Acee--

You know what this is. Happy reading over 14k words <3

---

The signal came, just like all the other ones, unexpectedly.

In their defense. ....okay, they had no defense. Lately signals were so common they should've been prepared.

But oh well, Sunstreaker mused as he walked through the thick forest, the visible landing marks leading him to his goal. What can you do?

He just hoped this one would be as easy as the other ones. ....Well, maybe with the small difference of the bot inside finally being an adult for once.

And it seemed that Primus listened to him for a change, with his last rounding revealing not only the escape pod, but a bot around his height already out on the ground, vents flared and coughing ugly. They also seemed to be absolutely covered in mud too, probably what irritated their vents.

He couldn't see an insignia anywhere on their body, so he approached with caution. But as their doorwings flared and their helm snapped up, revealing a young faceplate covered by a half-visor, the optic visible a deep, dark blue, he relaxed.

An autobot. Fucking finally.

"Careful, you'll cough out your internals if you go on like this." Sunstreaker commented, sliding down and closer to the new arrival. They- he? They seemed like a he, was looking at him with suspicion, body tense.

But then they seemed to relax, a small, unsure smile appearing on their lips.

Nervous. Yeah, Sunstreaker could get that.

"Oh don't mind me, I just have to get all this gunk outta my ventilation systems. Really irritates my intake, eheh..." The bot replied nervously, glancing up at him.

Eh, fair enough. He supposes he does look a bit intimidating to most, and this guy appeared to be on the younger side, going by their voice.

"No wonder, you landed in the middle of a forest right after a rainy night." Sunstreaker commented, kicking up some mud away from them. "Only place worse than this would be Detroit."

"Would be what?"

"....No matter, just cough it all out and I'll contact my base. Prime will be happy to hear you arrived here safe and sound. .....well, mostly." He added after a particularly harsh cough, turning away from the newcomer to call the others.

:Sunstreaker to base, you hear me over there?:

:Loud and clear.: Ratchet's voice filtered through his comms, calm as always. :Status?:

:Autobot uuh,: "You over there, mech, femme or neither?"

"Um- Mech?"

:Autobot mech, seems to be on the younger side, wouldn't be surprised if he turned up just 20 or 21. No visible injuries, just landed in a big pile of mud and some got into his vents. He's coughing it out as we speak, so wait like 2 minutes and send us a bridge. This works?:

:Copied and understood. Send us a signal when you're ready, we won't be playing blind-mole. With Trypticon back in the air, the last thing we want is a bridge open for god-knows how long, begging to be tracked to your location.:

He didn't pay much attention as the coughing stopped, nor as the bot walked closer. He couldn't blame the guy for being curious.

:Eh, fair enough. Just stand by then, I-:

It's why the sudden quiet 'click' and cold metal pressing against the back of his head made all his systems freeze and words die in his throat.

"Really," The mech said, voice calm, low. Mocking, almost, making Sunstreaker's energon boil in his lines, "it's your fault for turning your back on me."

"...." Frag.

:Sun? Sunstreaker, what's going on over there?:

:Halt everything. It's a con. And he's got me pinned.: "The blue must've confused me a little." He said, jarred, tried to at least, trying to mask the rare nervousness in his voice. This situation was turning worse and worse with each passing second. "Didn't see your kind wearing that yet."

"Oh boo-hoo for you getting deceived by a decepticon. It's almost like it's in our name."

Sunstreaker grit his teeth together, rage flowing through his veins at the decepticon's smug tone.

This is exactly why he fucking hated them all.

"Ah, yes, truly, pardon me for that." He deadpanned. "I'll make sure to do better next time."

Sunstreaker had the vague feeling the con behind his shrugged, the gun moving just a little, but not enough for him to make an escape without risking losing most of his head.

"Would be best for you. Honestly, it's mostly your fault for not expecting the unexpected." How the frag did that make any sense? Besides, expect the unexpected? That sounded like a shitty catchphrase from a sparkling's movie from pre-war. How old was this guy?- "You know, there's a whole thing about you seeing something and just assuming what it means. I mean, who said cons can't have blue optics? Why is it only autobots that can have them? You know, this is exactly why our society collapsed, because of people like you. Pretty racist if you ask me."

Sunstreak stalled, blinked, tried to process what the fuck he just heard, his processor feeling like it's about to overheat from the barrage of words coming from his would-pe-probably-possible-killer.

"....Wha-"

"Anyways, I kinda came here for a reason. So c'mon now, be a nice little- uh, big, I guess, you are kinda bigger than me- just, whatever, be a nice autobot and sever the commling connection. I'm sure your buddies heard everything they needed to hear."

"...Fine." Slowly, Sunstreaker took his servo away from his helm, ignoring the screams from the other side and panic leaking through the bond.

I'm fine. He hoped Sideswipe wouldn't call him out on the lie just yet.

"Great! Oh I already like you, you don't give me any problems like the other ones. Now, if you mind... answering some questions for me?"

There was an edge to the bot's voice as he said it. Sunstreaker didn't like it.

"....depends on what it is, I suppose."

"Oh, don't worry, something easy-peasy for ya."

"....try me, then." Keeping this clearly somewhat unstable guy occupied could save his life-

"What did you do to Barricade."

. . .

Ah. For some reason, he really wasn't surprised it all leads back to Barricade of all mechs.

"Easy-peasy as you said then. He came to us some months ago." There, perfect. The bot would listen, put the gun down, then he could explain everything and convince him to maybe even go back, anything to deprived the cons of another fighter-

"Ha. Hahah. Good one, good one. Now the truth."

-except the bot didn't listen, and now his tone was tense, lower. He wasn't happy with the truth.

"I'm telling you the truth, kid."

"Not whatever a 'kid' is, and stop lying." He snapped, digging his gun further into Sunstreaker's head. "I know Barricade. I know him better than anyone else in this world. Better than any information you freaks got outta torturing him. He'd have never joined in with the Prime-" for some reason, he said the word with such disdain, such clear disgust, it could've been mistaken for a curse just from tone alone "-willingly. So I repeat. What. Did. You. Do."

With each passing moment, Sunstreaker became increasingly more aware that he, in fact, was in grave danger.

".....I can't tell you anything more. I'm telling the truth." A 'tsk' split the air behind him, the gun shifting slightly.

"Great, you're problematic after all... no matter, Soundwave will get you to talk for sure. I know he doesn't believe that 'traitor' bullslag Starscream broadcasted out..... I'll deal with him later too. And now for you..." For some reason, Sunstreaker felt dread seep into his spark as something about the air around them changed. He felt colder for some reason. "you stay quiet unless I say so."

The gun kissed his head just the slightest bit more, digging into the metal, scraping it. He could feel the cold barrel, a shocking contrast against his own overheating from the stress frame.

"Hands behind your back and get on your knees."

"..." and slowly, oh so slowly, lowered himself to his knees. The gun never left his helm, steady in the other's grip.

"Good, good. Now, ground rules. You talk back or struggle, you get a bullet to the helm. You try to run, you get a bullet to the helm. I feel any signal from you going out, you get a bullet to the helm. I see any groundbridge opening that I didn't call for, you get a bullet to the helm quicker than your little autobot buddies can come to help. Are we clear?"

With each word, Sunstreaker blearily realised he was stuck. Any action would get him shot, which meant Sideswipe too would-

He nodded, silent. He couldn't risk it.

"Uuu, you listen to commands at least." The con sing-sang, far too happy for someone threatening to murder him. "...one word response allowed."

"....yes." Sunstreaker gritted out, despising the predicament he got himself in. Damned con.

"Oooh great! This is gonna be fun." He could imagine the grin splitting the con's faceplates behind him as he heard plates shifting, and then soft but firm pressure on his wrists alongside a 'click'.

Stasis cuffs. Fucking stasis cuffs. Where the fuck did this guy get those? Sunstreaker desperately thought as he tried moving his arms, only to discover that the cuffs were firm and secure, not allowing for even small movement.

Frag-it-all!

"Bluestreak reporting to the Trypticon. I'm back, I'm still all talk, and I've got a little welcome gift for you all..."

And as a Groundbridge appeared that he was sure he didn't request, besides frustration at his helplessness, only one thought echoed in his helm.

....This is gonna end terribly.

—

Eek! This is going so wonderfully! Bluestreak couldn't conceal the little squeal of delight as he led his prisoner (his prisoner! His own prisoner that he captured!) through the ship's hall, humming a merry tune with a skip to his step as he already imagined all the praise he'd get for capturing one of those pesky autobots he heard were causing so much trouble on this planet.

His coming to this planet had been a split-of-the-moment decision, really. Honestly, it could even be categorised as an accident! The thing is, he's been on a long, long assignment before this. Alongside the Combaticons, yes, those Combaticons, the Bruticus guys, he was stuck on the aft-crack edge of the Universe.

The day- er, time, really, they weren't in any particular solar system at the time, so there was no day-night cycle to follow, that started it all, started... well, normal. He doesn't even remember what he did in the morning! He's been walking through the halls, munching on some rust-sticks he managed to snatch from his latest batch (his batch, mind you. The fragging Combaticons wouldn't even let him eat his own creations! Frag them all) when he heard the communication's console come to life.

