8. Think We're Getting The Hang Of This

(Warnings for more violence, but less extreme than Chapter 6. Teeny bit of sappiness at the end.)

I gotta say this for us: We learn fast. Least now we knew what we were in for and what was expected of us. It's funny how anything can become normal when you're exposed to it long enough. The tension, the strain, the violence, the most hellish things that were done to us... we just got used to it after a bit. I remember sitting up at night in our cell and comparing injuries, like it was some sort of contest. We'd actually brag about who had got dinged up the most in training. Sick game to play I guess, but we were sick kids, and it passed the time.

We didn't cope exactly the same. Me, I didn't mind the fighting, and it got to where I didn't mind the beatings so much either, after a while. Pain never has fazed me much. If pain was all I'd get for mouthing off or doing something my way instead of theirs, I'd take it. Plus it really slagged them off to punch me and see me laughing. As long as I didn't annoy Clench enough to get killed, I could get away with a lot if I was prepared to take an aft-kicking for it. And I was. So I pushed them, talked back and just generally drove them nuts, whenever the tension started to get to me. And it made me feel almost good.

But Sunny... Spin was different. It wasn't about fun for him, it was about pride. His pride was more important to him than anything, and he didn't have much of it left with Clench's brand on his face. Then his attitude was way different from mine. Spin was, well, a moody bastard. He couldn't just deal with our situation and make the best of it; he thought too much, and it got to him. He sulked, he rebelled, he blew up at the worst possible times and got ground into the floor again and again. Which only made him worse, of course. I swear Clench was trying to drive him insane... and it was working.

Then came the last straw. I should've seen it coming, really, the way we'd been acting up. But it was still the worst shock of my life, and I do mean ever...

- - - - -

Being rousted by the trainers was no break in their routine, and the twins were awake and on their feet before the door had finished opening. The first mech they saw was Clench, looking distinctly displeased.

"You," he said with usual brevity, pointing at Sideswipe, "come with me. And you, with Bludgeon."

Both twins felt uneasy, but they complied. It wasn't the first time they had trained separately. Very rarely, however, would Clench take one of them without the other. In fact they could not remember a single time. It didn't bode well.

Bludgeon stalked off with Spin-Out in tow, as Sideswipe fell in step behind Clench. Not too close, as he had learned, otherwise Clench would spin around and knock him backwards. Besides, it gave him a chance to look around without the trainer noticing. He was familiar with most of their new abode by now, and it wasn't long before he realized where they were headed. The arena.

His Spark sputtered alarmingly when he saw another young mech, dented and scuffed, waiting at the other end of the arena room. A ring of Clench's armed guards surrounded the central area, which was scored with weapon marks and stained with fluids of countless combatants. Sideswipe always felt a little ill setting foot onto that floor, and this time he was pretty sure he'd be here a while.

Clench indicated where he should stand, and Sideswipe took his place. He tried not to meet the optics of the other gamma standing across from him. He didn't want to see the other's expression, whether it was as worried and frightened as he felt, or eager and lusting for battle.

All 'bots in the room listened as Clench spoke. "In case you hadn't guessed, your trainers have deemed you fit for arena combat. Now is the time to prove them right. If your performance is pleasing, you will be granted full gladiator status and all the rewards that come with it. If not, your training will be intensified until you do succeed, or until we tire of your failure." Clench swept his gaze back and forth between the two gammas as he spoke, but he lingered longest on Sideswipe. The red twin grinned cheekily to hide his nervousness.

"Select your weapons," he said and indicated a guard standing near each combatant. Sideswipe's offered him a choice between a stout pole weighted at both ends and a curved blade with a wicked hooked tip. He chose the pole with little hesitation, since it had more reach. I'd rather beat the other guy into submission than cut him to pieces, anyway.

