Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. We all know that.
But the plot and OCs are mine. So no touchy.
How about a Sunday update anyone?
Yeah it took me forever to finish the chapter I was working on. Sorry about that. Here is chapter nine though.
I promised foolish twin goodness and here it is, there is also some adorable baby Bumblebee in there too. 'Cuz you know this is his story . . . just some times others still his spotlight. I don't think he minds so much though.
So yeah, Enjoy!
Thanks again for the reviews guys, you are awesome! I'm trying to reply to them. Life is just busy you know. Don't think I don't read them. I do, and I love you all for them. So again, thanks. Hope to hear what you think about this chapter!
Chapter 9
To put it simply there were times Sideswipe questioned his sanity.
Times—usually when he was running for his life from one mech or another after he'd pulled something—that he looked back on his actions and said to himself 'hey maybe that wasn't such a good idea'. This was one of those times.
"I'M GONNA KILL YOU, YOU DAMN FRAGGIN' RED FOOL!" Ironhide's bellow rang out through the lower levels of Eternity followed by Sideswipe shriek of terror as he fled through the halls.
"IT WASN'T ON PURPOSE!" Sides screamed over his shoulder as he flung himself around a black corner and raced up a flight of stairs heading for anywhere that wasn't here.
"YOU ARE SCRAP! SCRAP I TELL YOU! THERE WILL BE NOTHING LEFT FOR RATCHET TO REPAIR!"
"Slag! Slag. Slag. Slag. Slag. Slag. Slag. Slag. Slag!" Sides chanted as he scrambled down another hallway, jumped over a startled Blaster, and fled like every demon of pit was after him. Considering Ironhide was currently mostly bright pink, he was sure that was a pretty good comparison.
"GET BACK HERE YOU GLITCH!"
"I swear it wasn't supposed to be pink!" Sideswipe yelled throwing himself down another hall as the thundering of heavy steps echoed behind him. They were gaining. How the pit did that massive mech move that fast!?
"YOUR WILL BETTER BE SIGNED!"
Sides practically flew up another flight of stairs only to crash faceplate first into the hulking bulk that was Prime.
"OWW!" He hissed falling to his aft and holding his nose plate.
"Sideswipe?" Optimus lifted an optic ridge to the red mech crumpled at his feet. Then he heard Ironhide's bellows.
"D. E. A. D. DEAD! SO VERY SLAGGING DEAD!"
Sides squeaked in fright scrambling to his feet.
"Sideswipe," The commander sighed. "What have you done now?"
The red mech didn't answer at first, he merely leapt around Optimus cowering behind his frame. Then he graced his new mech-shield with an answer. "I may or may not have rigged a paint bomb in the shooting range, and I may or may not have accidently mixed the paint to pink, and there might be the slightest chance that the bomb went off on Ironhide, and that might mean that he is currently a very nice shade of bright pink."
Optimus blinked for a moment before a heavy breath left him as he glanced over his shoulder. "You dyed Ironhide pink?"
"Not on purpose." Sides smiled innocently.
Optimus lifted an optic ridge as Ironhide's steps thundered up the stairs. "You're dead you realize that right?"
Sides whimpered, backing up from the stairway and the commander he realized was not going to save him. "Yep, later boss bot!"
Spinning on his heels he raced toward the rec-room and the only way he was going to survive this orn.
Bumblebee.
From behind him he could hear Ironhide bellow again.
"WHERE THE PIT IS HE?!"
"That way." Optimus answered.
Sideswipe ran faster.
Bumblebee giggled absentmindedly as he stood in the middle of a bright blue box painted on the floor with easily removable paint. The giddy little yellow mechling was grinning like a solar flare as he wiggled his toes over the number one beneath his feet as he fiddled with the little pebble in his hands. Jazz was leaning over him with a grin his visor glowing with mirth while Swoop was practically vibrating with excitement on his other side. A few other mechs were scattered around the rec room watching him. They included Sunstreaker, Jolt, Hammerdown, Blurr, and Tracks. Though Bee really wasn't all that interested in them.
He was too focused in on his new game.
Hopscotch.
Hound had told Jazz about the game on patrol last night and now Jazz was teaching it too Bee since Hound was dead in recharge in his berth. And yes, the silver mech was planning on taking full credit for coming up with it. It was the perfect way to work on the youngling's coordination and help him get better control over his clumsy little feet. Ratchet was going to be thrilled, and Jazz would be less likely to get tossed in the brig when the medic and Prowl found out he rearranged all their files on accident.
In his defense it was late, he hadn't recharged, and Red Alert was really annoying when he was having one of his spasms in the early breems of dawn.
"Okay Lil' Bee," Jazz purred beside him as the little mechling grinned. "Now toss the stone into one of the squares."
Nodding vigorously Bee tossed the little round stone. It skipped across the ground and landed in the square with a six in it. Bee giggled in anticipation. He loved new games!
"Good!" Jazz praised.
"Now what?" Bee asked.
"Now you have to hop to that square, pick up the pebble, and come back."
"Me can do that." Bee nodded again making the mechs around the room chuckle.
"But," Jazz reached out and stopped him from hopping into the square marked 'two'. "You can only hop on one foot."
Bee paused.
"Huh?"
"There are two types of squares, right?"
"Yeah."
"Well the single squares like the one you're in you can only use one foot in. You have to hop." Bee quickly pulled up his left foot and wobbled unsteadily on his right. Jazz smiled at how silly he looked, but decided not to make note of it at the moment. The picture he snapped would do. "On the squares that are beside each other though. Those you have to put one foot in each of them. Like the four and five squares, you see?"
Bee chewed on his bottom lip for a moment as he wobbled on his right foot before he chirped a positive.
