When the Sun Goes Down
AN: THANK YOU TO MY AWESOME SUPPORTERS: ALEXLUKE, GIRAFFECHAN, and RAP BEAR! Your feedback is much appreciated! I can't wait to take on the next projects because of your encouragement (and yes, pointing out my mistakes or letting me know what I've missed and needs rectified.) :D
AN2: APOLOGIES TO READERS as this chapter switches gears, yet again, and goes dark. Please bear in mind, none of these chapters are in order and none are set in stone. They can be from many universes/alt realities. I've only done two other chapters along this line so I thought I would toss out another variation and hope y'all don't string me up for it. (author slinks away to hide at an undisclosed location until Red Alert deems it safe to return to computer)
AN3: Can you believe this fic has over 2000 reviews? :O OMG! I can't believe it! It's been an AMAZING ride! THANK YOU TO ALL LOYAL READERS and REVIEWERS!
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It was a quiet day on the ARK. A somber occasion, and a rarity because of the turmoil and insanity that plagues a battlefront. But the battle was over and the Cons in disarray, scattering to the solar winds as Starscream lost the cohesion of his unit.
Apparently no one wanted to follow the insane seeker except his trine. And their loyalties were wavering in favor of alighting to the stars and seeking a solitary life to ease their battle hardened sparks.
The war was over. Victory had finally been claimed by the Autobots.
But instead of the Autobots rejoicing and boasting of their victory, there was only sadness and heavy sparks. The final tally of the war had been astronomical, but the main casualties were felt in every spark of the ARK members.
Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had perished.
Mirage's missing arm, Hound's shattered optics, Bumblebee's compromised spark chamber, Prime's crushed shoulder and a list of wounds that stretched far beyond Ratchet's ability to remain sane. After stabilizing Bee, Ratchet had had become cold, distant, barking orders and throwing tools without the usual soft landings.
Now when he tossed something, it was with little care and a lot of venom, causing more injuries.
Ratchet cursed fluently, raged, yelled, and opted to punch his patients out instead of initiating a shut down sequence.
When the troops were in danger of being terminated by their own medic, Prime had stepped in and knocked Ratchet out, sending the medic to the floor of his own med bay.
Wheeljack, Perceptor and Swoop were able to keep everyone alive until Ratchet regained his senses. Sort of. When he awoke, he scanned everyone, triaging them according to injury and set to work.
Not another word was spoken. Not another tool thrown. He simply went from patient to patient, performing his duties and remaining distracted from the world around him. Hours passed in such a state until he collapsed, a victim of underfueling and lack of charge.
Everyone knew what had caused the change in the medic's demeanor. His two favorite patients were gone, never to darken his medbay again. As their fire had went out, so hadn't Ratchet's.
It would have been easier if there were bodies to lay to rest, but the blast had wiped out everyone in the vicinity.
Megatron was operating Starscream's latest weapon and either by chance, or devious seeker, the device had created a looping overload. As Megatron tried to flee, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker launched themselves at the gunformer and pinned him to the smoking consul.
Soundwave saw his master in peril and went to assist, the weapon whining in its final death throes.
Sunstreaker used his weight to keep Megatron in place, aware of the final outcome. It was a sacrifice he and Sideswipe were happy to make. The end of the war and an end to Megatron's tyranny.
Sunstreaker leaned over Megatron's snarling face, his own perfect features flickering as a demonic angel as he sneered, "I win."
Megatron screamed in protest, flailing madly to escape, but the weapon had reached critical mass. With a sudden explosion of white and yellow, the device sent out fiery plumes into the air.
Soundwave had barely touched Sideswipe's shoulder when the device went nuclear. All four were vaporized, the ultrasonic boom ripping through the atmosphere knocking down every Cybertronian and tree. Birds were thrown to the ground. Woodland creatures were rendered deaf and disoriented.
And then…. Silence.
No one moved. No one spoke.
They simply stared in disbelief at the place where the warlord had been held immobile by two avenging angels.
No one could believe the sacrifice that was made by the two front liners. No one could believe Megatron was now obliterated, bested by the true champions of the Pit, never to curse an innocent world again with his bloodlust and hunger for power.