Hard as he was trying not to think about the situation, his Spark was pulsing hotter and hotter and he could feel a tingle in his sensors that heralded a fight-or-flight reaction. Everything looked sharp, yet events were starting to blur together. His hands shook slightly where they gripped the staff. He looked across at the other gamma and didn't seem to register him as a person anymore -- just something that needed to be taken down. The axe in the other's hands gleamed dully. Sideswipe heard Clench say something, but the words didn't make sense.

Then a plasma flail crackled across his shoulders, and the sound and sharp stinging sensation that accompanied it jolted him into action. He lunged forward; his opponent was already doing the same. Events continued to blur, stretching faster and faster, the staff in his hands swinging in a wide arc that met the other's axe with a jarring crack, and Sideswipe's feet leaving the ground as he aimed a kick at his opponent's head...

The next few minutes went by quickly. Sideswipe fought on instinct, taking some lessons from his training but mostly improvising as he went, blocking and dodging and kicking and swinging when it felt right. It was surprisingly easy, and he hardly had to think about it at all. He took some hits, but they didn't register except on the outer reaches of his mind, and he kept fighting as if the axe hadn't bitten him at all. He forgot why he was fighting. He forgot who. He just threw himself into it with reckless abandon, surprised and delighted to find he was winning, that the other kid just couldn't keep up, that the axe was now lying over in a corner and he had a perfect swing at his opponent's unprotected head...

With a gleeful whoop he knocked the other mech sprawling, then leaped to stand on top of him, ready to keep him from rising. There was no need. The other gamma groaned slightly and didn't move, and Sideswipe could tell he'd damaged the external sensors on the kid's helm. Enough to knock him out of his senses for quite some time.

"OH YEAH!" he hollered and flung the staff away, almost hitting one of the guards in the head. He was exulted. It was so easy! This was all they had to do? He sauntered up to Clench, grinning audio to audio.

"Got any more you want to throw at me? I'm all warmed up now!"

Clench didn't seem to show much reaction at first. Then he nodded, as if Sideswipe had done nothing more impressive than was expected of him. "That will do." He gestured toward the gamma lying on the floor. "Get him to repairs," he told the guards, "then back to his cell. Keep him in there for three or four cycles. Maybe it'll motivate him to try harder next time."

Sideswipe's buoyant mood deflated and crashed, hard. He turned to look as the other kid was hauled away callously by one of the brutes, still groaning slightly. Sideswipe couldn't remember how many times he'd hit him. He's going to be punished because I won. Just like that, the sick feeling from before returned tenfold.

He tore his optics away from the other gamma, but they settled on a fresh pool of energon on the arena floor and wouldn't budge. It took him a moment to realize the energon was his own. Sticky footprints led away from it, to a trail that went up his leg... for the first time he noticed a deep gash in his upper leg, left by the axe blade. It had actually taken a pretty good chunk out of him. He ought to be feeling it, and supposed he probably was, somewhere, but the pain refused to reach his central processor. All he could think was that he deserved worse.

Distantly he was aware of Clench taking his arm. "I suppose you'll want your rewards now. Come on, then. Get Hacksaw to stop that leak."

He didn't sound too concerned, but it was still the most he'd cared about one of the twins' injuries before. Sideswipe figured it was because he'd just gone up in the bastard's estimation. That did not make him feel any less sick.

- - - - -

Clench wasn't kidding about rewards. Instead of taking me back to our dim, grungy cell, he showed me to a completely new room in one of the upper levels, where I'd never been before. An actual room, with actual beds, and an energon dispenser, and waste disposal for real, instead of just a pan on the floor. Aside from the lock on the door, it almost could've been cozy. A week ago I would've killed to sleep in a place like this for once. Now... now I felt more like I belonged in that filthy hole we'd had before.

I can't tell you how sick I felt. I mean, I felt worse for winning than anything they could have done to me for losing. I wasn't sure I could speak to Spin when I saw him next.

Then it occurred to me to wonder where Spin was. Clench hadn't left yet, so I asked him.

Lucky for him he was on the other side of the locked door when he told me.

