TITLE: Fragile Tensions
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
SUMMARY: Sunstreaker arrives on Earth. 'Nuff said.

That he had made it to this strange and organic world had been pure happenstance coupled with the amazing work done by the Junkions. Sunstreaker had woken on a cold and lonely battlefield, his armor blown to pieces, most of his systems crashing wildly, his spark flickering, and he had had no idea where he truly was. It wasn’t Tyger Pax any more. He must have managed to get to this place – wherever – and then his systems had collapsed.

Crawling, stumbling and limping over dead shells and through ruins, Sunstreaker had been plagued by wavering vision, severe balance problems, and continued systems blows. The sky had been burning, the ground a charred ruin. Cities had disappeared in chasms, bomb craters had replaced roads, and wildfires had threatened every survivor.

Nothing had survived of the once proud and beautiful structures of Cybertron.

Sunstreaker had collapsed in the ruins of what had been a hangar, between the skeletons of burned-out shuttles. He had stared through the open roof, into the orange and yellow sky where lighting had flickered through the clouds of fire.

A mech called Detritus had found him. Sunstreaker had never seen a Junkion before, but he hadn’t care who the mech was, just that he wasn’t a Decepticon. The few basic repairs Detritus had done had helped him already.

The next time he was truly on-line had been on Junkion, far away from Cybertron, with no clue as to how Detritus had got him here – and why. Wreck-Gar, who seemed to be something of a tribe leader of these strange mechs, had welcomed him. And they had repaired him.

Sunstreaker had needed some time to get a grip on the changed situation, especially when he had been told by Wreck-Gar that Cybertron was apparently dead. No other mechs had been found alive in his vicinity, but he had insisted to go back.

They had dropped him off, with best wishes, and then left once more.

He had searched the battlefields, had tried to find his twin, but of Sideswipe there had been no trace. He had run into a few survivors, lost souls, traumatized and shy of anyone approaching them, and in the end Sunstreaker had left Cybertron once more.

His arrival on Earth had been in the middle of the Australian night, following the signal of Optimus Prime, and his orders to head for the deserts of the largest island on Earth. He had been greeted by Arcee and Prowl.

The relief and joy at seeing his former team leader had nearly overwhelmed the traumatized mech. Sunstreaker had tried to think of his team as alive, but with time passing by, he had lost hope more and more. Now her he was, Prowl, alive and well, his usual stoic and distant self. It had been overwhelming.

And then he had been told about Sideswipe.

Sunstreaker had felt his spark come alive once more and when he was finally at Nevada, he had truly found his brother again. Sunstreaker had felt his twin’s absence in a way. He had first thought the darkness was just that: darkness. It was the trauma of the war, waking up half-dead and dying, being repaired by Junkions, and travelling the galaxies to find his twin and the rest of the Autobots. Now he knew that he had also missed half of his spark.

Briefings were filled with surprise and suspicions on Sunstreaker’s side, but he had to accept the changes. Getting used to humans was… difficult, but he managed. Getting accustomed to the changed humans, especially the one with the Allspark skin, had been not as easy.

All that paled when Sideswipe told him about sharing with a Constructicon. A former Decepticon. A former slave and drone and pawn, as Sideswipe had added. Scavenger and the other four Constructicons had never sided with Megatron; they had been forced by Shockwave’s Modulator.

“It feels good,” Sideswipe simply said when he told him about the sharing.

Sunstreaker had felt at a complete loss hearing this. “He’s a Decepticon!” he blurted.

Blue optics in a face similar to his flared furiously. “No. He’s a Constructicon and an ally. He never served Megatron. None of them did.”

“He used you,” Sunstreaker growled.

Sideswipe shook his head. “If anything, I used him. I couldn’t stand feeling like this. He offered and I took. A lot.”

Sunstreaker studied the silver form of his twin. He trusted in his judgment, he just couldn’t fathom sharing with another mech. He had never felt the need.

No, he didn’t really understand. Nor did he understand how a bond could exist between Jazz and Barricade. Sure, before the war there had been no sides and ‘Autobot’ or ‘Decepticon’ hadn’t existed. Sure, a shock trooper and a saboteur specialist like Jazz were very much alike. But that a bond could exist between two mechs serving different commanders? How had Jazz managed? How could Optimus Prime have trusted the silver mech to even make him First Lieutenant?!