Jazz nodded. "Alright, go for it."
The first hop worked.
Bee managed to get his clumsy little self into the 'two' square without busting his skid plate. The second hop though . . . well that was another story.
He hopped forward again only this time all he pulled off was slipping and tipping forward with a startled squeak fully aware that he was about to bust his noseplate—again—so he snapped his optics shut waiting for the pain, but it never came. A clawed hand reached out and snatched him before he fell to the floor scooping him up and depositing him back in the square he'd been in. Peaking one optic open timidly the little youngling glanced up to see Swoop retracting his hand from him. The beast mech smiled that silly little grin of his the youngling had come to love over the last three Decacycles the Dinobots had been on the ship. Bumblebee grinned in return.
"Itty Bitty be careful." Swoop warned him before the winged mech stood to his full height again. Glancing over his shoulder Bee found Jazz still standing there watching him carefully, seemingly quite happy that Swoop had reacted as fast as he did and snatched him up. It seemed to be something his caretakers were doing just about every orn in some way or another. They were testing the Dinobots. For what, Bee wasn't sure. He guessed it had something to do with whether or not they were serious about protecting him.
Bee knew they were.
He trusted the Dinobots.
They were kind and they liked him.
He was glad that his family was starting to trust them as well.
"Well go on, Bee." Jazz's voice drew him back to the game at hand. "Try again."
Strictly serious all over again Bee pulled up his left leg making sure he had complete balance as he focused in on the 'three' square before him and hopped. He landed kind of wiggly, his arms flying out to catch his balance as he tipped back and forth on his wobbly right leg, and from the corner of his optic he saw Swoop tense, ready in a nano-klick to catch him if he was going to fall again, but the little mech kept his balance and with a grin he sprang forward again this time landing with a foot in both the 'four' square and 'five' square. This sight of him doing so though seemed to thoroughly amuse the mechs present.
He smiled around the room from where he was sprawled out with each foot as far out as it would go and his whole upper half bent over at his waist his little arms wind-milling out beside him trying to keep himself from faceplate-planting the nicely painted grey tiles of the rec room floor. He kept himself upright somehow and with a few more comical twists of his arms he managed to right himself fully to survey the next challenge before him.
Tilting his head to the side his antennas flicked back in thought.
How to get from his nice impression of the splits to the 'six' square and not bust his skid plate?
He was about to test his chances of pulling it off when the door to the rec room burst open and in flew Sideswipe tripping over his own peds as he scrambled forward across the massive room until he leapt over Bee and his game, snatched the little mech from the floor earning a squeak, and brought him up in front of him the huge frontliner cowering—yes actually cowering—behind the little yellow protoform that he had grasped under each arm turned to face the doorway as a brightly colored Ironhide came quite literally screaming in.
"SIDESWIPE WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU YOU'RE SO VERY—" The weapons specialist cut off when he came to a skidding halt before the mech that was currently using his youngling as a mech-shield.
Bumblebee blinked.
One moment he'd been on the floor playing his new game and then Sides came sliding in and scooped him up. Now the red mech was hiding behind him and he was staring at the form of his guardian. Only his guardian was now mostly a very bright shade of pink.
For a moment the whole rec room was silent as Bumblebee glanced up and then down, and up and then down, and up and then down, and then back up and then back down taking in every very strange detail that was the battle hardened mech he loved so much now covered in a very femme shade of paint.
Scrunching up his little faceplate Bee tilted his head. "You look weird, Hide."
And the assortment of onlookers keeled over laughing.
Ironhide's low growl made Sideswipe peak around the little yellow form held before his faceplate as he grinned sheepishly. "Nice new paint job mech."
"Remove the youngling from your faceplate so I can break it in half." Ironhide rumbled.
"Umm I like my faceplate the way it is so I think I'm good." The red twin took a step back while the rest of the room was still dissolved in laughter.
"Sideswipe!" Ironhide snarled.
"Hide," Bee spoke up again seemingly to be completely fine with his place between his raging Sire and one of his favorite big brothers. "Why you pink?"
Sides stifled a chuckle while the room fell into another bout of laughter. Ironhide's cannons whirled loudly as he tried to rein in his temper so he didn't explode on his charge. "Why don't you ask Sideswipe!?"
Oh.
Sides pranked him.
Glancing over his thin shoulder the little mechling flicked his antennas at Sides who was still cowering behind him. The red mech offered him a grin. At least he had the decency to look the slightest bit ashamed.
"You did it." Bee stated.
Sides chuckled nervously. "Uh yeah, Bee."
Ironhide snarled.
"But! I didn't mean for it to be pink!"
"Uh huh." Bee rolled his optics. He guessed it was kind of funny that his guardian was now splattered bright pink, but in all honesty he preferred him the way that he was. And there was the small little detail that Sides didn't let him be a part of the prank. If he couldn't play as well than he had no intention of saving Sides from his fuming target.
Turning his bright optics across the room he found Jazz clutching his middle, bent double and laughing so hard his cooling fans were running trying to keep him from overheating. Bee chirped gaining the mech's attention. Gasping for breath Jazz glanced up laughing anew as he took in the scene before him another time making sure to snap several internal pictures. This was blackmail gold! He got serious again though when Bee pulsed at his spark and gained control of himself as he straightened up while the others were watching with interest trying to keep their laughter tamed down a bit as well.
Bee simply held out both arms toward Jazz and wiggled his fingers pulsing his desire to be held. Jazz complied—much to Sides' horror—strolling forward to snatch up the little mech, though Sideswipe was having none of it. He brought Bumblebee close to his chest and held on for dear life as he backed across the room from Ironhide who followed him each fearful step matched with a fuming step.
