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Skywarp hurried down the street, hugging textbooks to his chest. His satchel bounced at his side he walked. Each thwack of the satchel against his thigh rustled the papers inside. He prayed it hadn’t broken his pen, but there was no time to check. Not with two papers to finish, an exam looming and his first deadline for the thesis, oh god the thesis—
Stop! he thought over the ache in his helm. This is fine! I can do this, okay? I’ll just be a little busy tonight... and tomorrow... and the day after that...
Skywarp would’ve whimpered if he weren’t so out of breath.
He weaved around passerby, panting. Flapper dresses and tuxedos swept by him, along with the occasional flash of sequins. He heard people whisper the names of nightclubs and speakeasies as he brushed past. That, and the sun sinking behind buildings heralded the onset of twilight. His feet quickened their pace over the sidewalk.
The sky bled red and gold when he reached his apartment building. He burst inside and climbed the stairs two steps at a time. Seeing his door, he fumbled one-handed in a pocket for his keys—
Wait. It’s... it’s already open?
His door was ajar by the slightest crack. Skywarp’s breath caught. I thought I locked it when I left this morning! I swear I did! How could I forget something so simple? Unless — unless I didn’t forget...
A floorboard creaked. Not in the hall, but behind the door.
...and somebody broke in.
He flattened himself against the wall. Shaky hands lowered his textbooks to the floor. His mind wailed a litany of why me, why me?! The possible answer to that question worsened the nervous churning in his stomach.
No, don’t think about that! he told himself. Especially not the family’s business. Focus, Skywarp. Focus! Assess the situation!
His feet inched over the carpet, creeping closer to the door. Shoulders trembling, he squeezed his optics shut. I’m going to look in five, four, three, t-two—
The door banged wide open. Skywarp startled so hard he fell over, screaming.
“Oh, for — ‘Warp. ‘Warp! Look at me!”
“H-huh...?” He peeked out between his fingers.
Slipstream leaned in his doorframe, peering out from under the brim of her fedora. She wore her usual violet jazz suit, pale blue tie and sardonic smirk. “Still as jumpy as ever, aren’t you.”
“Wh— why were you in — wait, how were you in my apartment?!” Skywarp sputtered, goggling at her.
“What does it look like? I picked the lock.”
He buried his face in his hands again. “Slipstream—”
She shrugged. “I got bored waiting for you to let me in, so I did it myself. You should know me by now, ‘Warp.”
“I — I do! It’s just, I didn’t know if it was you or a burglar or s-someone who, uh, is a business associate of yours, or—“
“An associate?” Her voice hardened. Skywarp looked up in time to see her smirk vanish. “They haven’t been bothering you, have they?”
“N-no! Nobody from, uh, the business has come to see me. I didn’t say anything to anyone about them, either.“
“Alright. A good thing, too, or I’d have to pay a few visits myself.”
Skywarp winced, but nodded. As he tried to get his wobbly legs underneath him, Slipstream stepped forward. She grabbed him by the forearms and pulled him upright. “There. Now, let’s get this sibling visit properly underway.”
Oh, right... the visit. I almost forgot. He scooped up his textbooks. “If I knew you were coming, I could have cooked dinner for the both of us.”
“You?” Slipstream snorted. She slid past him and through the door, tossing words over her shoulder. “The last time you cooked, you almost set the stove on fire. While boiling water.”
Skywarp scrambled after her. “H-hey! I still made the pasta eventually ! And everyone liked it, didn’t they?”
“...it was good linguini. Good enough for even Thundercracker’s ego, the fragger.”
“S-Slipstream!”
“It’s true. Seriously, if he liked someone’s cooking other than his own, it was the best meal you ever made for us.”
“At... at least my last was my best, then.”
Slipstream stopped mid-step. “Yes,” she said after a long pause.
Silence descended on the two of them. Neither made optic-contact as Skywarp dropped his textbooks and Slipstream removed her hat. They edged around each other, his satchel rustling until he remembered to take it off. He fiddled with its leather strap. “I can fix something,” he murmured to it. “Sandwiches and tea, maybe?”
“...fine. But let me help.”
“I can do it on my—“
“I know you can. Just — I want to, alright?”
Skywarp knew it was the closest to a “please” he’d hear from her. So, he pulled a block of cheese out of his icebox. Their optics met as he placed it in her palm. “Thank you.”
Slipstream scoffed, but she closed her fingers around it all the same.
Soon, they worked side by side in his kitchen. He sliced bread while she sliced cheese; he boiled water and she found tea bags in the back of his cupboards. She raised an optic ridge at the box. “Lavender? Doesn’t that make you sleepy?”
“...it does.”
“You’re having trouble sleeping?”
“Um...”
A hand grabbed his chin, tilting his face away from the bread. As he sputtered, Slipstream looked him over with a furrowed brow. “You’ve got bags under your optics.”
