Barricaded -- Chapter 11
Title: Barricaded -- Chapter 11
Rating: T
Continuity: AU Movieverse with G1 influences
Warnings: Reprogramming
Chapter 11
Bluestreak was lounging in one of the huge couches in the Rec Room, talking to Sam, when the Twins strode in. They exchanged a grin and moved over to the couch, flinging themselves down on either side of the gunner, making the gray mech yelp. Sam, who was sitting cross-legged on the “coffee” table in front of the couch snickered.
“Hey, Blue!” Sideswipe cheered. “We were just thinking, you're new, you know, so we should get to know you! You know?”
“Sides. Mute it. But like my idiot bro was saying, we thought we should take some time to meet our newest... Autobot?”
Bluestreak stiffened, doorwings thumping against the back of the padded seat. “Right.”
Sideswipe frowned. “What? You don't like us?”
“I don't like our current topic of discussion.”
Sam's easygoing smile was slowly easing into a frown.
“What? You aren't happy as an Autobot?”
“I'm very happy as an Autobot.”
“So what don't you want to talk about?”
Bluestreak scowled and remained silent. Sam pushed himself to his feet. “Hey, lay off him. He's got reasons for keeping quiet. Not everyone is... happy with their pasts.”
Sunstreaker glanced at his brother, then looked back at the human. Sideswipe's frown turned thoughtful.
For a long moment, the Twins stared at the human man. Then they stared at each other, then they nodded.
“Alright. We can understand that. I... we're sorry. Let's... start over?”
Bluestreak nodded stiffly, and Sideswipe grinned.
“Hey. I’m Sideswipe. Autobot frontliner and prankster. This is my twin, Sunny. Autobot frontliner and psychopath.”
“Don't call me that. And I’m not a psychopath!”
“Whatever you say, Sunshine.”
The yellow Twin rumbled lowly, and Bluestreak pressed himself into the couch. Sunstreaker, noticing Bluestreak's backwards movement, leaned back and forced his engine to settle. “Sorry.”
“It's... it's alright.”
“What the frag is going on here?” a smooth tenor growled, and the Twins jerked around to stare at the door. Smokescreen was standing just inside the Rec Room, doorwings splayed, engine rumbling threateningly.
Bluestreak hurriedly stood up and rushed around the couch, standing in front of the Twins. “They were just apologizing, Smokes. It's fine. I’ve got it.”
“Apologizing for what, Blue?”
Another glance was exchanged between the Twins, and they easily vaulted over the back of the couch, stepping up to flank the gunner. “We were... unnecessarily... harsh,” Sunstreaker muttered.
“And... well, Prowl always says we're too inquisitive for our own good. We are sorry, Bluestreak. You don't have to tell us anything you don't want to,” Sideswipe added, shooting Smokescreen an easygoing grin.
“I know,” the gunner said confidently, smirking in a decidedly evil way. “But thank you all the same. Anyways... You introduced yourselves, but I never got the chance. Bluestreak, Autobot sniper and Smokescreen and Prowl's... brother.”
“Ha! I told you, Sunny!”
“Don't call me that. And I never said he wasn't!”
Smokescreen was blinking rapidly. “Okay, um, I’m just gonna go now. You two be nice, and Blue, comm me if you... need me.”
“I doubt I will, Smokes, but okay.”
.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
Time passed quickly. More Autobots arrived. Mikaela and Sam had another child, a young girl they named Ariel. She was the bane of her brother Daniel's existence. The Decepticons attacked regularly, and the Autobots kept up a constant duty rotation so that someone was always on call to attack.
The Twins kept their promise, and didn't dig much into Bluestreak's history. Even if they had, though, they wouldn't have found anything.
Instead, they made friends with him. At first, it was simple curiosity. After those initial first days, he talked as much around them as he did anyone. They were sure he'd let something slip eventually, and so started spending time with him.
They were amazed, though, when they really listened, because, despite the amount of words that spilled from his vocalizer, he said surprisingly little. He could chatter on and on for hours without interruption and not actually say a single thing.
But even as they spent time listening to him chatter on and on, trying to pick out details of his rather obscure past, they found that they genuinely enjoyed his company. If someone else was talking, he would stop and listen. But if nothing was being said, he would fill up the silence with friendly babbling.
And he watched their backs in battle, better than anyone had before. He never missed, never accidentally hit them, and always knew who he had to take out and who they already had handled.
They were a deadly team.
.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
Bluestreak's finger slowly tightened on the trigger, and another 'Con, the one who had been trying to sneak up behind the Twins, fell.
::Thanks!:: Sideswipe grunted as he landed another punch on the midsection of the Decepticon in front of him, having heard the sharp crack of the gun, even if he hadn't seen who had fallen.
::No problem. 'Con on your seven, Sunny.::
::Don't! Call! Me! That!:: the yellow frontliner growled as he clawed at a blue 'Con, ripping off armor and internals with each word, then whirled to attack the Decepticon the gunner had pointed out.
