Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jetfire and Jetstorm sat in the Autobot lab for yet another check up, squirming slightly as Perceptor poked and prodded at various parts of their frames. 

“Remain still for the examination,” directed the scientist in his emotionless voice as he grabbed at Jetfire’s arm to look over his fire cannons. 

The orange mech sighed, replying with a huff, “Am being sorry, Perceptor sir.” He scowled as, with his petulant reply, an error message popped up in his processor. Again. He and his twin had been dealing with the seemingly random errors pretty much ever since they had been reformatted. And no matter how many self system checks they ran, no obvious cause came up. There was no virus, no code rejection as they had been constantly nagged to check for, nothing out of place. Perceptor never seemed to notice anything wrong, either, because no matter how many times they came in for check-ups to make sure their systems were handling the change to flight frames, they left with the error messages still there. 

~Maybe this will be the solar cycle we fix this,~ suggested Jetstorm optimistically over their twin bond. 

~Yeah, right,~ scoffed Jetfire back skeptically.

~Well, it’ll never be fixed with that attitude,~ retorted his blue twin. Jetfire merely stuck out his tongue at the argument, while Perceptor looked on unamused, releasing the mech’s arm. 

“Systems continue to function optimally,” intoned Perceptor after he had finished, barely looking at the two jets on the medberths as he made a note into a datapad. 

“Excuse me, Perceptor sir, but that is not being entirely true-like,” volunteered Jetstorm, waving his hand in the air in hopes of catching the science mech’s attention, while Jetfire nodded rapidly. 

After finishing typing his note, Perceptor looked up to peer at Project Safeguard over his glasses impassionately, stating flatly, “Elaborate.”

The young jet perked victoriously at at last getting the scientist’s attention, feeling a mixture of annoyed but hopeful as those dang annoying errors popped up again. ~ This will finally be the solar cycle, I can feel it!~ he told his brother. Out loud, he informed the stoic mech in charge of their reformat, “The error messages that we have been mentioning before? They are not being getting better,” Tongue sticking out in concentration he ran through his error logs, which displayed an ever-growing readout of red text lines of code that spoke of failure, but failure of what was always the question. “We do not know what they are being from,” he elaborated. 

Perceptor did not react to the information, not even making a move to write anything in Project Safeguard’s file. “We have been over this before. Your flight code is still settling. It will take time for all of the functions to fully integrate,” he informed the two dismissively. 

“It sure has been settling for long time!” complained Jetfire, “You would be thinking we would be more settled by now!” 

Something almost resembling interest tinged Perceptor’s mechanical voice as he asked, “Have  these errors begun inhibiting your abilities to fly or fight?” 

“No,” they reluctantly admitted. Jetstorm continued, “They are just being very annoying !” 

“Then these ‘errors’ are of no harm. There is nothing to be concerned about,” the reassurance fell flat at the scientist’s unemotional tone. 

The Jettwins slumped in their seats in disappointment, sharing a traded chagrin as another message was added to their logs. 

“Yes, sir, Perceptor sir,” relented Jetstorm glumly. 

“Project Safeguard is dismissed,” said Perceptor, immediately turning away from the two young mechs to once again observe his data. “Your presence will not be required for another stellar cycle. Remember to take your post reformat energon.” 

“Thanking the Allspark!” exasperated Jetfire, shooting up from the berth gratefully to jump onto the floor. Jetstorm hopped off his berth at the same time, waving back at the scientist cheerily as they ran out the door and reassuring flippantly, “We will be sure to be remembering! Bye bye!”

The two jogged out of the Ministry of Science building and out of the borders of the city. Apparently, flying over unsuspecting civilians created panic, so the two were grounded while they were within populated areas. As soon as they were clear, they transformed and took gratefully to the Cybertronian sky, spending a couple minutes to goof off and just fly. Medical examinations were always somehow stressful and boring, and flying was a nice remedy for both. 

~We should probably get back,~ stated Jetstorm reluctantly after finishing a barrel roll. Jetfire replied with wordless feelings of disappointment, but ultimately agreement. Leveling out their flights, they took off in the direction of the Nexus to space bridge to Earth where they and Sentinel Prime were currently stationed. As they flew, their wordless disappointment at the visit to the Autobot scientists only grew. 

~At least we don’t have any errors when we fly,~ stated Jetfire with a dry edge. 

Jetstorm sighed, his engines thrumming in annoyance even as he agreed with the sentiment. 

~You didn’t tell Perceptor sir about the other thing. The wrongness thing,~ added the Jettwin curiously. 

~Well, neither did you!~ snipped back Jetstorm. Dipping down thoughtfully to the right, he said, ~I don’t know what to say about it. Perceptor sir didn’t even think the errors were problems.~ He scoffed, ~ I can’t imagine how he’d react to “oh, yes, also, we feel a little off, no there’s no actual problem that we can see”.~ 

Jetfire’s engine revved in amusement, ~Probably the same way he reacts to anything else.~ 

Jetstorm laughed at that. Saying Perceptor “reacted” was a stretch, everything was met with the same flat expression and monotone voice. More thoughtfully, he said, ~Maybe Perceptor sir is right and it’s nothing. Just code settling and it will go away on its own.~

~I guess we’ve dealt with it this long,~ reasoned Jetfire defeatedly. 

At last the two made it to the Space Bridge and went just above orbit of the Earth, where the Steelhaven was floating besides the Earth Moon. They flew back aboard the ship, happy to be done with medbay visits for a while. 

“Hey, mechs,” greeted Jazz casually from his place watching monitors as the Jettwins arrived back at the ship. “How’d it go with the doc?” 

Jetstorm shrugged, dismissing an error as he did, “Same as it is ever being.”

“ ‘Project Safeguard be sitting still, we are having very important sciency wiency stuff to be doing’,” joked Jetfire with a mock finger wag of disapproval.  

Jazz shook his head, grinning, “I don’t envy you mechs. In and out o’ medbay all the time. Bet you’re looking forward to some time on leave.”

The twins shared a look, then Jetfire asked, “What is being ‘leave’? Where would we be going?” 

The other mech startled, then bit his lip like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or not. Grin tightening slightly, he then answered, “Goin’ on leave’s when you get some time on vacation. Get off base, do whatever you want. A little bit of civilian life.” 

They stared at him in disbelief, “ ‘whatever we want’?” echoed Jetstorm, “So we could be spending whole day flying?” 

Jetfire scoffed, “That is stupid way to be spending vacation, brother. We fly all the time! We should instead be exploring weird organic planet!” he argued, pointing out the window towards Earth visible below them. 

His blue twin scowled, retorting with his hands on his hips, “We would need to be flying to be doing the exploring, brother.” 

Jetfire opened his mouth to argue, but unfortunately could find no counter to that, and crossed his arms in a pout. Moment of irritation at losing the argument passing, he remembered what they were talking about, and quickly recovered. He turned to Jazz with his hands clasped hopefully in front of him, too excited to be bothered by the red text that popped up in the back of his processor as he did. “How are we to be getting the ‘Leave’?” he asked the other mech eagerly. 

Jazz’s grin relaxed, turning more bemused at the young mechs’ enthusiasm and he ran a thumb against his jaw consideringly. “I bet you’ve been here long enough to qualify for some. I can put in a request for ya if you’d like.” 

“Oh, yes!” 

“Thanking you, Jazz sir!”  Replied the Jettwins eagerly. 

“ We are going to be having the vacation!” cheered Jetfire with a fist pump. The two left the room, bickering on the best thing to do with their time off. Jazz shook his head fondly, and grabbed a datapad to begin filling out the leave request documents for the two young soldiers. 

Several business days later, the request finally went through, and the Jettwins met up with Sentinel Prime hopefully to inform him about their vacation days. 

“There’s no way you two greenhorns have vacation time already,” scoffed Sentinel, “Get back to work!”

“No but we do Sentinel sir! See?” said Jetstorm hopefully, as he presented a datapad of official documentation declaring their time on leave, signed off on by the medical team and several council members. 

The commander snatched the datapad out of the smaller bot’s hands, glaring at it as if it were a forgery. But the seals and signatures were official. “Fine,” he conceded with a grunt, begrudgingly handing back the data pad. He threw his hand up saying, “Don’t know why you’d want to waste it on a disgusting organic planet like this, but I guess I can’t argue with the High Council,” he shook his head, pointing at the two meaningfully, “ Don’t get into trouble, remember to bring your special energon. Report back in in exactly one deca-cycle.” 

“Of course, sir!” The Jettwins both said with a joint salute.  

Back in their quarters, they grabbed the few things they would be needing as they prepared excitedly for their vacation. 

~Where should we go first?~ asked Jetstorm eagerly, subspacing one of their unique cubes of energon for the trip. He was too cheerful about their time off to let the resulting errors bother him. 

~I’ve heard about a “North Pole”.~ suggested Jetfire, toying with their camera, before ultimately deciding to bring it, ~Apparently there are some kind of native organic flying creatures there called reindeer. They can fly without wings!~ 

~What about where Optimus Prime sir and his friends were? We didn’t get to see much of “Detroit” while we were there,~ countered Jetstorm, packing another cube. 

Jetfire made a dismissive sound at the idea, waving it off, ~We’ve already been to Detroit. We should go somewhere new and exciting!~ 

The blue twin scowled, arguing, ~But we didn’t see all of it! I still say we go to Detroit.~ 

~North Pole!~ retorted Jetfire, getting in his brother’s face. 

“Detroit!” 

“North Pole!” 

