[TF] Family Found 05/10
Apr. 13th, 2020 06:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22Universe: Transformers, Escort AU, All This and Heaven Too
Characters: Sunstreaker/Starscream, Rodimus, Sideswipe, Wrench
Rated: M
Warnings: lost siblings, reunited family, hard choices, angst, bdsm themes, humiliation kink slightly
Description: Sunstreaker didn’t understand why he felt so drawn to Sideswipe, until a mistake revealed the link between them, provoking a turn of events which will change everything.
Family Found
Part Five
Starscream ached.
It was the good kind of ache, but coupled with it was exhaustion. He felt strung out and wrung dry. He’d lost count of the number of overloads Sunstreaker got from him yesterday, and for a moment, he thought he’d gotten caught in a fever dream and confused Blurr for Sunstreaker. His Sunstreaker never had this much energy or stamina.
What had gotten into him?
He wanted to question it as much as he didn’t want to. He had to admit, all of the focus, the care, was intoxicating. He’d forgotten he was supposed to be angry. He’d forgotten he had no right to be angry in the first place.
It was like their argument had never happened.
The next day was like a dream. They woke, shared energon, shared a lingering bath, and had another slow interfacing session in a private bath Sunstreaker reserved for them. He’d been more than attentive; he’d been desperate for it. He’d wrung three overloads out of Starscream before succumbing to his own.
They went back to their habsuite, and Sunstreaker kissed him again, his hands wandering until Starscream tackled him to a berth, panting as he rode Sunstreaker to completion.
Afterward, Sunstreaker spent the next hour repainting him, carefully stripping his current paint, redoing it, and adding an expensive polish.
Starscream enjoyed the attention. But it worried him as well.
“Are you all right?” Starscream asked as they lay together, Sunstreaker reading a data-novel and absently stroking Starscream’s wings as Starscream sprawled on top of him, lightly dozing.
“Hm?” Sunstreaker’s hand stilled on the back of his wing. “Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Starscream lifted his head, folding his arms under his chest so that he could see Sunstreaker’s face. “Haven’t you noticed?”
Sunstreaker set aside the datapad. “You’ll have to be more specific.” He was being cagey, and Starscream didn’t like it.
“Not that I’m complaining, but we’ve interfaced more in the past couple days then we do in a few weeks,” Starscream pointed out. He sat up, a frown curving his lips. “You’re not usually this energetic.”
“Maybe I’m getting better.”
Starscream narrowed his optics. “I don’t think it works like that.”
“You’re not a spark specialist, how would you know?” Sunstreaker visibly tensed. He sat up, dislodging Starscream from his lap in the process. “It’s a good thing. Why should we question it?”
“What if it’s a sign you’re about to get worse?” Starscream pushed, worry curdling the sweet engex in his tanks. The idea of losing Sunstreaker, he wasn’t ready for that. He thought he had more time.
Sunstreaker swung his legs over the side of the berth, his armor clamped. “Then I guess I’m lucky I get to spend whatever time I have left with my best friend.”
Starscream set his jaw. “That’s not funny.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be.”
“Will you at least go see Wrench and ask?” Starscream scooted closer, resting a hand on Sunstreaker’s shoulder, and when his roommate didn’t shake him off, he slid his arm around Sunstreaker and rested his head on his shoulder instead. “For me?”
Sunstreaker rested a hand over his, giving it a squeeze. “It’s almost time for my weekly check-up anyway. I’ll go in a day sooner.”
“Today?”
“Today,” Sunstreaker confirmed with a sigh.
“Now?” Starscream pressed.
Sunstreaker slanted him a look. “Really?”
Starscream couldn’t explain it, but the unknown made him jittery, and he needed an answer as soon as possible. He needed to know Sunstreaker was all right.
“Yes.”
“Fine.” Sunstreaker slid off the berth, and Starscream joined him. “I take it you’re coming with?”
“If you don’t mind.”
“Of course not.” Sunstreaker’s face indicated otherwise. But he didn’t protest, and Starscream wasn’t going to point it out. He was more interested in the state of Sunstreaker’s health.
Starscream made a noncommittal noise. They tidied up their mess and each other, then ventured toward the lower floors where Wrench’s medical office could be found. Pre-sales floor hours meant the halls were quiet, most of the other escorts resting or preparing for the day’s opening.
The closer they got to Wrench’s, the more Sunstreaker’s disquiet echoed in his field. He’d already been quiet on the walk, but now he nibbled his bottom lip. His armor drew tight to his protoform. It unsettled Starscream. He’d never seen Sunstreaker get rattled over anything.
He’d always had a sort of casual attitude about his life expectancy and the weakness of his spark. But he’d never been particularly afraid of it.
Again, Starscream wondered if he knew something Starscream didn’t.
“I changed my mind,” Sunstreaker said the moment Wrench’s door came into view. He drew to a halt, and Starscream stopped with him. “I don’t want company.”
Starscream frowned. “Why?”
“Because if it’s bad news, I want to process it before I tell you.” Sunstreaker pressed his lips together, his field a discordant twang against Starscream’s own. He folded his arms, and in that moment, he looked small.
