[G1] Misconstruction - Part Three
Sep. 26th, 2015 08:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22a/n: This is simultaneously a flash fic fill and an update. ^_^
Characters: Sideswipe, Ratchet, Sunstreaker, Skyfire
Rated: K+
Description: Ratchet's chastisement holds more weight, and Sideswipe realizes an apology is needed.
Forfuzipenguin 's flash fiction prompt of Skyfire/Sideswipe/Sunstreaker, best intentions
Misconstruction – Part Three
“You did what?”
Sideswipe gamely tried to wriggle his way off the berth. Ratchet just as easily shoved him back down.
“I sent him to thank Skyfire,” Ratchet said. He gave Sideswipe a long look, one that suggested he had no problems gluing Sideswipe down if need be. “Sunstreaker's a big mech. He can offer gratitude without you holding his hand.”
“No, he can't.” Sideswipe huffed his frustration. “He's either going to get us sent to the brig, or he's going to get himself so worked up that I'll have to deal with it later.”
Ratchet rolled his optics. “Give him some credit, Sideswipe. He's not a complete moron.”
“Just most of one.” Sideswipe tossed his helm back against the berth pillow. “Why would you even think that was a good idea, Ratchet?”
“Maybe because he needs to know how to function on his own? You baby him too much, Sideswipe,” Ratchet said with another pointed look. “How's he going to grow if you don't let him take risks?”
Sideswipe snarled and popped back up. “The last time I did that, Hound of all mechs ended up on your operating table and Sunny was stuck in solitary for a week. We all know what good that did him.”
Short answer? None. No good. Sunstreaker liked to be alone, but he didn't want to be alone. He operated in the curious state of hating to be around others, but loathing and dreading complete solitude.
“Calm down.” Ratchet put a hand to his helm and shoved him back to the berth. Gently. Well, gently for Ratchet. “He's fine. It's been an hour. And what do you hear?”
“Nothing,” Sideswipe huffed.
“Exactly. No alarms. No sirens. No brawling. Nothing. So either your brother chickened out and is hiding in your room, or he said a proper thank you and then went to hide in your rooms. Or the washracks. Probably one and then the other,” Ratchet said with a wry grin. He knew them a little too well.
“Besides,” Ratchet continued as he scooted back down to focus on Sideswipe's hip again. His rolling chair screeched a protest, “can't you just check on him through the bond?”
“He's blocking me.” Sideswipe frowned with irritation.
“Because you were annoying him, I imagine.”
“What makes you say that?” Sideswipe gave Ratchet an indignant look. “I'll have you know I'm an absolute delight.”
Ratchet snorted and didn't dignify that with an answer. He started digging in Sideswipe's hip again, not that Sideswipe could feel anything. Ratchet had the good sensory dampeners.
Sideswipe poked along the bond again. Nope. Still nothing. He supposed he could ping Sunstreaker's comm if it was that serious.
“You need to thank Skyfire, too, Sides,” Ratchet said, his voice floating up from Sideswipe's hip.
Sideswipe frowned. “He was just doing what any Autobot would do. Pretty sure I've pulled his aft from the fire once or twice. Why does he deserve special gratitude?”
“Because I know you threatened him even after I told you it wasn't what you thought it was.”
His gaze slid back down to Ratchet but the medic wasn't looking at him. He was focused intently on Sideswipe's hip.
“Skyfire's a good mech. He didn't deserve it,” Ratchet added.
Sideswipe looked away. He wasn't particularly fond of a Ratchet Lecture. They were worse than Prowl Lectures and Optimus Prime's Look of Disappoint. Ratchet made him feel guilty where no one else could.
“He was staring,” Sideswipe grumbled.
“Was he?” Ratchet asked. “Or did you jump to conclusions? Did you even talk to him or did you just skip straight to the threats?”
Sideswipe plucked at the berth padding beneath him. He didn't answer that. He didn't want to answer that.
“That's what I thought,” Ratchet said.
Silence fell. Sideswipe welcomed it. He let Ratchet work and poked along the bond again. It opened up by a sliver, enough that Sunstreaker acknowledged his presence, but didn't actually respond. He felt... confused and bothered, but not homicidal. So the conversation with Skyfire had gone well, Sideswipe supposed.
Or Sunstreaker had yet to go through with it. Sometimes, the threat of Ratchet wasn't enough. Not often, but Sunstreaker could be obstinate on occasion. Sunstreaker was pretty much the definition of the term.