The argument escalated into a scuffle, the two shoving at each other, until Jetstorm ultimately pinned his brother to the ground victoriously. “Hah! I win!” he gloated from where he was sitting on his twin’s back. 

The orange jet squirmed from his spot on the ground, and his twin’s victorious expression dimmed somewhat at the rapidly growing unease coming from his brother. Neither of them were very comfortable with the sensation of being grounded, or with having anything on their backs. He quickly got off, offering a hand to his brother. The jet pouted at it for a moment, but soon enough relented to being helped back to his feet. 

“We can do North Pole after Detroit. Okie dokie?” offered Jetstorm diplomatically. 

Jetfire merely “hmphed” in response, but his twin could tell from their bond that he agreed. All of their things packed, and with their vacation time officially started, they wasted no time in leaving the ship and flying towards the nearby planet. 

Flying through Earth’s atmosphere was different from flying through space--or even from flying on Cybertron--, in a way Jetstorm couldn’t properly explain. At least, not to ground based mechs. Maybe he’d be able to explain it to another flier, but considering they were all Decepticons that wasn’t likely to happen. Something about the winds, the updrafts, the atmospheric pressure just “hit different”, as the Earthlings would probably say. Not to mention how much better being in their alt modes usually felt. They never encountered errors in jet form, and somehow the “offness” felt better, too. Maybe it was just covered up by the feeling of flight, the Jettwin couldn’t say. Either way, this was the first time he could think of that they were free to just fly wherever and however they wanted, nothing to stop them from lingering in vehicle mode as long as they desired. Always before there had been missions or tests, a time limit forcing them to land. Now it was just them and the open air, and Jetstorm flew in a giddy loop-de-loop at the thought. His brother zigged and zagged above him, transmitting an excited joy over the twin bond. Jetstorm echoed it as he also twisted and turned through the air, occasionally dipping down to brush the treetops of the forest below them just because he could. Because there was no hurry and no objective, just them and flying. ~And you said flying would be a stupid way to spend our vacation!~ he teased. 

~Well, we are also exploring so I still wasn’t wrong!~ retorted Jetfire, descending down to fly beside his brother, and both admiring the landscape just below them. They flew until the sun had started to set, casting the shadow of their outlines running over the trees below. They were so busy enjoying their flight and looking down, that they missed what was way up above them, watching them from above the clouds. 

Starscream had noticed the strange signals miles before as he and his clones were taking a flight -- and had urged their formation higher up to avoid notice. But he wasn’t so high to not be able to see what he was following, as he focused all his sensors downwards to observe the unusual presences. 

“Jets with Cybertronian energy signatures?” he commented as he could see two unfamiliar jets below him, “Frag it, the Decepticons must have finally sent someone after me.” He continued to watch the two unknown Cybertronians, who were flying in lackadaisical loops and dives and seemingly not even aware of his presence. It was a little strange he didn’t recognize these mechs, but then, even with Seekers he wasn’t the most social and it had been a long time since he had regularly interacted with any of them. It was a bit of a shock to even see these two, he hadn’t thought he would ever see other Seekers. It didn’t seem like they were on a serious retrieval mission, but why else would their energy signatures be so scrambled? He could barely even tell if they were Decepticons (a handy trick for sneaking into Autobot territory, he had to admit). And why else would a couple of jets be here on Earth in the first place? “I can’t believe they sent such lazy, sloppy, soldiers to capture me. The Decepticons really have fallen if this is the best they’ve got,” he complained. 

“Those aren’t Autobots,” stressed Ramjet tensely, as he finally decided to care enough about what Starscream was saying to take a look himself. 

“ Autobot Seekers?” scoffed Starscream, “There’s no such thing. Maybe we should get your optical sensors checked, Ramjet.” 

“Ramjet is correct, dear creator,” informed Sunstorm equally tensely, recognizing the colors of the two Autobots, if not their alt modes, and trusting Ramjet’s knowledge of the two, “Those are two of the Autobots who so brilliantly captured us before.” 

The lead Seeker observed the two clueless planes below him again, as if to make absolute sure that he was in fact seeing jets, and his engines stuttered as this time he could see the telltale sigils of the Autobot Elite Guard. “Impossible!” he gasped, his flight waffling in disbelief, “What the frag is this?!” He didn’t wait for an answer, instead straightening himself out determinedly. “I want answers, and we need to get these Autobots out of our airspace,” he declared authoritatively. Sensing the serious change in mood, the other Seekers fell into a tighter formation, engines thrumming in excitement and nerves. It had been a while since they had been in a serious battle. “Thundercracker,” he barked sternly, in full military planning mode, “You disorient the two with a sonic boom. Sunstorm and Ramjet will come in from the side to attack while the two are still scrambled. Skywarp, take Slipstream with you to cover the rear and make sure they don’t make a run for it.” 

“And what will you be doing, exactly?” asked Slipstream, noticing a meaningful absence from that battle plan.

“I’ll be taking them heads on to demoralize them, of course! They won’t be able to think over the pure panic of knowing they’re dealing with the terror of the skies that is Starscream!” 

“So we’re going to be doing all the work, and you’ll give a speech?” the femme questioned dryly.

“Hey, don’t underestimate the strategic value of an intimidating monologue,” he defended knowingly. 

“We have to keep them together so that they can combine,” Ramjet interjected urgently.

Starscream’s flight scrambled as his wings jerked in shock, and he shouted,“They’re Autobot jets AND a Combiner team!?” 

“Nope,” replied Ramjet. 

With great effort, Starscream stamped down his shocked outrage at whatever the frag it was the Autobots had been up to. Resolving to puzzle over the inexplicable nature of the Autobots invading their area later, Starscream simply revised his tactic, “In that case, Slipstream and Skywarp, while you cover the rear, work your way between them to keep them separated. I’ll keep them distracted so they won’t even think about combining.” Starscream ignored Skywarp’s fearful whine and Slipstream’s annoyed huff at the order. “Seekers, battle positions, and lower your audial receptors. Let’s go.” 

Jetstorm was mid casual loop when he realized there was something on his radar, and it was incoming fast. He barely had time to send a questioning pulse to his twin as he completed his loop before a deafening boom sent his audial circuits fritzing, and he struggled to keep flying straight. 

~Sentinel Prime sir is going to kill us for not paying more attention!~ his twin sent him half-jokingly, even as he also struggled to stay in the air. 

Before Jetstorm could respond, something crashed into him full force from the side, sending his already waffling flight into a downward spiral. Jetfire, meanwhile, had shot wildly with a fireball, not caring or able to precisely aim. A wave of dismayed shock passed through him as one of his flames hit its target -- a dark yellowish looking jet in the dim light -- but seemed to do nothing. Struggling to focus between the pain of his twin and his still-recovering gyros, he watched in muted terror as the enemy jet sent another fireball straight back at him, landing a direct hit. He scrambled, dropping in altitude as the fire surprisingly actually burned and he tried to put it out. Whatever he had just been attacked with was different from his own flames. As he fell, he tried to angle towards his brother, sending him a wordless plea and suggestion to combine, and his twin replying in agreement. With some creative spinning, he managed to put out the flames as he altered his path to head towards his brother, only to be cut off by laser fire from directly in front of him when a jet suddenly appeared in his flight path. “Please just be captured, I really hate high speed aerial chases,” begged the enemy jet, even as he shot at Jetfire. 

The Autobot couldn't help but scoff as he continued to dodge. “No way!” he shouted back at the Decepticon as his flying became serpentine, dodging the blasts as he was driven further and further from his twin who was evading a jet with bright teal wings. 

Side hurting, but finally regaining his bearings, Jetstorm tried launching a tornado of wind at his opponent, a move that normally sent people spinning without knowing how to deal with it. The other jet just laughed, high and mockingly, and easily maneuvered out of the storm. “You think I don't know how to fly through a twister?” she (the voice was clearly femme), gloated, taking shots at the Autobot, and chasing Jetstorm away from his brother.

“Fly as fast as you want, little wannabe Autobot fools,” gloated a different grating voice from above them, similar and yet so different from the one that had been begging to Jetfire before. Scanning upwards, the Jettwins’ engines hitched at the sight of a mech they had only faced in simulation before, and even that had been a harrowing ordeal. And they were sure this time it was no knock off clone (though considering they were currently losing to knock off clones, maybe even those shouldn’t have been written off so easily). “You’re no match for the capabilities of real Seekers.” 

Distracted by the source of many a bad memory flux between them, Jetfire was startled out of jet mode as a sharp kick to his top forced his frame to transform. He waved his arms helplessly beside him as he started to fall, unable to fly in root mode without Safeguard. He was almost relieved as large pale hands grabbed at his wrists and yanked him to a stop, holding him aloft. He was a lot less relieved as he heard the tell-tale snap and subsequently felt the tell-tale zap of stasis cuffs being put onto his wrists. Further away, he saw and felt the moment his twin was similarly captured by the femme he had been trying to escape. The Decepticon jets surrounding them had all transformed, and the two flying Autobots found themselves surrounded by identical faces of the mech who had so injured them in simulation form before. Even with identical frames and faces, though, it was clear to tell which one was the real deal, as one of the mechs hovered closer to them with an air of authority and a gloating smirk. “Told you you worthless copies wouldn’t be able to escape,” he jeered, his hands behind his back as he gazed over the two smaller bots. 

Jetfire couldn’t help but snicker at that. “You are really one to be talking about ‘copies’,” he snarked.

