TITLE: Compensating
SERIES: Imperfection Deviation – Off Balance
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, sadly. They are owned by people with a lot more money :)
FEEDBACK: Loved



The Ark was a gigantic construction, far larger than the original ship had ever been. The Constructicons had added in mass and size and defense capacities, and with only a small core crew it was mostly dark and silent.

Sideswipe stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling transparent wall that showed him the Moon below. The area he was in was part of the semi-circular structure that curved around the station and which was completely deserted. Everyone currently aboard – Perceptor, Hook and Scavenger – was somewhere else. Blaster was expected to drop by tomorrow.

Gazing at the world outside, the alien world, he wondered what he was doing here. Perceptor didn’t need him. He wasn’t a scientist. The station didn’t need a warrior, nor did it need someone to lend a helping hand. It was perfectly functional.

He had come here to escape the stifling confines of the base. Nevada was too crowded for Sideswipe; Arctic had Prowl breathing down his neck – to use a human saying; Australia was still under construction and Blades’ attitude grated on Sideswipe’s nerves. So he had taken the latest delivery ride with the Ghost-3 to the Ark.

Bowman and the Ghost had left an hour ago.

Sideswipe had gone for a walk.

Instead of clearing his processor, more things had started to clutter it. He was thinking too much about what had happened lately and even more about what it meant.

Like Scavenger.

It was wrong! It was wrong to use and be used. Though Sideswipe believed he was doing a lot more using than being used. He wasn’t abusing, he knew. Still…

He clenched his hands into fists and hissed a Cybertronian curse.

“You think too much, Autobot,” a well-known voice told him.

He whirled around, almost releasing his swords. Sideswipe marginally relaxed when he realized who had interrupted his musings. Then again, he had almost felt the other coming.

“Why aren’t you?” he retorted angrily.

Scavenger shrugged. “What we share is perfectly acceptable.”

“It isn’t! Twins don’t bond!”

“I never said anything about a bond.”

“We also never share with another mech!”

Scavenger gave an electronic sigh and leaned against the opposite wall. “Your brother isn’t here and you need feedback, Sideswipe. Twin bonds are largely unknown and unexplored. I believe that the connection between you serves as positive echoes, like feedback, to ease your split sparks. Without the feedback, the separation of the spark into two halves is more pronounced.”

Sideswipe glared.

Scavenger smiled faintly. “As for me, I was part of a combiner, forced to think and feel the same as five others. Bonecrusher’s death left us all with a permanent darkness, even after the separation, and the separation itself crippled us. It was preferable to dying slowly, turning into drones.”

“That justifies it all?”

“Do you need justification?”

Sideswipe hissed and turned away.

“You and Sunstreaker are twins. You can’t betray that,” Scavenger added. “You probably won’t ever bond to anyone, and this isn’t a bond, in case you feared it might happen. This is mutual comfort.”

He met the red optics when he glanced at the Constructicon. “Comfort, huh?”

Scavenger shrugged. “It feels good.”

Yes, it did. And it was wrong!

A tiny voice whispered that wrong was different. Wrong would be to find that he could bond with the other mech, but he couldn’t. Twins never would. Split sparks couldn’t.

“Sharing is with no strings attached, Sideswipe,” Scavenger told him. “This is simply to ease the aches.”

Casual. Nothing would ever come of it. Nothing profound was exchanged. Sharing was always casual, he knew. He had known many mechs who had shared and for whom it had been nothing out of the ordinary.

“Does it help?” Scavenger asked openly.

The silver Autobot nodded.

“Then it’s good.”

Wrong, the voice that grew weaker whispered insistently.

Sideswipe ignored it.

Scavenger silently watched him, then simply turned wordlessly and walked away.


x x x x x x x x

Just before Blaster arrived ten Earth hours later, Sideswipe found himself in Scavenger’s quarters, the rush of an interface pushing through his circuits.

He relaxed into the outpouring of energy through his split spark, shivering as for a fraction of a second he was whole. Wrong, but whole. Scavenger couldn’t be the missing half, because his spark was complete. But the Constructicon had been right: it helped, it eased, it lessened the pain. And if he could give Scavenger some peace from the crippling modifications and final separation of a forced combined mind, yes, it wasn’t that much of a wrong. It was compensation.

And it felt good.