"Put. Him. Down. Now. And. Take. The. Slagging. Like. A. Mech!" Ironhide bit out each word carefully faking calm as he backed Sides into the C-Ball table his brother had previously been using.
"Sunny . . . help?" Sides pleaded over their bond.
Sunstreaker snorted as he leaned against the round table with a C-ball staff in hand as he watched the drama unfold. "Nah you did this one on your own. I think the beating should be just you too."
"You're gonna let Hide KILL YOUR OWN BROTHER!?"
"He won't kill you." Sunny assured. "I'm pretty sure anyway."
"You feel my pain you aft head!"
"Only in spark." Sunstreaker shrugged. "And I can live with it."
"I hate you."
"No you don't."
"Yes I do."
"No you don't."
"Yes I do!"
"Well you won't for long."
"This is gonna hurt."
"Yep."
The red mech twisted to hand Bee off to his brother and then bowed his head winching even before Hide's fist came down on top of it.
"Oww," Sides moaned quietly after Ratchet wacked him once more for good measure over the head with a wrench, but he didn't complain anymore after that. Mainly because Ratchet was too busy mumbling and grumbling under his breath to listen to his pleas anyway. It was better for him and every other bot in the long run to just let the CMO attempt to smack the stupidly out of him for a while and then patch him back up.
Compared to the other few times Sideswipe had been glitchy enough to try and pull something off on Ironhide this beating was nowhere as bad. Quite frankly the massive mech just smacked him around a little bit and gave him one sizable dent on his audio horn which Ratchet made worse before he fixed. And the warrior was very much aware that he owed that mercy from the weapons specialist to the little yellow bundle that had been in his brother's arms. Ironhide would never be really violent in front of Bumblebee.
None of them really would.
They didn't want him to have to see anymore violence than he already did.
But locked in the medical bay where only his brother was around to see Ratchet smack him, he was much more fair game.
"I mean do you have a death wish or something!?" Sideswipe finally tuned back in on the medic's ranting. "PINK! You dyed Ironhide pink! Do you realize that if you hadn't have hid behind Bumblebee he would have dismantled you from the ankles up!? Pit! I'm going to dismantle you from the ankles up! You hear that you little glitch!? It wasn't even mid orn yet! Don't you have reports or patrols to do? Don't you have something useful to occupy yourself with? Why must you constantly find ways to drive Prowl glitchy, put Hide on the fritz, and force me to beat sense into you!?"
"Because it's fun?" He offered.
BAM!
"OWW!"
"I'm being serious!"
"I don't like serious. War is serious. Our lives are serious. We have enough serious. I make home not so serious. And secretly you all love me for it."
Ratchet drew back for another smack but halfway raised wrench he sighed, lowered it, turned away, and went to digging through tools nearby.
"Just next time . . . ." He drew a breath. "Pick a less 'pink' color, alright. Ironhide is nothing if not proud. He doesn't do embarrassment. You know this."
"That's what makes it so much fun!" Sides grinned much like Bee does as he swung his legs back and forth over the edge of the berth smiling to the yellow and red medic's back. It earned him a growl in return, but he just kept right on smiling. Much like his quiet twin in the corner was doing. Sunstreaker might not have saved Sideswipe from Ironhide's pending wrath but he did—unfortunately—love his idiotic twin brother and was forced to—under pretense of guilt—haul his limping aft to Ratchet after Hide was done, and since he was already there it made since to hang around and make sure he was patched back up and not beat to death for his stupidity. After all, a dead Sideswipe would seriously complicate his life.
Mainly because it would kill him too.
But that was another matter entirely.
"Wrench," Sunstreaker spoke up from his place leaning in the corner drawing the medic's and his brother's attention.
"Yeah, Sunstreaker?"
"I . . . ." The golden mech wondered how he was going to word this little idea that had struck him last night and not sound too much like his over ecstatic twin. Deep down he knew he should bring a question like this to Prime, or at least Ironhide since he dictated most of what the Half Pint did, but it was easier to talk to Ratchet. As much as he respected and cared about the commander and his weapons specialist, Ratchet was the one he trusted to open himself up too.
"Yes?" Ratchet prompted laying down his tools and offering the golden pretty-mech his full attention.
"I had a . . . question of sorts . . . I guess."
Sides tilted his head.
Ratchet waited.
He was very much aware that Sunstreaker was not the twin gifted with the ability to put his emotions into words—no that was the red fool that never muted it, not the golden moody one that usually only expressed himself with his hands be they fisted around armor or a paint brush—so he knew better than to try and press too much. Sunstreaker would talk when he found the words he was looking for and urging him on would only make him frustrated and embarrassed and that never ended well.
In fact it usually just meant more work for Ratchet. So he was content to wait and see what the mech was stumbling over words for now.
"Well after what happened the last time . . . ." Sunstreaker was pretty sure he sounded like an idiot, and he hated it when he sounded like an idiot. That was his fraggin' twin's job! "Primus damn it all! Can we take Half Pint to see the storage tunnels!?"
Ratchet blinked while Sideswipe beamed.
"That's a great idea!" The red mech hopped from the medical berth. "In fact that's just about brilliant! You're a genius, Sunny! Wait . . . why didn't I think of that?"
"Because I'm the brilliant one." Sunny rolled his optics.
"Hey I'm brilliant too." Sides snapped.
"When you aren't being an idiot. Maybe."
"Yeah! When I'm not being an idiot!"
Sunstreaker just rolled his optics again as Sideswipe nodded his head in silly righteous superiority while Ratchet just stood there glancing back and forth between the brothers. Sometimes they were quite entertaining, but this time the medic was hung up on the request.