“Don’t you get tired of the seeing of your own ugly face?” added Jetstorm. 

The clones reacted before Starscream himself did, the atmosphere immediately turning more hostile, as several scowls and guns were pointed at the Autobots.

 “WHAT did you just say?!” shouted a blue clone, his expression especially thunderous as he pointed his guns towards them-- optic twitching as he scowled at the Autobots in a way that suggested he had just been deeply, personally, offended. 

“Is harsh crowd!” remarked Jetfire, trying to look behind him warily as the grip of the orange Starscream clone holding him tightened, the Decepticon frowning tightly. The Jettwin’s self preservation instincts finally decided to kick in and cause him to regret insulting the dangerous mechs currently having him bound, powerless, and a long way above the ground.  

“I know it’s tempting, but don’t shoot them yet,” said Starscream casually, gesturing for the clones to stand down. One by one, with varying degrees of reluctance the others complied, and the Jettwins couldn’t help but feel a moment of relief at that. 

“Aww, why not ?” questioned a black and white Starscream clone, (one that the Jettwins thought they vaguely recognized) arms still outstretched and aiming weapons at the two Autobots (though thankfully not charging them at least). 

“I need answers from these two twerps,” explained Starscream, “and, unfortunately, for that I need them online.”

While the Decepticons talked, the Autobots had a quick unheard exchange of their own. They were grateful that stasis cuffs couldn’t impact their twin bond. ~I’m starting to think Sentinel sir may be right about watching our vocalisers more carefully,~ admitted Jetstorm reluctantly. 

~Yeah, let’s maybe try not to slag off a bunch of big angry Decepticreeps,~ agreed Jetfire. 

Starscream was giving the clone who was still threatening the Jettwins a meaningful no-nonsense look, and the clone huffed disappointedly, but finally dropped his arms. Glancing over the Jettwins one more time, Starscream then turned to address the clones as a whole, “Let’s get them to the ground to empty out their subspaces. We don’t need any little surprises.” 

The group descended, and the Jettwins were thrown onto the ground before they had fully landed. “Hey!” they shouted affrontedly, having to simply suffer through their sore skidplates from hitting the ground. Then they had the unpleasant experience of the Decepticons moving them into a kneeling position without their frames having any say in the matter, and then rummage through their subspaces, taking out everything in them while the twins were rendered immobile. 

“Look what I found!” said the blue clone in a blusterous tone that oddly reminded them of Sentinel as he took a handful of their things out of their subspace, “Energon! I bet none of the rest of you will find anything as important as that!” 

“Give me that!” commanded Starscream harshly, swiping the haul away from his clone, and turning away to set it in a growing pile of Jetfire and Jetstorm’s other things. (Which wasn’t much. Energon, a camera, some odds and ends.) 

“Oh, wow, energon how special ,” quipped the femme sarcastically as she added her own collection of their things to the pile. “Almost as impressive as Starscream’s ‘intimidating monologue’, that was, what, a few lines of basically the same thing?” She smirked over her shoulder at her creator.  

“Don’t you start, missy,” snapped Starscream. 

While the Decepticon jets’ leader was busy arguing with his clones, the twins looked around at the ones that were standing guard over them. Now that there was a chance to observe them more accurately, they could see more of the differences between them. In fact, Jetfire finally recognized the one who had wanted to shoot them before, who was currently leveling them with a glare. “Why hello, liar Starscream, so nice to be seeing you again,” said Jetfire, grinning up cheekily at his captor, taking full advantage of the fact that his faceplates were the one thing he could still move. 

 “Oh, a pleasure, for sure,” sneered the liar, smirking tightly at the sight of the two who had humiliated and captured him before bound and kneeling before him. “Even better that we don’t have any mouth clamps for you.”  

“Also, we have actual designations now, isn’t that wonderful?!” interjected the orange clone with a meaningful glare at the Autobots. He gestured towards his white brother beside him, “This is my amazing brother Ramjet, who I’m sure you remember very well,” he placed a hand on his chest, grinning in a way that was somehow not friendly at all, “and I am Sunstorm. We had the pleasure of meeting before, though I sadly had no chance to introduce myself, what with your oh so wisely implemented gag.” Still smiling, he pointed towards the sole femme of the group, “That over there is--” 

“SUNSTORM!” barked Starscream, turning back towards his creations and their captives, “These are captured Autobots not party guests!” Sunstorm stopped talking and backed away slightly, though his glare lingered on the two small jets. Starscream had turned to the black clone who had chased Jetfire, saying authoritatively, “Skywarp, teleport these two back to base, would you?” 

“I've never tried teleporting two mechs before…” the clone fretted, looking over the captives nervously. 

“The two of them are STILL smaller than one of us. It should be basically the same amount of mass to transport. Although,” he turned to the Autobots with a thin smirk, “Try not to move them around too much, we might end up needing all of their limbs in one piece.” 

“What you are meaning by that?!” exclaimed Jetfire, forced still despite his fear, as the black Starscream clone came towards them both. 

“Hey! Be backing the away from him!” shouted Jetstorm, wanting desperately to summon up a wind to defend his twin, and immediately receiving a shock from the stasis cuffs for his attempts. Jetfire hissed harshly in shared pain and the two’s optics dimmed from the shock. Unnoticed by the twins in their momentary disorientation and pain, Starscream regarded the reaction with interest. Skywarp merely paused and looked at the two warily, but quickly gained courage, and clasped a hand over each of the Autobots’ shoulders. In a flash of ultraviolet light, the Jettwins were trapped in the captivity of the Decepticons. 

Chapter Text

The mysterious erroring program went wild as they were carried down the halls of the Decepticon jets’ base like a couple pieces of luggage, the twins glancing with concealed nervousness between their captors as various Starscream clones drifted off from the group. However, there was a distinct difference as sometimes it actually ran successfully, without an error message. They shared a joint rush of relieved shock at the realization, only for that feeling to suddenly die out as the successes were immediately followed up by the same red strings of text as before. ~Noooo why? So close yet so far.~ complained Jetfire to his brother.  

The more they watched their captors as they made it further into the base, the more they were able to connect the program’s successes and failures to the movements of the others’ wings. At last, Jetfire could take it no longer and complained as he had to dismiss more error messages than even usual, “Can you please be stopping with the wing twitching? It is giving us the processor aches. Ugh!” Jetstorm didn’t speak up, but made a face as he also rapidly dismissed a couple more error messages.  

“Okay. I’d hate for our Autobot prisoners to be uncomfortable ,” purred Ramjet condescendingly down at his prisoner, jostling the Autobot held under his arms as if he was going to drop him before quickly securing him again, making the twin utter a concerned ‘eep!’. An easy, nonchalant smirk was on his face, but he regarded the Jettwins with a glint of gleeful malice in his optics, his wings perked victoriously. Sunstorm’s expression was neutral, but he didn’t step in to stop him, instead flicking a wing in a way that the Jettwins somehow just knew meant he was amused. 

Jetfire and Jetstorm scowled, but nearly lost steam as the action was accompanied by yet another error. Despite sharing an annoyed whine between their bond, they managed to keep up their glares at the two Decepticons that brought them through the halls. At last they made it to a door, where Starscream -- who had been walking ahead and saying nothing to those that followed behind him -- signaled to stop. “You two can wait out in the hall,” he said to his clones, “ I’ll interrogate the prisoners in here.”

“Awww,” replied Ramjet in a disappointed voice, “I didn’t want to help,” he pouted, but Starscream gave him a flat look. 

“Either of you interrogated prisoners before? No? Then maybe leave this to the professional,” he remarked with a pointed raise of his optic ridge. Begrudgingly, Ramjet shoved Jetfire into a standing position inside the room, which had been set up with a table and some uncomfortable looking chairs.

“I have no doubt of your effective and experienced interrogation techniques, my most skillful creator!” remarked Sunstorm as he placed the other twin in afterwards, still giving the two Autobots that not-so-friendly grin as he closed the door behind him. 

They were locked inside with only Starscream now, and they watched him warily as he took a seemingly casual seat behind the table. He regarded them for a long moment, and the twins wished they could fidget (sighing internally at the inevitable error messages that that brought), when the Decepticon finally said something. 

“What the scrap are you?” he wondered, attempting to sound disdainful but unable to fully hide his confusion.

“Ummm Autobots?” replied Jetfire, giving the Decepticon a slanted grin. 

At Starscream’s unamused expression, Jetstorm spoke up instead. “Jets?” he suggested with a less cocky grin. 

The two glanced at each other and then back to Starscream, answering simultaneously. “Autobot jets?”

“Impossible,” reacted Starscream instinctively, shaking his head, “There’s no such thing as flight capable autobots,” he said in shock, even though he had seen for himself that it was true. “It’s totally unnatural,” he continued, thinking out loud more than speaking to anyone in the room. 

The Jettwins scowled deeply, internally bristling in offense, and Jetfire bit back defiantly, “We are being very capable flying Autobots, thanking you.” 

The older mech didn’t reply to the sass, too busy intently observing the captives and running back what he had seen of them in battle only moments ago. He had seen it with his own optics, and confirmed it in his own memory banks. Impossible as the thought was, the two were flying autobots. The very idea was appalling, the Autobots would have needed to use decepticon coding to achieve such a thing (unless things had radically changed on Cybertron and the fools in charge of Vector Sigma had somehow become more tolerant, an unlikely thought). As he stared at them, a niggling, suppressed memory was called to his processor of his time spent as a captive of the Autobots, and he frowned tightly, suppressing a shudder. There was a not-unlikely chance that these two things were related, but he wouldn’t know for sure without more information. Glare turning stern rather than inquisitive, he commanded the two prisoners. “Explain yourselves. Now.” When they merely stared, he clapped his hands authoritatively, sassing, “From the beginning, chop chop!” 