Starscream wanted to embrace him, but they were in the middle of a public corridor. He kept his hands to himself, though his spark ached. “You shouldn’t be alone.”
“I’ve been dealing with this alone for most of my life, Star.” Sunstreaker put his hand on the panel, opening the door. “I promise I’ll tell you when I’m done.”
He disappeared inside, leaving Starscream feeling cold in the corridor. Worry had him gnawing on the inside of his cheek.
He shouldn’t loiter outside of Wrench’s. It would only attract questions. He couldn’t fathom walking away either.
He paced instead.
He would wait.
~
“You’re early,” Wrench grunted as he gestured Sunstreaker into the only examination room he had. “What’s the matter?”
Sunstreaker climbed up onto the medberth and sat, anxiety twisting and gnawing inside his tanks like a cube of bad energon. “I’m not sure.”
Wrench hummed thoughtfully and grabbed his spark-scanner, powering it on. “All right. Then why is your field a mess, to start?”
Sunstreaker’s fingers tangled together, his hands resting in his lap. “I’m experiencing surges in arousal. Like Starscream but stronger.” He paused and shook his head, forehead crinkling. “I’d almost think someone slipped me a drug or something, but I can’t think of when they could have.”
“That’s… interesting.” Wrench pointed the scanner at him and it rattled to life, the wash of it prickling Sunstreaker’s sensors. “You’re still energetic? By your standards, I mean?”
Heat flooded Sunstreaker’s cheeks. “Enough that Starscream’s noticed.”
Wrench’s scanner beeped. He dragged the screen into view, optics narrowing as he flicked through the various readings.
“Well, your spark is definitely stronger,” Wrench said, his fingers dragging across the screen. He frowned, optics narrowing in concentration. “You’ve merged recently.”
Sunstreaker startled. “You can tell?”
“Of course I can.” Wrench tapped the screen thoughtfully and looked up at him. “Something you wanna tell me, sparkling? I didn’t think you and the Seeker of yours were at the admitting stage yet.”
“We’re not.” Sunstreaker looked down, staring at his interlaced fingers. “I have patient confidentiality, right?”
Silence swept into the room.
Wrench creaked as he swiveled, setting aside the scanner. He scooted closer on his wheeled stool and rested his burnt copper hands over Sunstreaker’s.
“You can tell me anything, Sunstreaker,” he said, voice rough, but warm where it mattered. “I’ve been lookin’ after you for what feels like forever. I promise to keep it secret if you want.”
“I do.” Sunstreaker still couldn’t bring himself to meet Wrench’s gaze. He wasn’t ashamed, not really. He was disappointed in himself, confused about what had happened, and sparksick over the idea he had lost an experience he wanted to give to Starscream.
“It wasn’t Starscream,” he admitted, barely louder than a whisper. “It was a client, one I’ve been taking a lot lately. I don’t know what happened. I couldn’t stop myself. It was like his spark was… was calling to me.”
His hands shook under Wrench’s.
The medic gave him a comforting squeeze. “Do you want me to test you for intoxicants?”
“I don’t think he drugged me. I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t… it wasn’t drugs.” Sunstreaker shuttered his optics and ex-vented, shaky though it was. “It didn’t hurt. It felt good, but you know, not like an overload does. Like… like I’d found a missing part of me.”
His insides curdled. He liked Sideswipe, he did. The mech was funny and submitted beautifully. But Sunstreaker didn’t want to be with him. He’d never fantasized about dating the mech, or spending every waking moment with him, or waking up beside him, or curling together quietly on a couch.
Which made those emotions all the more confusing. His spark ached for Sideswipe, as if that missing part was now too distant from him. But he wanted to be with Starscream.
Didn’t he?
Wrench performed a systems check, the click-click of a few systems resetting audible in the silence. “You remember last time I asked ya if I could send your results to a friend of mine?”
Sunstreaker nodded.
“He sent me somethin’ back.” Wrench squeezed his hands, his field layering over Sunstreaker’s with warmth and perfect. “It might be an answer. Might even explain everything. What do ya remember about your sparking?”
Sunstreaker’s forehead crinkled. “Nothing.” He looked up with a frown. “My memories are pretty jumbled. Staticky. They don’t make a lot of sense. I was raised in an orphanage with a bunch of other sparks no one wanted. It took me decades of working odd jobs to save up enough to get a proper frame.”
His first one had been hideous. Cobbled together, formed of basic parts and mismatched armor. His caretakers claimed they found him at the anonymous drop-off, barely adapted to his frame. They’d never bothered to trace where he might have come from.
“Ya didn’t have a caretaker?”
“Not a personal one. Not like most mechs.” Sunstreaker’s frown deepened, old hurts rising before he could quash them. He’d always suspected his original caretakers had abandoned him because of his spark condition. “Why?”
A ripple of something passed through Wrench’s optics. Anger maybe. But not at Sunstreaker. His field was as gentle and soothing as over.
“Your spark, it’s unfamiliar to me,” Wrench began after he cycled a ventilation. “But to mechs with better knowledge, there’s a coupla things it could be. My friend, he said the most likely culprit was that you were a twin.”