Take the youngling down into the storage tunnels?
Where had that come from?
They'd been at the hidden tunnels for a while, yes, and Bee had asked about what it was the mechs were doing a few times, but it was cold, wet, and dreary down there. It was not really anywhere he needed to be. Besides there was a lot down there he didn't truly need to see.
"So can we? Can we take him on another field trip?" Sides spun on Ratchet his dark blue optics lit up in excitement, completely forgetting all about the stunts he had pulled this morning and fully ready to go get his foolish aft in trouble again.
If he didn't do anything else Sideswipe sure did bounce back fast.
That was just the way Sides was.
The medic looked him over for a few klicks in secret pride before turning his attention to Sunstreaker. He stood looking as impassive as usual to all those that didn't know him well enough to see the curiosity bubbling in his own brightened dark blue optics. He really wanted to do this.
"The last two field trips didn't really go all that well, mechs." Crossing his arms Ratchet leaned back on the counter behind him his optics dancing over each of them.
"That's why I'm asking permission." Sunstreaker stated bluntly.
"And we never ask permission for anything!"
"From me?"
"Well . . . you listen better." Sunstreaker mumbled looking away. Something in Ratchet's spark warmed a little at the words.
"Optimus listens to the two of you as well, Sunny." He reminded gently.
"The last time the little bratling got off this ship he came home dragging the Dinobots. I figured my chances of getting what I want were better if I had your support."
"And why do you want to take him down into that overcrowded, dark, cold, supply maze?"
Sunstreaker was quiet for a moment.
When the moment stretched on into a few quiet kicks Sides stepped a little closer to his brother nudging him ever so slightly with his elbow.
"Yeah, Sunny. Why do we want to take him down there?"
"Found something." Sunstreaker mumbled.
Sides perked up even more. "Really? What did you find? Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you're overly excitable." Sunstreaker groaned, mentally shoving his bouncing on his toes brother over their twin bond.
"That I am," Sideswipe drawled. "And you adore me for it."
The golden mech cast him a scowl. Looking him over with mock scrutiny before he huffed and looked away again. "How are we even related?"
Sides laughed out loud. "Because split sparks are weeeeiiiirrrrd."
"What did you spike your energon with this morning?" Sunny grunted.
"That stuff I've been messing with." Sides shrugged.
He received an even darker glare.
"What?"
The glare intensified.
"I'm actually not as stupid as most mechs think I am and you know it! I do get chemical compounds. I know how to make high-grade that won't blow up or kill me."
Sunstreaker glared a few nano-klicks longer before he rolled his optics once again shaking his head. "When you poison yourself and die you should know that I'm going to brutally murder you."
"You'll murder me after I'm dead and you're dead too?"
"I'll find a way."
"I have no doubt my beloved big brother."
"When we spar later you're deader than dead."
"Sounds fun!"
Ratchet cleared his throat. "You two do remember I can't hear you when you do that?"
Both twins' attention snapped back to the medic.
Sunstreaker sighed. "I found some cave paintings I wanted to show him."
"Ancient Tribe cave paintings?" Sideswipe tilted his head once again. "Cool."
"Then take some pictures and show him that way." Ratchet lifted an optic ridge. There was more to this than just showing him what he'd found. Sunstreaker was uneasy about something. He just didn't want to talk about it. The medic could sense it. He'd come to know his adopted sons that well.
The grumble and the glare the golden mech shot his way was proof of that.
Crossing his arms and looking away was the universal sign of Sunny being done with a conversation. Ratchet decided to play along. He shrugged turning back to his unorganized tools letting Sunstreaker prickle up even more until he finally snarled out a breath and came clean.
"He doesn't understand it."
Ratchet turned back with a curious gaze. "Understand what?"
"Those stupid lessons Prowl is making him do! He's learning about the Tribes right now and he's trying but I can see it. He doesn't understand how they were all divided, at each other's throats, and yet still relied on each other to a degree. He has nothing to connect it to. He gets stuff better when he can touch it, but he can't touch the words on the data pad. It's just words scrolling up a screen. He needs to hold it, actually see it. Those old cave paintings could help. Give him something to help him get what it is Prowl is trying to teach him."
Sideswipe nodded, suddenly understand what it was his brother was trying to do. He was trying to help Half Pint understand the 'studies' Prowl had decided Bumblebee was old enough to start. The little one got most of it, except math. It was becoming quite clear math was not Bee's strong point, but he could read better than most thought he'd be able too, and history is really what he found fascinating. He'd sit for breems in front of one of those data pads Prowl gave him if it was a history lesson. The Tribes confused him though. Because there hadn't been a lot of recorded history back then when all of Cybertron was broken into sub groups, some tearing each other to pieces, some moving forward in the world building cities like Iacon. It was very different things happening at the same time that Bee didn't get why, but he wanted too and not understanding was staring to upset him.
Sides and Sunny had sat there beside him quite a few orns now since Prowl started his studies watching him, trying to help him, but they didn't really know anymore about history than he did. Jazz and Hide were really the ones that should be teaching him about it, but their own Tribes—the ones that were still around after the council was formed and started naming decedents of the Primes—were a touchy subject. Because they had been wiped from the face of the planet for not complying. For not civilizing. That wasn't really something Jazz and Hide liked to talk about because they had left their breed. They had joined the Guard. They had chosen sides against their own.
They were among the last of their kind.
And having Bee know that the council that had once ruled over all of Cybertron behind the word of the Prime had sentenced thousand of bots to death for not falling in line was not really something Bee needed to know just as of yet. He wouldn't understand why it happened.
Pit.
None really any understood why it was done.