It was more than his processor could handle right now.

Maybe that was why Sideswipe returned to his sharing partner; a Decepticon pawn.

It gave Sunstreaker a strange jab in his systems, which had nothing to do with anger.

“Accept it or don’t,” Sideswipe told him harshly. “I did what I felt was right. I survived! As did you!”

“I didn’t start sharing with the enemy, selling myself to his pleasure!”

It got him a blow to the chest that had rattled his systems and he knew he had deserved it. At least now he did, hours later.

Sharing wasn’t selling yourself. It was a voluntary connection between two mechs. Scavenger wouldn’t have been able to force this on his twin, Sunstreaker understood.

But why had Sideswipe sought out a Constructicon? Why not one of the Autobots?

And why was he so prickly about it? Why defend his choices so furiously? Why defend the other mech?

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

He threw himself into finding out about the Constructicons, about Scavenger, and it drew the attention of Sam Witwicky. Sunstreaker had tried to keep out of the way of the alien beings he didn’t understand, who were so much smaller, lived such short lives, and easily damaged or off-lined. Optimus had told him that the humans were not to be underestimated. Sunstreaker had simply nodded, but he hadn’t approached them in any way.

Now Sam was looking at him with an expression that said that he knew something was going on and Sunstreaker wondered how much the technopath usually read.

“I’m not snooping around in your head,” the human answered the unspoken question. “I’m simply noticing strong emotions or surges. Like yours lately.”

Sunstreaker scowled. “None of your business, human.”

“The name is Sam, mech,” was the sharp reply. “And it is my business. Especially if it concerns not only you, but also your twin. Sideswipe survived your absence, the very real possibility that you had off-lined, and he clawed himself out of this abyss. Scavenger helped. It’s all he ever did. There are no nether reasons to sharing. Even if you never had a partner, you should know that Scavenger could never have forced himself on Sideswipe.”

Sunstreaker glared at the human.

“Get over it, Sunstreaker,” Sam said levelly. “Sideswipe took what he needed after it was voluntarily offered. He survived.”

The Autobot stared hard, then turned and stalked away.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

When Sideswipe came back two days later, he appeared calm and balanced. Sunstreaker watched him darkly. He knew where he had been. Yuma. The Constructicon base. With Scavenger.

He cornered his twin later that evening. Sideswipe looked defensive and tense, like he was a second away from releasing his blades.

“I want to know,” Sunstreaker said matter-of-factly.

“Know what?”

“What it’s like.”

Sideswipe blinked. He was clearly stunned. “You want to meet Scavenger?” he then clarified.

“Yes.”

“And then what?”

Sunstreaker smiled. “We’ll see?”

Sideswipe was silent, just looking at him. Sunstreaker had never noticed how grounded his twin suddenly seemed, like he had received something Sunstreaker wasn’t privy to.

And he wanted it. He wanted to know and maybe more.

“Sides,” he said, trying for calm. “This is new. For me, at least. I never fathomed… you would share with someone.”

“You thought we would share?” his twin exclaimed.

“No!” Sunstreaker was somehow disgusted. He couldn’t think of being that close to his brother. It was enough to be who they were, as they were. “I just… We were always… unique.”

“Still are,” was the easy reply, coupled with a crooked grin. “Twins. Nothing can change that. One spark. You’re still my brother and always will be.”

“Now with an addition?”

Sideswipe shrugged. “We’ll see?” he echoed the words from before.

Sunstreaker nodded. “We’ll see.”

He wanted to know more, what this was about, and slowly the notion to experience it himself made itself known.

He clasped his brother’s offered hand and squeezed it, then pulled him into a half-hug.

“We’re good,” he said softly.

Sideswipe nodded. “Always were.” He grinned. “You’re still a sociopath and an idiot.”

“And since we’re twins, so are you.”

It got Sunstreaker a laugh. He grinned more, glad to have found his brother again, glad they were both alive and functional. He would handle this, too. He would see what happened now.