Sunstreaker cycled his optics. “A what?”
“It happens sometimes. Sparks culled from the hot spot emerge branched or split, and it depends a lot on the skill of the harvester to separate them properly,” Wrench explained, but his words sounded like they were coming from a tunnel. “Apparently, your spark is behaving like one that was improperly harvested.”
Improperly…?
Sunstreaker’s head dipped. His vision tunneled. What did that even mean? “I… I don’t...”
Wrench opened his mouth to reply, only to pause. He tilted his head in a universal gesture mechs learned to recognize meant he was receiving an internal comm. He held up a finger and leaned back.
“Yes, Streamline?”
Sunstreaker stared hard at the ground. A twin? He was a twin? What did that even mean? What happened? If he had a twin, where was his brother? Why was he abandoned?
“I’m with a patient right now.” He paused and huffed a ventilation. “Sunstreaker.” Another pause and Wrench squeezed Sunstreaker’s hand. “Oh. We’ll be there in a moment.”
We?
Sunstreaker looked up. Wrench’s gaze had slid his direction, curious but not angry, and Sunstreaker’s spark throbbed a rhythm of anxiety.
“What is it?” Sunstreaker asked, mouth going dry.
“We’re needed in the foyer,” Wrench said as he rose, tugging Sunstreaker with him. “Apparently you have an insistent visitor. And he has enough creds and lawyers to make refusal not an option.”
Sunstreaker cycled his optics, his confusion increasing exponentially. “Who?”
“A mech named Sideswipe.” Wrench gave him a curious look, as if peering through to Sunstreaker’s spark. “He wouldn’t, by any chance, be the mech you merged with?”
Color drained out of Sunstreaker’s face.
“Well, that’s a yes,” Wrench sighed. He held Sunstreaker’s elbow and directed him toward the door. “Come on, bitlet. I got a feelin’ I know where this conversation is gonna go.”
Sunstreaker let Wrench guide him, in something of a haze. His processor spun, and he had the feeling that if he weren’t abnormally energetic right now, he probably would have collapsed from the strain. As it were, he leaned heavily on Wrench, following him out of the medical center.
Starscream waited outside.
Frag. He’d forgotten about Starscream.
His Seeker’s optics widened with concern. “What’s going on?” he demanded, rushing forward, cupping Sunstreaker’s face. “Where are you going?”
“To the lobby,” Wrench grunted.
“What? Why?” Starscream asked, his gaze cutting briefly to Wrench before returning to Sunstreaker, his field probing Sunstreaker’s in quiet demand for an answer.
Sunstreaker pressed his free hand to Starscream’s wrist, a soft pressure urging them down. “I’m not sure,” he said. “I’ll tell you later, all right?”
“No, I’m coming with you,” Starscream insisted, falling in step beside Sunstreaker and Wrench, who moved at a fast clip down the corridor.
Sideswipe must have been kicking up quite the fuss. It was odd. Sunstreaker hadn’t known the mech to be impatient or angry.
“We don’t have time to argue,” Wrench said with an audible sigh. He jabbed a finger to summon the lift, his armor drawn taut to his frame. He looked rattled, and it was an unfamiliar sight to Sunstreaker. “If you’re coming, Starscream, now’d be a good time to practice keepin’ your mouth shut.”
Starscream’s optics widened, his wings hiking upward in visible offense. “I’m not an idiot, Wrench,” he hissed.
“No, but you can be irrational when it comes to each other,” Wrench said in a terse tone.
The lift dinged, and he moved inside, still urging Sunstreaker with him. His grip was firm, but gentle, and Sunstreaker was grateful for it. He wasn’t sure he could focus without prodding. He felt weirdly disconnected from it all.
Starscream huffed and followed, wings flicking upward, arms crossing over his cockpit. “What you call irrationality, I call concern. Sunstreaker is my friend and roommate.” His gaze flicked back to Sunstreaker, field reaching out as well. “Do you not want me here?”
This, he asked, in a quieter voice, not that Wrench couldn’t still hear him, but Sunstreaker supposed it was the gesture that counted. Starscream’s hand rested on the arm Wrench didn’t hold, and the warmth of it was comforting and right now, Sunstreaker was weak.
“You can come,” he said and nibbled on his bottom lip as the lift descended at a rapid pace. “Just… whatever you find out...” Sunstreaker hesitated, his spark twisting and turning into knots. “Well, you’ll find out when I do, I guess.”
Starscream’s optics narrowed. “That’s not very comforting.”
“Imagine how I feel then.” Sunstreaker sighed and slipped his arms free of both Wrench and Starscream, determined to face this on his own strength, weak though it may be. He’d survived most of his life by scraping and scratching for the right to function.
He’d meet this with that same tenacity.
The lift stopped with an ironically cheerful ding. Sunstreaker stepped out before his companions, leading the way to the main lobby. This time of day, it would be empty, save for the cleaning and prep staff. They wouldn’t open for another hour or so.
There was a group of people in the foyer, gathered in the central seating area, but Sideswipe was the only one standing. He paced back and forth, arms clasped behind his back, his face creased with no sign of his usual bright cheer.