Bluestreak just smiled faintly and turned his gun, searching for another target.
Wait.
Vibrations...
Too close. Someone coming up behind him!
With a growl, he dropped the gun and stood, whirling around to tackle the mech sneaking up on him.
The Decepticon's optics flared and his armor clamped shut in surprise. Bluestreak barely registered that as his claws extended. With a snarl, he tore into the mech, swiping and ripping through armor, wires, and tubing.
::Bluestreak? Blue!:: one of the Twins, or maybe both of them, he wasn't really sure, called over the comm.
Bluestreak just snarled as he froze, poised with his energon-stained claws hovering over the Decepticon's barely covered spark chamber.
.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
Sunstreaker saw the flurry of movement from the corner of his optics. With a growl, he tore the helm off his current opponent and whirled around. Where had it...? The hill. Bluestreak.
~Sides!~
::Bluestreak!:: the red Twin called, easily disposed of the mech he was - had been - fighting.
::Blue!::
As one, red and yellow raced up the hill, catapulting themselves over it, ready to tear into the mech that had injured Bluestreak-
Only to find the gray gunner crouched, cat-like, on top of the Decepticon's chassis, armor, wires, and energon spattered on the ground around them, deadly sharp claws ripping into the Decepticon's spark chamber.
There was a flicker as the spark was torn from the 'Con's chest, and Bluestreak sat back.
“Wha-?” Sideswipe started, blinking rapidly, and Bluestreak whirled around, claws extended again.
A tense moment passed as they all remained frozen in place. Then the gunner slowly lowered his hands and stood up, movements fluid and easy. He said nothing as he moved back up the hill toward his gun, picked it up, and turned back around.
“You weren't supposed to see that,” he said quietly as he stopped, still a ways away from the Twins. They just stared at him.
~Damn, Sunny... Dunno if I woulda said this before, but... Li'l Boy Blue looks good~
~Yeah. Never knew he could fight like that.~
~What, and you think I did? Frag...~
Bluestreak stood in front of them, gun held comfortably, pointed at the sky. His doorwings flared wide behind his back, twitching and vibrating. His optics were unnaturally bright, closer to white than blue. His armor was spattered with energon.
“Frag, Blue,” Sideswipe managed, optics wide.
The gray gunner shook his helm, doorwings twitching, and turned. The Twins watched, still stunned, as he stalked down the hill, away from them.
Rating: T
Continuity: AU Movieverse with G1 influences
Warnings: Reprogramming
Chapter 11
Bluestreak was lounging in one of the huge couches in the Rec Room, talking to Sam, when the Twins strode in. They exchanged a grin and moved over to the couch, flinging themselves down on either side of the gunner, making the gray mech yelp. Sam, who was sitting cross-legged on the “coffee” table in front of the couch snickered.
“Hey, Blue!” Sideswipe cheered. “We were just thinking, you're new, you know, so we should get to know you! You know?”
“Sides. Mute it. But like my idiot bro was saying, we thought we should take some time to meet our newest... Autobot?”
Bluestreak stiffened, doorwings thumping against the back of the padded seat. “Right.”
Sideswipe frowned. “What? You don't like us?”
“I don't like our current topic of discussion.”
Sam's easygoing smile was slowly easing into a frown.
“What? You aren't happy as an Autobot?”
“I'm very happy as an Autobot.”
“So what don't you want to talk about?”
Bluestreak scowled and remained silent. Sam pushed himself to his feet. “Hey, lay off him. He's got reasons for keeping quiet. Not everyone is... happy with their pasts.”
Sunstreaker glanced at his brother, then looked back at the human. Sideswipe's frown turned thoughtful.
For a long moment, the Twins stared at the human man. Then they stared at each other, then they nodded.
“Alright. We can understand that. I... we're sorry. Let's... start over?”
Bluestreak nodded stiffly, and Sideswipe grinned.
“Hey. I’m Sideswipe. Autobot frontliner and prankster. This is my twin, Sunny. Autobot frontliner and psychopath.”
“Don't call me that. And I’m not a psychopath!”
“Whatever you say, Sunshine.”
The yellow Twin rumbled lowly, and Bluestreak pressed himself into the couch. Sunstreaker, noticing Bluestreak's backwards movement, leaned back and forced his engine to settle. “Sorry.”
“It's... it's alright.”
“What the frag is going on here?” a smooth tenor growled, and the Twins jerked around to stare at the door. Smokescreen was standing just inside the Rec Room, doorwings splayed, engine rumbling threateningly.
Bluestreak hurriedly stood up and rushed around the couch, standing in front of the Twins. “They were just apologizing, Smokes. It's fine. I’ve got it.”
“Apologizing for what, Blue?”
