "He can hone in on me no matter where I am. He's a bloodhound that way."
Bluestreak snickered, imaging a giant red bloodhound sniffing Sunstreaker down.
"Do you know where we are?" Sunstreaker asked, unable to see due to the enclosed space.
"I believe it's an aquifer," Bluestreak answered after a moment. "This is Nevada. It's notorious for having underground aquifers that feed water to surrounding towns. This one must have been emptied for some time. It was just our dumb luck that we happened to find it."
"Luck nothing,' Sunstreaker groused, gusting air out of his vents again. The dust was starting to clog his systems. His brother better hurry up or there was going to be slag to pay. "Slagging Conehead."
"Yeah, thanks for saving me," Bluestreak said, angling his helm to push his head into Sunstreaker's palm like a puppy seeking affection. "Dirge would have slagged me for sure!"
"Not going to happen with me around." Sunstreaker gave Bluestreak's helm a tender pat.
He had noticed the idiotic Conehead flying near where Bluestreak was hiding and before Sunstreaker sounded the alert, Dirge dipped and had himself a grey captive. Sunstreaker diverted Thundercacker, whom he was riding, to intercept.
The two air frames jockeyed for position until Dirge dropped Bluestreak to the ground below. Sunstreaker followed, veering his ride into the other aerial frame and making both crash. Sunstreaker really wanted to go slag them both for causing him so much headache, but Bluestreak was his top priority.
The gunner wasn't able to stand with his wobbly legs, his shocks unable to take the height at which he was dropped. Sunstreaker looked around and realized the duo were at least two miles from where they started. Dirge and Thundercracker were already leaving dual smoke trails across the sky, back to the main skirmish. As Sunstreaker looped Bluestreak's arm over his shoulder and started back to the battle, there was a deep rumbling. Before either could react, the ground fell out from beneath them.
And now here they were.
Trapped... in the dark.
"Ratchet's going to be so mad," Bluestreak muttered.
"He'll be madder at the seekers than with us," Sunstreaker corrected. "And once he realizes how the battle could have gone, I'm sure he'll only give us a couple of hits. Nothing too serious."
Bluestreak shuddered, the tremors traveling through Sunstreaker's hand and up his arm.
"It's okay, Blue. Ratchet won't hit you. He'll hit me. He always does."
"How can you be so causal about it?" Bluestreak asked.
Sunstreaker shrugged the good shoulder. "His punishments aren't that bad. There's nothing wrong with getting whacked a few times. Sideswipe thinks it's a game. Find out how many hits he can take before Ratchet knocks him cold."
"That's twisted," Bluestreak said.
"Yeah, well, that's Sideswipe," Sunstreaker said, the smile evident in his voice.
"He worries me sometimes," Bluestreak admitted. "Especially when he's riling up Ratchet or Prowl. Sometimes, I can hear Prowl yelling in his office."
"Sideswipe said Prowl has a strong, loud voice. When he wants to use it."
"Oh, Sideswipe isn't in the room when Prowl vents," Bluestreak imparted. "When he gets really upset, he shouts in his office. Jazz says he's even thrown things. If you can believe that."
"Oh, I would." Sunstreaker sighed. "My brother can be a handful."
"Don't tell Sideswipe I said that," Bluestreak begged. "He'll use it against Prowl somehow."
"Slagger would probably think it was a milestone or something," Sunstreaker said. "Don't worry, Blue. The secret is safe with me."
"Thanks." Bluestreak sighed in relief.
Silence fell. Sunstreaker's vents occasionally kicking out dust and Bluestreak's frame creaked in the dark as rubble shifted around them.
Sunstreaker was thrilled Bluestreak wasn't panicking. He had witnessed some of Bluestreak's more memorable breakdowns. They weren't pretty. But sometimes, the grey Praxian was strangely calm.
"I'm not used to you being this quiet," Sunstreaker said after a long pause.
"I know how you don't like company," Bluestreak said, wishing there was some light in the dark recess where they were buried. "Just figured you didn't want to hear me prattle on. I know it gets on your nerves circuits."
Sunstreaker recalled all the times Bluestreak had chattered on and Sunstreaker came close to ripping out his vocalizer. For some reason, he didn't mind the talking at the moment. Perhaps it was the fact both were buried under earth and rock, badly damaged, and Bluestreak was notorious for being scared.