Sunstreaker’s spark throbbed at the sight of him, and he hesitated, touching the seam of his chestplate.
Streamline turned at their arrival, and he looked cross. “Took you long enough,” he snapped. “Get down here.”
“I’ll have you be polite, if you don’t mind,” Sideswipe said, his voice commanding and cold as he came to a halt. His gaze snapped toward Sunstreaker, something both apologetic and yearning. “In fact, I don’t think your presence is required.”
Streamline spun toward Sideswipe, mouth open. “This is my place of business and--”
“This is a private matter.” Sideswipe rose to his height, chin lifted. “If I so chose, I could seize this place and make it my own, so if I were you, I’d rethink the next words emerging from your mouth.”
Sunstreaker’s optics widened.
Behind him, he heard Starscream’s sharp intake of vent, and a muttered curse. His field spiked with confusion.
Streamline’s mouth snapped shut, his lips forming a thin line. He all but vibrated with outrage, but he spun on a heel and stomped away from Sideswipe. He nearly clipped Wrench in his haste to depart.
The door slammed in his absence.
Sunstreaker was left with Wrench and Starscream.
And Sideswipe and the three strangers he’d brought with him.
“I’m sorry,” Sideswipe said, instantly losing the harsh glare to his optics, and the rigid lines of his armor. He softened, arms unfolding, and he moved toward Sunstreaker slowly, but with purpose. “I know my coming here today is a surprise, but I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to know the truth.”
“About what?” Sunstreaker asked, fearing that he already know.
Sideswipe’s gaze flicked to Starscream before returning to Sunstreaker again. His free hand landed against his chestplate. “I know you wanted to keep what happened between us a secret, but it left me unsettled.” He paused, looking distant. “Unsettled in a way I’ve never felt before. I sought out the advice of my personal medic.” His free hand gestured to the mech in bright white armor behind him. “And what he found left me with more questions than answers.”
Wrench moved up beside Sunstreaker. “Frequency of a shared spark?” he asked gruffly.
The medic jerked his head in a nod. “Precisely.”
Wrench sighed.
“A shared spark?” Starscream repeated. He glanced between Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. “Wait. I don’t understand. What the frag does that mean?” He looked… he looked hurt, and Sunstreaker longed to comfort him.
It was all his fault. This truth he didn’t know. This truth he didn’t realize was out there.
“Sprocket believes I merged with my twin,” Sideswipe explained, and a spark of joy danced in his optics. He was within reach now, and he lifted his hands in an aborted gesture when Sunstreaker unconsciously stepped back from him. “It was a surprise to me, too. I didn’t know I had a twin. It’s a weird turn of events, and if my caretakers were alive, I’d ask them about it.”
“M-merged?” Starscream echoed. He paled and stumbled backward, his field radiating hurt.
Sunstreaker looked at the ground. “I don’t have a twin,” he said. “But I also don’t have an explanation for what happened either.”
“It’s a simple scan, Sunstreaker.” Sprocket rose from his couch. He was a small medic, in comparison to Wrench, and his shiny armor was almost blinding. It had never been touched by rust or scratch.
Thus was the evidence of the wealthy.
“It’ll only take a moment to compare your spark frequencies,” Sprocket added with a smile Sunstreaker supposed was meant to be reassuring.
It wasn’t.
He’d spent far too much of his life with medics poking and prodding at him, trying to find out what was wrong with him, until Sunstreaker stopped going to his appointments. There was no solution, no cure. He learned to live with it instead, and never trusted another medic, until he met Wrench.
A heavy hand rested gently on his shoulder. “It really is just a scan,” Wrench rumbled. “No different than what I do every week.” His field touched Sunstreaker’s with a brush of comfort. “I can perform it myself if you want.”
He didn’t dare look at Starscream.
Sunstreaker nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak either.
Wrench patted him on the shoulder and looked past him. “Will that satisfy your lawyers?”
Sideswipe looked at Sunstreaker, and maybe he could read the hesitation, the fear in his optics, because he nodded. “It’s enough for me, and that’s what matters.” He gestured to his medic again. “Sprocket has the proper scanner.”
“I know how to use it.” Wrench leveraged past Sunstreaker, nearly twice Sprocket’s size, a rusty mech as intimidating as he was gentle. “Might not look it, but I graduated top of my class.”
“Back in the beginning of time? With Primus and Adaptus maybe?” Sideswipe asked with a teasing grin, probably trying to interject some levity into the tense moment.
Wrench snorted a laugh. “Maybe a graduating class or two behind them.” He grinned and reached for the scanner Sprocket had to offer. “Oh, the stories I could tell you, sparkling.”
Sideswipe chuckled. “Maybe sometime after this is solved, yeah? Something tells me you know all kinds of interesting things.”
Wrench gave him a look before he patted Sideswipe on the shoulder, much to the stiffening of the mech bristling with weaponry standing next to Sprocket. “I like you, bitlet. We’ll see.”
Sunstreaker snuck a glance at Starscream, but his Seeker had drawn inward. His wings drooped, his arms folding tight over his chassis. He kept peering at Sideswipe before staring at the ground again.
He didn’t look at Sunstreaker.