“I-it’s nothing, really!”
“What‘s keeping you up?” Slipstream asked, but the kettle whistled. Skywarp jumped before jerking his chin out of her grasp. He fanned steam away from the kettle’s spout and ignored her stare.
“So, h-how’s the family?” he deflected, his voice too bright to be convincing.
Slipstream braced her hands on the countertop anyways, sighing. “Well, Starscream still extorts the Pit out of his clients. He has at least ten different schemes in the works, too.”
Skywarp turned off the stove. “That... sounds like him. You won’t—?”
“I don’t just let him do stupid stuff, alright? It’s his thick helm that gets in the way. I need a club to bash some sense into him.”
“I know. I only worry he’ll reach too far and get hurt.”
“Good thing he can’t hear you. He’d say you gave up the right to worry when—“
“Slipstream,” he mumbled, shuttering his optics. “I know.”
“...oh. Right. Slag, ‘Warp. I’m—“
He waved her off, his optics still closed. “It’s fine. Just... what about the others?”
Slipstream shuffled her feet. After a moment, she continued, “Thundercracker likes cracking his knuckles. I think he thinks it makes him look threatening, but it’s just slagging annoying.”
“Does he try to do it with his brass knuckles on?”
“Oh, Primus—“ She snorted mid-sentence, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “The look on his face when he forgets. It’s — it’s like — wait, look at me!”
Skywarp cracked his optics open to see Slipstream’s bug-eyed expression. He burst into startled laughter, making her wheeze as well. Optics watering, he coughed, “And Sunstorm? Ramjet? How are they doing?”
Slipstream chuckled, pulling tea cups out of the cupboard. “One’s still a bootlicker and the other still lies like there’s no tomorrow. Thundercracker despairs over how they’re no good except as muscle.”
“M-muscle? You mean—?”
“I don’t think you really want to know, do you?”
“...no.”
“Good.” Slipstream patted him on the shoulder again. “Now, I’m famished. You?”
Skywarp nodded. After closing their sandwiches, he carried them to his kitchen table. Slipstream followed with two steaming cups of lavender tea, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t know how you can stand the smell of this.”
“You get used to it,” Skywarp defended himself, shrugging.
“How much have you gotten used to it?”
“...Slipstream—“
A finger jabbed at his face. “I mean it! You look like you’re not sleeping—”
“Can we please do this later? I haven’t eaten since noon today!”
”What do you—?”
A growl from Skywarp’s stomach cut her off. He blushed. “That’s what I mean.”
Slipstream lowered her finger. “Fine,” she grumbled. “But don’t think you’ve wriggled out of this one, ‘Warp! We’re talking as soon as you finish eating.”
“It’s not a big deal!” he stammered, sitting down at the table.
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
Sighing through his nose, Skywarp bit into his sandwich and chewed. It was no linguini, but it was food. He took bigger and bigger bites as he ate, almost wolfing it down. Slipstream ate slower and scrunched up her face at her first sip of tea. Still, she managed to find time to stare at him over the rim of her cup.
The second Skywarp cleared his plate, Slipstream smacked a palm on the table. “Alright. Something’s keeping you awake at night.”
He sighed, setting his teacup down on the saucer. “It’s not much of anything, really. I’m just... anxious.”
“And water is wet. You need to be more specific, ‘Warp.”
“Okay, okay.” Skywarp bit his lip. “I guess I’m... overwhelmed. Law school is a lot, even more than I thought it would be.”
“Didn’t you say that last year, and the year before—?”
“I know I did! But this is more work than those years combined, and I know it’s only going to get even harder! And I’m just so busy and trying to find time for everything—”
Slipstream held up a hand, frowning. “Stop right there. Remind me what your grades are again?”
“...I’m getting As and Bs.”
“Exactly. You’re probably getting better grades than most of your class, ‘Warp. Primus knows you earn them more than Starscream ever did, for that matter. You’re doing great.”
“But it might not stay that way when it gets harder! What if I fall behind? What if I... if I’m not cut out for it?”
“For being a lawyer, you mean?”
Skywarp nodded, rubbing at his temples. “I... I know I can’t back out now. Not after training for so long and... well.” He swallowed hard. “I made my choices. I just... I don’t know if they w-were the right ones.”
Slipstream peeled his hand away from his face. When his vision blurred, he realized he was on the verge of tears. He blinked them back as she squeezed his hand. “What makes you think they’re not right?” she asked, softer than he’d ever heard her.
“I... I ruined our family to do this.” He thought back to that fateful, and final, Sunday dinner.
Skywarp twisted his napkin. “E-everyone? I have an announcement to make.”
All around the dining table, his family looked up from their plates of linguini. Starscream gestured with a pasta-speared fork. “Well? Let’s hear it.”