The two captives shared a sense of concern, but then decided that they weren’t being pushed to reveal Autobot secrets or the location of their teammates so they were better off speaking before their interrogator remembered to ask. Stuck where they were (and humiliatingly barely able to meet their captor’s optics over the table that was taller than them), they began to explain the story of their reformatting into the first flying Autobots. 

~Brother,~ realized Jetstorm mid-retelling, ~Perceptor sir said we were formatted using Starscream’s code, didn’t he?~ 

~Yes? We just told that part. Did you forget?~ his twin replied, slightly confused. 

~No but,~his bond presence flickered with barely suppressed excitement, his optics shooting meaningfully to their captor in a way the Decepticon hopefully did not notice, ~ That’s Starscream.~ 

~Yeah? Ohhh! I see!~ 

~Maybe he will know something about these errors that Perceptor sir missed!~ suggested the blue twin excitedly. ~We should tell him about it!~ Jetfire sent a wordless sense of agreement, so when the story had gotten to the present, Jetstorm kept telling. “Now, as you are plainly seeing, we can fly! But we have also been getting constant annoying error messages from a program we can not recognize.” 

“We ask Perceptor sir about it and he says to not worry about it. We are thinking he just doesn’t know what is wrong,” continued Jetfire boldly, his optics narrowing conspiratorially. 

“Since you are original source of code, we are wondering if you maybe know how to get the errors to stop, yes? Please?” Jetstorm shot a wide-opticked desperate look at the Con, one that was only partially exaggerated, especially when it only resulted in yet another of the constant, plaguing error messages. 

Starscream had been listening to the story with a growing horror that he kept carefully concealed. So the two Autobot gremlins were related to his time captured. He hid another shudder as he fiercely shut down a number of emerging unpleasant memories. Worse than the prodding and the invading of his processor, and the poking and exploring of his frame, the Autobots had actually used his code to make something that defied Cybertronian natural law. Not only that, they had violated and copied his very personality core, and he had to fight hard to not be sick at the thought. Perceptor, it seemed, could give Shockwave a run for his money in the unethical experimentation department. And then on top of all of that, it seemed they had gone and fragged it up. Grounder Autobot fools probably didn’t even understand what they were working with. 

“The Autobots are low-RAM fools who wouldn’t know an aileron from an exhaust vent,” he criticized darkly, moving beyond fear to become enraged and insulted at the disrespectful use of his coding instead, “I’m not surprised they fragged something up.” 

“So you know problem?” asked Jetstorm, hopeful despite himself. 

“And can fix?” echoed Jetfire, fuelled by his twin’s hope. Both flinched over the spark bond at another error popping up.  

“Of course I can fix it,” scoffed Starscream before he had thought about what he was implicitly agreeing to, “I’m twice the scientist of that half-rate Autobot hack Perceptor. I’ll bet he messed up something incredibly simple that his grounder processor didn’t even realize.” Before he could second guess himself, Starscream had stood from his chair, hands furiously planted on the table in front of him, grumbling scathingly, “That fragger wants to mess with my coding and can’t even be bothered to do it right?!” He looked over at the Jettwins across from him, his optics blazing and his wings hiked in annoyance, “You two are going to the medbay. Now!”

Jetfire and Jetstorm were now slightly less certain of their plan, despite Starscream allowing them movement of their limbs once more, as they were led to the Decepticons’ medbay by a darkly scowling Starscream. It only now occurred to them that Starscream was probably just as likely to do horrible things to them as fix them. But they weren’t going to leave now , not when there was a chance of getting rid of this annoying problem. Their resolve firmed as more errors appeared and had to be dismissed as they looked around the hall apprehensively. 

They arrived in a room that had a circle of berths in the center and a row of cabinets along the edge, and the only thing that suggested it was a medbay was a singular diagnostic machine and spark monitor that they probably wouldn’t have even recognized if they hadn’t been in and out of surgeries and medbays frequently over the past stellar cycles. 

“Er, is very nice place,” commented Jetfire as he looked over the scantly supplied room with a bemused optic raise. 

Starscream was observing them again, his optics flicking between the two smaller jets. “You’re twins?” he asked them in a seeming non sequitur. 

“Um, yeah?” answered Jetfire, sharing a questioning glance with his brother. 

“Code basically the same?” the Seeker asked in a neutral, clinical, tone. 

“So we have been told,” chimed in Jetstorm, his voice kept forcefully light against the utter strangeness in how Starscream’s demeanor had changed, and sharing a sense of confusion with his twin. 

“Good. I don’t want to have to keep switching between you,” the snark had returned to his voice, and the Jettwins couldn’t help but relax a little as it did. “Ok, blue one, get up here,” he instructed, patting the berth that was nearest the machine, “Other one, you can go sit over there,” he waved vaguely at a different berth. 

“We are having designations, you know!” complained Jetfire, trying, and failing, to cross his arms with cuffs on. 

“ Wow , aren't you special? I don’t care. Get on the berths or get put on them.” 

Grumbling, they decided to comply. Standing around arguing wasn’t going to get them closer to a possible solution, so they struggled up onto the berths that were level with their optics while Starscream watched on dispassionately. They brightened hopefully (and dismissed more incredibly helpful error messages) as Starscream moved to remove the cuffs from one of their hands. Their sparks sunk when he just attached the free end to a bar on the berth instead. “Did you seriously think I was just going to let you be completely free?” he remarked with a smirk, “I might need you to move around a little for the examination. Naive little Autobots. You still won’t be able to use your powers, either, we’ve made some improvements to your lousy Autobot technology.” 

Hearing a Decepticon use the word “examination” was not exactly encouraging, even though they had already known that that was what it was. The blue Autotbot’s nerves turned to a spike of panic as Starscream tapped a wire on the back of his head, commanding, “Access port, tiny.” The smaller jet’s now free hand flew defensively over the access to his neural circuitry, and Starscream sighed deeply in annoyance, “ Relax . The diagnostic machine only scans code.” He muttered lowly, probably not meant to be overheard, “ And we’re lucky it does even that .” Twirling the cable absently in his claws he continued to …reassure?, “It can't change anything. I’m not an Autobot,” he commented darkly, his optics flickering with suppressed memories. Jerking his head slightly to shake off the memories, he twirled the cable again, continuing casually, “And I’m not a medic either, so I unfortunately can’t force a connection. We’re only getting anywhere if you let me hook you up for a code scan. Or I can just throw you in a cell and you can have fun with your broken incompetent Autobot coding job and error messages. It really doesn’t matter to me.” 

~Are you really trusting that?! And I thought I was the reckless one!~ warned Jetfire, who was watching the whole ordeal with wide optics from his berth. 

~No! Maybe! I don’t know!~ he replied, not looking away from Starscream holding the diagnostic cable and looking steadily more impatient. 

~Maybe we should just escape.~ his brother suggested with a cockiness that didn’t fool him at all as he could feel his nervousness, ~The error messages aren’t that bad, right?~ he said half jokingly. 

~But then we’ll never know what’s wrong.~ Jetstorm found himself stubbornly arguing. 

His brother’s presence waivered uncertainly, suggesting hesitantly, ~Perceptor-- ~ 

~Perceptor never tells us anything!~ Jetstorm snapped, ~Every time we try to tell him about the errors he just waves us off! He’s not ever going to help us.~ It wasn’t the first time either of them had thought that, but it was the first time they were willing to say it, even to each other. And, frankly, Jetstorm was tired of the non-answers and dismissals. Tired of the errors and the world feeling off. If he had to trust in a Decepticon diagnostic to get answers, and to feel even remotely better, he would do it. 

Posture tightening in resolve, he stared at the still waiting Starscream and agreed, “Fine.” 

“ Finally ,” huffed the Seeker as Jetstorm allowed the diagnostic cable to access his neural circuitry. 

“If you do anything to my brother you will have me to deal with!” threatened Jetfire for good measure, pulling at the cuff that kept him attached to the berth, and making a threatening fist with his free hand. 

“I’m terrified,” muttered Starscream flatly as he fiddled with something on the code scanner. Gesturing towards the connected Autobot, he asked, “Anything specific seem to trigger the errors?” 

“Mmm, usually when we feel something very strongly,” answered Jetstorm truthfully, having no reason to lie despite the bizarreness of sharing his medical problems with a Decepticon of all mechs. “Since we are captured, they have been even more. When you are doing the,” he wiggled his fingers in Starscream’s direction, “wing-flicky things.” 

As though in response, the jet’s wings in fact flicked outwards in intrigue, and the Autobot could just barely catch the mysterious program executing, before then frowning in thought as he questioned why he knew that was what it meant. As soon as he frowned, he immediately had to dismiss the prophesied error. “Like that,” he groaned. 

“Hmm,” hummed Starscream pensively as he watched lines of code scroll by on the screen above them. Jetstorm craned his neck to look behind him at the scan, but the wall of text made no sense to him. 

“What? What is being problem?” he asked stressfully, another error inevitably popping up. He was barely able to catch the blip of red text in the activity on the screen. 

Starscream, on the other hand, must have seen something very interesting, because his optic ridge raised and his wings perked as he watched Jetstorm’s code. “Well, well,” he remarked unhelpfully, and Jetstorm got the impression he was intentionally keeping his revelations to himself. Starscream abruptly turned away from the diagnostic screen, to face towards Jetfire. “Ok, orange one, roll over.” 