Ratchet sat back, closing Sideswipe's hip panel with a snap. He patted Sideswipe's arm. “There. You're fixed. Give it another hour for the dampener to wear off before you try to move or you'll regret it. Got me?”
“Yes, Ratchet.”
He waited for Ratchet to get up and leave him alone. But when it didn't happen, Sideswipe turned his helm to look at the medic. Ratchet was staring at him with that look he usually got when he wanted to have a serious discussion. Sideswipe squirmed internally.
“What?” he asked.
“How long have you been with us?” Ratchet asked, his tone uncharacteristically soft. “How long have you two fought beside us and shared in our energon? How long have I been looking after you, fixing you, and watching out for you?”
Sideswipe worked his intake. “That's not--”
“A long time,” Ratchet said, softly interrupting him. He laid his hand over Sideswipe's, squeezing. “I understand why you two don't trust. I get it, I do. But the more you keep up those walls and push everyone away, the more you'll never heal.”
Sideswipe turned his helm away. He didn't want to hear it.
“I need you to listen to me, Sideswipe,” Ratchet said. “I need you to hear what I'm saying. Because if you two keep on like this, you'll be hurting yourselves. I don't want to see that, do you understand?”
He cycled a ventilation. “Yes, Ratchet.”
Silence fell between them. He could feel the weight of Ratchet's gaze and his concern. It always made Sideswipe feel like a sparkling again. Sometimes, he was glad for it. Other times, it tapped into guilt Sideswipe tried not to feel. Guilt was weakness. Guilt didn't help you survive.
The chair squeaked as Ratchet stood, his old frame creaking as well. He felt the medic clap a hand on his shoulder, squeezing warmly.
“Get some rest, Sideswipe. I'll come back in an hour and make sure that sedative's worn off.”
“Yes, Ratchet.”
Ratchet's field nudged his with a comforting warmth before the medic took his leave, no doubt to check on the rest of the patients. The battle had been quick but brutal and while they hadn't suffered any losses, they hadn't gained any ground either. The war against the Decepticons was at a stalemate.
Sideswipe's spark tingled. The bond with his brother opened up by a fraction. Sideswipe shifted on the berth, turning his helm toward the door.
“Come on in, Sunny. Ratch's gone.”
Yellow plating filled the doorway, Sunstreaker inching into view like a sparkling recently chastised for bad behavior. His optics were downcast, his plating clamped down tight.
“What are you doing?” Sideswipe demanded as he propped himself up with his elbows. “Get your aft in here.”
Sunstreaker inched inside. “I talked to Skyfire.”
“I know. Ratch told me.” Sideswipe narrowed his optics. “Come on. Sit down. Tell me what happened.”
Sunstreaker cycled an audible ventilation and took the rolling stool Ratchet had abandoned. The wheels creaked as he rolled closer, still staring at the floor as though he couldn't believe it was there. He was acting weird and Sideswipe could barely sense anything through the bond, so he didn't know why.
“I thanked him,” Sunstreaker said, words bitten out as though they hurt him to say. “But he acted all weird about it. I don't know why.”
He reached for his brother's hand and frowned when Sunstreaker didn't reach back. He was bothered by this.
“Show me,” Sideswipe said. “C'mon. Let me see.” Maybe he could make sense of it.
Sunstreaker cycled a ventilation and scrubbed a hand down his faceplate. But the block on his side of the bond relented, allowing Sideswipe access. It wasn't hard to find the encounter with Skyfire as it was still in Sunstreaker's short-term memory banks. And it had left an impression on him.
Sideswipe frowned as he reviewed the conversation. He saw the same details as Sunstreaker, only his social protocols were better equipped to translate them.
Guilt increased tenfold. Ratchet was right. Primus damn it, but Ratchet was right and they owed Skyfire more than gratitude. They owed him an apology and other things, too.
“He was scared,” Sideswipe said quietly.
Sunstreaker shot to his pedes, his field flaring wildly. “I didn't do anything!”
“I know.” Sideswipe sighed and pressed the heel of his palm to his optical socket. He collapsed back against the berth, ignoring the twinge in his hip. “It wasn't because of something you did. Well, it was. But it was both of us.”
Ach, what a mess.
Sunstreaker's orbital ridge drew down. “I thought that was what we wanted. For him to be scared. So that he'd leave us alone.” His confusion was palpable.