Why the council thought they had to wipe out the last of the Tribes scattered in the Sea of Rust. They did though. It was that darker side of the Cybertronian nobles and upper class.
The part Sunstreaker and Sideswipe knew all too well.
The side that Bumblebee had been sparked into.
This particular subject was dancing around a very thin line, but Prowl thought it best if Bumblebee knew about Cybertron before the war. Sure the SIC was watering it down for the youngling, but he still wanted him to know things. Because the little one showed interest. He was just having a hard time grasping the concept that was the Tribal Wars since none of the mechs were willing to give him all the information as of yet. That would come when he was older. When he would more fully understand what war really was.
For now though he needed some way to grasp the differences that had been between the tribes, and what Sunny had found down in those archeology tunnels just might do the trick. If nothing else they would amuse the little one.
"It could help him understand." Ratchet nodded slowly as he thought it over. "And the tunnels are secure. The 'Cons don't even know about them."
"Lucky us." Sideswipe put it.
"Yes," Ratchet agreed. "I don't see the harm as long as you don't let him out of your sight, but you still have to ask Prime and Ironhide."
"Will you tell them that you don't see the harm in it?" Sunstreaker mumbled.
"I'll go with you to talk to them." Ratchet assured him.
Sunstreaker cast him a rare half smile. "Thanks."
To his credit; Ironhide went a whole four nano-klicks before he bellowed.
"PIT NO!"
"Oh come on, Hide!" Sideswipe pleaded.
"NO!" The massive ebony mech snarled across the desk that stood between him and the red idiot that decided this morning it would be a good idea to paint him pink. "You think I'm gonna let you take Bumblebee anywhere after you decided it would be a good idea to set up a paint bomb in my shooting range!?"
"In my defense." Sunstreaker grumbled from where he stood with his arms cross beside his brother trying very hard not to beat him into a pulp for once again being the reason he was getting punished. "He is the stupid one. I don't think it's fair to judge my request alongside his actions."
"He's your twin, aft." Ironhide growled to him.
"Yeah!" Sides faked insult placing his hand over his spark as he twisted to glare at his brother. "I'm your twin!"
"That was not my choice." Sunstreaker scowled.
Sideswipe narrowed his optics. "Some big brother you are."
"Some little brother you are." Sunstreaker glared back.
"Why you damn shiny, pretty-mech, pour excuse for a—" Sides had already reared back to nail his twin between the optics before Ratchet stepped up and shoved them apart a cold as ice glare shot both their ways.
"Knock. It. Off. The pair of you!" He warned.
Sunstreaker spun away thoroughly pissed with his brother while Sideswipe did the same and for a klick the room was silent as the CMO, the WS, and CO stood there watching them. It wasn't like Sunstreaker to make request. Usually he just sat back quietly and either said nothing or got enough and eventually took what he wanted. Optimus found this change a bit refreshing, though the two frontliners not being able to get through a conversation without trying to scrap each other was a bit nostalgic at the same time.
He was doing his very best not to chuckle at the pair of them.
"So," He started once he was sure his vocal processor was going to heed his orders of 'no laughing at Sunstreaker when he is trying to be civil'. "You want to show him the cave paintings?"
The golden mech grunted a positive.
"His brother should have thought of that before he made me spend a joor in the wash racks this morning scrubbing off pink paint." Ironhide grumbled.
"I didn't know it was pink!" Sideswipe pleaded.
"You see," Sunstreaker seethed. "You can't even mix paint right!"
"I also didn't know you wanted to take him anywhere!" Sideswipe swung to face his still smoldering with anger twin. "And for the love of Primus, will you stop calling me stupid!? I'm not stupid! Silly, foolish, idiotic on certain orns I'll admit it but I'm not stupid, Sunny!"
Sunstreaker glared over his shoulder. "I wouldn't call you it if you thought before you acted!"
"It was a prank!" Sides threw his hands in the air trying to rein in his own anger. "Okay? I'm sorry!" He spun on Ironhide his dark blue optics pleading and pissed at the same time. "I. Am. Sorry. There I said it! Throw me in the brig! Make me clean the paint out of the shooting range! Let the Dinobots use me as a chew toy! I will take whatever punishment you feel like dishing out! I was just bored! And I hate bored! I just needed something to do. I prank, you mechs know that, and I'm not about to stop. I can't. I'd go fraggin' glitchy. Just this time his royal highness aft-head over here," He motioned wildly to his brother. "Had nothing to do with it! So let him go help Half Pint with the stupid Tribe stuff since you and Jazz won't teach him about it yourselves! I'll be in the brig!"
With that the red warrior spun on his heels and made for Prime's office door only to be snatched by his scruff bar by a quick golden hand.
He stopped but he didn't look back to see his brother and Sunstreaker didn't let go. Just held on to him for a long klick before he sighed over their bond.
"I don't think you stupid, Sides."
"Could have fooled me." He hissed back at him letting the hurt and the anger he felt spill over his spark to his brother.
"Oh—" Sunny stopped himself from saying 'grow up you over grown sparkling' because in all honesty he didn't want his twin to grow up.
Ever.
He didn't want Sides to stop pranking, because then he wouldn't be the free fun-loving fool he had been able to become since he they got out of the pit they grew up in. And despite all his bluff and bull deep down he was only an older sibling who loved his little brother more than he loved life itself. Even back when they had run from the Rings—when he was suicidal and stupid—he had just been trying to protect Sides, even from himself. He didn't want him to have to be the colder, harder one. Which was why he had always stepped up to the fight gates.
He killed so Sideswipe didn't have too.
He was mean so Sideswipe didn't have to be.
He was closed off so Sideswipe didn't have to be.