Was this the moment he lost Starscream?
Or worse.
Maybe he never had his Seeker to start.
***
Characters: Sunstreaker/Starscream, Rodimus, Sideswipe, Wrench
Rated: M
Warnings: lost siblings, reunited family, hard choices, angst, bdsm themes, humiliation kink slightly
Description: Sunstreaker didn’t understand why he felt so drawn to Sideswipe, until a mistake revealed the link between them, provoking a turn of events which will change everything.
Part Five
Starscream ached.
It was the good kind of ache, but coupled with it was exhaustion. He felt strung out and wrung dry. He’d lost count of the number of overloads Sunstreaker got from him yesterday, and for a moment, he thought he’d gotten caught in a fever dream and confused Blurr for Sunstreaker. His Sunstreaker never had this much energy or stamina.
What had gotten into him?
He wanted to question it as much as he didn’t want to. He had to admit, all of the focus, the care, was intoxicating. He’d forgotten he was supposed to be angry. He’d forgotten he had no right to be angry in the first place.
It was like their argument had never happened.
The next day was like a dream. They woke, shared energon, shared a lingering bath, and had another slow interfacing session in a private bath Sunstreaker reserved for them. He’d been more than attentive; he’d been desperate for it. He’d wrung three overloads out of Starscream before succumbing to his own.
They went back to their habsuite, and Sunstreaker kissed him again, his hands wandering until Starscream tackled him to a berth, panting as he rode Sunstreaker to completion.
Afterward, Sunstreaker spent the next hour repainting him, carefully stripping his current paint, redoing it, and adding an expensive polish.
Starscream enjoyed the attention. But it worried him as well.
“Are you all right?” Starscream asked as they lay together, Sunstreaker reading a data-novel and absently stroking Starscream’s wings as Starscream sprawled on top of him, lightly dozing.
“Hm?” Sunstreaker’s hand stilled on the back of his wing. “Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Starscream lifted his head, folding his arms under his chest so that he could see Sunstreaker’s face. “Haven’t you noticed?”
Sunstreaker set aside the datapad. “You’ll have to be more specific.” He was being cagey, and Starscream didn’t like it.
“Not that I’m complaining, but we’ve interfaced more in the past couple days then we do in a few weeks,” Starscream pointed out. He sat up, a frown curving his lips. “You’re not usually this energetic.”
“Maybe I’m getting better.”
Starscream narrowed his optics. “I don’t think it works like that.”
“You’re not a spark specialist, how would you know?” Sunstreaker visibly tensed. He sat up, dislodging Starscream from his lap in the process. “It’s a good thing. Why should we question it?”
“What if it’s a sign you’re about to get worse?” Starscream pushed, worry curdling the sweet engex in his tanks. The idea of losing Sunstreaker, he wasn’t ready for that. He thought he had more time.
Sunstreaker swung his legs over the side of the berth, his armor clamped. “Then I guess I’m lucky I get to spend whatever time I have left with my best friend.”
Starscream set his jaw. “That’s not funny.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be.”
“Will you at least go see Wrench and ask?” Starscream scooted closer, resting a hand on Sunstreaker’s shoulder, and when his roommate didn’t shake him off, he slid his arm around Sunstreaker and rested his head on his shoulder instead. “For me?”
Sunstreaker rested a hand over his, giving it a squeeze. “It’s almost time for my weekly check-up anyway. I’ll go in a day sooner.”
“Today?”
“Today,” Sunstreaker confirmed with a sigh.
“Now?” Starscream pressed.
Sunstreaker slanted him a look. “Really?”
Starscream couldn’t explain it, but the unknown made him jittery, and he needed an answer as soon as possible. He needed to know Sunstreaker was all right.
“Yes.”
“Fine.” Sunstreaker slid off the berth, and Starscream joined him. “I take it you’re coming with?”
“If you don’t mind.”
“Of course not.” Sunstreaker’s face indicated otherwise. But he didn’t protest, and Starscream wasn’t going to point it out. He was more interested in the state of Sunstreaker’s health.
Starscream made a noncommittal noise. They tidied up their mess and each other, then ventured toward the lower floors where Wrench’s medical office could be found. Pre-sales floor hours meant the halls were quiet, most of the other escorts resting or preparing for the day’s opening.
The closer they got to Wrench’s, the more Sunstreaker’s disquiet echoed in his field. He’d already been quiet on the walk, but now he nibbled his bottom lip. His armor drew tight to his protoform. It unsettled Starscream. He’d never seen Sunstreaker get rattled over anything.
He’d always had a sort of casual attitude about his life expectancy and the weakness of his spark. But he’d never been particularly afraid of it.
Again, Starscream wondered if he knew something Starscream didn’t.
“I changed my mind,” Sunstreaker said the moment Wrench’s door came into view. He drew to a halt, and Starscream stopped with him. “I don’t want company.”
Starscream frowned. “Why?”
“Because if it’s bad news, I want to process it before I tell you.” Sunstreaker pressed his lips together, his field a discordant twang against Starscream’s own. He folded his arms, and in that moment, he looked small.
Starscream wanted to embrace him, but they were in the middle of a public corridor. He kept his hands to himself, though his spark ached. “You shouldn’t be alone.”