“It’s Jetfire ,” protested the orange one, stubbornly staying put. 

“I still don’t care. Move,” ordered the Seeker, twirling his finger in a circle. 

Jetfire shot an uneasy glance at his brother, who gave him a reassuring thumbs up. ~Starscream has not hurt me. I think you will be ok!~ 

~ You think?~ Jetfire retorted, barely restraining his nerves at the looming warframe still staring angrily at him. He resisted the urge to shudder, looking at the glowing red optics that glowered at him, reminding him far too much of that ill fated training sim. That hadn’t been the real Starscream, sure, but it didn’t make him any more inclined to put himself in a vulnerable position near the Con. 

~He really hasn’t hurt me,~ reassured his twin with a bemused calm, ~And I think he knows something. I think he really is trying to fix this.~ a sense of hope raised in the bond as he said this, and Jetfire considered his options. They may have done some stupid things and argued a lot, but he trusted his brother to want to keep him safe. And he really was tired of the constant errors, that popped up even now. Not to mention that just general offness that haunted both of their frames every moment, even more constantly than the error messages. The chance to possibly get things to normal was too tempting, so, keeping the reassuring thoughts and feelings of his brother close, he twisted--wrestling with the singular cuff for a moment-- to lay face-down on the medberth, his hands folded under his chin. He tensed as he could feel the sharp tips of Starscream’s claws exploring along his back, occasionally tapping searchingly. If his brother was wrong he could be so dead soon, with Starscream’s talons at his back. Jetstorm had better have known what he was talking about. He hoped this would all be worth it. He tensed for reasons outside of stress as one of the experimental claw taps felt different than the others and the sensation made him squirm. 

“You know, your plating has soft spots here?” asked Starscream rhetorically in a casual manner. Jetfire tried very very hard to not consider the observation a threat, even as he shuddered under a matching wrong feeling as the Seeker’s digit poked just under his opposite shoulder. 

“Oh, really?” he asked with a grin, trying to match Starscream’s easy casualness, “It is hard to be seeing your own back, we are having no idea!” 

“They’re small, you probably wouldn’t notice it normally. Strange your medics never thought to point it out-- thought Autobots cared so much about their patients’ wellbeing,” mentioned the Seeker offhandedly, though he was grinning tauntingly and his statement carried heavy insinuation. 

Jetfire kept silent. He should have retorted, should have defended the Autobots’ honor, Perceptor and Red Alert and all the others were good at their jobs and did care about their well being. But with everything they knew, everything Jetstorm had just argued, and now more new questions raised that yes they should have been told about, he couldn’t muster a defensive response. Starscream smirked knowingly at his silence, and retracted his hand to stand at the foot of both of their berths. Jetfire sat up as the Con clasped his hands behind his back and looked between them haughtily, seeming to enjoy the tense anticipation. “Do you two half-pints know what makes a Seeker unique from any other mech?” he asked pridefully, leaning forwards slightly to look them in the optics. 

“Uhh, no. We are not,” answered Jetstorm. 

Jetfire slowly raised his free hand, asking, “Scuse me, Starscream sir. What is ‘Seeker’ being?” 

Starscream recoiled in shocked offense, his smooth facade crumbling as he screeched, his fists clenched in front of him, “They used my code on you and they DIDN’T EVEN--!” he cut himself off and forced himself to take a calming in-vent, composing himself. “Me. I’m a Seeker. My frame type is seeker,” he explained shortly, no longer enraged but having lost his smooth and controlled aire. “So, you were reformatted with my schematics,” his voice took on a pedantic tone, finger waving illustratively through the air as he gestured between them, “What’s something  I have that you do not?” 

“Decepticon logos?” 

“Being pink?” 

“A big chin?” 

They both laughed, Jetfire joking, “Almost could rival Sentinel sir!” 

“No, you little glitches!” he snapped. He then drew himself up pridefully, stroking at his unfairly mocked chin, “And it’s not big, it’s distinguished and handsome!” He waved his hand harshly, “But that’s not the point, the point is wings , bolt-brains!” He pointed a thumb at his back, his wings flapping to accentuate his pronouncement. 

The Jettwins stared, then Jetfire responded bluntly, “We are not having any wings.” 

~We do when we’re combined, though,~ commented Jetstorm thoughtfully, considering Starscream’s argument.  

“That’s the whole problem, dumb dumbs,” chided Starscream, walking forward to crouch down and poke Jetfire in the forehead, “All those coding errors are for wing functions that your programming is clearly trying to run, but it fails.” 

“But why would we have the code of wings without having the wings?” asked Jetstorm puzzledly, face scrunched as he thought it over, absently dismissing another error. He privately wondered if Safeguard had something to do with it, but didn't want to bring up their Combiner form to Starscream if he didn’t have to. If he didn’t know about it, they needed him to continue to be in the dark so any escape would be easier.  

“That’s the million-shanix question,” remarked Starscream, straightening up to cross his arms, “The easiest answer would be Autobot incompetence -- they just didn’t realize they kept the wing functions with the rest of the flight programming. But considering they didn’t even want to investigate these errors I’ve got a different idea.” 

He then peeked his head into the hall outside, saying something to the clone posted at the door, and came back in with an energon cube in hand. A very familiar looking energon cube. 

“Hey! That’s ours!” cried Jetfire, recognizing the off shade of their specialty post-op energon. 

Ignoring him, Starscream looked over the cube suspiciously, breaking the seal and taking a sip only to grimace and spit it out again. “Euch, you two actually fuel on this?” he asked judgmentally, holding the cube slightly away from himself as he glared at it scathingly. 

“Perceptor sir says it is special to help us recover from reformatting,” answered Jetstorm meekly, less certain in this explanation than he had been before. 

“Well, I can tell you that it’s laced with nanite suppressants,” informed Starscream. 

“WHAT?!” exclaimed both twins. 

“You are liar!” accused Jetfire, sitting up on his berth and tugging at his cuff. “Perceptor sir wouldn’t -- wouldn’t drug us .” 

“Look I can run a chemical analysis if you really want, but I’m telling you your ‘special fuel’ was keeping your nanite activity down. Did neither of you notice? I bet your self repair is terrible,” he scoffed. 

They shifted in their seats self-consciously, placing defensive hands discreetly over their still-smarting injuries from their capture. True, they had noticed that their injuries seemed to take a little while to heal, but they had thought that had to do with the reformat itself. And they didn’t get hurt that often for it to be that big of a problem anyway. While they were thinking this over, Starscream had started to pour out their energon into the trash. 

“Hey!” protested Jetfire, but it was half-sparked. He still wasn’t sure if Starscream was telling the truth about their fuel being tainted, but the idea was alarming enough that he couldn’t say he totally minded seeing it go. 

“Why do that?” asked Jetstorm. 

“Sorry,” he said, not sounding apologetic at all, “did you want the nanite suppressants preventing your frames from properly developing wings?” 

“What?” 

“Wait slow down!” said Jetfire, doing his best to wave his hands frantically in a halting gesture,  “What is it you are saying?” 

Starscream sighed as if his conclusion should have been obvious, “Between the programming, the soft spots in your plating, and the fact that you were formatted with my code and my schematics, you two clearly are supposed to have wings. Those Autobot fraggers probably didn’t like the way that would look if their little perfect soldiers didn’t fit grounder standards,” he grinned sharply, his optics gleaming vengefully, “I'm more than happy to ruin that for them.”

He didn’t give them time to reflect on that as he disconnected Jetstorm from the code diagnostic machine and moved about the medbay, commenting, “I’m keeping you two in the medbay for observation until this whole thing is over.” He moved back to the door to say, this time the Jettwins were able to make it out, “Dump out the energon we got from the little twerps. Don’t drink any of it!” 

“Until what is over?!” asked Jetstorm panickedly. 

He looked between them thoughtfully again, then said blithely, “Not sure, exactly. But it’s definitely gonna be interesting.” 

Chapter Text

For the first few hours, things were the exact opposite of interesting, as the two sat around bound in the medbay and nothing happened. 

“I am thinking maybe you are wrong,” claimed Jetfire, idly sitting with his legs off the edge and banging his heels against the medberth just for something to do. “Nothing is happening!” He tried to throw his arms out but was stopped short by the cuff. 

Jetstorm nodded in agreement, his head cradled in his hand, “I was thinking being Decepticon prisoners would be being much more exciting-like.” 

“Primus, absolute protoforms,” complained Starscream, who had stayed in the room despite the lack of anything happening. The Jettwins could tell by the set of his wings and the way he tapped his fingers against his leg that he was feeling impatient, too. “The suppressants have to work their way out of your systems first.” This seemed to give him an idea, because he turned to a cabinet in the room, rummaging around and coming back to the twins a short moment later with two cubes of energon. “Bottoms up!” he commented in a fake cheery voice. 

They regarded the cubes distrustfully. “How we are knowing you are not just meaning to give us the poison?” asked Jetstorm sassily. 

He smirked amusedly at the accusation. “If it's poison that bothers you, maybe worry about your own faction, first, huh?” he snarked smoothly. The Jettwins scowled, even though Starscream was technically right ( especially because he was technically right, really). Still scowling, and irritatedly having to dismiss the ever present errors as well, they sullenly each took a cube from Starscream’s outstretched hands, glaring at the energon as they held it in their laps. “You gonna refuel or just gonna stare at it? We don’t have a ton of energon left, you should consider yourselves honored we’re giving any to you.” 