Sideswipe sighed. “Except he wasn't bothering us in the first place.” They had mistakenly assumed he was staring at them for nefarious purposes. That was the only reason anyone had ever stared at them. And they'd learned to strike first because later, it was far too late.
Sunstreaker scowled and folded his arms over his chestplate. His shoulders hunched further. “You're not making any sense, Sides. How am I supposed to get this if you don't tell me stuff?” he muttered, and his gaze skittered to the side.
Distress curdled through his field and his spark.
Sideswipe hauled himself up, his lower half still somewhat sedated, and managed to hook a finger on one of Sunstreaker's seams. He tugged and Sunstreaker reluctantly stepped closer.
“Hey,” he said, trying to encourage his twin to unfurl a little. “You did good, bro. Really. From what I can tell, you did everything right.”
“He was scared of me,” Sunstreaker bit out, still unwilling to meet Sideswipe's optics. His mood plummeted further. “What if he goes to Prime? We don't have any more chances left, Sides. They're gonna kick us out and it's going to be my fault. Again.”
Sideswipe tugged and Sunstreaker slumped onto the berth, still in a ball of inconsolable Lamborghini. “He's not gonna go to Prime,” Sideswipe insisted as he pulled Sunstreaker into his lap. “We're not going anywhere.”
Silence from his twin. Which Sideswipe expected. Sunstreaker always retreated inward, where his thoughts would endlessly circulate.
“Look, Skyfire's reasonable, right?” Sideswipe said as slid onto his back again and was unsurprised to find Sunstreaker remaining plastered to him, their limbs tangling as though Sunny was trying to make them all one frame and one spark.
“You thanked him,” Sideswipe continued as he stroked Sunstreaker's back. “I'll do it, too. And we'll… apologize, okay? We can't be faulted for that.”
Damn, but that apology was going to hurt. Admitting they were wrong was not something either of them was prone to doing.
But Sideswipe couldn't shake the look on Skyfire's face from the back of his mind. It was filtered through Sunstreaker, but the fear and the discomfort, they were there. They were obvious.
Skyfire had done nothing against them since they confronted him two weeks ago. He'd actually done his best to avoid them, truth be told. Anyone else, like that fragger Gears or that cocky slagger Cliffjumper, would have jumped in the way or made a nuisance of themselves. They seemed to take threats as invitations.
Not Skyfire.
He didn't play the game like everyone else knew how to play.
“We can make it right,” Sideswipe said as he felt Sunstreaker's ex-vents against his intake. “And hey, even if we did frag up, at least we'll be together right?”
Sunstreaker snorted. “Great. Stuck with you. That must be the real punishment.” His spark, however, pulsed in gratitude and sheer, unadulterated love.
Social savant Sunstreaker might not be, but Sideswipe never doubted his love.
Sideswipe grinned and snuggled with his brother, already formulating a plan of action. First things first, he had to get out of the medbay.
Thankfully, Ratchet released him a few hours later. Moving gingerly on his sore hip, Sideswipe sent Sunstreaker away to fetch some energon and meet him back in their quarters. Sideswipe, meanwhile, made a detour to the corner of the Ark where Skyfire had been given a room.
Lucky flyer had one of the larger ones. But then, he did need it. Must be uncomfortable as it was to displace so much mass on a daily basis. The least they could do was give him an appropriately sized room.
Sideswipe pressed the door bell and shifted his weight to his other hip. He really was aching and all he wanted to do was go back to his room and indulge in some rest. He was, for once, going to take advantage of the fact Ratchet had him off-duty. He'd injured this same hip enough times that he might need to get it replaced soon, which would be a longer recovery time.
So yes, Ratchet, he was listening to reason and taking it easy. Sheesh.
The door opened and Skyfire looked down at him. “Uh,” he said, and noisily cleared his vocalizer. “Yes. How can I help you, Sideswipe?”
He planted a big smile on his face. “Actually, I'm kind of here to help you?” he said and tried to exude a sense of charm. “No, it's more like I'm here to apologize.”
“Oh.” Skyfire hovered in his doorway, his expression one of confusion. “That's unnecessary. But I appreciate the offer.”
He stepped back, Sideswipe lurched forward. “Wait!” he cried, and hissed as the too-quick movement made still-healing joints screech together. “Ow! I mean, damn it. Could I just… have a second?”