“I’ve decided to be a lawyer.”
Thundercracker threw up his arms with a sudden whoop. “Ha! Pay up, losers!”
Starscream, Sunstorm and Ramjet fished bills out of their pockets. Grumbling, they shoved them at Thundercracker. Slipstream rolled her optics at the unfolding scene.
“W-wait! You all bet on whether I’d become a lawyer?” Skywarp stammered.
“I didn’t,” Slipstream sniffed. “Unlike some of us, I had to do actual work.”
“Your loss,” Thundercracker crowed, folding the bills into a neat pile. “I made twice your week’s salary just now, so there!”
“Shut up. ‘Warp, what kind of lawyer do you want to be?”
“Criminal... or maybe civil. I’m not sure yet,” he murmured, shifting in his seat.
Starscream steepled his hands on the lace tablecloth. “Oh, you have plenty of time to decide. I’d be even happier if you followed in my footsteps, of course, but I’m certain you could be of use to us regardless.”
“Um—“
“Now, it’s just a matter of setting you up. Name the school and I’ll see to it that your application makes it to the top!”
“Oh, uh, I already applied to the school you attended. They accepted.”
“Even better! All I need is a discreet chat with the same administrators, and you’ll have a quick and easy ride to graduating—“
Skywarp squared his shoulders. “I d-don’t want any loopholes, actually.”
Starscream frowned. “But that will slow your education track considerably. The sooner you graduate, the sooner you can join my practice and help with the—“
“No.”
“...’no’ what, exactly?”
“I... I’m not joining the Decepticons.”
Silence fell over the table. There was no sound but the ticking of the grandfather clock in the living room.
“You’re not?” Thundercracker asked at last.
“I—“
“Why?!” Sunstorm demanded. “The Decepticons are a glorious organization, with plenty of opportunities for—!”
“They aren’t!” Skywarp blurted. “Everyone here knows what the Decepticons do, what all of you do for them! And I... I just c-can’t do those things, opportunity or not.”
It was Ramjet’s turn to roll his optics. “Pfft! Don’t tell me! You’re having a crisis of conscience, or some slag.”
Skywarp didn’t reply.
“You... are you actually having a crisis? Are you serious?!”
“I think he is,” Thundercracker said, dumbfounded. Sunstorm gasped.
Slipstream looked between all of them, rapping her knuckles on the table. “Whoa, whoa. We definitely need to talk about this — and we will — but this isn’t how. Everyone needs to—“
Starscream’s fork dug so hard into the table it snapped.
Skywarp gave a full-body flinch. “I... Starscream, I’m—“
“Don’t. You. Dare,” Starscream hissed. “After everything we’ve done for you, after everything I’ve done for us, you can’t bear to get your little hands dirty? Are you scared you won’t be able to wash them clean? I bet that’s what it is.”
”Yeah,” Ramjet sneered. “You could never stop whining, could you?”
“I...” Skywarp stuttered, his shoulders trembling. “I’m not—”
“Don’t deny it, brother,” Sunstorm spat. “It has made you all the weaker.”
“B-but—!”
“This is our family, Skywarp! The business is our family!” Starscream exploded. He braced his palms on the table, pushing himself out of his chair. “We vowed to be together, until the end of the line! Are you breaking that promise?”
“N-no! I don’t want to! I just...” Skywarp squeezed his optics shut, fisting the napkin in his lap. “I don’t understand why the Decepticons mean so much to you, but I... I know now I can’t change that. I won’t try. All I w-want is for you to do the same f-for me with this. Please...”
Starscream loomed over him for a moment, silent. Then he turned on his heel and stalked towards the living room.
“W-wait! I—”
“I’ll have nothing to do with cowards,” he snapped, not even looking over his shoulder.
“S-Starscream! Please, I—!”
“You made your choice,” Sunstorm said. “And so have we.” He and Ramjet shoved back from the table, leaving the room as well.
Thundercracker growled low in his throat. “So we’re not good enough for you? Am I not good enough for your presence?” he demanded, standing up.
“N-no! I just — I can’t do—”
A hand grabbed him by the shirt collar. “Don’t give me that slag!”
“Thundercracker.” Slipstream shot to her feet, her voice frosty. “Put him down. Now.”
“But—“
“You heard me.”
Thundercracker dropped him. Skywarp landed hard on his tailbone, gasping. He received a final dirty look before his brother swept out of the room. Looking up from his place on the carpet, he saw Slipstream’s face. She bit down on her lower lip and shuttered her optics. Then her fist slammed into the table, rattling the silverware.
Skywarp came out of his recollection shaking all over. “I took myself away from everyone. I-it was selfish and h-horrible of me to do,” he whispered.
