Silverstorm watched as Sunstreaker and Mirage grappled. Their strong limbs trembled as they tried to break free of each other. Sunstreaker was one of the fiercest hand-to-hand fighters in the group. Mirage wasn't the strongest, but he was quick. And he naturally used his camouflaging ability to his advantage. Sunstreaker was latched on so well that Mirage couldn't get away and use it. Sideswipe was cheering his twin on, hollering like crazy. Hound shouted for Mirage, but it was no use. With a straining of muscle cables, Sunstreaker twisted, lifted Mirage off the ground, then slammed him down, knocking the air out of him. He wheezed as his vents struggled to open then he gasped in air. Sunstreaker grinned and sat back on his heels, automatically turning to receive praise from his Prime.

"That was a good move, Sunny," Silverstorm said with a smile. "But Mirage is not trying to actively kill you. Remember, this is practice. The goal is to temporarily incapacitate him, not hurt him."

Sunstreaker smirked. "Not my fault that I'm the best."

The smile dropped from Silverstorm's face. "Don't get cocky, Sunny. You're a novice. Most 'Cons could take you out without shuttering an optic."

Sunstreaker's mood shifted, and he looked angry. "I can beat anybody here!"

Silverstorm knew a direct argument would only produce a shouting match. So he helped Mirage up and ordered them to reset. Sunstreaker looked around, daring the other younglings to challenge him. It was certainly a surprise when Silverstorm stepped forward and dropped into a ready position. The cockiness was replaced with unease. When Sunstreaker had claimed he could beat anybody, he wasn't counting on fighting his Prime.

"Ready?" Silverstorm asked.

Sunstreaker nodded then lunged forward immediately. Silverstorm dodged the attack and struck Sunstreaker across the shoulders, hitting him with enough force to knock him to the ground. Before the youngling could get up, Silverstorm pinned him, pressing his knife against a vital Energon line. Sunstreaker let out a noise of fear, and his whole world narrowed to the pressure of a sharp tip that could end him in a second. Then it was gone, and the youngling turned over and looked at his Prime, his optics pink in humiliation. Silverstorm idly twirled the knife in his fingers, every optic latched on the deadly weapon.

Every one of them had been cut while playing with their own blades. The knives were sharp enough to easily cut through circuitry and cables, and they all knew the pain of wounds now. They were even warier of the weapons than before, and after catching Sunstreaker and Sideswipe playfully stabbing at each other, Silverstorm had ordered that they not spar with them. They were only to use the knives against stationary targets and under supervision. Silverstorm alone could use the knife in battle with any proficiency. So to have him use the knife to make a point to Sunstreaker was a harrowing experience for the youngling.

"You…" Sunstreaker reached up and touched the line in his throat.

"Don't get cocky," Silverstorm replied, sheathing his knife at his hip. "Anybody who has ever been in battle can kick your aft. You are good, Sunny. But if you want to be great, you need to live long enough to practice. Do you understand?"

Sunstreaker stared at him, his optics fading from pink to blue. He slapped away Silverstorm's proffered hand. "I don't need your pity!" he spat.

"I don't see somebody who deserves pity," Silverstorm said. He offered his hand again. "I see great potential in you. You just need to tap into it."

Sunstreaker sat still for a moment then lowered his head and accepted the hand. Chastised, he left the circle and sat down to watch the others. His fingertips continued to move up to his neck, fingering the micro-dent where the tip of the knife had dug in. He was humiliated, but as he reflected and watched the others, he knew that he was hardly more graceful. He just so desperately wanted to prove himself as crucial to his Prime. Having had little acceptance in his life from anybody in charge, he craved this new leader's love and affection with a depth of need that scared him. He refused to talk to anybody about it, though he knew that his twin was aware that something was bothering him.

That was part of their twin bond, that they always knew the strong feelings and thoughts of the other. Humans would have called it mind-reading, but it wasn't exactly like that. Their sparks had split late in their development while they were in their incubation period. Because of that, they had a link that allowed their consciousnesses to brush against each other. Thoughts and emotions passed from one to the other. It made them the closest members of their group, but they had long ago learned when to draw the line. Sideswipe knew better than to probe unless things grew dire. So Sunstreaker sat still and craved. He didn't know how to make Silverstorm proud of him. But he wanted to. More than anything, he wanted his Prime to be proud of him.

As the session ended, Sunstreaker stayed put, glaring at the ground. Sideswipe glanced at him, but he didn't stop to chat. He could sense a great battle going on inside of his twin's head, and he was determined to keep out of it until invited. Out of the two of them, Sunstreaker was the more secretive and volatile. Sideswipe had been at the receiving end of Sunstreaker's rage more than once. He wasn't going to be mentally destroyed again for something as silly as curiosity.

"Coming, Sunny?" Silverstorm asked, pausing to stare at him.

Sunstreaker shook his head, his expression full of his conflicting emotions. Silverstorm hesitated. He could sense that Sunstreaker needed him in some way, but he wasn't exactly sure how. He had heard tales of those who pried into the yellow youngling's emotions and thoughts, and they weren't pretty. Still, the nagging, niggling feeling zapping between his spark and his mind urged him to sit down and talk. When he had been Silverstreak, he had abhorred talking. They never listened anyway. But then he was struck by the thought that he would listen. And that made all the difference. He walked over and sat down beside Sunstreaker. He didn't touch him, sitting with a small distance in between them, but when his youngling looked up, there was a mix of hesitation and relief on his face.