It was nice the gunner could trust him enough to not be afraid and thoughtful that he didn't want to talk and cause Sunstreaker any anguish. Sunstreaker was rather unpredictable.
Bluestreak's venting was becoming labored, though by pain or panic, Sunstreaker couldn't be sure. Either way, he didn't like the noise. It was best to distract Bluestreak from what was happening.
"How about, you talk to feel comfortable, and if you start to annoy me, I'll tell you to shut up. Deal?"
Bluestreak smiled in the dark. "Deal."
"Good. Now, tell me why are you so afraid of the dark?"
Bluestreak trembled, causing Sunstreaker's hand to press firmly along his forehead. "Sorry. Didn't mean to upset you."
"It's okay. Smokescreen says I need to talk about it. It'll make me feel better."
"Smokescreen," Sunstreaker grunted. "Moron."
"He's helped me," Bluestreak said. "I used to be a lot worse. I'd talk so much, that my roommate tried to terminate me one cycle."
"What?" Sunstreaker asked, already plotting this roommate's demise. No one hurt Bluestreak. Not while Sunstreaker functioned.
"Yeah. I, umm… talk sometimes in my charge." Bluestreak was glad it was dark. He knew he was blushing.
"Why am I not surprised?" Sunstreaker quipped, hoping to lighten the mood. He still wanted to kill that roommate. Maybe after the war, if the roommate was still functioning, Sunstreaker could track him down and have a few words?
"It's because I was trapped for so long in the silence," Bluestreak said, trying to inject levity into his voice. The situation was familiar to his current predicament. He didn't want to think about that. "Smokescreen has helped."
"Really?" Sunstreaker was doubtful.
"Oh yes," Bluestreak confirmed. "I used to have terrible recharging habits. Couldn't charge for long stretches of time because every time I shuttered my optics, I was reminded of being trapped. So, after talking about it, Smokescreen took me through stages so I wouldn't be afraid."
"How so?" Sunstreaker asked. He was genuinely curious. Takes some pretty strong treatments to break someone of such an ingrain fear.
"We started out sitting in his office with our optics off. When I got used to that, he turned the lights off, but I could hold his hands and my doorwings could sense him. It was scary at first, but then I started to get used to it and then Smokescreen started to fade away, first cutting the vibrations in his doorwings, then releasing my hands until I could sit in the dark and not have to cling to him."
"I'm afraid to ask how long that took,' Sunstreaker said. He couldn't imagine a 'treatment' for the things he had been through.
"Then he brought in a blanket."
"Blanket?"
"Yes, a light blanket and we sat under it, together. When it was okay for me to be alone, he put the blanket over me and didn't join me. When I was used to that, he put some empty energon cubes on my lap and the tops of my pedes."
"Trying to get you used to the weight," Sunstreaker hazarded.
"Yeah. The idea of things on top of me, in the dark, was a real problem. But after he tried something new, he would go back a couple steps, repeating what I was familiar with to make me comfortable. Then try again."
"Two steps forward, one step back," Sunstreaker repeated the human idiom.
"I was to always go to my safety zone," Bluestreak said. "When I could handle being surrounded by energon cubes, Smokescreen had me to cover myself with them several times, letting my subconscious know that there was a way out and that I have it in me to be proactive in my situation. Fear doesn't need to rule me."
"Sounds like he knows his stuff," Sunstreaker commented, then frowned. He didn't want word getting back to Smokescreen. Slagger would be the Pit to live with.
"Smokescreen also taught me to talk, to help alleviate stress."
"How did that work out?" Sunstreaker smirked.
"At first, I couldn't speak. Not after Praxus fell. Then, Smokescreen coaxed me into talking and once I started, it was hard to stop."
"Why do you think that is?" Sunstreaker asked. He didn't know he was emulating Smokescreen. Had he realized it, he probably would have turned the conversation into a new direction.
"My vocalizer was damaged when my quarters fell on top of me,' Bluestreak explained. "The medics were able to fix it, but I feared that if I talked, then everything that happened would be real. As long as I was quiet, it never happened. Then Smokescreen explained that I needed to talk about it because then I could start putting it behind me. Move on."
"It doesn't do to wallow in the past," Sunstreaker mentally slapped himself as soon as the words were out of his vocalizer. Since when did he become so cliché?