And now, a week later, the ARK had yet to find a balance. To make sense of what had transpired.
Yes, Megatron was gone. That was the intended goal of the campaign. Freedom and peace returned to the war ravaged Cybertron. Displaced refugees were returning home to rebuild their world.
It was a cause for celebration and great joy.
But not on Earth.
Not for the Autobots.
There were no parties. No high grade. No cheers and celebrations for a war long fought and hard won.
Small smatterings of conversation broke out, but it inevitably drifted to the twins and the fate that had taken them from the loving arms of their friends turned adoptive family.
In a rare display of emotion, Prowl had mentioned some humans honor their dead by wearing black arm bands, or in some cases, a black band across a shield or symbol. Electrical tape now covered every Autobot sigil in two stripes.
Prowl was tasked with cleaning out the twins room, and to no one's surprise, Jazz volunteered to help. It was when they were cleaning out the stacks of data files, and it was amazing how many storage devices the twins managed to collect, Prowl found something that piqued his interest.
It was a datadisc labeled in Sideswipe's print 'Will and Unwilling.'
Curious, and the tactician never used to experience such illogical emotions, Prowl placed the disc in the scanner and a smiling Sideswipe greeted the camera, alerting the commanders that the disc was a 'Will,' and they wished it be viewed by the entire Autobot forces.
Prime had agreed, setting aside time to allow those grieving the chance to say goodbye. Reverently, he had assembled pictures to line the wall in the rec room, adorning Sunstreaker's favorite corner.
Tokens of affection were left on the table draped with a black cloth. Two cubes of high grade sat amongst the mementos, a tribute to the two mechs who gave their lives to stop evil.
For the past week, the survivors entered the rec room to collect their fuel and pause by the table, admiring the pictures and memorial, saying a little prayer to Primus that the twins would find peace in the Well.
As for Megatron?
Well, they hoped he was being reamed by the Unmaker and violated in every way imaginable.
A few bots had paused to think on Soundwave who was entombed with his master, taken down by Megatron's power hungry schemes. It was such a shame, and a waste of a talented, loyal, honest mech.
Word had reached the ARK that Soundwave's cassettes were found upon the field of battle, terminated from the loss of their carrier.
As a weary group, the Autobots converged in the rec room, some paying reverence to their newfound freedom, others looking forlorn toward the proceedings.
When everyone was assembled, Prime stood, addressing his soldiers, his subordinates, his … family.
"We come together today to honor the lives of those we lost. Who paid the ultimate price to end this conflict. We pay tribute to you, Sideswipe," Prime raised a glass of high grade toward the memorial, "And to you, Sunstreaker. Your friendship, loyalty, and sparks will always be remembered by those who called you 'friend.'"
"Family," Ratchet amended with a grunt.
Prime paused, giving a solemn nod. "To our brothers. May they find peace in the Well and greet us when we are once again united."
The sentiment was echoed around the room. Even Prowl raised a glass and downed half its contents before pausing and staring into the swirling pink liquid.
The high grade was the last batch brewed by the twins, Prowl and Jazz having found the secret panel in the twins' quarters and removed several high octane cubes.
Though Prowl never cared for the taste, he appreciated the bitter sweetness that filled his analyzers. A perfect match to the twins. Tart and tangy and almost sickly sweet, it was the perfect contrast.
"I never thought this day would come," Jazz said, his usual cheerful attitude was dark and haunted.
"Nor I," Prowl added. He rubbed the area above his spark chamber. A dull ache had been present since the last battle.
"And now, we have a video that Sideswipe has left behind as a Will," Prime said, clearing his vents, hoping no one noticed his voice cracking. It was taking all of his resolve to face this harsh and ugly truth.
Sure the twins had been a handful and most often than not, they caused an uproar amongst their comrades. Sideswipe loved his practical jokes and Sunstreaker enjoyed solitude and artistic expression, and both had a natural proclivity toward violence and mayhem. It's what made them so effective on the battlefront.