“I’ve been dealing with this alone for most of my life, Star.” Sunstreaker put his hand on the panel, opening the door. “I promise I’ll tell you when I’m done.”
He disappeared inside, leaving Starscream feeling cold in the corridor. Worry had him gnawing on the inside of his cheek.
He shouldn’t loiter outside of Wrench’s. It would only attract questions. He couldn’t fathom walking away either.
He paced instead.
He would wait.
“You’re early,” Wrench grunted as he gestured Sunstreaker into the only examination room he had. “What’s the matter?”
Sunstreaker climbed up onto the medberth and sat, anxiety twisting and gnawing inside his tanks like a cube of bad energon. “I’m not sure.”
Wrench hummed thoughtfully and grabbed his spark-scanner, powering it on. “All right. Then why is your field a mess, to start?”
Sunstreaker’s fingers tangled together, his hands resting in his lap. “I’m experiencing surges in arousal. Like Starscream but stronger.” He paused and shook his head, forehead crinkling. “I’d almost think someone slipped me a drug or something, but I can’t think of when they could have.”
“That’s… interesting.” Wrench pointed the scanner at him and it rattled to life, the wash of it prickling Sunstreaker’s sensors. “You’re still energetic? By your standards, I mean?”
Heat flooded Sunstreaker’s cheeks. “Enough that Starscream’s noticed.”
Wrench’s scanner beeped. He dragged the screen into view, optics narrowing as he flicked through the various readings.
“Well, your spark is definitely stronger,” Wrench said, his fingers dragging across the screen. He frowned, optics narrowing in concentration. “You’ve merged recently.”
Sunstreaker startled. “You can tell?”
“Of course I can.” Wrench tapped the screen thoughtfully and looked up at him. “Something you wanna tell me, sparkling? I didn’t think you and the Seeker of yours were at the admitting stage yet.”
“We’re not.” Sunstreaker looked down, staring at his interlaced fingers. “I have patient confidentiality, right?”
Silence swept into the room.
Wrench creaked as he swiveled, setting aside the scanner. He scooted closer on his wheeled stool and rested his burnt copper hands over Sunstreaker’s.
“You can tell me anything, Sunstreaker,” he said, voice rough, but warm where it mattered. “I’ve been lookin’ after you for what feels like forever. I promise to keep it secret if you want.”
“I do.” Sunstreaker still couldn’t bring himself to meet Wrench’s gaze. He wasn’t ashamed, not really. He was disappointed in himself, confused about what had happened, and sparksick over the idea he had lost an experience he wanted to give to Starscream.
“It wasn’t Starscream,” he admitted, barely louder than a whisper. “It was a client, one I’ve been taking a lot lately. I don’t know what happened. I couldn’t stop myself. It was like his spark was… was calling to me.”
His hands shook under Wrench’s.
The medic gave him a comforting squeeze. “Do you want me to test you for intoxicants?”
“I don’t think he drugged me. I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t… it wasn’t drugs.” Sunstreaker shuttered his optics and ex-vented, shaky though it was. “It didn’t hurt. It felt good, but you know, not like an overload does. Like… like I’d found a missing part of me.”
His insides curdled. He liked Sideswipe, he did. The mech was funny and submitted beautifully. But Sunstreaker didn’t want to be with him. He’d never fantasized about dating the mech, or spending every waking moment with him, or waking up beside him, or curling together quietly on a couch.
Which made those emotions all the more confusing. His spark ached for Sideswipe, as if that missing part was now too distant from him. But he wanted to be with Starscream.
Didn’t he?
Wrench performed a systems check, the click-click of a few systems resetting audible in the silence. “You remember last time I asked ya if I could send your results to a friend of mine?”
Sunstreaker nodded.
“He sent me somethin’ back.” Wrench squeezed his hands, his field layering over Sunstreaker’s with warmth and perfect. “It might be an answer. Might even explain everything. What do ya remember about your sparking?”
Sunstreaker’s forehead crinkled. “Nothing.” He looked up with a frown. “My memories are pretty jumbled. Staticky. They don’t make a lot of sense. I was raised in an orphanage with a bunch of other sparks no one wanted. It took me decades of working odd jobs to save up enough to get a proper frame.”
His first one had been hideous. Cobbled together, formed of basic parts and mismatched armor. His caretakers claimed they found him at the anonymous drop-off, barely adapted to his frame. They’d never bothered to trace where he might have come from.
“Ya didn’t have a caretaker?”
“Not a personal one. Not like most mechs.” Sunstreaker’s frown deepened, old hurts rising before he could quash them. He’d always suspected his original caretakers had abandoned him because of his spark condition. “Why?”
A ripple of something passed through Wrench’s optics. Anger maybe. But not at Sunstreaker. His field was as gentle and soothing as over.
“Your spark, it’s unfamiliar to me,” Wrench began after he cycled a ventilation. “But to mechs with better knowledge, there’s a coupla things it could be. My friend, he said the most likely culprit was that you were a twin.”
Sunstreaker cycled his optics. “A what?”