“Why are you giving us any?” wondered Jetstorm absently as he, after a brief wordless agreement with his brother, opened the cube with a shrug and started to drink it. 

“I’m this invested in this project now, no point in not going all in,” answered Starscream as he shrugged. (He had a lot of other reasons for helping the two Autobots as well, but they were all too personal to tell them .)

Jetstorm honestly barely listened to his answer, too busy enjoying the taste of regular energon. Even if nothing did happen and Starscream was wrong about this solving the error messages, at least he would get this out of it. They spent the rest of the night in the medbay, briefly warned by Starscream not to try anything, that they were being watched, etc, etc before he left them by themselves in the room. 

~Do you think Starscream is right?~ mused Jetfire through their twin bond so their conversation would not be overheard. ~Are we really supposed to have wings?~ 

~I don’t know. I’d like to think Perceptor sir wouldn’t lie to us, but…~ he trailed off, his feelings of unease speaking for him. ~I guess we’ll find out!~ he said with a forced optimism. 

The next morning, after Starscream returned and handed them more energon, something finally happened. Though the twins would argue that it didn’t count as “interesting”. Their backs itched. Jetstorm whined as Starscream slapped at his hand that was attempting to reach at his back to scratch it. “Keep that up and I’m immobilizing you again,” he scolded. 

“But we are the itttcchy,” complained Jetfire, squirming in his seat and sitting on his free hand -- certain the Decepticon wouldn’t hesitate to make good on his threat. 

Starscream shook his head, commenting disdainfully as looked up at the ceiling, “Protoforms!” 

“We are not! We are being grown up mechs!” protested Jetstorm, but the whine in his voice as he also shimmied from the itch that had settled under his shoulders slightly betrayed his argument. 

“If this is how you brave Autobot warriors handle some itchiness, I can’t wait to see how you take the rest of this.” 

Jetfire was going to ask what he meant, or maybe just complain some more, but was stopped in his tracks when he got a better look at his twin’s back. “Brother!” he exclaimed in shock and amazement, pointing at his twin and forgetting his own itchiness for the moment, “You are having bumps!” 

“Huh?!” Jetstorm twisted his posture to try and look at his back, and was barely able to catch a lump of something silvery-gray in the corner of his vision. He yelped, twisting more frequently, “Whatistwhatisitwhatisit?!” he panicked. 

Starscream leaned over the smaller bot’s back with interest, prodding lightly at the growth. Jetstorm shuddered at even the slight touch, something about it feeling weird . “Looks like things are getting started!” he decreed unhelpfully. 

The suppressants must have fully left them, because the bumps exploded outward within an hour, the soft plating on their backs moving aside to accommodate the growing protoform. The silver-gray metal of their protoflesh grew steadily up and out, soon leaving them with two new palm-wide struts sticking out from beneath their shoulders. Even Starscream seemed taken aback by the rate their nanites worked, commenting, “Your frames must really be making up for lost time,” as he looked over the struts that were nearly the length of the Jettwins’ forearms. 

Jetfire gave a groaning whine in reply. Their frames may have been excited to grow wings, but for them it had been ceaseless itchiness and the feeling of their plating crawling (somewhat literally). Of course, once the struts seemed to have finished growing to their full length, the twins were missing the itchiness. 

“We knew this was bad idea!” wailed Jetfire, back arching fruitlessly to try and get away from the overwhelming sensations from his growing new limbs. 

“Torturing of prisoners violates Autobot ethics!” whined Jetstorm as he rolled onto his side. 

Starscream rolled his optics at the dramatics. “First off, do you think I give a scrap about Autobot ethics? Secondly, if I was torturing you I'd let you know. Your protoform is just developing new sensors and your plating hasn't grown in to cover them yet. So suck it up you pathetic newsparks. Aren't you supposed to be soldiers?” 

“Protoform?” 

“New sensors?” 

Asked the two in shock, alarmed at the idea of something as core as their very protoform being changed. 

“Yes, protoform. Did you really think a complete reformat to an entirely different frame type would just be some armor-deep minor plating adjustment?” 

“Yes?” answered Jetstorm sheepishly, as that had basically been exactly what they thought. They had assumed wings were just a surface level cosmetic thing, like a mod or weapon or something! The other flying Decepticons didn't have any, after all. How were they supposed to know the difference! Safeguard's wings weren’t like that. At least, he didn’t think they were. They were usually only Safeguard in a battle and generally not for very long, so their processors were usually focused on more immediate things then how they were feeling. He curled into a ball on the medberth with a groan as another wave of scrambled and undeterminable sensory data rolled up his exposed wingstruts and across his processor. 

“Hey! Watch those claws on the medberth! These are the only ones we got, we don't need them all scratched up!” 

“Claws?” questioned Jetstorm dumbly, not completely processing the statement while struggling through the flood of sensory information. 

“ Yes ! Claws! As in, the things scratching up my medberth!” clarified Starscream irritatedly. 

Scrambling to think clearly over his screaming new sensors, Jetstorm finally realized how tightly he was gripping the berth, and carefully peeled his hands away. Thin gouges were left behind on the berth's surface and he wondered idly how that had happened before he got a good look at his hand and had to double take. He shouted in alarm, holding his hand out as he observed the now sharply pointed tips of his fingers. 

“Looks like wings weren't the only things the Autobots were hoping to suppress,” remarked Starscream in smug fascination, his hands clasped behind his back as he observed the smaller bot’s hand. 

On the berth next to his, Jetfire was similarly observing his changed appendage, his expression distant. Flexing his hand experimentally he commented in awe, “Cool.” They had been so overcome with the pure sensory overload from their developing wings, that the vague itchiness of their digits sharpening to points had gone completely unnoticed. 

Jetstorm sat up shakily, unable to tear his gaze away from his new hands. He curled his fingers, staring at his sharp fingertips, the horror and fascination of the change almost enough to distract him from the raw overwhelming feelings coming from his back. He was so absorbed in his observation that he startled when something metal was dangled in his vision. 

“Fueling time, tiny,” spoke Starscream, and, resetting his optics, the item in front of him clarified into a barrel of oil. 

“Awww, no more of the energons?” complained Jetfire from his berth, putting on a brave uncaring face though Jetstorm could tell his twin was overwhelmed by his sensitive struts just as much as he was. 

“What am I, a hotel?” scoffed Starscream, “The energon was just to flush the contaminated stuff from your systems faster. Besides, oil has a higher mineral content that will help your plating develop. Or do you like having exposed wing sensors?” 

Jetstorm could not have made a faster grab for the oil. He didn’t even care if he was looking desperate in front of a Decepticon, these wing struts were unbearable . He took a quick gulp of the Earth fuel, grimacing slightly at the bitter taste. He could see why Sentinel Prime had complained about it before when they were on Earth. “The wings are not being like this when they are the fully grown, are they?” he whined, now less certain this had been a good idea. If wings were this sensitive he couldn’t imagine why mechs would ever want any. 

Starscream rolled his optics with a contemptuous snort, scoffing, “Of course not. You think Seekers would be able to get anything done if our most important feature was this debilitating? You’ll be fine when the plating comes in.” 

Jetfire protested with a wordless whine, and the Decepticon grinned, clearly finding their suffering very amusing. “Guess until then you’ll just have to grin and bear it like a decepticon,” he told them with a dismissive wave of his hand. 

The orange jet gave a small growl at being compared to a Decepticon, but cut off as another influx of sensory data made him cringe. Glaring at Starscream obstinately, he suppressed the flinch as much as he could. This somehow only made the Con’s smile smarmier. 

Under the stress of the exposed sensitive protoform, it seemed to take the plating even longer to develop than their struts had, even though Starscream helpfully informed them that it had been the same amount of time. Even as their chronometers told them it was late in the Earth night, their wings were only partially covered at the tips of the growing wings, their frames apparently prioritizing a bundle of new cabling and wiring leading into their backs over what one would think would be important protective plating. Developing a whole new sensor net was agonizing , and it made the hours of change feel more like days as they eventually fought their way into the sweet oblivious relief of recharge. 

Several hours later, Jetstorm laid on his front half-awake, distantly aware that he could sense someone else in the room with him, and vaguely hearing someone saying something frustratedly. He flicked at the presence dismissively, curling away lazily to get some more recharge. “Sentinel sir we are being on vacation!” he protested drowsily. 

He startled up with a yelp as a pinching sensation traveled sharply through him, stopped short by his bound hand. He could sense his brother shooting up in the berth beside him, no doubt feeling what he had.

“Rise and shine. You’re done,” greeted Starscream dryly, the tip of Jetstorm’s wing still pinched between his fingers. The blue jet ripped them away as he sat up, his wings flaring behind him as he complained groggily, “I’m being up! You don’t need to be pinching my--” his optic band glowed brighter in realization, and he slowly looked behind him, a thin plate of blue-gray metal rising into his field of view. He startled again, the new wings flaring outwards as he did. Almost faster than he could catch, he saw a line of that troublesome coding go whizzing by in his background processes. 

“Brother, you are having wings !” squeaked Jetfire with a point. Jetstorm looked over at his twin, seeing squat trapezoidal orange wings sticking out over his shoulders, the appendages moving backwards in shock. 

“You are having them too, brother!” he returned, pointing back, his own wings mirroring his twin’s as he could feel them flex in surprise.  

“Brilliant observations, you two,” commented Starscream dryly, cradling his head in his hand and watching the exchange unamusedly. 