"Talk to me, Sunny," Silverstorm prodded.

"No," came the stubborn reply.

Silverstorm frowned, but then he shrugged. "Okay."

The Prime leaned back on his hands and tilted his head up to look at the stars. They were so much brighter than on Earth, and they sparkled like diamonds, twinkling and changing colors as the light filtered through the atmosphere of the planet. He sat there beside Sunstreaker and said nothing. Waiting had never been a strong point with Silverstreak, but this waiting wasn't painful. He knew in his spark that he was comforting Sunstreaker just by sitting with him. Time ticked on, and still, they sat, Sunstreaker tracing abstract patterns on the grimy ground, Silverstorm staring up at the stars and humming an old Cybertronian ballad that Blaster loved to play.

After a time, Sunstreaker shifted and glanced at the Prime. "Don't you have other things to do?" he asked.

"No," Silverstorm said.

"I thought you were forging a new weapon or something."

Silverstorm didn't look at Sunstreaker as he carefully replied. "You're more important than swords."

That sentence, spoken gently and firmly, broke something inside of Sunstreaker. Before he could stop himself, he began to sob, whines escaping his throat as the overwhelming need inside of him for love and affection was finally met. Silverstorm turned his head and smiled at Sunstreaker. He scooted over and wrapped his arm around the youngling's shoulders. Sunstreaker draped himself over Silverstorm's shoulder and sobbed and whined, relief and sorrow mixing inside of his spark. He lost himself in his emotions, the ones he never acknowledged to anybody but his twin.

When he finally got control of himself again, he tried to pull away as his optics turned pink, but Silverstorm tightened his grip on Sunstreaker's shoulders. Sunstreaker stilled and nuzzled into his Prime, overwhelmed and satisfied at the same time. He was suddenly very tired, and a soft churning noise came from his chest, indicating that he was content and happy. He hadn't been happy in a long, long time. It was so nice to be held and comforted by somebody who loved him. Because that was how he felt: loved and accepted. After a while, Sunstreaker stirred.

"I'm falling into recharge," he murmured.

Silverstorm chuckled. "Emotional day."

Sunstreaker nodded. "Yeah."

"Let's get you up to the berthroom. You could use a nap."

"Mmhm," Sunstreaker sighed.

Silverstorm stood and helped Sunstreaker to his feet. They walked slowly toward their home, Sunstreaker dragging his feet as he fought to stay awake. He always got so tired after an outburst, though usually it was anger-related instead of what just happened. When they got to the house, the others stopped their cleaning, looking surprised as Sunstreaker shuffled in. He glanced up to see them staring, but he didn't care. Even Sideswipe was startled by the peace that came from his twin's spark. Whatever had just happened between Sunstreaker and their Prime must have been huge.

Sunstreaker paused at the bottom of the stairs then turned back to Mirage and spoke

"I'm sorry for hurting you earlier."

Mirage shuttered his optics, but when no teasing jab or sharp retort came after the apology, he smiled and nodded. "It's okay, Sunny. You'll get better."

And everybody gaped as Sunstreaker smiled. It wasn't sarcastic or bitter or cruel. It was a soft, genuine smile that spoke volumes. That smile was so surprising that even Sideswipe stared. But Sunstreaker nodded and answered Mirage, the same, gentle smile on his face.

"I will. We all will." He paused then turned to Silverstorm. "Because we've got the best leader on Cybertron."

This time it was Silverstorm's optics that turned pink. He glanced away, a pleased smile on his face. "Go recharge for a while, Sunny," he said.

Sunstreaker nodded and headed up the stairs. The others watched him go then turned to stare hard at Silverstorm. Sideswipe tilted his head, his hands twisting the rag in his hands as he considered Silverstorm.

"What did you do?" he asked.

Silverstorm considered how to answer for a moment then shrugged. "I met him where he was. And I listened."

The answer was so simple, and the younglings looked back at the stairs, wondering what the gruff, angry Sunstreaker had said to their Prime. And more importantly, what had Silverstorm said to Sunstreaker to get him to apologize and smile like that. Sideswipe wanted to ask, but he knew better. He was a bit envious that Sunstreaker had a breakthrough so soon after meeting Silverstorm. He wanted attention. In fact, they all did.

After years of being left to their own devices, being visited once every few months by Ultra Magnus only to get an audio-full about how irresponsible and stupid and helpless and useless they were, they craved the Prime's affection and love just as much as Sunstreaker. They just hadn't realized it until Sunstreaker had come back, not angry, but happy. They wanted that happiness for themselves. Even Sideswipe wasn't happy with his twin. Jealousy tangled through their sparks, and they all turned bitterly to their cleaning job. They had been working, and Silverstorm hadn't praised them, hadn't noticed their efforts. It was maddening.

Silverstorm noticed their expressions, and he was uneasy. Despite the short time he'd spent with them, he loved them so much. He supposed that was a part of being a Prime (though his own thoughts about the Prime he knew were bitter about the lack of love shown to him). Still, he wasn't sure if his spark was big enough to love each one of them the way they needed to be loved. He decided then and there that he would put off the next cycle's sparring practice and the forging of the swords. He was going to go and meet up with Primus, which he had been avoiding for a couple of weeks. He'd convinced himself that his work was far more important than speaking with Primus. But he needed advice, he needed assurance, so he would go and face his fears of inadequacy with the mech who had saved his life and changed him on the outside. Perhaps he could change him on the inside, too.