13. Caring

Forwards Time Skip - Cybertron

Sunstreaker knows it's bad this time. The evidence is right there, cranial unit opened up and shimmering in a heat-haze. He has known Sideswipe his entire existence and in all that time, he's not sure he's ever seen his twin so scrapped.

"Temperature at 35 klax and rising." The low monotone of a medical drone. The red and white medic ignores it and reaches for the next set of energon clamps. The med bay is full and still more wounded are trickling in. Sunstreaker is aware that he isn't wanted there; the Autobots hate him and for good reason. He has personally fragged at least a quarter of them. The 'bot next to Sideswipe had to have an entire arm and chassis rebuilt after Sunstreaker tore it off and beat him with it. He can still see the faint weld lines. That mech's surviving buddies are hovering over him and Sunstreaker is sure that if the medic wasn't standing right there, they'd have tried to rip his spark out.

Sunstreaker ignores them.

"Come on," Ratchet says, buried up to the wrists in Sideswipe's innards. Sunstreaker dimly notes that his brother's energon leaves a rainbow sheen where it has splattered the 'bot's arms and chassis. "This should be working!"

Sideswipe's internals are starting to sputter. As the leaking fluid seeps through his chassis, it begins to pool around his air intakes and clog his main coolant pump. Like all Transformers, Sideswipe has a backup pumping system, but for some reason it isn't working and the medic has been unable to jump-start it. As the fans flood and stop working Sideswipe's internal temperature continues to rise and his cranial processors are overheating. He's already reached a critical threshold. Sideswipe is dying.

"Come on!"

It's stupid and it's dangerous, exposing himself like this in front of so many who would kill him. But Sunstreaker doesn't think about that. He can't. His entire world, all he has left is lying on that table and he will not let that go.

He's already disengaging armor clamps and starting the emergency override programs before Ratchet realizes what he's doing. The medic's head snaps up, blue optics narrowed.

"Don't even think about it," he says.

Sunstreaker ignores him and continues, gears whirring and pistons sliding back. The front of his chassis plating swings away, exposing the lines around his own spark chamber. Internal warnings are easily silenced and even as Ratchet pulls his hands out to stop him, Sunstreaker is reaching into his own spark cavity and disengaging his pumping clamps. He's aware of the pain. More alarms start screeching and not just internally but he himself doesn't make a sound.

"What are you doing?!" Ratchet snaps, lunging forward and pulling the hissing tubes from Sunstreaker's fingers. He tries to stuff them back inside where they belong, but Sunstreaker is having none of that and grabs the medic's face with one hand.

"Our systems are identical," he says. "Save him."

"I am not going to kill one mech just to save another!" Ratchet says.

Sunstreaker wrenches the 'bot's head up and grabs the wrist of the hand holding his lines. "I have a backup. Work on him."

Sideswipe's monitor starts to wail. Sunstreaker can smell the acidic tang of burning wire. He knows Ratchet can smell it, too. For a moment, neither moves. Then the medic cycles his vents and eases back. Sunstreaker lets go of his face.

"Get another berth over here," the 'bot says to the drone. "And you," this to Sunstreaker, "tell me the moment you start to overheat."

Sunstreaker says nothing. He climbs onto the berth when the drone arrives and positions himself so he's practically lying on top of his brother. The medic wastes no time, unhooking Sideswipe's own floundering systems and plugging Sunstreaker's in. Behind them the alarms continue to go off. This close and Sunstreaker can feel the heat rolling off his twin's frame, wafting across his face.

Somewhere during the procedure Ratchet reaches in and turns off Sunstreaker's relays, dulling the pain. Sunstreaker doesn't so much as move. The noise level in the med bay had dropped a little but he doesn't really notice it. All of his formidable sensors are focused on the sound of Sideswipe's systems.

They continue to gurgle. Heat is pouring into Sunstreaker's bared internals and he's starting to register an unhealthy rise in his own temperature. His backup remains off, however. He won't engage it, won't risk the drain in power. He's pretty sure Ratchet knows about it but the other mech doesn't say anything and the two are silent.

One breem.

Two.

And then something in Sideswipe coughs, lurches, and turns over. A moment later and the alarms shut off. Sideswipe gives off a massive blast of hot air as vents clear and the hovering medic relaxes just a little.

"Alright you," he says. "Engage that backup or I will."

Sunstreaker nods and lowers himself next to the cooling frame of his brother. If Ratchet sees his smile, he gives no indication.

Sweet. Hit the 50 reviews marker.

Sunstreaker: Jet Judo is awesome. I wish there were more fics with it.

Elita One: He did. Thanks for reviewing!

blood shifter: Yep, it was. And he did. Probably a little too much.

Trapped in Reality: Glad you liked it. To be honest, this was the only thing I could think of. And I wanted to write Jet Judo anyway, so I figured, "Meh. Why not?'

cmdrtekk: Oh! A technical review. I like those. Thanks!

Thing With No Talent: Unfortunately, I'm I'm not the first to use "bucket-humper" (can't remember where I saw it...). I always thought it'd be a desperation maneuver that Sideswipe came to like (too much). It is awful to write them apart. They don't take well to it.

Next up: On His Knees