The room darkened and the large screen lit up with Sideswipe's wickedly handsome face. He waved like a maniac.
"Hey guys! If you're seeing this, I'm probably pushing up lugnuts. Sunny's probably with me, but if he isn't," Sideswipe's optics pretended to scan the crowd, "you guys look out for him, okay? I know he's a handful but he has a good spark. Really. Don't let his fists and scowl fool you. Watch over him and keep him safe. He'll need someone to watch his back if I'm no longer there."
"As I understand this human concept, we're supposed to tell people what we want them to have when we're gone," Sideswipe continued. "If Sunny is there, he'll know what everyone gets. If we're both gone, then we bequeath… that's the right word, right? Bequeath? Sounds funny, but oh well. Humans are strange creatures, so what the slag ever."
A couple of laughs went through the Autobot ranks.
"Don't really have a lot to give away, but there's a few things I want certain people to have," Sideswipe said, optics alight. "Prime, there's a datadisc marked 'E14EVR.'"
Sideswipe offered a little blush, the closest he'd ever come to truly being embarrassed. "I…uh… have always had a bit of a crush on Elita One. The disc has a lot of pictures and vid feeds from Cybertron." Sideswipe's optics grew wide as he added hastily, "It's nothing bad, I promise. I don't have anything remotely perverted when it comes to your bondmate."
Prime's mouth was hanging in open in shock. He never knew Sideswipe had such feelings toward his spark mate.
Sideswipe beamed in a rather childish, innocent way, belying his many millennia.
"I met her several times during Sunny's exhibitions. She really made an impression on me. I see why you chose her." Sideswipe's brilliant blue optics sparkled. "I hope this war ends so you can get back to her. Keep her safe… Optimus."
Prime lowered his head, grieving deep in his spark.
"Prowl, you sexy doorwinged bastard," Sideswipe said, totally flipping the emotional switch and turning a 180. "Remember when you thought you lost your Praxian singing crystals during the crash? Well, I kinda stole the big one and it kinda had babies and I planned on presenting you with a small Praxian garden, but you'll have to get them prematurely."
It was Prowl's turn to stare slack jawed at the confession monitor.
"Third panel on the left of my berth," Sideswipe said. "The plate that has an impression of my face from where Sunshine slammed me into the wall during one of our little arguments. Push the panel in and then to the left. It will reveal the crystals. Be sure to sing to them at least once a week. Maybe after the war, you can use the fragments to reseed the Praxian gardens?"
Prowl hid his face in his servos, his doorwings falling lax along his back.
"Ratchet, baby, sweet oil, Pit Spawn demon mech, if you want to know what happened to your favorite spanner, you'll find it two panels up from Prowl's singing crystals. There also might be a screwdriver, a hammer, maybe a few other tools that just happened to wander off and find a home in there."
Ratchet scowled at the screen, wishing he could throttle and hug the bane of his existence one more time.
"I took excellent care of them, don't worry," Sideswipe continued, not realizing (or maybe so) all the wrath that he had avoided by admitting to the theft while terminated. If Ratchet knew before his termination, there was a chance Sideswipe would have perished at the medic's hands. "Thanks for keeping me and Sunny functioning. I know it wasn't easy, Ratchet. But we really appreciated all the hard work and care you took of us."
Ratchet's expression instantly dropped. Tears rolled down his cheeks once again. They were becoming a permanent fixture to his features now.
"Oh, and Ratchet?" Sideswipe said, waiting a moment to get the medic's undivided attention, "Thanks for expanding our vocabulary, too. The gladiatorial pit had nothing on you!"
Ratchet smirked, optics watery and blurred.
"Three panels to the right, and Wheeljack, you'll find some of your missing tools," Sideswipe said, offering a shrug of indifference. "Figured you'd need them for fixing Cybertron after the war, and you're notorious for destruction, so I was keeping them safe for you."
Wheeljack's helm fins flickered a pale blue. He wasn't cheerful to hear the news of his long lost tools. His spark was weighing heavy with the loss of such a brilliant, funny, and beautiful spark.