See, the worst shock of my day wasn't the fight. The worst was after I'd gotten to my new room and found out my brother wouldn't be joining me. At least, not until he made it to gladiator status himself. Apparently Clench and the trainers still didn't think Spin was ready for the arena. Until he could prove himself, they were keeping him in training... and I wasn't going to see him.

I'd started to think I could handle anything, short of death, that these guys could dish out at me. I was wrong. This was... something I hadn't even considered. It was so, well, out of the question, so fundamentally wrong... Like he'd just casually reached into my chest and torn my Spark in half and put the other half in a box and locked it away. That's the only comparison I can think of.

I can't remember what I said. What I did. I know I tore up the new room pretty good, and broke the energon dispenser, which was fine, because I never wanted to eat again. I refused to go near the bed. I'd never slept without Spin before, ever. I guess I cried, and probably called Clench all sorts of things, and begged and made a general scene. But ask me the specifics and I couldn't tell you. All I remember was how I felt. For the first time in my life, I actually wanted to die.

Our first separation lasted five cycles. It was literally the worst thing they'd ever done to us. I could still feel Spin through our connection, but without his physical presence, I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what they were doing to him. Worse, I didn't know if I would ever see him again.

- - - - -

It was completely dark in the Pit. Spin-Out didn't mind. He didn't want to look around and not see his brother next to him. He didn't want to look at the gouges and scrapes that marred his dull finish. He didn't want to see the scratches he'd left on the walls of the tiny cell, or the scores of older ones left by fingers other than his. He stared and stared into the dark without seeing anything, and was glad.

Four cycles he'd been in here now. He only knew because a trainer -- usually Bludgeon -- came in twice a day. He barely felt the beatings anymore. They'd been bad at first, because he refused to train and so was beaten until he couldn't stand. He could obey and make it stop, but he didn't. After a bit they ceased bothering him, and now he wouldn't even take the trouble of standing when the trainers walked in. He sat and let them rain blows against his hunched back, and he didn't care.

Four cycles. He hadn't slept, or eaten; they'd stopped offering him energon. His awareness was starting to fog, though his internal thoughts remained sharp and clear. He could barely feel the throbbing in his back, but he could replay his last ten conversations with Sideswipe in his head without a hitch. He played them over and over, occasionally murmuring to himself (it was too damn quiet) or quietly etching an invisible shape into the floor with his torn fingers. If it had been visible, it might have resembled his twin's face.

The door opened for the tenth time. Spin-Out shuttered his optics against the light. Lugnut this time, and he'd brought his favorite shockstick, the one almost as long as Spin-Out was tall. Lugnut swung hard, but he didn't have Bludgeon's cruel cunning in striking at the most effective spots. Spin-Out didn't even twitch when he barked, "Get up!"

A foot prodded him, and then the tip of the staff jabbed him in the back of the head. Now that was going a little too far. Spin-Out growled, barely audible. Lugnut repeated, "Get up!"

"No, thanks. If I'm gonna get the slag knocked out of me, I'd rather sit down for it." Spin-Out studied the worn plating on his fingertips idly. How long had he been scratching at the floor..?

The staff cracked across his back. The force alone was almost enough to double him over, but the electrical discharge that accompanied it shot signals all through his dermal sensornet and left raw nerves burning in the wake of the blow. The burn had hardly begun to fade when the rod fell again, and again. Lugnut wasn't even trying to administer a clever beating. Stupid brute. Spin-Out shoved the pain to one side and ignored it. He debated pretending to fall asleep, but decided he wanted this over with, rather than prolonged, as it no doubt would be if Lugnut got good and mad.

"You know what your problem is?" Clench's voice, irritatingly, surfaced in his head as Lugnut hammered on him. "You don't want to fight. You don't get into it the way your brother does, the way a lot of mechs do. You have to be forced into it, and then you get angry. Once you get angry you lose your head, and then you get your aft handed to you."