"I wanted to put it all behind me. So I started to talk. And talk and talk and talk." Bluestreak gave a weak chuckle. "If you think I can talk now, you should have seen me when I first started to open up."
"Has anyone ever clocked your mouth?" Sunstreaker quipped. He was thankful he had missed that part of Blue's rehabilitation.
"Prowl said it's near warp speed," Bluestreak laughed.
"Oh, if only we could power the ship with your jaws," Sunstreaker snickered.
Bluestreak started laughing but quickly stopped when there was a deep rumbling and more limestone and chalky dust fell upon the two Autobots. Bluestreak's voice was meek, and though he tried to control it, borderline panic.
"Are you sure the others will be able to find us?"
"No doubt about it," Sunstreaker said, patting the gunner's helm in an attempt to calm him. "Sideswipe is already on his way."
"How do you know?" Bluestreak asked.
"I can feel the slagger," Sunstreaker admitted. "He's worried, annoyed, and that's battling against the joy he feels because he probably sent a Con skidding on their aft plates."
"He does enjoy beating on Cons," Bluestreak commented.
"Slagger. He's lucky I don't terminate him in his charge," Sunstreaker uttered.
A soft sigh escaped Bluestreak's vents. "I can't remember the name of my brother. He was lost when the first riots swept through Praxus, the vorn before Megatron's campaign that razed the city."
Sunstreaker suddenly wanted to kick himself. "Sorry, Blue."
"It's okay. Smokescreen said it's hard to mourn for something that was never there, so it's best just to put it in the past and move on."
"What? He didn't want to analyze everything and want you to dwell on it endlessly?" Sunstreaker sighed. He rolled his optics but Bluestreak couldn't see him.
"He said it doesn't do to dwell on things you can't change. To put the past behind and use it as reference, to the future."
"Sounds like a fortune cookie," Sunstreaker snorted, then coughed dust from his vents. His intakes were compromised, causing his internals to heat to an alarming level. If help didn't arrive soon, Sunstreaker may cook to death.
"He said it's what he's learned from losing his two brothers," Bluestreak imparted.
"Smokescreen had brothers?" Sunstreaker was beyond shocked. Which probably didn't help his temperature spikes.
"They raised him and put him through schooling," Bluestreak said, feeling a sense of pride that he knew something the golden warrior didn't. "One was an enforcer, like Prowl used to be. The other was studying to be a medic."
"How did they terminate?" Sunstreaker asked. He felt ashamed to ask but also curious. It was a sad thing but sometimes to understand the grief, one had to know all aspects of the tragedy.
"The Enforcer was killed by a smuggling bot who escaped custody, and the other was killed off planet at a colony when a transport blew its fuel tank."
"I didn't know," Sunstreaker muttered. Suddenly, he felt bad about smacking the blue Praxian around when he was scheduled for 'sessions' during the first pangs of war.
Most bots couldn't handle the stress of battle, but the twins strived, excelling to the point of outperforming their instructors and taking responsibility for wiping out entire regiments. They had earned a reputation for being flamboyant, risk taking, borderline suicidal, and had been ordered to be evaluated.
Smokescreen had not faired well from any of those encounters. The last time the twins were scheduled, he had a nervous breakdown and was sedated in medbay for a month. Ratchet beat some sense into the twins and thus, the pattern started.
"Sunstreaker, can I ask you something?" Blue asked in the dark.
"Sure," he said, hoping to keep Blue distracted.
"Are you afraid of…anything?" Bluestreak asked softly. "You fight on the front lines, even facing Megatron without flinching. You aren't afraid of the dark or anything on this planet. So, what are you afraid of?"
Sunstreaker thought for a moment. There wasn't much that frightened him. If anything, whatever was making him fearful or uneasy was met with a violent fist. Sunstreaker's first instinct was to battle his fears, meeting them head on and subduing them instead of cowering or trying to run away from them.
"Sorry if that's over the line," Bluestreak said when Sunstreaker didn't answer immediately. "Didn't mean to pry."
"It's okay," Sunstreaker said, giving Blue's helm an affectionate pat. "I guess the only thing I really fear is Sideswipe."
"Your brother? Why?" Blue asked.