"Oh, and before I forget, under my berth, on the right side, you'll find the formulas we used for making high grade. Just because we're gone doesn't mean you guys should settle for anything less than the best! You've earned it! Drink up! Don't mourn for me, or Sunshine if he's with me. Celebrate us. Celebrate freedom. Celebrate… family."
Sideswipe's servo reached forward, touching the screen as if reaching out to his lost friends. He withdrew, smiling in that boyishly charming way.
"That's it for me." Sideswipe leaned back in his seat, cocking his head to the side as if hearing something. "I'll see if I can talk my little ball of Sunshine into adding a few words. Not promising anything. You know how he is."
Sideswipe paused, offering that serene, dastardly handsome look.
"I love you guys. Remember that."
The screen went blank. Many in the room shifted, not sure how to respond. Jazz checked the datachip and found that only a small fraction had been viewed. There was still a lot to go through.
The screen lit up to find both twins looking impassive at the camera. In fact, they appeared to be imitating Prowl's attitude. The SIC's doorwings hiked up ever so slightly, but no one noticed.
"I don't want to do this," Sunstreaker said, lip components barely moving. He looked like a training ventriloquist.
"Though shit," Sideswipe said, just as deadpan.
"I joined the Autobots because my idiot twin did," Sunstreaker said quickly, before looking away and venting a deep sigh.
"I joined because I figured the Decepticons would be a bad influence on us," Sideswipe said with a straight face.
Sunstreaker's head whipped around so fast his neck gave a grinding noise that had him wincing.
"What?" Sunstreaker asked.
"We already have the brutal, inflicting pain part well learned,' Sideswipe said with a shrug. He turned his attention to his brother, allowing the camera the opportunity to be the proverbial fly on the wall to their conversation. "We needed someone to teach us how to be responsible, intelligent, coordinated soldiers. The Autobots provided that."
"Are your nuts loose?" Sunstreaker asked, staring at his twin in disbelief.
"We had the 'bad' part down pat, but what we needed was for someone to teach us some… 'good'. Mechs who could be a positive influence and could teach us about the things we didn't know or scared us."
"Like what?" Sunstreaker gaped.
"Caring about someone else," Sideswipe added, offering a partial shrug. "Love."
"I don't love anyone," Sunstreaker said, giving his brother a look that meant he lost his mind.
"I know you do," Sideswipe argued. "I can feel it when you're not blocking me."
"Liar," Sunstreaker said, turning toward the camera and giving a startled look. He forgot the contraption was there.
"You love everyone. Admit it," Sideswipe said, touching his chest plate. "You can't lie because I can feel your true emotions."
"Its gas," Sunstreaker said, mouth compressing into a thin line. He didn't like where his brother was headed.
"Go ahead, say it," Sideswipe prompted.
"I don't want to," Sunstreaker growled, folding arms across his chassis and glaring sullenly.
"Everyone thinks you possess Prowl's range of emotions," Sideswipe said, then turned to the screen and added, "No offence Prowl," before returning his attention to his brother. "So show them they were wrong and say it."
"I said I don't want to," Sunstreaker rumbled through clenched jaws.
"I won't leave you alone until you do," Sideswipe promised.
"Slagger," Sunstreaker sighed, looking away and focusing his attention on something off camera.
"Say… it…" Sideswipe drawled in an expectant tone.
"No," Sunstreaker answered stubbornly.
"You're going to be terminated when everyone sees this, so there's no harm in saying it," Sideswipe said, using some psychological techniques he learned from Smokescreen.
"Alright, slag it!" Sunstreaker snapped, unwrapping his arms and clenching his fists as he looked to the screen in angered submission. "I love everyone! Ranting Ratchet, sugar coated Prime, stuck up Prowl, Wheeljack's crazy aft, and yes, I even moderately like the minibots!" He turned to Sideswipe and added, "I even love you, despite my better judgment!"
Sideswipe didn't get the opportunity to respond because Sunstreaker's fist collided with his face and knocked him cold.
Sunstreaker turned to the camera and snarled, "I hate you all!"
The screen went blank before the twins reappeared, the time stamp showing that some time had elapsed.