There, he was presented with a choice. See, their ship, The Harbinger, got cut off from almost all forms of communications except external incoming ones for a long, long time, after a rapid solar flare they didn't detect in time smashed right into them (and yes, before any of you ask, he did try to fix it. He did have an engineering degree after all! But the damage was extensive, it required tools and materials he didn't have access too, and which Swindle was too big of a weasel to buy on any of the colonies they stopped at. So only receiving communications it was, he supposes!). And seeing as the Combaticons weren't exactly the most liked team in the army, that meant that they've been graced with a terrifying radio silence for even longer than that. Before at least they could send out messages just in case. Now he was well and truly alone, stuck with them.

Wait- scratch that! He means they were all alone together! There. He may have hated the sons of fragging glitches- Easy, easy there Bluestreak. You're letting your emotions control you again.

Right. He should probably calm down. Where was he again?- Oh right! He was talking about his tragic backstory of getting to Earth. Anyways, so he had that choice. And seeing as there wasn't exactly much to do around there, and the last thing he wanted to do was to call any of them to report it to, he made the fantastic decision of answering the message himself.

Easy-peasy! Except, when he input the correct command to replay it-

"Commander Starscream, of the decepticon army."

Starscream? The last message from him they've gotten was of Megatron's death. What could've possibly happened to get another one so soon? Has something changed?

"Today, I come bearing tragic news of betrayal from one of our own."

Betrayal? Must be a traitor then. Bluestreak pursed his lipplates together, his doorwings hiking up on his back. Those were never fun announcements. He had to put a bullet through a traitor's helms far too many times to ever find them entertaining.

"One of our most trusted companions has decided to abandon our cause, one who you may very well know from his feats back on Cybertron."

Yada-yada-yada. He's been called a yapper more times in his life than he could count, and even he couldn't help the roll of optics at the unnecessary build up. What's the point? The drive? Just get on with it already! Traitors are all one and the same-

"Decepicon Barricade of the Intelligence Division is officially proclaimed a deserter and a traitor-"

Bluestreak's spark stilled.

"-having abandoned his duties on the same planet that took our previous Lord from us. Ever since coming here it's been one tragedy after the other, and the death of Megatron hit us all hard. That is exactly why I, Lord Starscream, promise to bring him, and every other traitor to justice! No more of the same mistakes Megatron has made. All Hail Lord Starscream! All Hail! All-"

Bluestreak wasn't listening anymore, though. He remembers gripping the console so tightly, his digits making indents in the metal. He remembers almost splitting the damn thing in half in his tries to locate the signal, his optics burning as he scrolled through lines and lines of code and commands, inputs and outputs, to just get this cursed piece of slag to listen to him!-

"̶W̶e̶l̶l̶ ̶w̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶d̶o̶ ̶w̶e̶ ̶h̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶h̶e̶r̶e̶,̶ ̶e̶y̶?̶ ̶L̶i̶t̶t̶l̶e̶ ̶B̶l̶u̶e̶y̶'̶s̶ ̶g̶o̶t̶ ̶a̶ ̶l̶i̶t̶t̶l̶e̶ ̶s̶i̶d̶e̶q̶u̶e̶s̶t̶?̶"

̶T̶h̶e̶ ̶v̶o̶i̶c̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶p̶l̶a̶g̶u̶e̶d̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶n̶i̶g̶h̶t̶m̶a̶r̶e̶s̶ ̶s̶p̶o̶k̶e̶ ̶b̶e̶h̶i̶n̶d̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶,̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶v̶i̶s̶o̶r̶ ̶g̶l̶i̶m̶m̶e̶r̶e̶d̶,̶ ̶f̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶r̶o̶t̶o̶r̶ ̶b̶l̶a̶d̶e̶s̶ ̶o̶n̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶b̶a̶c̶k̶ ̶m̶a̶d̶e̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶p̶l̶a̶t̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶c̶r̶a̶w̶l̶.

̶"̶S̶w̶e̶e̶t̶s̶p̶a̶r̶k̶,̶ ̶I̶ ̶t̶h̶o̶u̶g̶h̶t̶ ̶w̶e̶ ̶a̶g̶r̶e̶e̶d̶ ̶a̶ ̶l̶o̶n̶g̶ ̶t̶i̶m̶e̶ ̶a̶g̶o̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶a̶n̶y̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶f̶u̶t̶i̶l̶e̶ ̶h̶e̶r̶e̶.̶"

̶A̶s̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶t̶u̶r̶n̶e̶d̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶p̶o̶i̶n̶t̶e̶d̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶r̶i̶f̶l̶e̶ ̶a̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶o̶t̶h̶e̶r̶'̶s̶ ̶h̶e̶l̶m̶ ̶f̶a̶s̶t̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶n̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶c̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶r̶e̶a̶c̶t̶,̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶s̶o̶u̶n̶d̶s̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶e̶n̶e̶r̶g̶o̶n̶ ̶s̶p̶l̶a̶t̶t̶e̶r̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶h̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶n̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ ̶b̶e̶e̶n̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶e̶x̶c̶i̶t̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶n̶.

And then, before he knew it. He was standing c̶o̶v̶e̶r̶e̶d̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶e̶n̶e̶r̶g̶o̶n̶ in front of an escape pod, painstakingly inputting a set of coordinates carefully into the systems.

Barricade was alive. Barricade was not only alive, but apparently a traitor. He knew only one of those things was true.

One thing led to another, and the next thing he knew, he was here. On this... quite literal mudball, the thick substance coating him and covering the proof of his sins.

But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered except one thing. His brother.

He was going to find his brother. Bluestreak was going so find his brother and fragging save him, even if it was the last thing he'd ever do!-

"....why are you talking about yourself in third-person?"

"EEK!-" Bluestreak jumped, his doorwings standing high in alarm, his plating puffing up in panic as he whipped around to stare at the other. Frag, he kinda- forgot the yellow autobot was there. Back on the Harbinger he could usually talk his thoughts out loud as much as he wanted, not like anyone ever listened either- "Uh. Um. For The Readers of course!"

"The what?"

"..."

"..."

"...Are you... hearing voices in your head?-"

"MOVING ON-" He tugged the autobot along, huffing slightly. Honestly, who did this guy think he was! He was trying to get in the mood for his talk with Starscream hare, not address his slaggy coping mechanisms. Thank you very much. The Readers (aka, the, totally not voices in his head. Just a collective amalgamation of his own insecurities, wishes and dreams he imagined into a collective consciousness and dubbed 'The Readers' for simplicity's sake) always understood him.

No matter how (un)healthy it probably was. He was a dang engineer, not a psychologist! Don't talk to him about mental health!

So that's how they stayed in silence all the way until he met up with Starscteam. That was surely going to go well! He was gonna give that seeker a piece of his mind.

—

This was going terribly, Sunstreaker thought bleakly.

Bluestreak- yes, he finally figured out the other's name (completely ignoring he said it himself back when they were still on the ground- he was a little bit panicking back then, so sue him) -came in all guns blazing, agitated and clearly furious at Starscream for whatever reason. Honestly, he didn't even truly need a reason, the seeker was just that annoying in Sunstreaker's opinion. But still, he clearly had one.

And it was about Barricade, because of course it was. Barricade, who was his fucking brother. So, by connotation, Bluestreak had to be Barricade's brother. Younger, much younger, at least 5 solars. They also had to be close, incredibly so, seeing the kid's actions. He must've known him better than Sunstreaker could imagine.

He had to have realised Starscream was spewing straight bullshut out.

Except. A couple words in, a couple strings pulled, a sob story and sweet lies- and he was like a puppy next to his owner standing next to Starscream, soaking in every word, every lie, of how Barricade was apparently used and manipulated, how the autobots used a genuine sparkling to make him do it (false, you were talking about the same sparkling who you tried to kill you Primus-damned monster), how his choice was not truly his own (it was. From what he knew, it was entirely Barricade's, for the sake of his family)- and how they realised it all too late to take back the first message (lies. Soundwave was right there. Sunstreaker could bet his left hand the con could whip something up to stop the message's spread, or at least send an update).

Worst thing? For some inexplicable reason, Bluestreak believed it. Sunstreaker wasn't sure if it was naivety, genuine stupidity, or... inexperience.

How old was he again? Did Barricade ever mention his brother's age?

"So, of course, Bluestreak," Starscream ended, in that horribly scratchy voice of his. "I'm sure you understand us. But I also of course understand you." You don't, Sunstreaker wanted to scream. Not with that barely hidden disdain so clear in your optics. "I'm sure your brother will be delighted to know of your return once we rescue him."

"I know, I know! I'm so glad you see my point! See, I actually kinda started hating you a little bit after that 'traitor Barricade' broadcast, but now I kiiiinda see your point, so I think it'll be great if we work together and-" He babbled on, doorwings jumping excitedly on his back as he talked and talked, unaware of the grin splitting the other's lips, of the predatory shine in his gaze.

Sunstreaker shifted uncomfortably as he watched the kid preen under Starscream's praise, his own plating puffing at the phantom sensation of those claws digging into his shoulderpads.

That sick fuck, shameless in his actions. Did Bluestreak even realise the seeker was manipulating him? Just seconds before he was planning to kill the guy, but a few words of approval, praise and carefully constructed lines to weave him away from his initial thoughts, and he was lost.

Sunstreaker didn't like this one fucking bit. This kid tried to act tough, but moments like these proved how painfully naïve he truly was.

.....maybe the kid's idea to keep him close by wasn't that bad after all. Only so he could keep an eye on the guy better, of course.