“It happens sometimes. Sparks culled from the hot spot emerge branched or split, and it depends a lot on the skill of the harvester to separate them properly,” Wrench explained, but his words sounded like they were coming from a tunnel. “Apparently, your spark is behaving like one that was improperly harvested.”
Improperly…?
Sunstreaker’s head dipped. His vision tunneled. What did that even mean? “I… I don’t...”
Wrench opened his mouth to reply, only to pause. He tilted his head in a universal gesture mechs learned to recognize meant he was receiving an internal comm. He held up a finger and leaned back.
“Yes, Streamline?”
Sunstreaker stared hard at the ground. A twin? He was a twin? What did that even mean? What happened? If he had a twin, where was his brother? Why was he abandoned?
“I’m with a patient right now.” He paused and huffed a ventilation. “Sunstreaker.” Another pause and Wrench squeezed Sunstreaker’s hand. “Oh. We’ll be there in a moment.”
We?
Sunstreaker looked up. Wrench’s gaze had slid his direction, curious but not angry, and Sunstreaker’s spark throbbed a rhythm of anxiety.
“What is it?” Sunstreaker asked, mouth going dry.
“We’re needed in the foyer,” Wrench said as he rose, tugging Sunstreaker with him. “Apparently you have an insistent visitor. And he has enough creds and lawyers to make refusal not an option.”
Sunstreaker cycled his optics, his confusion increasing exponentially. “Who?”
“A mech named Sideswipe.” Wrench gave him a curious look, as if peering through to Sunstreaker’s spark. “He wouldn’t, by any chance, be the mech you merged with?”
Color drained out of Sunstreaker’s face.
“Well, that’s a yes,” Wrench sighed. He held Sunstreaker’s elbow and directed him toward the door. “Come on, bitlet. I got a feelin’ I know where this conversation is gonna go.”
Sunstreaker let Wrench guide him, in something of a haze. His processor spun, and he had the feeling that if he weren’t abnormally energetic right now, he probably would have collapsed from the strain. As it were, he leaned heavily on Wrench, following him out of the medical center.
Starscream waited outside.
Frag. He’d forgotten about Starscream.
His Seeker’s optics widened with concern. “What’s going on?” he demanded, rushing forward, cupping Sunstreaker’s face. “Where are you going?”
“To the lobby,” Wrench grunted.
“What? Why?” Starscream asked, his gaze cutting briefly to Wrench before returning to Sunstreaker, his field probing Sunstreaker’s in quiet demand for an answer.
Sunstreaker pressed his free hand to Starscream’s wrist, a soft pressure urging them down. “I’m not sure,” he said. “I’ll tell you later, all right?”
“No, I’m coming with you,” Starscream insisted, falling in step beside Sunstreaker and Wrench, who moved at a fast clip down the corridor.
Sideswipe must have been kicking up quite the fuss. It was odd. Sunstreaker hadn’t known the mech to be impatient or angry.
“We don’t have time to argue,” Wrench said with an audible sigh. He jabbed a finger to summon the lift, his armor drawn taut to his frame. He looked rattled, and it was an unfamiliar sight to Sunstreaker. “If you’re coming, Starscream, now’d be a good time to practice keepin’ your mouth shut.”
Starscream’s optics widened, his wings hiking upward in visible offense. “I’m not an idiot, Wrench,” he hissed.
“No, but you can be irrational when it comes to each other,” Wrench said in a terse tone.
The lift dinged, and he moved inside, still urging Sunstreaker with him. His grip was firm, but gentle, and Sunstreaker was grateful for it. He wasn’t sure he could focus without prodding. He felt weirdly disconnected from it all.
Starscream huffed and followed, wings flicking upward, arms crossing over his cockpit. “What you call irrationality, I call concern. Sunstreaker is my friend and roommate.” His gaze flicked back to Sunstreaker, field reaching out as well. “Do you not want me here?”
This, he asked, in a quieter voice, not that Wrench couldn’t still hear him, but Sunstreaker supposed it was the gesture that counted. Starscream’s hand rested on the arm Wrench didn’t hold, and the warmth of it was comforting and right now, Sunstreaker was weak.
“You can come,” he said and nibbled on his bottom lip as the lift descended at a rapid pace. “Just… whatever you find out...” Sunstreaker hesitated, his spark twisting and turning into knots. “Well, you’ll find out when I do, I guess.”
Starscream’s optics narrowed. “That’s not very comforting.”
“Imagine how I feel then.” Sunstreaker sighed and slipped his arms free of both Wrench and Starscream, determined to face this on his own strength, weak though it may be. He’d survived most of his life by scraping and scratching for the right to function.
He’d meet this with that same tenacity.
The lift stopped with an ironically cheerful ding. Sunstreaker stepped out before his companions, leading the way to the main lobby. This time of day, it would be empty, save for the cleaning and prep staff. They wouldn’t open for another hour or so.
There was a group of people in the foyer, gathered in the central seating area, but Sideswipe was the only one standing. He paced back and forth, arms clasped behind his back, his face creased with no sign of his usual bright cheer.
Sunstreaker’s spark throbbed at the sight of him, and he hesitated, touching the seam of his chestplate.