And then, he had learned to love and trust again because Sideswipe had asked him too.
Everything he did he did for his brother.
Just sometimes they acted like brothers. He'd be the first to admit they scrapped each other on a regular basis because they ticked each other off. It was true. They both knew just the right way to get under the other's armor. They still loved each other though, and they would never truly hurt each other.
With a soft sigh Sunstreaker was honest as he poured his love . . . his everything over the bond to his brother. "You know I love you, you idiotic glitch. Now get over here and help me talk them into this. You're the one that's good with words."
"You're an aft you know that, Sunny?" Sides sent an almost purr back to his brother he was so happy to swim in the warmth of the love Sunstreaker rarely knew how to show.
"And you're a foolish glitch. Can we move on now?"
"Say I'm the best little brother in the whole wide universe." Sides snickered.
"Sorry, that's Half Pint."
Sides was about to protest before he snorted. "Okay, so yeah I can't argue with that."
All that happened in the span of about three blinks and then Sideswipe was spinning back to face the officers with a smirk as Sunstreaker let him go and crossed his arms looking into the optics of those he trusted and respected.
"Are you done now?" Ratchet questioned knowing they had been talking over their bond.
"Yep." Sides grinned innocently. "Is my apology accepted?"
Ironhide rolled his optics. It was hard to be mad at the fool Ratchet considered his son. Either of them for that matter. It was also ringing a little true to his audios what Sunstreaker was trying to say. He should be helping Bee with his questions about the Tribes, but it was hard to remember the life he had turned his back on to join the Guard. It was hard to look his son in the optics and tell him his own breed had refused to give up their 'barbaric' ways and all that didn't leave were killed for it.
Including his creators.
If Sunstreaker thought he could help Bee learn with the paintings. Then so be it. Despite how much fuss he gave them he knew both mechs would lay down their lives for the little yellow bundle of trouble, and that they'd do it without a thought.
He owed them for that.
"Sure whatever, but you're still cleaning the shooting range."
"Done!" Sides agreed.
"So . . . can we take him?" Sunstreaker looked to the Prime.
"You think it will help him understand?" Optimus lifted an optic ridge.
"History is his favorite." Sunny nodded. "But he learns better when he can touch stuff."
"I have noticed." Optimus put in.
"So I figured if he could, you know actually touch them that he would get the data pads better."
"What part of the Tribes is he having trouble grasping."
"Why some were tearing each other apart while others will learning to build skyscrapers, and you know the whole big black nothing of what happened to them. Since you don't want him to know about the Tribal Wars yet."
"He is still a very young youngling, Sunstreaker." Optimus sighed.
"I don't want him to know about anymore war than the one he's living in either, Prime." The golden mech offered. "But I also know just as well as you mechs do how curious he is. He's cleverer than we give him credit for a lot of the time."
"He's going to figure it out." Sides nodded. "With or without us giving him the information."
"Well I'm sheltering him as long as I can." Hide grumbled under his breath. "This war might be destroying our very race, but what gutted the Sea of Rust nearly did too."
"History repeats itself." Ratchet let out a tried breath.
"Yes," Optimus' optics grew distant. "For those too foolish to learn from it."
Silence fell between the mechs that knew the words were far too true until the Prime gathered himself back into the present.
"Hot Rod and I were planning on going down in a few breems anyway to see what he will need for his next little project. Hide, were you still planning on coming down to see if that cannon you were talking about is still in the vault?"
"That was the plan, yeah." Ironhide nodded.
"Alright. Sunny, Sides you may come along and bring Bumblebee."
Sunstreaker nodded to his leader his silent thanks.
Meanwhile; in a corner of pit far, far, far away.
Cobalt blue optics flashed open when a groan rolled through the massive mech's tanks. For a moment he lay there on his filthy berth trying to remember how in the pit he got home from the bar last night. He didn't remember coming back to his quarters. Nor did he remember anything he did after that seventh cube of high-grade.
That was probably a good thing.
Normally he didn't want to know once he found out.
Now though, he lay in his berth trying to ignore the pounding in his head and the swirling in his tanks.
Way too much, high-grade. Way, way, too much high-grade.
Pitching himself up he leaned over the side of his berth and proceeded to purge ever drop of energon in his tanks coughing and hacking and wheezing for a good seven klicks before he dropped his head with a clank on the bucket that had been so magically placed beside his berth, in the place it never failed he purged. For a moment he considered the possibility that maybe in his drunken state he put the bucket there before he fell faceplate first into his covers last night. However, knowing himself that really was unlikely. So that left two possibilities for his hungover processor to try and work though.
Did his best friend haul his aft back here, gift him with a bucket to purge into, and for once not leave his stupid aft to clean up the mess he made from his own idiocy?
Since his best friend and might-as-well-be brother was normally as over-energized as he was after a night of drinking away their bounty he kinda sorta doubted it. Knowing that fool, he was sharing some strange berth right now. He always did have better luck with the bots than he did, he clanked his head against the bucket, probably because he never purged all over their floors.
Yeah, that might have something to do with it.
The second option though, the one he was leaning toward and yet was really too terrified to really want to consider was the fact that there was only one other mech in the universe beside his best friend/brother that might possibly care enough about his health to drag him back here and not leave his aft in the bar to get robbed of every credit he didn't drink away last night.
The thought of that made him cough into the bucket again.
Please let some random femme be in my wash-racks right now and it not be him that brought me here. Pleading to whatever higher power that was up there and might be listening he dared peak one optic open and looked toward the direction of his private wash-racks.
As dark and as empty as death.
Yep. That was what he was afraid of.
"How long you going to lay there and try to figure out whether or not it was me that hauled your foolish aft home?"