—

"Na na naaa, na na-na naaa..." Bluestreak hummed quietly as he stood in the medbay (yes, stood. Once Knock Out heard about him coming, he immediately requested him in the medbay- except when seeing him still covered in mud, promptly prohibited him from actually sitting on any of the berths), the yellow autobot (Sunstreaker! What a fun name. Even if the other didn't seem all that sunny, ehe. See what he did there?-) meanwhile actually with his aft on the berth, as Knock Out rummaged around, muttering under his intake.

"Primus under our peds, what were they feeding you, if they even fed you at all, you lost so much weight going by your previous records!"

"Um- mister Knock Out, those hadn't been updated since before I finished school."

"Still. With your height and build? You're severely underweight! Oh you poor little thing, stay here, I'll get you an energon cube or two- Breakdown!-" The medic walked off, already telling his assistant what to do.

Allow for a little change of perspectives, but if you asked Sunstreaker, he could almost... relax right now. Sitting in the medbay, hearing a medic yell out orders... It reminded him of the base, with their medbay and Ratchet.

When was the last time they sat in the medbay like this? This... calmly. All the times he could remember were high-stress situations, which- yeah. For obvious reasons wouldn't be categorised as 'calm'.

He wasn't on Earth back then, but from what he heard, Strongarm's first days on Earth were calm like this. He wishes he could be there for her then, but, well. At least he was here now.

....well, he was most of the time. Currently he was stuck in the decepticon medbay. This whole situation made him confused, if he was being honest with himself for once. He was supposed to be a prisoner, but besides the stasis cuffs, he didn't feel like it. He walked semi-freely, just with a very energetic companion. Who was also his kidnapper who took him at gunpoint. See, an incredibly weird situation already.

And now he was, again, in the medbay. Almost like his own, but not. Because despite the names, the differences were glaring. Example, theirs was much lighter. More white rather than black. Seriously, whoever thought that black was a good color for a medbay?? With how much Knock Out talked about style, he'd expect the other to have corrected this already.

"Now shoo, shoo! Get me the energon for this sweetspark over here." Knock Out shooed Breakdown away while Bluestreak preened again under the pet name.

Sunstreaker decided he liked it this time much more than back in the main room.

"And you, said sweetspark," Knock Out turned back around to them, Bluestreak's doorwings jumping a little when his attention got directed straight at him. "What are you waiting for, huh? I've got showers in the back for my patients. Off you go for a good wash! The longer the mud dries, the harder it'll be to get out of your seams."

Now that seemed to determine Bluestreak like nothing else, the notion of having this... thick, ugly organic sludge stuck inside his joints straight out of a horror movie, if the way he jumped and with a quick 'yessir!' absolutely bolted it down into the direction Knock Out pointed to.

...who then sighed, suddenly looking much, much older than Sunstreaker thought.

"Primus, why have you forsaken another one..." He mumbled, before suddenly straightening and glancing towards Sunstreaker himself.

Maybe it was instinct, maybe it was leftover manners learned from... he actually didn't know where, certainly not his parents. But he straightened a little too.

"...and you are here too, I suppose. What are we even going to do with you?" Knock Out mused out loud. "You're one of the twins, aren't you? You've got a red brother. You've caused us quite some trouble, you see. You're one of the more violent ones."

"..." Sunstreaker stayed quiet. What could he say? It was true.

"Honestly, you should thank him once he comes back." Knock Out made a motion towards the door which led to the apparent showers, where now the sound of running water echoed. "Had he not insisted on tugging you along like a dog on a leash, you'd probably get beaten and thrown into the brig."

".....how nice of you to make me aware, then." Sunstreaker finally replied slowly, carefully. Testing the waters, if you will.

It seemed to work, by the way Knock Out threw his head back and laughed.

"Please, I'm a medic. If you suddenly flatlined from all the damage, I'd be the one burdened to save your aft. Bluestreak's doing me a favor too."

....Right, of course. Starscream was definitely already scheming some plans for him. Probably to try and 'exchange' him for Barricade again, like he did with the triplets before.

Honestly, Sunstreaker had to say, that little theatre Barricade put up about Steve's 'apparent' death probably saved the other's aft for a long upcoming time. At least now Screamer wouldn't even think about him twice as he did about his partner.

Barricade was strikingly smart when he wanted to be, Sunstreaker could admit facts when he saw them. Too bad most days he was too busy limping around to actually do much.

"Well, you seem joyful to do your job."

"I'm a medic, boyo. I save people when needed. But there's no joy greater than not needing to save anyone in the first place."

...huh. He... never thought about it that way. He wonders if Ratchet or Jolt feels the same, or if it's a Knock Out exclusive thought.

It does seem more like a medic thing though.

"...You know," the other began again, making Sunstreaker glance back at him. But he wasn't looking back this time. Knock Out was turned to the door at the end, staring in silence. "...this isn't a good place for him."

"....I noticed." Hard not to. Not with Starscream's mere presence practically already being a bad omen for the younger.

He can already imagine it. Bluestreak used to get Barricade back, only then for Starscream to kill them both. He wouldn't put it past the seeker to do such a thing.

Not that he was concerned for the other, of course. He was simply... worried for Barricade himself. For all of Bluestreak's faults, he did do it all for his brother. Sunstreaker could understand that much, the will to do anything for your sibling.

"How is he doing?" Knock out spoke after a moment again.

"Hm?"

"Barricade, I mean. The kid too" Ah. Yeah, no wonder the other asked. It's been a while. "I've heard about Steve... Poor unfortunate spark." Right. Starscream wasn't the only con convinced of the vehicon's supposed death.

"...he's doing alright." Keep it short, steady, clam. Steve is basically under a poor version of witness protection, he can't fuck that up for him. "...Miata helps. And the kid made friends. There's been some situations, but all always ended well. They're... happy."

"Ah." Knock Out breathed softly, his posture loosening a fraction. "...I'm glad." His voice was somehow softer when he spoke.

...maybe he should stop sympathising with the enemy so much.

Breakdown's return and Bluestreak's subsequent coming out from the shower certainly helped to take his mind off the previous thing. He could see more details now, like for example how his plating was fully in different shades of gray with red accents, no blue anywhere in sight. How, finally without the half-visor covering his face, his optics were two distinct shades, the blue he saw, and deep, crimson, decepticon red. How he bore twin decepticon insignias on his doorwings, and how the purple clashed with all his other paint.

A quick, passing thought traitorously said he'd look much, much better with bright red, softer autobot ones instead. Sunstreaker shook his head and dispelled it as quickly as it came.

Besides, he had better things to focus on when the kid plopped shamelessly himself right beside him, already all sunny and smiling as he quickly gulped the presented cube down.

What were they feeding you, if they fed you at all. Knock Out's earlier words came back. Sunstreaker tried not to dwell on it too much.

Because if he did, he'd only get reminded of Strongarm again. And he really didn't like the similarities between the two.

So he did his damn best to ignore them, and most of this illogical, confusing shit happening around him. And especially his own emotions. He was a master at that.

Besides, Bluestreak finished quickly (he ate like a starving man. Did they feed him at all echoed in his mind uncomfortably-) and off again they went, him being tugged around like a dog while Bluestreak played the role of happy go-lucky owner.

(And if Knock Out whispered a quiet 'keep an eye out on him' as they walked out, Sunstreaker could pretend it was a trick of his audials, that he hadn't heard it over Bluestreak's already flowing babble.)

(If he did move closer to the other, that was his and his thing only.)

—

"See, so here's the brig entrance, that's where you'd normally stay but I kinda always get what I want around here- not to brag or anything but I am one of the best gunners the 'cons ever had yanno, I'm basically only a couple ranks under Starscream himself, and he's the freaking air commander! Technically rank-wise I'm even above Barricade, but shhh, don't tell him that, he was always salty he didn't get a promotion despite doing so much."

"Really? You seem pretty young for such a high position." Bluestreak was doing a real good job of ignoring the concern in the autobot's voice. Really, it was fine.

"I know! People keep telling me that, but really, it's not that big. I'm just a good shot on the battlefield. Anyways, moving on! That's the storage area, before I came here I was on the Harbinger with the Combaticons- they were a combiner team, and a real pain to deal with, ugh, I hated them all, especially Blast Off, that coward- but ay going back, Harbinger was the exact same model as the Trypticon, so both storage areas overlap basically to a T! Sou just by knowing the other ship's layout, I know this one too! Unfortunately, besides room and wall placement some things are different, like for example the medical wing and lab sections are swapped, because with such a big crew this ship needs the bigger room for medical and with no scienting on board the lab's basically useless, while Harbinger had a smaller crew of basically just the Combaticons and me, so they could spare the smaller room for medical and the bigger for a lab! Because Vortex is a sadistic freak and he kept trying to make drugs that hurt more while not actually damaging your systems. Brrr," his plating shook at just the reminder of those cursed things. He was strapped down on a slab far too many times with them coursing through his lines to ever forget the feeling. "would not recommend it."

Seriously, the autobot was doing a poor, poor job at pretending not to be concerned. Ugh, if he wanted to have conflicting emotions, he could do it in private at least!

"And I mean like okaaaay, technically they weren't drugs, as Vortex always made sure to let me know they're technically not considered drugs, 'cause they're 'non-addictive' or whatever, so your systems can't get used to their presence and build up a tolerance, but like c'mon! Weird-aft liquid you pump into people that stimulates your insides? Basically drugs, am I rite?"