Streamline turned at their arrival, and he looked cross. “Took you long enough,” he snapped. “Get down here.”
“I’ll have you be polite, if you don’t mind,” Sideswipe said, his voice commanding and cold as he came to a halt. His gaze snapped toward Sunstreaker, something both apologetic and yearning. “In fact, I don’t think your presence is required.”
Streamline spun toward Sideswipe, mouth open. “This is my place of business and--”
“This is a private matter.” Sideswipe rose to his height, chin lifted. “If I so chose, I could seize this place and make it my own, so if I were you, I’d rethink the next words emerging from your mouth.”
Sunstreaker’s optics widened.
Behind him, he heard Starscream’s sharp intake of vent, and a muttered curse. His field spiked with confusion.
Streamline’s mouth snapped shut, his lips forming a thin line. He all but vibrated with outrage, but he spun on a heel and stomped away from Sideswipe. He nearly clipped Wrench in his haste to depart.
The door slammed in his absence.
Sunstreaker was left with Wrench and Starscream.
And Sideswipe and the three strangers he’d brought with him.
“I’m sorry,” Sideswipe said, instantly losing the harsh glare to his optics, and the rigid lines of his armor. He softened, arms unfolding, and he moved toward Sunstreaker slowly, but with purpose. “I know my coming here today is a surprise, but I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to know the truth.”
“About what?” Sunstreaker asked, fearing that he already know.
Sideswipe’s gaze flicked to Starscream before returning to Sunstreaker again. His free hand landed against his chestplate. “I know you wanted to keep what happened between us a secret, but it left me unsettled.” He paused, looking distant. “Unsettled in a way I’ve never felt before. I sought out the advice of my personal medic.” His free hand gestured to the mech in bright white armor behind him. “And what he found left me with more questions than answers.”
Wrench moved up beside Sunstreaker. “Frequency of a shared spark?” he asked gruffly.
The medic jerked his head in a nod. “Precisely.”
Wrench sighed.
“A shared spark?” Starscream repeated. He glanced between Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. “Wait. I don’t understand. What the frag does that mean?” He looked… he looked hurt, and Sunstreaker longed to comfort him.
It was all his fault. This truth he didn’t know. This truth he didn’t realize was out there.
“Sprocket believes I merged with my twin,” Sideswipe explained, and a spark of joy danced in his optics. He was within reach now, and he lifted his hands in an aborted gesture when Sunstreaker unconsciously stepped back from him. “It was a surprise to me, too. I didn’t know I had a twin. It’s a weird turn of events, and if my caretakers were alive, I’d ask them about it.”
“M-merged?” Starscream echoed. He paled and stumbled backward, his field radiating hurt.
Sunstreaker looked at the ground. “I don’t have a twin,” he said. “But I also don’t have an explanation for what happened either.”
“It’s a simple scan, Sunstreaker.” Sprocket rose from his couch. He was a small medic, in comparison to Wrench, and his shiny armor was almost blinding. It had never been touched by rust or scratch.
Thus was the evidence of the wealthy.
“It’ll only take a moment to compare your spark frequencies,” Sprocket added with a smile Sunstreaker supposed was meant to be reassuring.
It wasn’t.
He’d spent far too much of his life with medics poking and prodding at him, trying to find out what was wrong with him, until Sunstreaker stopped going to his appointments. There was no solution, no cure. He learned to live with it instead, and never trusted another medic, until he met Wrench.
A heavy hand rested gently on his shoulder. “It really is just a scan,” Wrench rumbled. “No different than what I do every week.” His field touched Sunstreaker’s with a brush of comfort. “I can perform it myself if you want.”
He didn’t dare look at Starscream.
Sunstreaker nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak either.
Wrench patted him on the shoulder and looked past him. “Will that satisfy your lawyers?”
Sideswipe looked at Sunstreaker, and maybe he could read the hesitation, the fear in his optics, because he nodded. “It’s enough for me, and that’s what matters.” He gestured to his medic again. “Sprocket has the proper scanner.”
“I know how to use it.” Wrench leveraged past Sunstreaker, nearly twice Sprocket’s size, a rusty mech as intimidating as he was gentle. “Might not look it, but I graduated top of my class.”
“Back in the beginning of time? With Primus and Adaptus maybe?” Sideswipe asked with a teasing grin, probably trying to interject some levity into the tense moment.
Wrench snorted a laugh. “Maybe a graduating class or two behind them.” He grinned and reached for the scanner Sprocket had to offer. “Oh, the stories I could tell you, sparkling.”
Sideswipe chuckled. “Maybe sometime after this is solved, yeah? Something tells me you know all kinds of interesting things.”
Wrench gave him a look before he patted Sideswipe on the shoulder, much to the stiffening of the mech bristling with weaponry standing next to Sprocket. “I like you, bitlet. We’ll see.”
Sunstreaker snuck a glance at Starscream, but his Seeker had drawn inward. His wings drooped, his arms folding tight over his chassis. He kept peering at Sideswipe before staring at the ground again.
He didn’t look at Sunstreaker.
Was this the moment he lost Starscream?
Or worse.
Maybe he never had his Seeker to start.