Another glance was exchanged between the Twins, and they easily vaulted over the back of the couch, stepping up to flank the gunner. “We were... unnecessarily... harsh,” Sunstreaker muttered.
“And... well, Prowl always says we're too inquisitive for our own good. We are sorry, Bluestreak. You don't have to tell us anything you don't want to,” Sideswipe added, shooting Smokescreen an easygoing grin.
“I know,” the gunner said confidently, smirking in a decidedly evil way. “But thank you all the same. Anyways... You introduced yourselves, but I never got the chance. Bluestreak, Autobot sniper and Smokescreen and Prowl's... brother.”
“Ha! I told you, Sunny!”
“Don't call me that. And I never said he wasn't!”
Smokescreen was blinking rapidly. “Okay, um, I’m just gonna go now. You two be nice, and Blue, comm me if you... need me.”
“I doubt I will, Smokes, but okay.”
.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
Time passed quickly. More Autobots arrived. Mikaela and Sam had another child, a young girl they named Ariel. She was the bane of her brother Daniel's existence. The Decepticons attacked regularly, and the Autobots kept up a constant duty rotation so that someone was always on call to attack.
The Twins kept their promise, and didn't dig much into Bluestreak's history. Even if they had, though, they wouldn't have found anything.
Instead, they made friends with him. At first, it was simple curiosity. After those initial first days, he talked as much around them as he did anyone. They were sure he'd let something slip eventually, and so started spending time with him.
They were amazed, though, when they really listened, because, despite the amount of words that spilled from his vocalizer, he said surprisingly little. He could chatter on and on for hours without interruption and not actually say a single thing.
But even as they spent time listening to him chatter on and on, trying to pick out details of his rather obscure past, they found that they genuinely enjoyed his company. If someone else was talking, he would stop and listen. But if nothing was being said, he would fill up the silence with friendly babbling.
And he watched their backs in battle, better than anyone had before. He never missed, never accidentally hit them, and always knew who he had to take out and who they already had handled.
They were a deadly team.
.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
Bluestreak's finger slowly tightened on the trigger, and another 'Con, the one who had been trying to sneak up behind the Twins, fell.
::Thanks!:: Sideswipe grunted as he landed another punch on the midsection of the Decepticon in front of him, having heard the sharp crack of the gun, even if he hadn't seen who had fallen.
::No problem. 'Con on your seven, Sunny.::
::Don't! Call! Me! That!:: the yellow frontliner growled as he clawed at a blue 'Con, ripping off armor and internals with each word, then whirled to attack the Decepticon the gunner had pointed out.
Bluestreak just smiled faintly and turned his gun, searching for another target.
Wait.
Vibrations...
Too close. Someone coming up behind him!
With a growl, he dropped the gun and stood, whirling around to tackle the mech sneaking up on him.
The Decepticon's optics flared and his armor clamped shut in surprise. Bluestreak barely registered that as his claws extended. With a snarl, he tore into the mech, swiping and ripping through armor, wires, and tubing.
::Bluestreak? Blue!:: one of the Twins, or maybe both of them, he wasn't really sure, called over the comm.
Bluestreak just snarled as he froze, poised with his energon-stained claws hovering over the Decepticon's barely covered spark chamber.
.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
Sunstreaker saw the flurry of movement from the corner of his optics. With a growl, he tore the helm off his current opponent and whirled around. Where had it...? The hill. Bluestreak.
~Sides!~
::Bluestreak!:: the red Twin called, easily disposed of the mech he was - had been - fighting.
::Blue!::
As one, red and yellow raced up the hill, catapulting themselves over it, ready to tear into the mech that had injured Bluestreak-
Only to find the gray gunner crouched, cat-like, on top of the Decepticon's chassis, armor, wires, and energon spattered on the ground around them, deadly sharp claws ripping into the Decepticon's spark chamber.
There was a flicker as the spark was torn from the 'Con's chest, and Bluestreak sat back.
“Wha-?” Sideswipe started, blinking rapidly, and Bluestreak whirled around, claws extended again.
A tense moment passed as they all remained frozen in place. Then the gunner slowly lowered his hands and stood up, movements fluid and easy. He said nothing as he moved back up the hill toward his gun, picked it up, and turned back around.
“You weren't supposed to see that,” he said quietly as he stopped, still a ways away from the Twins. They just stared at him.
~Damn, Sunny... Dunno if I woulda said this before, but... Li'l Boy Blue looks good~
~Yeah. Never knew he could fight like that.~
~What, and you think I did? Frag...~
Bluestreak stood in front of them, gun held comfortably, pointed at the sky. His doorwings flared wide behind his back, twitching and vibrating. His optics were unnaturally bright, closer to white than blue. His armor was spattered with energon.
“Frag, Blue,” Sideswipe managed, optics wide.
The gray gunner shook his helm, doorwings twitching, and turned. The Twins watched, still stunned, as he stalked down the hill, away from them.