Honestly, if you asked Bluestreak on a deeper level, despite his own words, he was really glad the concoctions weren't drugs.

He really didn't wanna explain to bots why his optics would turn purple on top of already being fragged up enough. The fact that his pain receptors got fried to the point where he barely felt any pain anymore was enough as it is.

"...it still doesn't sound very nice. Drugs or not, stimulants have a bad habit of destroying you either way."

....Right, Bluestreak glanced at the autobot, noting the purple in his optics. He was probably the last person to be unaware of a drug's side effects.

"...yea. Guess you're right." Bluestreak agreed, glancing back away. That was awkwardddd. Great going Bluey.

"...Even still, you know," Sunstreaker finally said after a moment, voice carefully leveled, as if he was scared of startling a wild animal instead of talking to a fellow adult Cybertronian, "this all sounds... way too out of my league. Going dangerously into 'top secret stuff' category." Bluestreak should feel offended that the other talked to him like he was talking to a sparkling, but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to be. Huh, weird. Vortex always said he was a big bot now. Age and adulthood were two different things, right?

"Why are you telling me this?"

At that, Bluestreak actually stopped, the autobot pausing next to him. He... huh, he was talking about a lot of confidential stuff on here, wasn't he? But on the other servo, not like the Combaticons and anything they did would prove useful anymore.

T̶h̶e̶i̶r̶ ̶g̶r̶a̶y̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶b̶o̶d̶i̶e̶s̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶v̶i̶s̶i̶t̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶n̶i̶g̶h̶t̶m̶a̶r̶e̶s̶,̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶l̶i̶k̶e̶ ̶m̶a̶n̶y̶ ̶o̶t̶h̶e̶r̶s̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶.̶ ̶T̶h̶e̶r̶e̶ ̶w̶e̶r̶e̶ ̶k̶i̶l̶l̶s̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶r̶e̶g̶r̶e̶t̶t̶e̶d̶,̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶r̶e̶ ̶w̶e̶r̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶o̶s̶e̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶.

̶T̶h̶e̶m̶?̶ ̶H̶e̶ ̶c̶o̶u̶l̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶f̶e̶e̶l̶ ̶a̶n̶y̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶b̶u̶t̶ ̶s̶i̶c̶k̶ ̶g̶r̶a̶t̶i̶t̶u̶d̶e̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶r̶e̶m̶e̶m̶b̶e̶r̶e̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶i̶r̶ ̶o̶f̶f̶l̶i̶n̶e̶ ̶o̶p̶t̶i̶c̶s̶.

And the yellow bot was kinda just there, not really doing anything. Just listening to him, as he talked, babbled, maybe even vented (did that count as venting? Maybe.) He didn't ask him about these things, didn't pry, so why was Bluestreak telling him all this?

"....because you actually listen, I guess." He finally shrugged, resuming his walk. "....For all my talking, I don't really remember the last time I felt this heard."

—

Well, after that whole embarrassing ordeal, back to walking they went. Bluestreak rambled on and on about some kind of pre-war Cybertronian game- something about 'cubes' and 'flying', honestly, Sunstreaker neither understood what the other was talking about, nor what the apparent hype was about. The game sounded really stupid and had more holes in the rules than he probably had unread notifications from his teammates.

When he said so as much, he's pretty sure he offended Bluestreak on a personal level, if the angry mutterings and twitching doorwings were an indication.

...whoops.

"-really, no taste whatsoever, humf- Oh!" Bluestreak suddenly stopped being angry as he noticed a particular door. It was. Well, a door. Nothing really that interesting about it. Maybe except a little plaque on the doors themselves, with... something written on it. Sunstreaker squinted his optics, but for the life of him, couldn't see what was written, he was just too far.

How the fuck did Bluestreak see it then?-

"-this has to be the place Knock Out mentioned!"

"Mentione- huh?"

"Yeah, back at the medbay, while I was drinking and you seemed lost in thought, he mentioned something about a 'holoform recreation centre' here. Said that there's something inside I'd probably like to see, I dunno what thou. Let's go there!"

"Wai-" But alas, there was no arguing with Bluestreak once the kid made up his mind. One hand caught Sunstreaker's arm and off they both went into the... apparent holoform room on the ship? Wasn't this the one where Barricade mentioned he stole a 40inch TV for?-

Then the door opened before them, and his focus yet again changed to see... an incredibly bare room, with one, a couch with a blanket on top, what appeared to be a dog rug, a small coffee table with exactly a single chair standing by it, and a small cabinet with the infamous stolen TV on top.

.....It all looked incredibly pathetic, if you asked him..

"...wow, this is really sad." Seems like even Bluestreak realised the poor quality of their reality. "...oh well, I still kinda wanna see whatever it is that Knock Out said I'd like- Would be helpful if he gave me more hints... but eh, I'll manage!"

And that was hoe Sunstreaker found himself instructing the kid on holoforms. Because apparently, the other not only never used one, but didn't actually know what humans looked like.

...which was really hard to fix with his hands cuffed behind his back.

"Oh for frag's sake-" Sunstreaker rolled his optics to the heavens after another failed attempt at having Bluestreak connect to the human internet. "If only I had a free hand, I'd show you it all myself!"

"Hand?"

"Servo. Free servo- Just." Sunstreaker took a deep breath, reminding himself getting angry at Bluestreak was like getting angry at a puppy. "...please free my servos. I promise not to shoot you or anything."

"Hmm... Well, you promised!" And he went and... actually took his stasis cuffs off. Except then he went and put something on the back of Sunstreaker's neck, making his whole plating crawl-

And a pop-up to appear, signaling the disabling of all his weaponry systems. Huh, at least there's that, he supposes. But still, nothing stopping him from going and trying to strangle the other or something.

"Aaand... there! Servos free, but like, I couldn't exactly let you go around freely- so a little block on your weapons should work instead!" He said, within perfect grabbing distance to, say, slam his head into the wall, if Sunstreaker was any more desperate, or less of a person than he already was.

So he just blinked, looking at his free hands, and then up at Bluestreak.

"...someone needs to teach you about safety and stranger-danger."

"Stranger-what?-"

"No matter. Just- come on, I'll show you."

Famous last words, which were then promptly followed by around 30 minutes scrolling through human social media to give Bluestreak a feel of what he's supposed to create- and then another 30 getting his holomatter generator to actually work.

And then after a literal hour, when when the damned thing finally worked-

"...why do you look like a girl?" Sunstreaker asked the other from his own holoform, making Bluestreak turn back and tilt his head to the side just like a dog would.

"What's a girl?"

...yeah, they had a lot of work to do.

—

After another long talk which- Sunstreaker didn't even care how much that one took, all he cared about was that the other finally had some basic human knowledge in his head -they finally went and moved onto the couch.

Yes, they talked sitting on their alt modes' hoods. Why? Why the fuck not. Bluestreak needed a new alt mode now anyways, so might as well have the conversation that moved from gender, to politics, to languages, and finally to cars, on top of the actual cars.

Not that he knew they would end up on that. With Bluestreak, topics change faster than Sideswipe cooks and then eats a meal meant for a family of 5 by himself.

So really fucking fast.

But now as he finally relaxed on the plush surface (well, the couch was kinda hard, but after sitting on straight metal for so long this felt like heaven), he regretted not doing it faster.

Especially as he noticed the colorful blanket...

"...Hm. Looks like Cade's work."

"Hu?" Bluestreak glanced up at him from his place next to him, confused. "What?"

"The blanket I mean. Seems crocheted. Your brother really took up crocheting in his free time, he's always making something."

"He did?" Bluestreak didn't even bother with the obvious question of 'what's crocheting', in order to take a closer look at the blanket with a newfound appreciation. "...he's never done anything similar back on Cybertron."

"Well, not like we had anything like this back there." Sunstreaker snorted.

"Also true. Still..." Bluestreak wondered out loud as he took the blanket and carefully wrapped it around himself. "...still, somehow I can see him making this."

"Hey, if it works. At least he wasn't bored. Like us right now." Because after their long talk, and the discovery of the blanket, which, clearly, was the thing Knock Out wanted Bluestreak to find, they... kind of ran out of things to do. Well, of course, Bluestreak could always talk, Sunstreker didn't doubt the kid could go on and on for hours. But maybe they should try something else instead.

"...we can... watch movies?" Bluestreak said hopefully glancing at the TV, all snuggled in the blanket.

"..." Well, did they have any better ideas now? Eh, not really. "...you know what, hell yeah."

But then he realised that most of his favourite films probably weren't appropriate for someone with Bluestreak's mentality.

So, of course, he put on Disney. Big Hero 6 was one of his all time favourites anyways, might as well go along with it. He realised too late that, maybe, showing the film about the kid with a dead older brother to the kid searching for his own older brother may have not been a good idea.

Eh, Bluestreak didn't have english downloaded yet anyways, which was a little blessing where he could straight up bullshit half the movie's plot and swiftly omit Tadashi's death.

It did cause the kid to ask him about every single thing happening on screen almost constantly instead. Primus thank you for him already having experience with an annoying younger brother that he could fall back on right now.

So like that, they watched the first movie, which the kid loved by the way, so that was a win in Sunstreaker's book. So much so, that he wanted another one. And why would Sunstreaker say no?