Jetstorm ignored the Decepticon, instead staring open mouthed at nothing while he carefully tested his new limbs, moving them around and lightly flapping them, feeling his brother’s matching sense of amazement. He quickly realized that he wasn’t getting any error messages anymore! Instead, he could just barely notice the program running whenever his wings moved. But he only knew this because he was looking for the program, if he hadn’t been thinking about it he bet that he wouldn’t consciously register it running at all! Such a win! 

~No more errors!~ cheered Jetfire, echoing his thoughts with a heavy wave of utter relief as he fist pumped the air, his bright orange wings perked happily. 

One of Jetstorm's wings flicked in amused agreement without him even thinking about the action, drawing his attention to the new limbs even more. As he flexed his wings experimentally, it suddenly struck him how much clearer his general sensors felt. He parsed through the new sensory data he was receiving, feeling the airflow of the room slip over his wings, sensing the proximity of everything in the room to himself, subconsciously tracking the movements of Starscream and his brother around him. He hadn’t even realized these things had been missing, but compared to how he was feeling now, it was as if they had been going around with their audials turned to half power without even noticing, but then they suddenly started working. Like this was always how their frames were supposed to work. That had been the unidentifiable offness, and with a surge of joy he realized it was finally gone. 

~Woah,~ sent Jetfire, and if he had them Jetstorm would have rolled his optics. As it was he just sent over the general feeling of the action, and replied, ~ That’s an understatement.~ 

~Shut up!~ countered his twin, ~You didn’t expect it would be like this either! Brother--~ he started, an amazed relief trickling from him. 

~I know,~ interrupted Jetstorm, amused and excited. 

~Everything feels so much clearer , ~ he awed anyway. ~It’s so much better!~

“You two are terrible at this secret communication thing,” interjected Starscream casually from where he was now leaning against the counter in the medbay, alternating between looking over the twins and his claws. “It’s lucky for you I can tell you aren’t plotting an escape, otherwise I might have to do something nasty.” 

~Oh shoot he knows about bond talk!~

“No secret communicating here!” 

“We are not knowing what you mean!” They denied with large fake grins. 

He stared at them flatly, his optics drifting meaningfully to their new wings which the twins only now realized had been flicking and twitching with their conversation the whole time. They frantically tried to force the limbs to still, but without total focus the still unfamiliar base wing programs would take over and they would just flitter wherever they wanted again. And the Jettwins were not well known for their amazing focus. For now they just dropped the endeavor with twin defeated sighs. 

“Sooo is all done now, right?” asked Jetstorm hopefully to change the topic of conversation. 

“Looks like it. But I’ll have to make sure,” answered Starscream, smirking enigmatically and moving towards him. 

“How--” he started to ask again, but cut off with a surprised ‘eep!’ as a large clawed finger ran over the base of his wing, poking into the joint cabling. 

~Brother! Are you alright?! What’s he doing?~ asked his twin fervently when he felt his shock, trying to see over where Starscream was (probably purposefully ) blocking his view of his twin's back. 

~Ack! I’m not used to there being sensors there!~ he complained, jerking his wings away as Starscream inspected the opposite one. The smaller Seeker smiled sheepishly when the Con gave him an unamused glare. Looking over the wing, he traced along a seam, making Jetstorm squirm. “Flex these ailerons,” he ordered no-nonsensely, and Jetstorm only stared at him blankly for a moment.

“Heh?” the Autobot asked eloquently. He knew what all of those words meant, of course, had done that countless times before in vehicle mode. But in root mode? 

“C’mon, I don’t think either of us wants this to take all solar cycle,” huffed Starscream, tapping impatiently at the bottom of Jetstorm’s wing. 

With some concentration, Jetstorm was able to do as requested, but it was definitely a very odd feeling, even on top of the other odd feelings of this whole thing. “Is that something Seekers do in the root mode all the time?” He scanned through his memory, trying to remember any of the Starscream & Co doing the same, but not coming up with anything. 

“ No ,” replied Starscream judgmentally, as though the answer should have been obvious, “But if I’m doing this I’m going to make sure I do a complete job -- unlike those incompetents in the Autobot Ministry of Science.” At that, Starscream grabbed his wing between a couple fingers and moved it around, observing, “Connection’s good. Full range of motion,” Jetstorm’s wing twitched violently at the unfamiliar feeling of being handled, smacking against Starscream’s hand with a metallic clang. The older Seeker shook his hand out as he glared again, adding annoyedly, “Reflexes fine. Motor control is severely lacking .” 

“I completely meant to be doing that!” protested the blue jet.

Starscream suddenly rose fully to his feet, looming significantly over the smaller mech, scowling intimidatingly, “You meant to do that , huh? You're sure that's what you want to go with?” he asked threateningly, and Jetstorm recoiled in alarm, his wings flaring defensively as he scooted backwards on the large berth, stopped short by the restraints. 

All at once Starscream's scowl shifted to an amused smirk, and he commented airily, “Emotional responsiveness working just fine, too.” 

Jetstorm let out a stressed ex-vent, pouting at the grinning Decepticon, “That was being very much not the funny!” 

This time the Seeker did laugh, in an unkind cackle, before resolving, “You're good.” He turned towards Jetfire, saying, “Alright orange one, your turn ,” however before he moved any closer to the other Autobot, he noticed something out of the corner of his optics, and paused to look over Jetstorm again. “Huh,” he stated, startling the blue jet as he grabbed his foot, and causing him to windmill his arms and flex his wings to not fall over as his leg was yanked upwards, “That's unexpected.” Jetstorm couldn't help but look to his foot as well as it sat in the Con's hands. At first he didn't see what Starscream was talking about, but as he stared he saw that his foot was different as well, subtly changed in shape to accommodate the tall thruster that sat in the place of his heel. “Wings, claws, and thrusters. You two are actually almost proper Seekers now.” There was an undercurrent of near approval and shock in the mocking remark from the Decepticon as he dropped the smaller mech’s foot. Jetstorm drew his leg in defensively, shifting his foot back and forth to look over his new thrusters skeptically. While Jetfire went through a similar checkup, Jetstorm just took another moment to really let it sink in, his wings bobbing thoughtfully as he sat. A stupid grin formed on his face as he moved the flaps on his wings, soaking in the experience of properly functioning sensors and coding. For the first time in a while, the world actually felt right, and by the time his twin was finishing up with his own examination and looking over at him with a bemused smile, Jetstorm was beaming widely. 

Even as Starscream scanned over the two with a business-like seriousness, Jetstorm could only turn his grin onto the Decepticon, making the Seeker startle. 

“What? Why are you looking at me like that? Stop it, it’s creepy,” 

“I am just being so grateful to you, Starscream sir!” he exclaimed, “For the first time in being long time, we have error-log free processors!”

“You are like being our hero!” professed Jetfire, only being a little sarcastic. 

Starscream openly grimaced at that, protesting, “No! You two are prisoners! Act like it! I was just proving how pathetic those Autobot excuses for scientists are.”

They both deflated at the bummer reminder that they were technically still captured. “But does all this bonding time not meaning nothing to you?” Jetfire pleaded, aiming wide, betrayed looking optics at their captor. His brother nodded sullenly, clasping his hands and intentionally trying to angle his wings downwards for a sympathetic display. 

Starscream appeared unmoved, and, despite their begging and subsequent pouting, quickly had them back in full (though non-stasis-inducing) cuffs and marched out of the room. The two were too busy wondering over how the changed environment affected their wing sensors to work on any sort of plan as they once again were pushed down a hallway of the Seeker base. Being in the closed off room was one thing, but walking down an open hall where a slight breeze moved through the room? That was a completely different matter, and they found themselves flexing and rotating their wings to best catch the feeling of the wind. Before they even realized it they were being shoved into a cell, though they couldn’t help but feel a moment of relief when they realized they weren’t going to be separated. 

“You’ll stay in there until it's time to deal with you,” said Starscream sternly as he turned on a stasis field in front of them. “You’ll be closely guarded, and those stasis cuffs are blocking your powers -- including that fancy little Combiner form of yours-- so don’t even think of trying anything.” With that, he turned around and left.

Contrary to his word, no guard had shown up yet, but the Jettwins weren’t even close to thinking about escape attempts. 

“Hey! I think we’re taller!” remarked Jetfire, looking down at his feet, and then standing on one leg to observe the other. “Do you think fan bots back home will like the look of new thrusters?” he mused, twisting his leg back and forth to look over his slightly altered foot. It wasn’t bad, gave them a few extra feet of height and Jetfire privately thought it gave them something of a graceful look. 

Jetstorm wasn’t thinking about their thrusters, though, and was instead watching with awed fascination as his twin’s wings flickered and moved to unconsciously help him keep his balance as he hopped in place on one leg. He felt his own flap sharply with curiosity, a still unfamiliar sensation but one that was growing ever more comfortable, especially when he considered that before it would have been another error for their logs. It was almost weird to him how not-weird this whole thing felt. Sure, the movement of his wings and the clink of his thrusters as he walked were different, but he didn’t feel for a second like they shouldn’t be there. Instead it was the complete opposite, even such a short amount of time into having them, it already seemed unimaginable to have ever been without them. Without thinking about it, he reached out with his bound hands, pausing momentarily at the sight of his new sharp finger tips, then reached out all the way to gently touch his twin's wing. 