"Before I forget about the reason why I made this little video, I wanted to get something off my spark," Sideswipe said, keeping optic contact with the camera. It was like he was looking into the soul of every Autobot watching the recording. "I know we made your lives a living Pit and for that, I'm really sorry. We really didn't mean to hurt everyone's feelings."
"Why don't you just give everyone a hug while you're alive and save the sentimental scrap for the soft sparks?" Sunstreaker jibed as sour as ever.
"Shut up, I'm being sincere here," Sideswipe snapped.
"More like a sappy idiot who thinks emotions are a good thing," Sunstreaker said, glaring at the camera and adding, "back me up on this, Prowl."
Prowl sat stunned, a door wing flicking. Most believed him to be stolid with a stick up his aft. But that was far from the truth. Prowl cared, deeply, he only chose not to show it.
At least, until recently.
Many times he had been caught staring distractedly into the distance, as if his optics were reliving a time long past, or expecting something waiting just around the corner, ready to spring the inevitable trap. When pulled from such stupors, the SIC bowed his head, mourning the loss of his long time pests. Despite the anger and frustration, Prowl would give anything to have the twins back wrecking their usual havoc.
"It's good to let others know you care about them, and that you're remorseful for any physical or emotional harm you've caused," Sideswipe said in a tone that sounded like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"You've been hanging around Smokescreen, haven't you?" Sunstreaker asked, glaring at the camera again and adding, "Slag it, Smokescreen! Keep your processor babble to yourself and stop corrupting my idiot twin!"
"I'm not an idiot," Sideswipe snapped, affronted.
"Look at your service record," Sunstreaker said, jerking his head toward the camera. "Ask Prowl to take a look at it and I guarantee it will be as thick as your processor."
"Jealous?" Sideswipe taunted.
"Of idiocy?" Sunstreaker countered, shaking his head. "Not at all."
"I just know how to have fun," Sideswipe added, waggling his finger in his brother's face.
Which was the wrong thing to do.
Sunstreaker opened his mouth and bit the annoying digit. Sideswipe howled, cursed, and shoved his brother. There was the sound of rending metal before Sideswipe toppled from view, Sunstreaker sitting with his brother's forefinger in his mouth and looking triumphant.
The screen went blank.
"That's how Sideswipe lost his digit!" Ratchet exclaimed.
The screen lit up again, featuring the twins, though they weren't sitting in amicable companionship. They were both standing, or more precisely, they were dancing.
In bare protoform.
A few cubes littered the ground as they danced; the actions resembling a mixture of electrocution and an epileptic chicken. The song was popular several years previous, just after the Autobots woke up on Earth. The twins took turns taking the proverbial spotlight, shaking their afts and swaying to the music. Their rhythm was impeccable.
Jazz wished he knew they were such good dancers.
The scene shifted to show the twins once again seated as trained, upper class, proper elitist.
"Sunshine here won't admit it," Sideswipe started, ignoring the punch to the shoulder that sent him rocking like a ship on high seas. "But we wanted you guys to know that we will miss you. We've had a lot of laughs and I know some of my jokes may have seemed mean spirited, or 'malicious with intentions to maim or kill,' as Prowl put it, but that was never my goal. I just wanted to make everyone laugh."
"Should have paraded around stripped to your protoform," Sunstreaker said, his expression one of pained annoyance.
"Laughing was what everyone could agree on," Sideswipe said, giving a partial shrug. "We all came from different places and had different outlooks, but the war changed us. Made us hard, cold, bitter. We were surrounded by death and destruction and the very world that gave us life was drained of resources. We lived on a dead planet, surrounded by ash and ghosts and burning wreckage."
"So cheerful," Sunstreaker deadpanned, though his voice lost its vehemence.
"It's hard to be around so much death and not let it affect you," Sideswipe continued. "But when everyone laughed, all of the bad stuff went away. It was just a bunch of mechs… together… laughing."
"Oh, Primus, I'm going to purge," Sunstreaker said with a mock gag.
Sideswipe's servo came up behind his brother's head, whapping him a good one and sent him reeling. He smiled at the camera and added, "That one's for you, Ratchet."