Some older 2D animated one, Prince of Egygia or whatever the country's name was, got put on next. Then, once the kid said he preferred the first movie's 3D style more (even if the humans did look a bit bug-like, like he pointed out making Sunstreaker wheeze), he put on Merida the Brave, a movie which he watched obsessively just for the ginger jokes about his brother to continue.

Except he watched the movie so many times he knew what would happen by heart. At this point, it was like repeating the same thing over and over again in that one insanity question or whatever.

His datapad was in his hands before he even realised what he was doing. He already used it to show the kid the internet, so why was he hesitating now? He loves drawing, painting, creating. Why suddenly couldn't he decide what to do?

...hm. Maybe his subconsciousness was trying to tell him something. So with that little nudge, he scrolled through his works quickly, searching for one particular one- there.

A drawing of most of the team's holos, including Barricade and the family, but not only. He wasn't sure why he chose this exact one, he had many, many more to choose from.

He stared at the picture quietly, suddenly noting the silence in the room besides the movie playing.

Bluestreak was quiet, staring at his datapad intently. Which was already making alarm bells go off in Sunstreaker's head, because even after knowing him for barely 5 hours, the kid never shut up.

So he looked closer, at him, at the drawing. It was only the holoforms, he doubted the kid could recognise anyone from just there alone. Moreover, the drawing was filled with details so small, Bluestreak would never be able to see it clearly from his space, unless he'd lean over and look closer.

...Unless....

"...you can recognise Cade's holo from just a drawing?" He raised an eyebrow, actually quite impressed, at both the perceptiveness and the sheer strength of Bluestreak's eyesight.

"I mean... yeah, I guess." Bluestreak replied carefully, slowly. He glanced back at him for a second before moving back to the picture, then carefully reached his hand to zoom in right on Barricade of all people.

Sunstreaker could relate, to know one's family no matter what depiction.

"You pay a great attention to details, don't you?" Bluestreak said, tone finally lighter. "...it's the optics. You noticed they aren't pure red, but more uh.... purplish, pinkish shade. Choose the exact one they are..."

"....hard not to. Never saw that color before."

"Ph, yeah, for good reason. Honestly, we never even knew why they turned out like that after he changed them. But I guess he did have his optics replaced quite a couple of times, both lens and the systems themselves even once, probably something with that."

"Huh, never knew replacing them can cause side effects later on... were you the same?"

"Me? Naaah, for me, my right optic was always this weird darker hue. The guy who changed mine didn't even wanna touch it, apparently he said it was caused by blunt-force trauma to my helm while I was still developing in my carrier's spark chamber-" ouch. Ow. That was... yeah, ow. "-and he wasn't used to such weird mutations or whatever and straight up refused to work on it..."

"...Wait, so, your optics weren't both dark blue?"

"Nope. Left one was a normal light shade, only the right one was weird. Even now I couldn't do much about it, so... guess I'm just stuck with weird colors forever."

"....what do I know about that..." Sunstreaker sighed, letting his head fall back on the couch. Primus, his life was an even bigger joke than he thought at the beginning.

A moment passed. Really, he shouldn't trust the kid with his datapad. There was info on there which could compromise the entire autobot operation on Earth. He didn't know why he trusted the other so much.

"So..." Said other appeared to have finally made up his mind about staying quiet, gently nudging him in the arm to get his attention.

"....weird dual-colored optics club?" The kid smiled unsure, hand raised and balled like for a fist bump.

Sunstreaker stared blankly at him, at his outstretched fist, then snorted, the absurdity of the situation boiling over.

"Eh, might as well. Not like I've got anything better to do about mine." He declared as he raised his own hand back and bumped their fists together.

"Palalalalala!"

"....You really need to stop doing that after each fistbump."

"Nuh-uh."

"Fuck you mean 'nuh-uh'-"

—

The kid was currently making an expression more avid to the surprised pikachu meme Sideswipe showed him once more than anything else, staring transfixed at the screen.

"Oh my gosh, it's called Frozen because she freezes solid! This is amazing!"

It was all so absurd, Sunstreaker couldn't help but throw his head back and laugh.

—

It was a couple hours later now. They not only had finished both the Frozen movies, but had the How To Train Your Dragon trilogy checked out too. If you asked him, Sunstreaker felt pretty good about himself. It was easier to forget about the exact circumstances surrounding this whole thing when it was just them both chilling like this.

Speaking of the other...

"So, what did you think of this one, kid? ....kid?" Sunstreaker glanced over at the mech still leaning heavily on him-

Only to find him fast asleep, head resting on his shoulder, legs tucked in as he snored quietly.

...

Technically, he could try running now. But somehow, as he quietly took the crocheted blanket and tucked it closer around Bluestreak, he found himself lacking both the energy and will to do so.

Obviously, only because he knew he was no match against a ship full of vehicons. Only that.

—

Morning came and went. He took his pills before the kid put his cuffs back, so that was great (he didn't think he could do this off his meds). Bluestreak talked, babbled, spoke, all that jazz that Sunstreaker managed to get used to in the short timespan they spent together. It was eerily similar to how he got used to Sideswipe's endless ramblings, his talent of listening with one ear and throwing in comments whenever necessary perfectly useful now.

And yes, he tried to ignore the uncomfortable similarity between Bluestreak and his brother. He didn't need any more reminders of who he missed right now, no matter how... casual everything appeared right now.

But still, an uncomfortable feeling wouldn't leave him. This was the beginning of his second day here at the Trypticon. And if the way Starscream glared at them from all the way across the hallway as they left with their morning energon, it appeared he wasn't happy.

Primus help them.

"So you're from Alithex?"

Sunstreaker was thrown out of his musings as Bluestreak said this, glancing at the other and noting his curious look. Wow, they've really changed topics.

"Yeah, born and raised."

"Whoa, I've never been there. Really, I've only ever been in Praxus and Iacon..."

"Praxus?"

Ouch. That one must've hurt.

Praxus, also known as the City and Policy of Praxus, was a neutral ground which refused to take sides at the beginning of the war.

It resulted in Megatron storming it with his army of seekers and razing the city to the ground. "The Fall of Praxus" it was dubbed, for not a single building has been left standing, much less the citizens of the once proud city. He'd heard stories from those who got sent to search the ruins after the destruction, after the decepticons finally left.

Heard the tales of horror, of bots horrifically melted alive from the heat of the bombs, of dried energon puddles surrounding piles of rubble, of frames spewn around from impact of a fall.

Of not a single living spark left to tell the tale.

It was one of the worst, if possibly not the worst thing, that the decepticons did back on Cybertron. Everything else could at least be classified as warfare. This though? This was a massacre. A planned and carried out genocide of an unaligned, unarmed city full of civillains.

Any surviving Praxians that weren't at the city for whatever reason during the time of its destruction promptly joined in with the Autobot forces. He's pretty sure he even heard that there was a Smokescreen back on Cybertron who was from there, staying in Iacon during the tragic day before joining in with the new Prime.

And from what he understood, Bluestreak was also from that city. Why in the actual fuck was he with the decepticons then?

Maybe he wasn't Praxian and only visited the city? Barricade never mentioned anything regarding Praxus after all, only Kaon.

"You're from Praxus?"

"Yep." Welp, there go his theories. "I was born and lived my younglinghood there, in the foster system. Bounced a couple homes, but people weren't... all that enthusiastic about my energy. Then, one random day, I was taken and transported aaaaall the way over to Iacon- where it turned out, I had a brother! Who I had no idea about before! Well, half-brother technically, but shush, we're brothers alright. That's how I met Barricade when he was 15 and I 7. He ended up in the foster system too, and they were checking to see if he had any living relatives via CNA testing- But well, turns out, I was the only match! So they put us together, and thank Primus they did. I can't imagine my life without him now!"

That... actually explained a whole lot. Barricade and Bluestreak were brothers with one shared parent, and who met in the, quite frankly, terrible Cybertronian foster system. From the lack of any known parental figures, Barricade must've aged out and then took custody of Bluestreak, that'd explain their close bond, all the 'I know him better than anyone' stuff.

But that still didn't explain why he never mentioned his little brother at all, if they were so close. That one randomly seen picture doesn't count, it was an accident anybot even saw it in the first place.

So why? ...unless...

"But anyways-" But of course, as always, before he could continue his trail of thought, there Bluestreak was already thinking of another. "-so that's me! Well, I guess not all. After that, we lived some time in Iacon together, which uh.... bad times honestly, wouldn't recommend. Cade was thinking 'bout moving actually, before the whole war thing. Praxus was our destination, because we were already kiiinda living there at that time, actually that's where I spent my final year of school and wrote my Colosses! Meanwhile he was technically only there for some kind of enforcer exchange program, but took me with him because he had no one to leave me with- but it went perfectly for us. But then.... well. He had to go back to Iacon because of all the mayhem the rebels were causing, leaving me alone for literally just a couple anocycles! Except..."

Suddenly, his whole posture changed. His doorwings sagged, his plating clamped down tightly around his body. Hisoptics seemed to lose some of their shine.

"...the fall of Praxus happened."

Sunstreaker stilled, his breath catching in his throat. He whipped around to stare at Bluestreak, horror etched in his face.

"...You- You were there?" But that's impossible. There were no survivors left. He knows, he heard himself the top command wallow as they stared at the lists of deceased.

"Yeah." Bluestreak replied, uncharacteristically flat and quiet. "...I was the only survivor."