"Slagger is an aft head and one day he'll get himself killed, probably due to a joke or accidentally electrocuting himself." Sunstreaker sighed, coughing dust from his vents. His systems were near critical. "He's about as safe as Wheeljack when it comes to experimenting with things he should avoid."
"But, Sideswipe is smart." Blue coughed through his vents, fans whirling as his systems were overheating from the strain.
"Not really," Sunstreaker quipped, hoping to keep Bluestreak's interest on their conversation and not the sweltering heat they were experiencing from overheating frames. "Most of his is pure dumb luck. A few times, he's nearly terminated himself. But no matter how injured he becomes, how many times Ratchet beats his aft, how many times I've sent him to medbay, slagger still has to pull his little practical jokes."
"He does seem to enjoy keeping everyone on their pede-tips," Bluestreak said, then whimpered as the rock shifted overhead, sending a thick plume of dust over the two downed warriors.
"Shhh," Sunstreaker soothed, petting Bluestreak's chevron. "It's okay, Blue. Stay calm."
"We're going to terminate!" Blue squeaked, ventilation hitching a little as panic began to creep into his circuits.
"No, we're not. I won't let you!" Sunstreaker growled, placing his entire hand over Bluestreak's face as if to blot out the gunner's features.
Sunstreaker's spark flipped in its casing, letting him know his twin was near. Which was a good thing. His internal diagnostics showed his temp had reached critical level. Sunstreaker strained his audios and sure enough, he could hear his brother's frantic voice in the distance.
"My brother is here," Sunstreaker said, his fingers clamping Blue's jaws shut so the gunner wouldn't interrupt and continue to panic. As he hoped, Blue relaxed, though his fans whirled on high. "Just stay calm and focus on me, Blue."
Bluestreak nodded, gusting air through his vents, but it did little to dispel the heat. A high pitched whine echoed from his engine as his own internals reached critical levels.
Rock groaned. Dust fell, clogging vents and causing both mechs to cough and wheeze. The ground shuddered below.
Bluestreak whined softly, "Sunny?"
Sunstreaker didn't mind the horrid nickname. He patted Bluestreak's face, but the action was halted when a chunk of rock fell on his hand, smashing it into the gunner's nasal ridge.
Hoping to cut off Bluestreak's imagination, Sunstreaker spoke.
"They're shifting the rock, Blue. It's going to move around us, but they're almost here. Just hold still and get ready to vent heavily when we're free. We don't want to slag off Ratchet about having clogged vents."
Bluestreak's answer was muffled under a large servo and heavy rock.
As Sunstreaker predicted, there was another shift in rock, then came the glorious sound of Sideswipe's call.
"Hey, Bro, you down there?"
"Where else would I be?" Sunstreaker answered.
A giant rock was moved away to reveal the brothers to one another.
"Blue with you?" Sideswipe asked, picking up the smaller clasts and handing them off to other bots.
"He's right here," Sunstreaker confirmed. He gusted fresh cool air through his vents and heard Bluestreak do the same.
A minute later and the rock pinning Sunstreaker's hand to Blue's face was removed, allowing the golden mech to retract his hand.
Sunstreaker was helped out of the rocky pit and placed on stable ground, Ratchet hovering over him as an angry white hornet. Sunstreaker had enough venom to hiss and bare his denta at the medic before stasis claimed him.
Bluestreak was placed beside Sunstreaker while Ratchet worked. The gunner stared worriedly at the inert golden frame.
"Congratulations, Blue," Sideswipe said, standing proudly over the Praxian. "You survived a fate worse than termination." He pointed to his unconscious twin. "Being stuck alone with Sunstreaker."
"I don't know how you do it," Bluestreak quipped, keeping Sunstreaker's surly, sociopath reputation in tact.
No one would ever know how much he helped Bluestreak. How calm and supportive he had been. How he made Blue feel safe, despite being buried alive. Sunstreaker gave him hope. Even going against his nature and offering comfort to a terrified and panicky spark who feared the dark and the terrible things it held.
But not with Sunstreaker.
The darkness was afraid of him.
Sunstreaker was the safeguard that kept all their sparks beating. His ferocity and vicious nature ensured the monsters, both Decepticon and imaginary, were kept at bay.
Bluestreak feared the day when the golden warrior was no longer able to fight.
And there would be no one to stop the darkness.
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