Slag him with a rusty saw, anyway. But he was right. Spin had lost to Clench every time, because he blew up. He didn't think, he just acted. He wasn't the fighter his brother was. He couldn't jump in headfirst and have any hope of emerging on top. He didn't know how Sideswipe did it.

Sideswipe. Damn it, you slagger, you left me in here.

He didn't want to think about that. He concentrated on the beating instead. It was beginning to bug him, but Lugnut was really predictable, almost an automaton. Same pause between strokes, every time. It made for a strangely maddening rhythm. After each blow, the staff would pause for a second against his back, then lift, and Lugnut would shift his considerable weight with an audible creak of metal and a slight clunk as his right heel returned to the ground; then the staff whooshed through the air...

CLANG.

Creak, clunk, whoosh, CLANG.

Creak, clunk, whoosh, CLANG.

Creak, clunk, whoosh...

Suddenly he saw it. Suddenly he could see Lugnut perfectly, without even looking at him, tracking everything that made each sound in the sequence. He could predict to the millisecond when the next strike would hit. He heard the staff begin to sweep through the air...

He spun around and caught it, blocking with his left arm and grabbing the staff with his right. The panel on his forearm buckled as the momentum of the blow was arrested, and electricity crackled painfully through both shoulders, but he could hardly have cared. He used the staff to pull himself up as Lugnut, surprised, took a step back. Spin-Out's foot shot up and into the trainer's chest, and he lost his grip on the staff before his dim processor had time to catch up to what was happening.

The yellow twin crouched, shifting the staff to a fighting stance. Energon deprivation, sleeplessness, and his battered state were all forgotten. Everything seemed to have been swept aside except for this perfect, crystalline movement. His thoughts were like laser fire, but he had never felt so calm. It would be so effortless to move, to bring the staff up and into Lugnut's single blazing optic, to keep shoving until it protruded from the back of his helm and then pry the trainer's head right off, so he could get to the severed neck-wires beneath...

It took a moment for the guards to respond to the sudden commotion. When they opened the door, they had to leap back as Lugnut's head came flying out. One quick look inside the room -- at Spin-Out coated in energon and holding a handful of dripping loose wires, his optics like chips of cometary ice -- and the guards called for Clench.

- - - - -

"I'm pleased with these two," Clench told Hacksaw as the medic was finishing minor repairs on Spin-Out. "More than I could've bargained for. I was having my doubts about this one, but I don't think Lugnut left much room for doubt." He nodded at the dripping heap of metal on a nearby table.

"I'd say not." Hacksaw sounded considerably less than pleased. "That heap of bolts is going to take some putting back together. Never seen him such a mess. If he'd lost much more fuel, he'd be nothing but a pile of spare parts to me now. When do you need him functioning again?"

"Don't rush yourself. I have better trainers. Just make sure this one is up and ready as soon as possible," he said with a clap on Spin-Out's shoulder. "I see the makings of a real Pit-fighter here. Want to see what he can do."

The mech beneath all of this prodding and discussion sat silently, gazing at nothing, ignoring Clench and Hacksaw as if they were figments of his imagination. The ice had melted from Spin-Out's optics and they were dim with exhaustion. He didn't stir or make the least sign of life beyond the movements of an automaton, until Clench finally tugged on his arm and said, "You're finished here. I think it's time you were put back with your brother."

Spin-Out shook himself as if roused from a dream. He followed Clench with a feverish expression, like an addict being promised a fix. When they got to the door of the new room Spin-Out leaned himself against it before Clench had gotten it open, pressing as if he could feel his brother just on the other side. Then the door slid aside and they fell into each other's arms.

For an hour or more there were no words. They lay in a heap together as if they could not move, their half-Sparks fluttering wildly before settling into a single, reassuring rhythm. Even their shivering seemed to be in unison. Eventually Sideswipe managed to pull himself into a sitting position, dragging his brother with him, unwilling to let go for even a second. He reached around and felt the dents and gouges that riddled Spin-Out's back. He tried to ask a question, but Spin-Out shook his head, biting at his brother's mouth to keep it still.