His energon ran cold in his veins, but he hid it with a play-mech smile. If there was one thing he was good at, it was hiding what was eating him alive inside. And seeing that huge death black mech with the golden streaks along his jagged armor that in the dim light he really didn't want to try and find since it made his processor was spinning—he knew where they were, he'd memorized the paint job of the mech that had saved him all those vorns ago without even really meaning to do it—but it was those burning ember orange optics that cut into his spark that faulted his grin for the slightest of moments.
It had been a while since those orange orbs had held his cobalt blue ones.
And he didn't really know whether or not that was a good thing.
"Well, well, well look what the robo-cat drug in!" He pushed himself up right trying to make it seem like his processor wasn't whirling around in a cloud of mist. In the back of his mind he was trying to figure out if his weapons programs were functional. He wouldn't put it past this old bastard to drag him all the way home and sit with him all night just to slit his throat when he came to.
Yeah, that was something the old aft would do no doubt about that.
However, it seemed his old teacher was not here to kill him this orn. Picking himself up from the chair by the door the dark mech strolled across the room making sure to keep both hands visible at all times. He'd taught the young drunkard in the berth, he knew he was on edge and wary of why he was here. After all he'd turned him and the other lose vorns ago to take care of themselves after they both so stupidly ended up in his ditch of pit.
Foolish aft heads.
Once he was standing at the bright red mech's berth he pulled his reason for being here from subspace and offered it to the younger, brighter colored, mech's hand.
For a few nano-klicks former student observed former teacher before he flicked his head to the side and narrowed his bright optics. He'd already figured out his old mentor was not here to kill him, but that didn't explain why he was here, and he knew better than to just read whatever he was handed. Not from this mech. No.
He was not that stupid.
"What is this about?"
"Read it and find out."
The bright red mech snorted. "You think I'm that dumb? You taught me better than that."
"So I did." The old teacher sighed. "It's a bounty. One that you didn't hear go out since you and your idiot brother were tracing all over who knows where chasing that 'Con deserter."
The red mech grinned. "Hey, we caught him didn't we? The credits on his head were well worth the new scars."
"I'm sure." The black mech rolled his optics. He'd long past out lived the thrill that chasing bounties brought. He had no interest in them anymore. All he wanted now was the two that he was working with on and off to get off their over-energized afts and collect what needed collecting before some other mech killed it.
If it was really out there.
A part of him was still not sure.
"Awe, does boss feel left out because we took a job that he didn't give us?" The red mech fake pouted his bright cobalt optics glittering with mirth up to the larger mech. Well that is until the larger mech back handed him and he found himself sprawled out on his floor on the other side of the room nursing a stinging check. "OWW! DAMN YOU!"
"You will do well not to forget who kept you alive when you got your stupid aft hauled into the Rings." The black mech rounded the berth and came to stand over the mech that had been his student. "Now get up and hear what I have to tell you."
The red one shoved himself up, but his optics were narrowed and angry.
"You aren't my teacher anymore, aft." He hissed. "I don't answer to you! We can take care of ourselves been doing it for a long time!"
"But you still work for me do you not?"
"I'm a bounty hunter! I work for the highest bidder." And he tried to pretend a long lost part of himself didn't break when he said that.
"Oh yes," The black mech chuckled darkly. "And you hate what you have become."
"I didn't have a choice." Those blue optics narrowed. "You made sure of that."
"Do not blame me for keeping you both alive." The orange ones did the same. "I could have let you get gutted, but I saw promise in you and you were spared. Do not make me regret it. You both are exceptionally good at what you do, and now I need you to do what you do best again."
"Haul in another prize?" The red mech crossed his arms lifting an optic ridge.
"Something along those lines." He offered the data chip again and this time the younger one took it flicking into his wrist port and watching the information come to life before his optics. He stood still for a klick and then bent over laughing like a mad mech.
"What!?" He wheezed around his barks of humor. "You actually expect me to believe this!? Ha! Oh pit, I would have never pegged you as a mech to chase after sparkling-tales!"
"I want to know if it is a sparkling-tale or not." The darker mech narrowed his optics again. "That is all, and since I cannot leave nor chase it on my own. I need you and your brother too."
The red mech considered him for a moment before he saw something burning in his teacher's optics.
"This is important to you."
The other mech showed no further emotion.
The younger one tilted up his chin. "I deserve to know what I'm chasing."
With a sigh his orange optics lowered to the floor before he spoke. "He should be dead. His carrier is dead; they hauled in her broken, lifeless frame. I saw it with my own optics. That means he should be dead. Yet somebot in this pit has released this bounty for something that should not be a possibility. I need to know if it is him or not."
"And who is this him?"
"If you find out he's alive I'll tell you." Was the only answer he got.
"All this says is a yellow youngling, should be about twelve vorns old." The red mech reviewed his data. "If you think I'm killing a youngling—which there are no more of by the way—then you really have been in that pit too long. You might not care what you kill, boss, but I do. I won't kill a youngling."
"If he is alive, I don't want him dead." The older mech hissed. "I just want to know! Because if he is alive than every mech in these pits is after the price on his head!"
"That is a really high mark."
"They will haul him in dead or alive to collect that bounty! They will kill him! The only way to keep that from happening is to go and see if he really is out there and to get him before they do."
"And what am I supposed to do with a youngling that may or may not even be real once I find him?"
"You will bring him in. To me."
"And what are you going to do with him?"
"I will get the price off his head."
"You will remove the price from his head? Do you even know who placed the bounty?"
"Oh I know." He answered his optics darkening. "The High Ring Master that lost him in the first place. He wants to make sure he is dead."
The red mech paused. "You're not telling me everything."