Oh God.

"Then why in the actual fuck are you here." Sunstreaker blurted out before he could stop himself. "Why are you with the decepticons."

Bluestreak's doorwings jumped, and he raised his head up at him, seeming- confused. How could he be confused?

"What?" He said, genuinely, honest to fucking Primus, confused. "...why wouldn't I be?"

Sunstreaker actually stopped and laughed, a breathless, choked sound from the sheer stupidity of this situation.

"Why- You cannot be serious."

"I am very serious." Bluestreak said defensively, also stopping.

"Well, kinda hard to believe it when you claim there's no reason for you to be with the same guys who destroyed your fucking home."

Bluestreak looked at him. Stared. And then- laughed.

Bluestreak laughed, first a chuckle, and then a deep, rumbling sound (so alike to Barricade's-) that echoed through the halls.

It sounded hysteric at some point. Sunstreaker felt slight chills go down his back, and he could very much relate to all the vehicons rapidly leaving their immediate vicinity as the sound reached them.

"Destroyed my- Haaaaaah!" Bluestreak had to prop himself up by one of the walls to not fall over in his laughter. "Whoooaaa, that's a good one. Is this the propaganda they've been telling you over at the other side?"

"Propa- No, Blustreak- this is the fucking truth. I saw the records, we even sent out rescue teams after the news reached us-"

"Stop it, stop- stop that. The autobots were the ones who destroyed my city, the fragging Prime's forces did it-"

"-I've heard stories from those who were there, there was nothing but destruction and rubble all around-"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up stop lying-"

"-there was only death to go around! They were horrified at the sight, Optimus couldn't believe that he'd seen-"

"SHUT UP! DON'T YOU DARE TALK ABOUT HIM LIKE HE CARES!"

Their little match of yelling over one another got cut short as Sunstreak's next words died in his throat. Bluestreak was looking right at him, fury, rage, pain deeply etched into his expression.

"You don't know anything." Bluestreak was speaking slowly, carefully, each word filled with deep anger. "You don't get to tell me the Prime cares."

"But he does." He tried, his voice desperate. "He cares so deeply. I know it better than anyone."

"Then you're even stupider than listening to his lies make you." Bluestreak sneered, his doorwings hooking up high, twitching angrily.

Sunstreaker wondered if this was exactly how he looked like before Optimus took him under his wing.

"...Bluey-"

"Don't. Shut up, you don't get to call me that anymore." No, no- fuck, everything was going wrong. This whole situation went into so many wrong turns, he said so many wrong things- "If you don't believe me then- Then I'll fragging prove it to you."

Before he could react, Bluestreak caught him by the arm and harshly pulled him to walk beside him, making Sunstreaker almost lose his balance.

Momentarily, Bluestreak slowed, glancing at him with a flash of concern- before it was as if he remembered what was happening and his expression hardened again, turning his head away as he led Sunstreaker deeper into the ship. To 'prove' his version of the Praxus events somehow.

How did Sunstreaker manage to fuck this up so badly in such a short amount of time?

—

"There, we're here." Bluestreak tugged Sun- No, the autobot. He shouldn't get attached to the enemy (isn't it what you did already?) deeper into the room before finally letting go as he himself walked over to the console.

"Watch and behold as I prove your precious little Prime's lies once and for all."

Deeply, silently, Bluestreak hoped that when S̶u̶n̶s̶t̶r̶e̶a̶k̶e̶r̶ the other saw the truth, he'd switch sides to still be with him, even after they rescued his brother.

(His brother's handmade blanket sat heavily in his subspace, seemingly weighing much, much more than it did in the morning. He wonders why that is.)

"Just a... couple of clicks..." He logged in, the entry screen lighting up with his personal information as he scrolled through the countless files of the decepticons' extended database.

All Hail Starscream? Yea, more like All Hail Soundwave for keeping everything neatly organized, Bluestreak thought to himself as with a couple of clicks, he was already there.

The Praxus entry, dated to just a couple of groons after the attack itself. Shortly after he himself was found, extracted from under the rubble, given to his brother to comfort as they questioned him. Honestly, he knew this file like the back of his hand. He basically wrote the thing! Er, well, more like, the information he supplied filled it.

He never... actually opened the file before. He wanted to, a couple of times. But every time, he'd chicken out at the last moment.

He just couldn't do it. Couldn't get reminded of that terrible day again.

"And..." with a heavy sigh and an even heavier spark, Bluestreak finally clicked the file open after hearing Sunstreaker take a couple of steps closer why did the other's presence make him feel so reassured- "...there."

Praxus: A tragedy carried out by the Prime's forces, close to no recorded survivors. The forces entered the city at-

Bluestreak stared at the screen, his spark beating so loud he could hear it in his audials. His hands clamped down on the console to hide their shakiness, but he couldn't stop his ragged, rapid venting.

The times didn't match.

The times didn't match.

He was there, he remembers better than anyone when he heard the first swish of a falling bomb. When the first explosion shook the ground. When the rubble fell, when energon splattered on the ground as bots got crushed to death before his very optics. When the sickening creaks of their frames stuck underneath wept as he ran past, their last dying vents monumental despite the chaos around him. When the screams of terror and pain reached his audials, when he looked terrified as everything burned all around him.

When the flightframes around him laughed as they dropped not only bombs, but unlucky bots. When he saw a poor innocent fall right in front of him, the impact ripping their frame apart, energon splattering on him as he looked into their graying optics. He heard them laughing, yelling out numbers to each other. Whoever dropped more got free drinks!

He could never quite get that image out of his helm.

He remembered the exact time of it all. When he ran back into the academy, halls vacant (why were they vacant? Where was everyone? Why did nobot go there for shelter too?-), when he ran down into the cellar. It was stupid of him, now that he thinks about it. One unlucky bomb and it all would've fallen right on top of him.

But it didn't. He laid there, curled up into a tight ball, as screams rang all around him, as the foundations shook. As explosions echoed through his little hiding place, miraculously missing him.

He remembered it. He still heard the screams when he closed his optics to recharge, when the air became too quiet. It's why he always talked.

Praxus was so quiet after the fall. So still, so silent, so dead. When it was silent, he was reminded of those first steps he took out of his hiding place, the screams of earlier events still echoing in his audials, making them ring painfully as the first calls of rescue reached him.

But if he talked and talked and talked, he could drive that terrible silence away. He could pretend it all never happened, he was still living in their tiny shared apartment with his brother, finally free of the Prime's grasp for once in their lives, and he was working on getting good grades to get a good job to get them both even safer, and Barricade was there to burn the kitchen again trying to make energon goodies that didn't even require the use of an over-

When he talked, he could drive all those bad, terrible, no-good thoughts away. The thoughts of that bad, terrible, no-good time.

And he could swear on Primus and Unicron both whenever they were out there in the Galaxy, that the times didn't match to what he remembered.

No. No no no- It had to be a mistake. Obviously, the decepticons wouldn't commit such a grave error. They were there when he got saved! He told them the exact times as he sat on Barricade's lap, his brother more parent than a sibling in that moment. He remembers someone even taking notes of his account.

They would never make such an error.

So he dug deeper. Surely there was something else. He was an engineer by spark, he knew how machines worked. Code wasn't his favourite work, but he could bend it to his will when needed.

Command here, a password there. A scan of his IC to prove his identity. Please, please. This couldn't be-

Restricted access.

No.

He input his information again, only for a red cross to flash again.

The following information is strictly prohibited, your pass is too low to view the following file.

...

He was the sole survivor of the Praxus massacre, only bot alive to ever be found within the ruins. If there was anybot out there deserving access to the full field report, it was him.

Slowly, numbly, Bluestreak reached into his subspace. Slowly, he took out something that made even Sunstreaker next to him vent in surprise.

A bloodied decepticon insignia, the crusted energon flaking as he held the plate.

He spent so long on the Harbinger. He was getting tired, tired, tired- He wanted out.

When the message of his brother's not only continued existence, but apparent betrayal reached them, there was nothing stopping him from going to save him.

And as he stood there above the final corpse, he found himself splitting a grin not unlike Vortex's own one every time the other tormented him as he tore the other's insignia out his cooling chestplates, both identity chips embedded within along with it.

He wasn't one of the best shots the decepticons ever had for nothing.

Quietly, silently, so unlike him, he presented the insignia forward, onto the scanner, a recorded voice clip already running out his external speakers.

"Vortex of the Combaticons reporting in, lemme in ya useless pile of scrap."

A moment passed, the terminal analysing both the voice and the insignia presented. And then-

"Welcome, Captain Vortex."

Finally, the encrypted glyphs on the screen began converting into standard Cybertronian, Bluestreak's doorwings hanging lower and lower with each word he read just as fast as he talked.

Operation: Praxus

Signed out on Sentinel Prime's orders, carried out via Megatron's-

Bluestreak's vents hitched.

-seekers under the command of Starscream.

Objective: Complete and total annihilation of Praxus and its population, with one notable exception.

He scrolled down. He wished he hadn't.

Bluestreak's spark lurched.

A picture of his own younger face, smiling into the camera, stared back. He remembered it well, Barricade, after coming in place of a parent, had taken it, having never looked so proud of him before. It's his post-colossuses picture, taken right after he knew full well he aced all his exams. He had to, if he ever wanted to get them both a better house with better security and anything and everything as long as it was away from the Prime's grasp.