Skyfire hesitated. His wings, what little of them Sideswipe could see, twitched. “Yes,” he said finally and audibly cycled a ventilation. “What is it?”
Well, this was awkward.
Sideswipe stepped back, hoping it would make Skyfire a little more comfortable, and held up his hands. “First of all, thanks for saving my aft. You didn't have to, considering how we kind of threatened you and everything, but you did. And I'm glad I didn't go splat.”
“So am I.” A touch of humor entered Skyfire's expression, which was in Sideswipe's opinion, a lot better than the wariness. “I would do it again.”
“Yeah. So thanks for that.” Sideswipe lowered his hands and rubbed the back of his helm. This was the harder part. “But more than that, we're sorry. For attacking you like we did. We assumed something we shouldn't have and reacted a way we shouldn't and we're sorry we hurt you.”
Skyfire stared at him.
Sideswipe resisted the urge to fidget. No wonder Sunstreaker had come back so perturbed. Sideswipe wasn't used to feeling guilty. He had never cared if other Autobots hated them before because they were usually slaggers.
But he hadn't been in the awkward position of those fraggers saving his life when they didn't have to either. And usually, they'd given the insult first.
Sideswipe scraped a hand over his helm. “Anyway, that's what I came here to say. Both thank you and we're sorry and… well, that's it.” He offered a smile, tentative at best, and turned to go.
“Sideswipe.” Skyfire's vocals were stronger this time and when Sideswipe looked back at him, something almost like a smile was on his face.
Sideswipe never realized how handsome he was.
“I forgive you,” Skyfire said.
“Oh,” Sideswipe said as his faceplate unexpectedly warmed. He took a step back. “That's, um, that's good.” He ducked his helm and backed away again. “Have a good night.”
He absolutely did not flee down the hallway, but it was close to it. Skyfire called something out to him, but Sideswipe's buzzing audials didn't catch it.
That was just… weird. All around.
Sideswipe hurried back to the room he shared with his twin. Sunstreaker was already nagging him across the bond for an explanation and Sideswipe didn't have one.
That didn't make any sense at all.
****
a/n: So. I intended for this fic to end in three parts. Well, that's not going to happen now. LOL. It's going to be at least four, probably six. -shifty eyes- Not that I think anyone's going to complain. ;)
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.
Characters: Sideswipe, Ratchet, Sunstreaker, Skyfire
Rated: K+
Description: Ratchet's chastisement holds more weight, and Sideswipe realizes an apology is needed.
For
fuzipenguin 's flash fiction prompt of Skyfire/Sideswipe/Sunstreaker, best intentionsMisconstruction – Part Three
“You did what?”
Sideswipe gamely tried to wriggle his way off the berth. Ratchet just as easily shoved him back down.
“I sent him to thank Skyfire,” Ratchet said. He gave Sideswipe a long look, one that suggested he had no problems gluing Sideswipe down if need be. “Sunstreaker's a big mech. He can offer gratitude without you holding his hand.”
“No, he can't.” Sideswipe huffed his frustration. “He's either going to get us sent to the brig, or he's going to get himself so worked up that I'll have to deal with it later.”
Ratchet rolled his optics. “Give him some credit, Sideswipe. He's not a complete moron.”
“Just most of one.” Sideswipe tossed his helm back against the berth pillow. “Why would you even think that was a good idea, Ratchet?”
“Maybe because he needs to know how to function on his own? You baby him too much, Sideswipe,” Ratchet said with another pointed look. “How's he going to grow if you don't let him take risks?”
Sideswipe snarled and popped back up. “The last time I did that, Hound of all mechs ended up on your operating table and Sunny was stuck in solitary for a week. We all know what good that did him.”
Short answer? None. No good. Sunstreaker liked to be alone, but he didn't want to be alone. He operated in the curious state of hating to be around others, but loathing and dreading complete solitude.
“Calm down.” Ratchet put a hand to his helm and shoved him back to the berth. Gently. Well, gently for Ratchet. “He's fine. It's been an hour. And what do you hear?”
“Nothing,” Sideswipe huffed.
“Exactly. No alarms. No sirens. No brawling. Nothing. So either your brother chickened out and is hiding in your room, or he said a proper thank you and then went to hide in your rooms. Or the washracks. Probably one and then the other,” Ratchet said with a wry grin. He knew them a little too well.