It took him a moment to realize Slipstream was shaking her helm. “No. You didn’t take yourself away, or some slag. They pushed you out. That was on them, ‘Warp.”
“But—”
“I was sad and angry at first, and I still don’t understand it, but I understand this means a lot to you. Our idiot brothers couldn’t be bothered to do even that! Tell me how that’s your fault, ‘Warp. Try me.”
Skywarp traced lines in the wood of the tabletop with his fingernail. He opened and closed his mouth a few times. After a minute, his shoulders relaxed. “...I can’t.”
“Exactly.”
“I still miss them all, in a way,” he admitted. “I miss Sunday dinner and making it for everyone. I miss all of the noise and chaos. It’s too quiet here, without all of you.”
“For what it’s worth...” Slipstream trailed off, fiddling with her cufflinks. “I miss you at home, too. I miss your cooking and — and everything.”
Skywarp started tearing up again. “Slipstream...”
“Shut up. I’m not good at this sentimental slag, alright?”
“It’s always good enough for me.”
“Gah! Don’t you make me cry, or I’ll stab you with the butter knife!”
Skywarp let out a weak chuckle. He dabbed at his optics with a handkerchief, sniffling. He pretended not to notice Slipstream doing the same. “I just... I keep thinking of what Starscream said at that last meal.”
She stiffened. “Which thing? He said lots of things then.”
“The bit about how I was a coward. I... I don’t feel like a coward for what I chose. Not anymore. But I don’t think he was wrong, either.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know me, Slipstream. I — I’m nervous, every day and all the time. I’m scared about tests. I’m scared of the future. I’m scared of myself because I don’t know if I can be who I want to be! If I’m such a coward, am I really cut out to be a lawyer?”
“‘Warp. You spoke up at a table full of Deceptions, and told them all ‘no.’ You refused to join the mob because there was something more important to you. That’s nothing to sneeze at.”
“I — I was terrified the whole time!”
“But didn’t you do it anyways?”
“W-well... yes, but—“
“Then you didn’t let your fear stop you. There’s a name for that, ‘Warp. It’s called slagging bravery!”
Skywarp worked his jaw a few times, blinking. “Oh...”
“So for Primus’ sake, quit calling yourself a coward!“
“I... I never thought about it like that before.”
Slipstream leaned over the table. “Then frag Screamer, and frag the lot of them. They’re wrong and I’m right. I don’t want to hear you say that about yourself ever again.”
“You... you know what?” Skywarp raised his helm. “I don’t think you will.”
“About fragging time.” Slipstream snatched up her teacup and took a big, defiant slurp. She glared at him over the rim, but her growing smile ruined the effect. Skywarp took a moment to cherish the rare sight of his sister smiling. Not smirking or sneering, but smiling. He committed it to memory before smiling back.
Then, the clock chimed seven times, starting both of them. Slipstream lowered her teacup. “They’re expecting me across town soon.”
“O-oh.” Skywarp leaned back in his chair. “Uh, don’t worry about the dishes. I can take care of them.”
“You, telling me not to worry? Here comes the end of the world,” she snorted. Still, she pushed back her chair and stood, pulling her fedora on. Skywarp reached for their plates, only for her to grab him by the wrist. “Hey. I meant what I said today, alright?”
“I know,” he murmured. “And thanks. I really needed to hear it. All of it.”
“That’s why I said it. But seriously...” She squeezed his wrist, meeting his optics from under the brim of her fedora. “After facing all of us down, you can do anything. Don’t let yourself think otherwise.”
“...I won’t. And Slipstream?”
“Hm?”
He placed his other hand over hers. “If... if it was their fault for pushing me out, it wasn’t yours.”
Her fingers tensed underneath his hand. For a long while, Slipstream didn’t say anything. Then she said, “You think?”
“I do. I’m not mad at you, so why should you be mad at yourself?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Lots of reasons? Like, not convincing them we could still be a family? That you didn’t have to go it alone?”
He shrugged. “I have you. And it’s like you said: frag the lot of them.”
Slipstream looked up at him, startled. It took a moment for a slow grin to spread across her face. “Heh. I always thought you were the quickest on the uptake.”
Skywarp let go of her hand, blushing. After a final squeeze, she released his wrist. They stood together in awkward, but not unpleasant silence. Slipstream broke it by clearing her throat. “Well. See you around sometime soon?”
He grinned. “I’ll try to have real pasta ready that time.”
“I’ll hold you to that. Until next time, ‘Warp.”
“Goodbye, Slipstream. Be safe!”
“No promises!” she shot back, closing the door behind her.
He chuckled after her. As he cleared the dishes from the table, he spotted his textbooks piled up in a nearby armchair. He didn’t feel a knot of doubt and insecurity build in his throat at the sight. He took a deep breath. Again, and with more feeling, he told himself, I can do this.
And this time, he believed it.