20. Greedy
He couldn't believe it. He couldn't… it wouldn't…
The rec. room was silent. No one said a word. Sideswipe stared down at the floor, listening as Sunny stomped out of the room and down the hall. He had known it was a stupid idea, known that Sunny would react the way he did, but he'd gotten so tired of it all. And still Sunstreaker denied it; when Sideswipe could fragging feel his pain leaking through the shredded remains of their bond. And still he refused to merge.
That glitched-out, slag-sucking, worthless pile of scrap!
He heard a faint hiss and then Jazz was kneeling down beside him with one hand placed on Sideswipe's shoulder.
"You okay, man?" he said.
Sideswipe looked up at the officer. Worry was written all over Jazz's frame and it was all Sideswipe could do to keep his own seething rage contained.
"Hey, if you need—" Jazz started to say.
"Back off," Sideswipe said, swatting the hand off his shoulder. Jazz took the hint and eased away. Sideswipe climbed to his feet and stared at the wall for a nano-klik, trying to sort through the buzzing in his processor. He could hear the noise pick back up as 'bots went back to their business but it was quiet, subdued, and that made the buzzing louder. The worst part, though, was the tight feeling in his chest. He'd been so close…
A small spike. Sunny.
That fragger.
His fists were clenching. He felt a whir inside as coolant systems came online. Jazz was still staring at him and Sideswipe wondered if he'd notified Command of what had happened.
Stupid, selfish, greedy slag-heap.
He wanted to curl up on the floor and whine. Agony lanced through his chest. It was getting kind of hard to stay upright. A distant echo of that same pain and Sideswipe knew it was just as bad for his stupid brother.
This has got to stop.
It wasn't until he gave an audible wheeze that Jazz stepped forward again and said, "Maybe we ought to go see Ratchet, huh?"
Sideswipe took a moment to calm himself, ease his shoulders down a little, before he said, "No. I'm gonna… I'll be in my quarters."
Jazz looked doubtful. Sideswipe wondered if the Special Operator sensed some inkling of what he was thinking. But then Jazz nodded and stepped back and Sideswipe made his way towards the door. Only a handful of 'bots stared; most wouldn't meet his gaze.
Once he got outside it took only a moment to determine where Sunstreaker had gone and so Sideswipe went left, in the opposite direction of their quarters. He figured his brother was headed towards the wash racks—he always went there whenever he got moody.
Sideswipe took off at a brisk jog.
Sunny was headed towards the wash racks. As Sideswipe neared he turned and some unreadable expression crossed his face. But then he stopped and crossed his arms and glared.
"What do you want?" he said.
Another twinge across their link. Sideswipe could make out anger, annoyance, and… and fear?
"What is wrong with you," Sideswipe said.
Sunstreaker narrowed his optics and the thin trickle of emotion abruptly cut off. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"The slag you don't," Sideswipe said, reaching out and shoving him.
Sunny stumbled back, a look of surprise on his face, and for a nano-klik Sideswipe felt a twinge of guilt. But then his twin caught himself and the surprise morphed into a snarl.
"Slag off," he said.
But Sideswipe was past the point of caring. He'd lost his brother to the Decepticons, spent vorns wondering where he was, if he was dead; listening to the stories as Sunstreaker built his reputation; laid next to groaning, half-slagged mechs in the med bay knowing it was Sunny's handiwork and wondering if there was something he could have done. And then he'd found him, nearly dead and they'd gotten him back and he thought the worst was over, that he'd finally get Sunny back. But the worst part had yet to come. Sunny, his egotistical, self-centered, braggart of a brother had died somewhere out there on the battlefields and a new mech had taken his place. This new one, this Sunstreaker was a killer. He didn't get along with anyone else. He tore up ally as well as enemy. He closed himself off from Sideswipe. And Sideswipe was sick of it.
This has got to stop.
Sunstreaker was getting ready for a fight. Sideswipe could see it in his optics. He was scared and Sideswipe wanted to know why.
I want Sunny back.
"Touch me again I'll slag you," Sunstreaker said.
Sideswipe felt a chill settle on his frame. Sunstreaker was serious. His brother had his back to the wall, head tilted down, and stood with his knees slightly bent, hands free and hanging motionless at his sides. He always looked that way right before he charged.
Sunstreaker was serious.
That chill melted into white hot rage.
"You slag-sucker!" Sideswipe said and lunged.
Sunstreaker was ready. Even as Sideswipe came at him he lifted his feet and dropped down. Sideswipe started to reach for him, started to shift his weight as he came around to the side but then Sunstreaker was moving. He tucked himself into a ball and plowed into Sideswipe's legs. Sideswipe saw it coming, though, and managed to land in a roll instead of on his face. He came up to face Sunstreaker, now across the hall.