“Besides,” Ratchet continued as he scooted back down to focus on Sideswipe's hip again. His rolling chair screeched a protest, “can't you just check on him through the bond?”
“He's blocking me.” Sideswipe frowned with irritation.
“Because you were annoying him, I imagine.”
“What makes you say that?” Sideswipe gave Ratchet an indignant look. “I'll have you know I'm an absolute delight.”
Ratchet snorted and didn't dignify that with an answer. He started digging in Sideswipe's hip again, not that Sideswipe could feel anything. Ratchet had the good sensory dampeners.
Sideswipe poked along the bond again. Nope. Still nothing. He supposed he could ping Sunstreaker's comm if it was that serious.
“You need to thank Skyfire, too, Sides,” Ratchet said, his voice floating up from Sideswipe's hip.
Sideswipe frowned. “He was just doing what any Autobot would do. Pretty sure I've pulled his aft from the fire once or twice. Why does he deserve special gratitude?”
“Because I know you threatened him even after I told you it wasn't what you thought it was.”
His gaze slid back down to Ratchet but the medic wasn't looking at him. He was focused intently on Sideswipe's hip.
“Skyfire's a good mech. He didn't deserve it,” Ratchet added.
Sideswipe looked away. He wasn't particularly fond of a Ratchet Lecture. They were worse than Prowl Lectures and Optimus Prime's Look of Disappoint. Ratchet made him feel guilty where no one else could.
“He was staring,” Sideswipe grumbled.
“Was he?” Ratchet asked. “Or did you jump to conclusions? Did you even talk to him or did you just skip straight to the threats?”
Sideswipe plucked at the berth padding beneath him. He didn't answer that. He didn't want to answer that.
“That's what I thought,” Ratchet said.
Silence fell. Sideswipe welcomed it. He let Ratchet work and poked along the bond again. It opened up by a sliver, enough that Sunstreaker acknowledged his presence, but didn't actually respond. He felt... confused and bothered, but not homicidal. So the conversation with Skyfire had gone well, Sideswipe supposed.
Or Sunstreaker had yet to go through with it. Sometimes, the threat of Ratchet wasn't enough. Not often, but Sunstreaker could be obstinate on occasion. Sunstreaker was pretty much the definition of the term.
Ratchet sat back, closing Sideswipe's hip panel with a snap. He patted Sideswipe's arm. “There. You're fixed. Give it another hour for the dampener to wear off before you try to move or you'll regret it. Got me?”
“Yes, Ratchet.”
He waited for Ratchet to get up and leave him alone. But when it didn't happen, Sideswipe turned his helm to look at the medic. Ratchet was staring at him with that look he usually got when he wanted to have a serious discussion. Sideswipe squirmed internally.
“What?” he asked.
“How long have you been with us?” Ratchet asked, his tone uncharacteristically soft. “How long have you two fought beside us and shared in our energon? How long have I been looking after you, fixing you, and watching out for you?”
Sideswipe worked his intake. “That's not--”
“A long time,” Ratchet said, softly interrupting him. He laid his hand over Sideswipe's, squeezing. “I understand why you two don't trust. I get it, I do. But the more you keep up those walls and push everyone away, the more you'll never heal.”
Sideswipe turned his helm away. He didn't want to hear it.
“I need you to listen to me, Sideswipe,” Ratchet said. “I need you to hear what I'm saying. Because if you two keep on like this, you'll be hurting yourselves. I don't want to see that, do you understand?”
He cycled a ventilation. “Yes, Ratchet.”
Silence fell between them. He could feel the weight of Ratchet's gaze and his concern. It always made Sideswipe feel like a sparkling again. Sometimes, he was glad for it. Other times, it tapped into guilt Sideswipe tried not to feel. Guilt was weakness. Guilt didn't help you survive.
The chair squeaked as Ratchet stood, his old frame creaking as well. He felt the medic clap a hand on his shoulder, squeezing warmly.
“Get some rest, Sideswipe. I'll come back in an hour and make sure that sedative's worn off.”
“Yes, Ratchet.”
Ratchet's field nudged his with a comforting warmth before the medic took his leave, no doubt to check on the rest of the patients. The battle had been quick but brutal and while they hadn't suffered any losses, they hadn't gained any ground either. The war against the Decepticons was at a stalemate.
Sideswipe's spark tingled. The bond with his brother opened up by a fraction. Sideswipe shifted on the berth, turning his helm toward the door.