What the Pit happened to you? Sideswipe demanded over their tightlink. Stubborn fragger.

Don't wanna get into it. Damn, he was tired. He just wanted to hold onto his twin and sleep. Think about this slag later.

Sideswipe hesitated, then -- "I fought, Spin. My first match."

"You win?"

"Yeah, but that's not the point. I almost took the poor bastard apart--"

"So you won. Shut up already." Spin-Out rested his head on Sideswipe's chest and closed his optics. Sideswipe made a frustrated noise.

"Well, what about you? What's your excuse for being covered in energon?"

"Lugnut was annoying, so I took his head off."

A brief pause. "You're serious, aren't you?"

Spin-Out shrugged. There was a longer pause, and then he felt his twin start to shake. He was vaguely alarmed until he realized Sideswipe was giggling. Pretty soon he couldn't contain it and busted out laughing at the top of his vocalizer, until Spin-Out involuntarily joined in. They leaned against each other and laughed until their heads hurt. It wasn't really that funny, but after half a decacycle apart they had to vent somehow, either laugh or cry, and laughing felt better.

"Sigma, I'm tired," said Spin-Out at length, when they were both more or less finished being jackasses. "Is that a real berth?"

"Looks like. Haven't used it yet. There's a shower too, and actual sanitation, and an energon dispenser that makes regular energon, instead of that overcharged stuff we've been --"

Spin opened his optics. "Did you say shower?"

- - - - -

That's when I knew it was gonna be alright.

0-0-0-0-0

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you all for your reviews. Most of you seem to be enjoying everything I throw at you, but please, let me know if something doesn't make sense or seemed out of character. I'm always looking to improve.

One reviewer made an odd request. She asked that I post a warning at the top of any chapter with "robo-sex", which is fine, because I'd do that anyway (content warnings at the beginning of each chapter are standard for me, in case you hadn't noticed). But she also asked that I summarize the important plot points of any such chapters in the next one, for people who don't want to read them.

Sorry, but I'm not going to that much trouble because someone wants to skip an entire chapter to avoid a tasteful mention of interfacing. If there is any sex in this story, it will not be graphic or explicit. I am not putting porn in this. If you survived the violence in chapter six, a casual mention of physical intimacy should not be enough to leave mental scars. If you're still worried, you're welcome to stop reading before the twins decide to kiss in front of you.

Moving on...

Silveriss: Prowl is probably more capable of compassion than most of us are, under the calm exterior. He is concerned with logic first, and logic dictates that one catches more flies with honey than with vinegar. Therefore, kindness is the best way to reach out to a mech that has been hardened and twisted by cruelty. It's all business -- or at least that's his excuse. Of course, he doesn't usually go to the lengths for others that he has for the twins, so there's a lot more complexity to the issue than that. But you know Prowl -- has to put up that professional front.

Okami-chan: I can't see them as a couple in that sense. Prowl is more of a father figure to the twins, which is good, because their role models up until now haven't been worth an ounce of spit.

Anhai: I wouldn't think you were very nice if you DIDN'T wish harm to people like Clench. It shows you have an innate sense of justice. And believe me, the guy has got karma coming to him bad. Thanks for the patience.

Balrog: Just wait and see. This is an original storyline, so Meggy's uprising won't be quite like anything you've read before, though it was inspired by several canon versions.

tomorrow4eva: I agree with that. I've nothing against sexual attraction, but I don't think it's necessary for friendly contact. Nothing wrong with friends embracing, or a concerned officer reassuring a messed-up kid. Especially in the case of Sideswipe -- he needs all the hugs he can get.

Lnzy1: I've never read 'The Color Purple'. I'll have to check it out. I seem to have an addiction for stories that leave me physically ill.

- Next chapter should be up before long. Thanks for all your patience, and keep questions and comments coming.