Sideswipe eased to the right and Sunstreaker mirrored him, stepping to his own right, still in that crouch. Something in his body language was off, though. Sideswipe tried to focus on it but then Sunstreaker stood and took a sliding step towards his left and suddenly dropped down into another roll. Sideswipe was turning, tracking him across the floor but Sunstreaker was too fast, coming up behind him, just to his left. He reached up, one arm snaking beneath Sideswipe's left arm and below his neck and the next thing Sideswipe knew, Sunstreaker was dragging him back. He pressed down and all his weight was folding onto Sideswipe's neck. Sideswipe hissed as the struts and cables creaked, started to give.
He hit the floor. For a moment Sideswipe was disoriented. Then he tilted his head back, saw Sunstreaker standing there with that same, unreadable expression on his face. His brother opened his mouth and started to say something. Sideswipe didn't give him the chance. He threw his legs up over his head, landed, and pivoted, grabbing Sunstreaker's leg and pulling the yellow 'bot to the ground. And then Sideswipe was on top of him.
"I'm so sick of this, sick of you and your piss-aft attitude!" he said.
Sunstreaker responded by punching the side of his head. Sideswipe let go, reeled back as the feedback nearly blew a circuit in his audios. He felt Sunny grab his arm and start to twist beneath him. He had a moment to think, "Aw, sla—"
He slammed back to the floor. Sunstreaker was on top of him in an instant and when the static cleared from his audios and he could actually focus on seeing, it was to find Sunny's face hovering over his own.
"Stop it," Sunstreaker hissed.
Sideswipe tried to shove him off but his brother had straddled his waist, pinning his legs and holding his torso immobile. It was kind of ironic; this was the first close contact that Sunstreaker had initiated and now that Sideswipe had it, all he wanted to do was beat the bolts out of his twin.
Sunstreaker was still sitting on top of him. He wasn't moving and a small part of Sideswipe's processor whispered, "This is important. This means something." But that voice was being drowned out by the cacophony within, wailing all the hurt and frustration and so Sideswipe surged up and the top of his helm cracked into Sunstreaker's mouth. No real damage, of course. Sunstreaker was too fast for that. But he did lift himself up a little and Sideswipe shimmied along the ground just enough to be able to drag his knee up. He planted his foot against Sunstreaker's midsection and kicked.
Sunstreaker went airborne. He landed on his back and squealed down the hall for perhaps a metra before he twisted himself up onto his feet. By then Sideswipe had gotten himself up and was barreling at his brother. He saw something flit across Sunstreaker's face just before part of his left shoulder unfolded and Sideswipe found himself staring down the barrel of Sunstreaker's missile launchers.
What?
Sunstreaker fired. Sideswipe could see in that nano-klik that his brother's face was completely blank. Sideswipe pulled his limbs in and threw himself to the side as a roar and a blast of heat rushed by. He hit the ground and the section of hall behind him exploded. The floor shook. His audios muted themselves against the noise and his optics rebooted against the flash. When they came back on it took a moment to adjust to the smoke and dust. Sunstreaker stood there, optics wide and bright in the gloom. Both mechs stared at each other for a moment amidst the shrieking of alarms and distant shouts.
He shot at me!
Sunstreaker hadn't moved. The opening of his 'launcher was still glowing a warm orange from the heat of the missile.
He shot at me!
The buzzing in Sideswipe's processor swelled until he couldn't hear anything else. His vision seemed to crackle and the center of his chest gave a low throb. The next thing he knew, he was down the hall, smashing into Sunstreaker and plowing the both of them into the wall. Sunstreaker didn't react at all; he just kind of stared through Sideswipe even as he hit the wall hard enough to buckle plating.
Sideswipe's hands were moving, clawing, tearing, but he couldn't see them. His chest was on fire and his processor flooded with internal warnings. His fans were sucking in air but it didn't seem to be doing anything.
Stop.
Sunstreaker's hands came up, latched onto his forearms without really applying pressure. Sideswipe was saying something but he couldn't tell what it was or if there were even words. It sounded painful. Sunstreaker started to shift and so Sideswipe reached up and pushed him against the wall.
Stop.
This had to stop. For both their sakes, this had to stop. He was still scrabbling for something and Sunstreaker wasn't resisting and something was wrong. Their faces were so close together that he could see the small gears rotating behind Sunny's face-plates as his optics moved up to lock gazes. Sunny looked at him for what felt like the first time and Sideswipe finally recognized that unreadable expression.
Stop.
"I'm sorry."
He didn't know who said it and he didn't get to find out as strong hands clamped down onto his neck.
To be continued…
Lookie, lookie! It's a multi-chapter story arc. Wa ha ha! Anyway... seeing as how this story has hit the 100 review marker, is there a scene or short story you guys want to see? Any in particular? If so, please pm or email me your suggestion.
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Next chapter: Well Shagged