“Come on in, Sunny. Ratch's gone.”
Yellow plating filled the doorway, Sunstreaker inching into view like a sparkling recently chastised for bad behavior. His optics were downcast, his plating clamped down tight.
“What are you doing?” Sideswipe demanded as he propped himself up with his elbows. “Get your aft in here.”
Sunstreaker inched inside. “I talked to Skyfire.”
“I know. Ratch told me.” Sideswipe narrowed his optics. “Come on. Sit down. Tell me what happened.”
Sunstreaker cycled an audible ventilation and took the rolling stool Ratchet had abandoned. The wheels creaked as he rolled closer, still staring at the floor as though he couldn't believe it was there. He was acting weird and Sideswipe could barely sense anything through the bond, so he didn't know why.
“I thanked him,” Sunstreaker said, words bitten out as though they hurt him to say. “But he acted all weird about it. I don't know why.”
He reached for his brother's hand and frowned when Sunstreaker didn't reach back. He was bothered by this.
“Show me,” Sideswipe said. “C'mon. Let me see.” Maybe he could make sense of it.
Sunstreaker cycled a ventilation and scrubbed a hand down his faceplate. But the block on his side of the bond relented, allowing Sideswipe access. It wasn't hard to find the encounter with Skyfire as it was still in Sunstreaker's short-term memory banks. And it had left an impression on him.
Sideswipe frowned as he reviewed the conversation. He saw the same details as Sunstreaker, only his social protocols were better equipped to translate them.
Guilt increased tenfold. Ratchet was right. Primus damn it, but Ratchet was right and they owed Skyfire more than gratitude. They owed him an apology and other things, too.
“He was scared,” Sideswipe said quietly.
Sunstreaker shot to his pedes, his field flaring wildly. “I didn't do anything!”
“I know.” Sideswipe sighed and pressed the heel of his palm to his optical socket. He collapsed back against the berth, ignoring the twinge in his hip. “It wasn't because of something you did. Well, it was. But it was both of us.”
Ach, what a mess.
Sunstreaker's orbital ridge drew down. “I thought that was what we wanted. For him to be scared. So that he'd leave us alone.” His confusion was palpable.
Sideswipe sighed. “Except he wasn't bothering us in the first place.” They had mistakenly assumed he was staring at them for nefarious purposes. That was the only reason anyone had ever stared at them. And they'd learned to strike first because later, it was far too late.
Sunstreaker scowled and folded his arms over his chestplate. His shoulders hunched further. “You're not making any sense, Sides. How am I supposed to get this if you don't tell me stuff?” he muttered, and his gaze skittered to the side.
Distress curdled through his field and his spark.
Sideswipe hauled himself up, his lower half still somewhat sedated, and managed to hook a finger on one of Sunstreaker's seams. He tugged and Sunstreaker reluctantly stepped closer.
“Hey,” he said, trying to encourage his twin to unfurl a little. “You did good, bro. Really. From what I can tell, you did everything right.”
“He was scared of me,” Sunstreaker bit out, still unwilling to meet Sideswipe's optics. His mood plummeted further. “What if he goes to Prime? We don't have any more chances left, Sides. They're gonna kick us out and it's going to be my fault. Again.”
Sideswipe tugged and Sunstreaker slumped onto the berth, still in a ball of inconsolable Lamborghini. “He's not gonna go to Prime,” Sideswipe insisted as he pulled Sunstreaker into his lap. “We're not going anywhere.”
Silence from his twin. Which Sideswipe expected. Sunstreaker always retreated inward, where his thoughts would endlessly circulate.
“Look, Skyfire's reasonable, right?” Sideswipe said as slid onto his back again and was unsurprised to find Sunstreaker remaining plastered to him, their limbs tangling as though Sunny was trying to make them all one frame and one spark.
“You thanked him,” Sideswipe continued as he stroked Sunstreaker's back. “I'll do it, too. And we'll… apologize, okay? We can't be faulted for that.”
Damn, but that apology was going to hurt. Admitting they were wrong was not something either of them was prone to doing.
But Sideswipe couldn't shake the look on Skyfire's face from the back of his mind. It was filtered through Sunstreaker, but the fear and the discomfort, they were there. They were obvious.
Skyfire had done nothing against them since they confronted him two weeks ago. He'd actually done his best to avoid them, truth be told. Anyone else, like that fragger Gears or that cocky slagger Cliffjumper, would have jumped in the way or made a nuisance of themselves. They seemed to take threats as invitations.