The scene changed again, this time it was Sunstreaker, alone, who stared at the camera.
"My brother is an idiot," He said without preamble. "Prowl, you will find either a still or a store of high grade at these locations."
Prowl allowed a smirk as he categorized all the locations Sunstreaker supplied from the recording. He marveled at the sheer volume of hiding places, including a small niche that was under the security panel in the main control center, and a loose panel that was behind Prime's own berth.
How did the twins even get into Prime's personal quarters?
"I know it doesn't mean anything now because when you see this, we'll be terminated," Sunstreaker said without flinching at the mention of his own demise. "But if Sideswipe realized he didn't leave any secrets behind, it would torment him until the Pit Maker tosses us out!"
Several mechs in the room looked saddened, thinking the twins would end up in such a horrible place. If any had earned their peaceful rest in the Well, it was the battle hardened, scarred twins that kept everyone functioning far longer than what statistics calculated. Their inner thoughts were interrupted by Sideswipe's grinning visage as he cut into the recording.
"Sunshine will kill me if he finds out, but since this won't be seen until we're gone, it's perfect timing," Sideswipe said with a childish glint in his optics. He placed his finger over his lip components as if shushing the audience, and hit a key that grafted the screen with another.
Sunstreaker took center stage. And he was unlike what anyone had ever witnessed. His face was set with determination, his optics a brilliant bluish-white. Concentration made him appear more handsome, ethereal as he stared at his rival.
The canvas bore the scars of Sunstreaker's fury, a grisly collection of injuries in color. They blended. They relented to the master of the brush, performing his every command with the utmost perfection. They bled with his intensity.
Paint splattered the golden chassis, a macabre sacrifice to the dangerous world of art. His servos flew across the canvas, dipping to the extended palette and creating his mind in physical form. The angle of the scene panned wider, showing a studio full of paintings, all along the same desperate, archaic, violent, and destructively beautiful work.
The focus went back to Sunstreaker as he continued his project, showing the bright, almost white, aspect of his optics. He worked in a frenzy, a fever overtaking his senses and commanding his body. He paused, rolling his shoulders and giving a double twitch to the right shoulder before returning to his work. Several times he performed the tic before the canvas was pushed aside to display a fresh, blank surface that would be stained by an artist lost in the moment.
The stunned Autobot audience stared with gaping expressions as they watched the master at work. Two breathless paintings became the focus of the camera as it faded to reveal Sideswipe's grinning face.
"That was a hint of what Sunshine goes through when he's in one of his moods,'" he said, rolling his optics as if Sunstreaker possessed a great many moods and the mechs needed a label for what they just witnessed.
"Oh, he's so going to beat my aft when he finds out," Sideswipe laughed. "I may have to escape the Pit just to survive his temper!" His expression turned cheeky, then serious before he added, "Be on the lookout, mechs. You may see me back in the land of the functioning! Be warned! If you see me, there's a good chance Sunshine isn't far behind!"
The scene faded to be replaced by a sobering sight.
A human graveyard.
A prominent tombstone read:
Sideswipe and Sunstreaker
Activated: A time they can't remember
Deactivated: Hopefully a long time from now
A ghostly image of the twins appeared flanking the cold stone marker. Both waved in farewell, Sideswipe smiling that annoying way. He looked to his brother, and with a look that clearly displayed he was 'resigned to his fate', Sunstreaker smiled.
Together they turned, bent over, and released their plating, allowing their bare protoforms to be exposed. They offered a couple of shakes of their afts before fading from existence. Their dual laughter filled the audios long after the screen went dark.
Silence reigned until Ratchet stood, holding a cube aloft.
"To our brothers," he said, fighting back the grief threatening to overwhelm him. "May they rest in the well… at least, until I get there, then I hope Primus has an endless stock of wrenches, because I'm going to need them!"
The room burbled with tear filled laughter as the Autobot's toasted the Infamous Twins, and the memory they left behind.
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Reviews are loved… however, negative comments and strange packages will be given to Wheeljack to tinker with!
*author remains hidden until further notice*