It was supposed to be a happy memory, Bluestreak thought desperately, gripping the console's edge as he stared at the holographic screen helplessly. He worked so hard he even managed to jump a whole class year just to be able to write them before everything shut down because of the war!

Sunstreaker besides him stood frozen, mouth hanging agape. He was catching up with him.

He didn't want to continue, but it's as if his servo moved on his own to scroll lower-

Orders: Make sure this specific one survives. He's Sentinel's favourite toy's little brother. He could be proven useful at a later date.

Let him believe the autobots are responsible, anyone who even insinuates otherwise is to be executed. Make sure he spreads the message of terror wide into the army, grows their fear and hatred.

Carry this all out at stardown.

Signed, Megatron

Bluestreak stared and stared and stared. His optics burned. Spread the message of terror.

Spread the message of terror.

He was a Primus damned pawn to them all.

"...spread the message... of terror..." He whispered, staring numbly at the screen.

Everything he's done over the years. Every autobot life he took, every traitor he executed. Every painful lesson under the combaticons, every plan how to take the cursed Prime pretending to be a hero down.

All for nothing.

"I was nothing but a pawn to them." Still, saying it out loud, even a broken whisper, made it all so painfully real.

Anger. Bluestreak felt anger ignite deep in his very spark like an inferno, his circuits buzzing with power as he screamed raw, his fist tearing through the console's mainframe before he even realised what he's done.

"I WAS NOTHING BUT A FRAGGING PAWN!" He wailed, loud and raw, to no bot, to himself, to Sunstreaker perhaps, not even he knew. All he knew is that he was angry and he didn't know how to deal with it.

"I KILLED FOR THEM!" Before now, he thought he grew desensitized to death after all this time. Somehow, knowing he was killing innocents all along, ripped the scab open and poured acid onto it instead. "I KILLED MY INNOCENCE FOR HIM AND FOR WHAT."

He dug his fist deeper, the screen flickering before abruptly turning off, leaving them both in both silence and darkness. With the screen so did Bluestreak's own anger begin flickering out, replaced by tears blurring his vision as with one last desperate shout he tore his fist out- energon dripping from the many cuts now covering his servo- and! and...

...and felt his knees buckle under him as he fell forward, his forehead pressing against the terminal as cold tears streamed down his faceplates.

"...I was..." He choked again, tears dripping freely. "...I was used..."

He took a deep, shaky in-vent. The anger was coming back, stronger, more explosive, the previous moment of quiet like the calm before the storm.

"I was used." He said again, gritting his denta. Slowly, he got up on shaky peds, staggering before catching the console and maintaining a stable balance.

He was used by everyone around him, he was used Megatron, he was used by Starscream-

...

Oh. He could do something about at least one of those.

With a silent resolve, he unsubspaced his rifle, quickly checking his ammunition. Full as always. He never left himself defenseless, the lesson drilled into him by Barricade and Vortex alike, one with reassurance and wisdom, the other with pain and suffering.

He gripped the handle tighter. He took another in-vent. Then let out an ex-vent.

Finally, he looked up at Sunstreaker, a cold rage blazing behind his optics.

"...I'm gonna fucking kill him."

"Bluestreak no-"

He didn't listen. He sprung out, shoving the doors open and running into the hallway, his vision blurred with tears and sheer rage alike.

"I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL HIM!"

There were vehicons in the hall, jumping terrified. All soldiers, all crooks, all liars who continue to support these monsters. Have they got no free will? Have they got no shame?

Bluestreak feels his hatred burn for them too.

He raises his rifle to the closest one, just on the other end of the hallway with two others. A trio of traitors, walking so innocently together.

"Hey!-" Screams of alarm rang out, closely followed by a single gunshot, one of the vehicon's helm disappearing in an explosion of bright blue and a frame falling lifelessly to the ground.

And another. And another.

"Pew. Pew. Pew." He mouths at the three corpses, lowering his rifle slightly, never loosening his hold on the grip.

There's commotion behind him, pedsteps, yells- His doorwings hook up and without thinking he turns around, already switching the mode of his weapon and pulling the trigger again, energon splattering all over him as the vehicon behind him gets his chest obliterated from a close-range rifle shot, staggering back before falling like a ragdoll.

More screams rung out. He's not sure if he's crying or smiling.

But these aren't his real targets. He has one particular one in mind.

He hears a gasp and he looks up, only to meet Sunstreaker staring at him with a troubled expression. Not quite horror, never disgust-

Worry. It's worry, for the same mech currently covered in energon, gripping a gun after just showcasing what he could've effortlessly done to him before.

He feels his resolve slip just a little, but not enough to stop him. He also knows, as he sees the other's mouth slowly open, that if he stays here, he'll get talked out of this. He can't let this happen. Please, he needs just this one thing, for himself-

So he turns and runs, like the coward he is. Runs through the halls, shooting anyone he comes across like targets on range practice. He hears screams, he hears cries, he knows he's on-point every single time. He ignores any injuries, a hit there, a scratch there, a shot that got him in the side- It doesn't matter. It's as if he doesn't feel the pain of it all, running on pure rage, spite and murderous intent giving him the strength to shake it off like nothing.

Sniper shots don't become less deadly when they're close range. The opposite, even. He doesn't have to account for air resistance, wind currents and possible target movement. He can just point, pull the trigger and shoot.

The countless energon splatters he leaves in his wake are proof enough.

"STARSCREAAAAM!" He's going to kill the other tonight, no matter what happens. It's the least he can do for all the sparks lost at Praxus. He doesn't care for all the shots fired, or all the energon splashed. He doesn't care, he feels as if he lost the ability to care somewhere along the way.

He doesn't care for taunts, for banter, for useless words others seem to enjoy exchanging on the battlefield for some reason. No, he's god a fucking job to do. He may be quiet for once on the outside, but all the chaos around him fills the silence better than he could ever have.

It makes that much easier so when he charges into the bridge and pulls the trigger faster than the stupid, jarring seeker can even screech something out.

One two three four- Click, click click. Bluestreak's optics fly down where he uselessly pulls the trigger, out of ammo.

Oh. Seems like his little meet cute with the crew back there cost him a little.

No matter, the four previous shots did more than enough damage to Starscream for him to take his rifle by the barrel, run towards the seeker with a terrifying scream of his own ripping from his vocaliser-

And slam the dull edge of his weapon right into the other's faceplates.

It makes him stagger. He does it again.

Starscream's on the floor. He gets on top of him, bringing his gun down again.

"You bastard!" He doesn't let the other speak, doesn't let him make any noise at all besides the gurgles as he chokes on his own energon, only bringing the blunt edge of his rifle down again, and again, and again- The rhythmic thud thud thud accompanied by splashes of energon and sparking of ripped internals is like music to his audials.

Starscream gasps, chokes something out- Bluestreak doesn't let him. Had he let the innocents of Praxus say their last wishes before he ruthlessly murdered them? Had he let them cry and beg before he dropped them from the skies and watched them explode upon impact with the ground? Had he let them scream before rubble came crashing down to bury them alive?

How dare he think he deserves mercy after all of it?

"I'll kill you! I'll kill you, I'll kill you, I'll kill you, I'll fucking kill you!"

He doesn't know how many times he screams, nor how many times he brought his gun down. There's blue everywhere. He's covered in the blue. The floor's covered in the blue. He can't even distinguish the other's face amongst the blue exactly, so he just brings his rifle down into what he hopes is the centre of his face. Thuds, splashes and his own hysteric screams fill the room in a chaotic catatony of noises.

Then, suddenly, there's a change. There's pedsteps, a gasp, a wail of concern that's getting dangerously closer.

"Bluestreak holy Primus-" It's Sunstreaker, he blearily realises, his movements slowing slightly. He sounds fearful. Why?

"I'll-" He's panting, his movements staggering slightly as he hears the other's voice, the sheer concern dripping from it. Still, he brings it down, then up and down again, until he feels servos stronger than his own wrapping around him and tugging him away.

And he should fight. He should hit and growl, yell and bite, try to get free to finish the damn job, he should hold onto that anger rapidly spilling away like grains of sand through his digits-

But he's so tired.

So he lets himself get pulled away, lets these servos slip under his own and take his rifle away. Let them lead him into an embrace, let them hold him as the tears come back, let himself be held as he wails.

Sunstreaker holds him so dearly, as if he's something worth being fretted over, someone worth being worried for.

It painfully reminds him of his brother. Of his hugs whenever he was sad and subsequent silence because they both knew he was absolute slag at comforting words.

But no, now, he's saying something, maybe, but Bluestreak's not entirely sure. There's static in his audials, his vision is blurry, his legs shaky-

(And if Starscream lets out a pathetic, painful rasp still on the floor, they both leave it ignored. And if he notices Sunstreaker kicking the downed seeker right in his bloodied face in the same vent he mutters sweet nothings into his audial, he only snorts and hugs the other tighter.)

...and then there's a slight change. Sunstreaker hugs him tighter with one hand, his other flying to his helm as he nods, responding to someone, but Bluestreak doesn't hear. His doorwings still jump up as he feels the tell-tale buzz of an outside communication, that familiar staticy feeling around him enveloping him..

"They're here, we gotta go." Who's here, who are 'they'? Bluestreak wants to ask but his intake is dry and his glossa feels heavy, and before he can muster up enough strength, he's already tugged along, their roles reversed as Sunstreaker runs and runs, and Bluestreak follows and follows, staggering with each step, leaving a blue trail in their wake.