Not Skyfire.
He didn't play the game like everyone else knew how to play.
“We can make it right,” Sideswipe said as he felt Sunstreaker's ex-vents against his intake. “And hey, even if we did frag up, at least we'll be together right?”
Sunstreaker snorted. “Great. Stuck with you. That must be the real punishment.” His spark, however, pulsed in gratitude and sheer, unadulterated love.
Social savant Sunstreaker might not be, but Sideswipe never doubted his love.
Sideswipe grinned and snuggled with his brother, already formulating a plan of action. First things first, he had to get out of the medbay.
Thankfully, Ratchet released him a few hours later. Moving gingerly on his sore hip, Sideswipe sent Sunstreaker away to fetch some energon and meet him back in their quarters. Sideswipe, meanwhile, made a detour to the corner of the Ark where Skyfire had been given a room.
Lucky flyer had one of the larger ones. But then, he did need it. Must be uncomfortable as it was to displace so much mass on a daily basis. The least they could do was give him an appropriately sized room.
Sideswipe pressed the door bell and shifted his weight to his other hip. He really was aching and all he wanted to do was go back to his room and indulge in some rest. He was, for once, going to take advantage of the fact Ratchet had him off-duty. He'd injured this same hip enough times that he might need to get it replaced soon, which would be a longer recovery time.
So yes, Ratchet, he was listening to reason and taking it easy. Sheesh.
The door opened and Skyfire looked down at him. “Uh,” he said, and noisily cleared his vocalizer. “Yes. How can I help you, Sideswipe?”
He planted a big smile on his face. “Actually, I'm kind of here to help you?” he said and tried to exude a sense of charm. “No, it's more like I'm here to apologize.”
“Oh.” Skyfire hovered in his doorway, his expression one of confusion. “That's unnecessary. But I appreciate the offer.”
He stepped back, Sideswipe lurched forward. “Wait!” he cried, and hissed as the too-quick movement made still-healing joints screech together. “Ow! I mean, damn it. Could I just… have a second?”
Skyfire hesitated. His wings, what little of them Sideswipe could see, twitched. “Yes,” he said finally and audibly cycled a ventilation. “What is it?”
Well, this was awkward.
Sideswipe stepped back, hoping it would make Skyfire a little more comfortable, and held up his hands. “First of all, thanks for saving my aft. You didn't have to, considering how we kind of threatened you and everything, but you did. And I'm glad I didn't go splat.”
“So am I.” A touch of humor entered Skyfire's expression, which was in Sideswipe's opinion, a lot better than the wariness. “I would do it again.”
“Yeah. So thanks for that.” Sideswipe lowered his hands and rubbed the back of his helm. This was the harder part. “But more than that, we're sorry. For attacking you like we did. We assumed something we shouldn't have and reacted a way we shouldn't and we're sorry we hurt you.”
Skyfire stared at him.
Sideswipe resisted the urge to fidget. No wonder Sunstreaker had come back so perturbed. Sideswipe wasn't used to feeling guilty. He had never cared if other Autobots hated them before because they were usually slaggers.
But he hadn't been in the awkward position of those fraggers saving his life when they didn't have to either. And usually, they'd given the insult first.
Sideswipe scraped a hand over his helm. “Anyway, that's what I came here to say. Both thank you and we're sorry and… well, that's it.” He offered a smile, tentative at best, and turned to go.
“Sideswipe.” Skyfire's vocals were stronger this time and when Sideswipe looked back at him, something almost like a smile was on his face.
Sideswipe never realized how handsome he was.
“I forgive you,” Skyfire said.
“Oh,” Sideswipe said as his faceplate unexpectedly warmed. He took a step back. “That's, um, that's good.” He ducked his helm and backed away again. “Have a good night.”
He absolutely did not flee down the hallway, but it was close to it. Skyfire called something out to him, but Sideswipe's buzzing audials didn't catch it.
That was just… weird. All around.
Sideswipe hurried back to the room he shared with his twin. Sunstreaker was already nagging him across the bond for an explanation and Sideswipe didn't have one.
That didn't make any sense at all.
a/n: So. I intended for this fic to end in three parts. Well, that's not going to happen now. LOL. It's going to be at least four, probably six. -shifty eyes- Not that I think anyone's going to complain. ;)
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.