"Do I ever?"
"This is a lot of trouble for a youngling that might be dead."
"Will you take the job or not?" The black mech hissed.
"Oh, I'll take the job." He nodded. "But when we get back with or without your sparkling-tale you're gonna tell the truth. You owe me that much."
"And you owe me enough to do it now without asking too many questions. Pull off what I want and you will have your answers."
"Fine," Those cobalt blue optics were already growing distant as the younger red mech started mentally planning and figuring. For one he was gonna have to find that stupid brother of his and then they were going to have to find where on Cybertron a sparkling-tale could be hidden before some other bounty hunters did. "But where am we supposed to find him? He obviously isn't alone. Somebot protects him. We're going to have to fight to get him most likely. Besides you know how long it's been since I took care of something that small? How do I get him back to you in one piece without the whole world noticing him?"
"You'll figure it out."
"Gee that is a lot of help, boss."
The big black mech had turned from him by then and was headed for the door when he looked over his sharply armored shoulder to meet the younger, brighter, more alive blue optics that were willing to go chasing after what he desperately needed to know if was real or not. He owed his student a lot more of an explanation than the one he could give him. It occurred to him in the back of his processor that it was probably a really good idea that he'd come to this one and not his brother. The other would have laughed in his faceplate and said come back when he was willing to tell them the truth then most likely promptly slammed the door.
But he couldn't tell them the truth yet.
Because he was afraid to believe it.
And it had been a Primus-damn long time since this hardened gladiator had been scared of anything. The possibility that the runt could have lived though—that he was out there somewhere—he had to know. He owed her that much.
He owed her the chance for her to rest in peace. If he could help keep the damned bastard runt alive then he would try. For her. Because she had loved the vile thing more than she had loved life itself . . . more than she had loved him. Even if he knew sooner or later the thing would get snuffed out. Even if he hated everything the vile runt represented. Even if he himself wasn't sure he wouldn't snap his neck as soon as look at him.
"Swindle." He said quietly.
"Swindle?" The red mech snorted. "You have officially gone glitchy."
"Oh don't patronize me!" He snarled, his orange optics flashing dangerously. "The two-bit lying coward will be your best shot at figuring out where he is quickly. As much as I hate that lying thief he is good at what he does. He will help you find him, but be quick about it. More than just his life is at stake here."
And with that he was gone leaving the red mech standing there in his berthroom shaking his head trying to figure out where his life went so fragging glitchy.
Well he knew.
It just still shocked him some times.
How one bad decision made out of pain and anger can alter the very fabric of destiny.
Well, there was nothing he could do to go back and make the wrongs he committed right now. He had long ago given up on the hope that he could ever beg forgiveness for his stupidity. Besides, he was good at what he did. He and his brother both were.
He refused to let himself think of the could have, should have, would have scenarios anymore. All that would get him was dead.
Swallowing down the dread of yet another trip to end somebots life he pulled on his fake smile and went in search of the only brother he dared to let himself think he'd ever see again.
Meanwhile: On the outskirts of what was left of Crystal City, not so very far away.
There was only one thing in his processer at the moment, and that was; the first thing he was going to do after he found that damn Prime was punch him in his fraggin' faceplate.
This was all his fraggin' fault! And he would go to his damn grave swearing that to the Well and back.
The pit damned, fragger, pour excuse for a two-bit processing program was going to get his shiny blue fist between those righteous optics of his! Did they even know how long he'd been sneaking around dark corners in that pit trying to get a signal out!? Then, when he finally does drag himself and the three others he somehow managed to save out of there in one piece THE DAMN BOTS DON'T ANSWER HIS TRANSMISSIONS!
GAH!
He was going to murder some mechs when he got back.
Yes. Oh pit yes.
When he was done with Prime then he was going after Jazz.
The fragger.
Stupid special opts director! The glitch was as good as twelve feet under! He was going to bury him!
Deep.
Where no bot would ever find him.
Or dare to go looking, because he'd put a plasma round though whoever was that fraggin' stupid.
Leaping off his lookout post he marched around fuming for a good three klicks before he sighed deeply, the tension rolling out of his frame.
No. No, he wasn't going to do any of that. No matter how bad he might want to right now. The truth was he just wanted to go home. He just wanted to be done with this mission. He just wanted to make it back with all of them still in once piece. If it wasn't for the youngest of the three's talented hands as a medic it was likely all four of them would already be dead.
He silently thanked Primus for his generosity in that department.
Of course compared to all the slag they'd been through up until now, that kind of paled in comparison.
But he was trying to be optimistic.
They were halfway to the hidden tunnels. Judging by the signals he was picking up that was where Prime was. Though he was on a different ship. Which confused the bright mech at first, but then again this was war. The old ship might have gotten blown up. It was possible.
Highly likely actually.
So at this point he was just rolling with it.
It was an Autobot signal. That was all he cared about right now. It was Autobot and it was his ticket home. So that was where he was going.
Thunder boomed overhead and he let out a tired breath.
If only he could get there before the fraggin' rain ruined his finish.
Well now, I wonder who those bots could be?
Hee-hee.
I've waited forever to write this chapter and here it is! I love it.
Well I hope you liked it too, and I look forward to hearing what you thought. I also know the chapters are a bit sporadic right now and I'm sorry guys I'm trying. It's just that its the end of the semester and I'm trying to get everything finished up. I really am working hard to keep up with updates, just be patient with me. In a few weeks I'll be done and updates will be like they should be again. Just bare with me.
The next chapter is . . . well . . . stuff happens. Big stuff.
Hope to see you there! Hopefully next Friday or Saturday . . . or Sunday. I'll do my best.
-Jay