After, Part 3 (Sunstreaker's POV)

"Beta..." I whisper, the name lingering on metallic lips as I online my optics. It takes a second, but I can eventually see my surroundings.

The med bay, in all it's glory. Great.

/Sunstreaker! You're up! I'll be right there!/ Comes the voice of my now silver twin over our Bond. His voice seems panicked, and slightly relieved. /You scared all of us, Sunny./

I lie there, thinking over my twin's comment. What had I done to scare everyone? The last thing I remember is...

Beta. Or, well, Bethany.

"-in Cybertronian." Sideswipe finishes off my thought, just as he had countless times before. But, this time is different. This time, it is about something very important to me.

It's about Beta. MY Beta, not the shell that Ratchet has been keeping online for a little over six vorns now, but the body that her mind currently occupies. The young, seemingly human, fourteen year old femme with fiery red locks that reach just below her shoulders and add a beautiful contrast to her brilliant, piercing ice blue eyes. Her flawless, pale white- almost silver- skin that glistens beautifully in the light of this solar system's star. Her typical neon green sports jacket adorns her skinny frame over a black tank top. She wears matching neon green running shorts over black dance tights and black ballet flats. She has a dance class after dinner today, one that I would be taking her to.

Unfortunately, seeing as she just scolded me in cybertronian after I freaked out because of a prank Sides pulled on me, I don't think I'll be taking her.

Seeing as I also threw a pink paint-covered polishing shammy at her, I don't think she'd want me to take her anyways.

"What?" She says, confusion thicker in her voice than the air around any of the old factories back on Cybertron. She says this in Cyberyronian just as she had the last few things she said, and doesn't even notice.

Every one of the humans in the cafeteria does, though.

Sam Whitwickey, the human male standing in as her adoptive 'father', stands where he sits next to his wife, Carly at the table. "Bethany? 'Bee, what's she saying?" The brunet's expression shows as much confusion and fear as everyone else's.

"She" -static- "yelled" -more static as the yellow and black scout tries desperately to speak- "at Sunny." Bumblebee rubs where his vocoder is located under wires in his neck subconsciously.

"Is everyone planning on ignoring my question? Or is someone gonna explain what the hell is going on?" Beta- also known as Bethany in her current form- says, finally in the human tongue known as English. Her hands go on her hips, jutting out slightly to the side as she glares up at me. "Well, Sunny?"

I stare at the little 'human' for a few more moments before opening a comm. to Optimus.

::How long can we hide this from her, Optimus?::

::As long as it will take Ratchet to finish repairs.::

::No offense, sir, but you CAN'T let this go on any longer! 'I' won't let this go on any longer.::

::Sunstreaker, you won't tell her. That's an order.::

My helm whips around to face the CIC of the Autobots, and I give him a look of utter disbelief. The femme was his own slaggin' daughter, for Primus' sake. I quickly shut the comm. link, before turning back to the impatiently waiting young femme. She gives me one of her infamous, 'You better not even THINK about it', looks.

"Well, Sunny? Any day now." She seems to chastise me, a smirk gleaming in her eyes. Typical ole' Beta, even as a sparkling on Cybertron, I was wrapped tightly around her little neon green finger. Now, I'm wrapped around her little, artificial-skin covered finger, still her ever loyal minion.

I sigh, before leaning down slightly and setting a servo down in front of her. "Fine. Climb-" I stop with what I was about to say as she hops gracefully onto the palm of my servo and taps it impatiently, gesturing for me to raise her to my shoulder. I roll my optics, a habit I picked up from the humans, and comply to her unspoken request.

I turn to leave as she settles on to my shoulder, but stop as a servo grips my other shoulder. I turn to see Optimus, a serious look on his faceplate. "Sunstreaker, that was an order."

I shrug his servo off of my shoulder, turning away once more. "C'mon, Sides. We're going."

/Sunny, maybe you should-/ My twin begins to suggest over our Bond, but I cut him off.

/Try to stop me, Sideswipe. All of you can go ahead and try./ I hiss mentally, walking out of the cafeteria and to the secret location of Beta's real body.

But, I freeze as I hear Beta gasp in my audio receptor, before she crumples backwards. I spin around to catch her, and find her scooped up in Optimus' servo as Ratchet steps forward. I see a needle, one attached to a vile filled halfway with sedative. I instinctively step backward, my left servo quickly shifting into the form of my favorite Cybertronian blade. I crouch slightly, getting into a defensive position. A feral growl escapes from my vocoder, before words finally form.

"Give Beta back."

Ratchet steps forward, readying his EMP gun on his right arm with his free left servo. "Sunstreaker, I do NOT want to use this." He warns, stepping forward once more as Optimus walks away with the limp little femme.

I growl before launching myself over Ratchet, thankful that the ceiling is rather high at the N.E.S.T. base. I clear his head, and reach, with ease, and flip before landing crouched behind him. I begin to charge towards Optimus, but freeze in my tracks.

Ratchet had just barely managed to whip around and catch my arm with his sedative-loaded needle just in time. I crumple forward, landing with a loud thunk as a soft veil of blackness encircles my processor and optics.

"Slaggin' femme," I grumble, rubbing my arm subconsciously. "Find out the truth already! Or I'll tell you myself!"

If only I could just get away with it...