"Fuck, the vehicons are pissed!-" Sunstreaker yells as they duck into another hallway, having just missed a squadron of very angry looking vehicons who were already pointing their weapons up at them. "We'll never get to the brig like this!-"

The brig? Bluestreak felt some strength return, his doorwings jumping up and flaring out as he finally took a moment to collect himself and analyse their surroundings.

They were in the east wing, around the storage rooms. If they just moved in the right direction-

He tightened his grip on Sunstreaker, and before the other knew it, their places switched once more. Left, right, right, forward, four-way, choose the third, there's a hallway with two doors- choose neither, there's a hidden passage just by the first one. He slams his fist into the wall at just the correct place and the wall folds back before them, revealing a third way. They go there, the wall closing back in after, sealing off the increasingly closer sounding screams of their pursuers.

They're in the dark, Bluestreak notes how both of their biolights glow here. They're both blue, he realises, but his own are slightly darker than Sunstreaker's. They're not enough. He changes it swiftly by activating his alt mode's lights on his chest, lighting up their path as they run.

"Where- are we?-"

"Secret passageway, wouldn't find it on any maps." Bluestreak replies, even managing a small smile to flash the other. "Told ya this ship and Harbinger were the same model. And I knew that one better than anybot else."

They run run run- The passage ends in a dead end, but it's just that only if you're not Bluestreak, because surprise surprise, it's another secret door! Who would've guessed. So he slams his fist into the wall again, completely ignoring how he doesn't feel any pain despite it being the same fist he earlier plunged through machinery and had cut to the Pits and back, and they run again.

Almost there. Almost, almost!-

"Which floor."

"Wha-"

"The brig, there's 5 floors! Which one do we need to go to?!"

"Fourth, the fourth floor!"

Okay, floor four. He could do that.

They slide off into another hallway, then they take the maintenance stairs. There's pipes and cables everywhere around them in the very tight space, and it's hot as if they were burning in the Pits themselves in here, but they manage, only positive being Bluestreak at least managing to finally reclaim his rifle again while they were squeezing through, but soon they're out again and able to vent. Now it's just an easy way, another hallway, only one door, beautifully labeled as "BRIG IV" which they promptly burst into-

Only to be greeted by a whole autobot party waiting for them.

Blustreak's spark stills one again as he bleakley notes there's at least 5 of them if not more. There's a huge black one, there's a red one eerily similar to Sunstreaker, there's three smaller bots, probably femmes going by their statures, and then there's a silver one he didn't notice earlier-

Oh he's screwed. He's royally, utterly screwed.

He wants to go back, except Sunstreaker doesn't wait. He rips himself from his grip and goes straight for the red one, almost jumping into the other's arms in a moment of happiness unlike anything Bluestreak's seen from him yet-

Oh. They look so similar. Similar statures, builds, even their heights are barely different. Their helms are both black, audial horns meeting Sunstreaker's helmfins.

Brothers.

His spark thrums painfully in his chest. It's the first painful sensation he's felt in a long, long time, Bluestreak realised.

"Hey there now, kid." The biggest one speaks, taking a small step forward. Bluestreak immediately puffs his plating up defensively, taking a slight step back, ignoring how his body screams for him to lie down and rest, how his frame aches from his injuries despite no pain registering-

"Get back." He hisses and feels incredibly stupid for right after. Who is he to tell them to back off? He's the one acting like a wild mechanimal out of them all. They didn't even draw their weapons at him, despite how much he deserved it in the current situation!

Having kidnapped their comrade, now standing here covered in energon. Primus, he must look like a massacre.

"Hey, hey, hey now." Still, no matter how terrible Bluestreak is, the other somehow manages to stay as calm as he was still. Bluestreak can't relate. "We're not here to fight."

"You should." He says, ignoring how shaky his voice is. "I would."

"Yet you didn't attack any of us yet."

"..." What can he reply to that? It's true.

What would even be the point anymore? Autobots, decepticons... who is he right now?

"...he's mentioned how it might be hard to convince you..." The bigger bot mused aloud, making Bluestreak's doorwings jump up and his interest spike again as he glanced back up. "...I remember ya didn't believe us your brother was with us, didn'cha?"

He stayed silent, his doorwings hiking up even higher.

"So I thought... why not show you some proof?" He said, still in that ever-calm voice of his, taking something out from his subspace. A datapad, he realised.

He opened his intake, to argue, to question, he wasn't even sure himself-

-because as soon as it loaded, any words he wanted to say died before he could utter them.

It was a picture. It was an, admittedly, very cute picture. He knew it was a genuine picture too, no matter how much he tried to look for discrepancies, everything checked out, down to the last, minute detail.

Barricade, a vehicon, and a tiny yellow sparkling, all together. His brother was cuddled up to the vehicon's side, the sparkling sitting on his lap. They were in a similar pose as in sunstreaker's drawing earlier (how could he have ignored the fact Sunstreak drew them so domestically? How blind was he?), all three smiling, all three so painfully domestic, just like he remembered being himself with his brother.

His brother, who looks calm, gentle, more relaxed than Bluestreak almost ever remembered him being. So-

Happy.

"...he looks so happy." His words were so quiet for someone who usually couldn't keep himself anywhere close to silence.

What was even the point of fighting? Everything he believed in was a lie, he was surrounded by the enemy(?), Sunstreaker was with his brother again, and his own brother was-

Still smiling in the picture, a new family in his own place.

The rifle slipped from his servos as all strength seemed to desolate him suddenly, his knees 'thunk'ing as they hit the floor.

"...He looks so happy without me."

"And he'll be only happier with you around, kid." The biggest of the bunch said again and came forward closer, crouching in front of him. He was still taller than Bluestreak himself by a ton. Had to be older too.

Slowly, weakly maybe, he raised his helm to look at the other.

Bluestreak didn't understand why his vision was so blurry. (Liar. He knew how tears clogging his optics felt.)

"...How can you know?"

"He told us himself to bring you home safely."

Bluestreak's optics widened a fraction, even as he still kneeled still on the floor.

Home, huh?

"...home...?"

"Yeah. So what'll be, huh, kid?" He looked so calmly back at him. As if Bluestreak's servos weren't covered in the energon of the innocent, as if he hadn't murdered more autobots than he could count.

As if he was the 'kid' they insisted on him being.

"...I wanna see him..." His voice felt small even to himself as he admitted it, so quietly. So gently. "...I wanna see my brother."

"Then come on," The bigger bot stood back up and outstretched his servo, smiling down at him so dearly. "let's go back to your big brother, kid."

And really, truly, honestly and every other expression out there, as Bluestreak stared up at wonder, disbelief, amazement, so many other words he couldn't think of right now as he reached at took that invitation-

How could Bluestreak refuse?

Everything else was more or less a blurr. The big mech held his servo so gently, tugging him along as he stumbled around on weakened peds. A couple of steps in and the other seemed to grow tired of his missteps, wordlessly taking him, picking him up and throwing Bluestreak over his shoulder seamlessly.

He was too confused, tired, and frankly shocked, to even protest. Sunstreaker even sent him a reassuring smile as they went, a fleeing touch against his plating as he passed him with his brother.

Then, it was easy. A groundbridge opened before them, enveloping them faster than he could react-

And then they were somewhere else. Natural sunlight shining through the giant entrance as one by one, the other autobots emerged behind them.

He was still backwards, he couldn't see anything. But with a flick of his doorwings he could feel at least a couple presences behind them, one divine, one smaller, one-

His vents hitched.

One familiar.

The big bot (he should seriously ask them for their names-) took him again and put him down. Bluestreak didn't understand why simply turning around was suddenly so hard.

He took a deep in-vent, squaring his shoulders. Finally, he looked back.

"...Barricade." He didn't mean for his voice to come out so frail. He wanted to sound strong, firm. But as he finally met the disbelieving optics of his brother, he suddenly felt like a sparkling again. He felt like he was fresh out of school, no parents there to pick him up, only his older brother waiting by the gates. He remembers running into his arms, still so small back then. Hod brother would catch him and laugh, pick him up and whirl around. He loves it, the sensation of wind against his doorwings.

"...Bluestreak."

One word. One word is all it took for the floodgates to come crashing down, for tears to spill past his optics, for a cry to break free and for him to run forward into his brother's awaiting arms.

And Barricade catches him. He always caught him, no matter what. He caught him and is now holding him so close, so gently. His knees wobble, he can't support himself, not when he's nuzzling in as close as he can, babbling incoherently in his big brother's arms. They end up on the floor on their knees, but Barricade still never lets go.

He's here. He's here.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" He's crying, he doesn't care, not when his brothers hugs him as if nothing had changed- "I should've listened-"

"I don't care." Barricade shushed him, hugged him tighter, his baby, so big now but he didn't care. He still fit perfectly under his chin. "I don't care. You're here now."

Bluestreak gasped silently, letting more tears fall. He curled up tighter into his brother's embrace as he was held so dearly.

"That's all I've ever wanted."

Maybe he is home again after all.

---

Yahoo! Fucking finally, I finished it.

Also I knoooow I promised first meeting with Strongarm but I genuinely don't know how it'd go :sob: I need it to happen organically in our RP. No script. We throw those two out to the wolves and see what comes out!

Lifelong friendship hopefully-