Jetfire jumped, twisting away sharply, and shouting, “Hey!” as his wings flared and flapped defensively. The two stared down at his raised leg as it suddenly made a sad sputtering sound, the barest hint of smoke escaping from the thruster. 

“Am being sorry, brother,” he paused, continuing to stare, “I couldn't help it.” 

The fiery twin got a sneaky look, and just as fast as Jetstorm could read his intention the twin bond shuttered and his brother launched at him to poke at his wing. 

“Eep!” startled the blue jet at the unexpected contact on his fresh sensors. 

The sudden tickle fight persisted, only escalating as Jetfire figured out that the insides of their thrusters were particularly sensitive, and used that knowledge against his brother relentlessly. 

“Okay! Alright! I surrender!” cried out Jetstorm between laughter.

With a grin, Jetfire relented, releasing his brother's foot, and the two collapsed against each other, their wings perked happily despite still being imprisoned. 

Jetstorm flapped lazily, remarking, ~I’m kind of glad we got botnapped.~ 

~Yeah. It's great not feeling weird anymore.~

A lil art of Jettwins' new look (and some other AU doodles)

Chapter Text

“What will the ‘fan bots’ think of this?” remarked Sunstorm with his hands behind his back as he took his shift on guard duty, “In my humble opinion, captivity suits you so very well.” As he peered into the Autobot cell, though, he took a half a step back and had to swiftly reset his optics at the sight of the two. “Are my unreliable optics seeing things? Did you have such lovely wings before?” he asked, pointing loosely at the two captives, his head canted to the side as his optics flicked between their wings.

Jetfire’s wings flared defensively, even as he answered in a light tone, “No. These are being new.” 

“Huh,” replied Sunstorm, surprisingly speechless as he tilted his head further and gave the two small Seekers an appraising look. “If I may say so, they look very nice, really balance out your frames.”

There was no indication he was being anything other than genuine, and the Autobots shared a baffled look, Jetstorm turning to the decepticon Seeker with his shoulders drawn and his wings tilted in confusion, “Umm, thanks?”

“Were you not knowing that is what we were doing whole time?” asked Jetfire, curious how they had been here for days but the clone seemingly didn’t know what was going on. 

Sunstorm glanced away sheepishly, explaining offhandedly, “Ah, well, my esteemed creator is a brilliant and passionate mind. In the wake of his incredibly important projects, smaller tasks get deservedly overlooked.” 

“Ah, so he is forgetting for to tell you,” declared Jetfire impishly, grinning crookedly at the idea. 

The taller Seeker’s wings drooped guiltily as he answered, “I wouldn’t say he forgot . Starscream is ever so wise, I’m sure he has his own proper time to tell us, for very good reason.” 

~He forgot,~ asserted Jetfire, finding the idea of Starscream being so involved in something that he straight up forgot about all of the clones funny. And in some ways, relatable. He and his brother weren’t exactly known for their focus, either, and had been scolded enough times about telling people when they were doing something. Or maybe this was just a case of egotistical Decepticon leadership deciding that the underlings didn’t need to know. Probably it was more likely that one. 

Sunstorm stared at them, wrestling between staying angry at the Autobots, at least for Ramjet’s sake if nothing else, and his growing curiosity at two new Seekers in front of him. Though these two mechs had caused him and his brother no small amount of trouble, they were also the first Seekers he had ever seen other than his family, Autobots or not. (Or at least, the first ones he had seen where he actually had the ability to ask them anything.) Starscream had said very little about what was going on (not that he was agreeing that he had forgotten! ) and Sunstorm had so many questions, especially now that the two had wings. (What had happened that they didn’t have them before, he couldn’t help but wonder with an undercurrent of dread.) Crouching down to be at optic level with the smaller Seekers, he asked rapidly, unable to contain all the questions he had, “I hope you won’t find me rude for asking, but I would simply love to hear the wisdom of such marvelous Seekers as yourselves. Are you from that wondrous city Vos? What had happened to your superb wings? Why are you with those terrific captors, the Autobots?” 

The Jettwins startled at the sudden mood change, and barely followed the questions to begin with. They decided to tackle the most bizarre and easy to answer one. “We are always being Autobots!” replied Jetstorm. 

“But my knowledgeable creator said Seekers were all decepticons,” replied Sunstorm, only looking more confused at the answer. 

“We were not knowing about the Seeker thing until two solar cycles ago!” exasperated Jetfire, throwing his arms out as far as he was able while still cuffed. 

“And only are Seekers in very recent times,” added Jetstorm. Sunstorm continued to stare at them, looking like he understood less the more the Jettwins explained. 

~We should just explain everything. I think he's going to just keep asking if we don't,~ said Jetfire. So, for a second time, they went through the story of their reformat. Sunstorm listened intently, occasionally reacting with an obliging gasp, ooh, or aww. He was incredibly intrigued at the detail of the two having his creator’s coding, the shock of the information driving away the anger he had been trying to hold on to. He wondered what that could mean. What ‘code’ did they share, exactly? The Jettwins were vague on the details, probably they didn’t know. But hearing this, Sunstorm looked at the two Autobots closely, their backstory putting them in an entirely new light. 

“And then we were for receiving errors all of the times,” complained Jetstorm, coming to the present in his telling, seemingly oblivious to the increased attention the decepticon was giving them. 

“Very very many of the errors,” chimed in Jetfire, rolling his optics in annoyance at remembering just how bad the errors had been, and relieved all over again at not having to deal with them anymore. “And every one of the solar cycles feeling like something was being not-right-like with our frames.” 

Sunstorm frowned at the details, his previous thoughts already driving him down a path of pity towards the two bots, and the account of suffering furthering his burgeoning sympathy. Errors and uncomfortable frames sounded just about like he would think living without wings would be like, and his own wings flicked uneasily at the idea.  

“Then, when we are getting captured,” continued the blue Autobot, seamlessly picking up the story from his brother, “Starscream wanted to know what was the up with us, I am guessing. He found out Perceptor sir and other sciency mechs were keeping us from growing the wings for whole time.” 

“And these,” interjected Jetfire, standing awkwardly on one leg to bring his thruster into view, his brother nodding at the inclusion. As he lowered his leg back to the floor, the two shared a moment of thoughtful dismay, only added to as they noticed the feeling of their wings drooping. It hadn’t really sunk in before, but telling it all together, it seemed to really hit them that Perceptor had lied to them. Every time they complained, every error they endured, every second of feeling wrong in their own frames -- Perceptor had known about it, or at least known what was causing it. Because he was the one causing it. And they couldn’t really understand why. 

Jetstorm scoffed, throwing his arms in front of him, wings flaring slightly, “They are using Starscream's code to be changing our frames, but then don't want our frames to be looking anything like Starscream?” 

“What they were thinking was going to happen?” continued Jetfire, shaking his head. 

Sunstorm looked on in shock and horror that quickly transformed into pity at the last part of the story. He wasn’t sure how they could be so casual about what had happened to their wings. He suddenly thought about Lockdown trying to take Ramjet’s wings for himself, and shuddered at the idea of if he had succeeded. He couldn’t imagine it. Any lingering resentment he had for the two vanished, buried by the knowledge that they had been hurt by the Autobots as well. “You are both incredibly brave, to have weathered such difficulties,” he complimented solemnly and sympathetically. 

The Jettwins were once again thrown off at the reactions of the strange Con, their wings flickering in uncertainty as they shared a confused look. ~Umm, what part of that is brave, exactly?~ wondered Jetfire. 

~Maybe how we’re taking being captured I guess?~ replied his brother. 

Meanwhile, Sunstorm thought over the rest of the story, he was going to ask more, but his train of thought was interrupted by a message from Ramjet. ~I don’t know what’s going on over there, but it’s my turn for guard duty.~ 

Sunstorm realized he must have been causing a lot of confusion with everything he was sending over the bond, feeling momentarily guilty about that. Ramjet was simply amused by his fragile conscience. ~I’ll explain everything,~ he promised earnestly, Ramjet returning a dismissive disinterest, the spark bond equivalent of a handwave. 

For the Jettwins, for a moment it looked like the Decepticon was going to ask something else, but he suddenly stood instead as another one of the clones approached. “Hey,” greeted the newcomer, who they recognized as the liar -- Ramjet. The larger Seekers shared a flickering of wings, and Sunstorm turned to them with a regretful smile. 

“It would unfortunately appear that I can’t continue our riveting conversation,” said the Seeker apologetically. 

“Um, is being no problem,” replied Jetfire dismissively. 

“I’m greatly looking forward to being your guard again! For now, I have other vital tasks my wonderful creator has so graciously assigned me to. Goodbye for now,” he said with a wave. 

The Jettwins awkwardly returned the wave as he turned around. “Bye bye,” offered Jetfire bemusedly. This was not how either of them had thought being Decepticon prisoners would go. As the orange Seeker left, they were left with Ramjet. He stared at them intensely, and, unlike their previous guard, didn’t seem especially moved by their wings. 

“Is Sunstorm being always so chatty?” asked Jetfire, still not over the strangeness of their previous encounter with the Seeker. 

For a moment, the lying clone’s expression softened, his ill mannered smirk evening out into more of a fond grin as he replied with a laugh in his voice, “Not at all.” The moment of positivity passed, and the Seeker returned to glaring at the two captives. 

“You are not still being mad about earlier time getting captured, are you?” asked Jetfire exasperatedly. 

“Oh, never. Why would I be mad about that?” responded the liar, crossing his arms and expression not lightening a bit. 

“You are very hurt loser,” huffed Jetstorm, trying to cross his arms as well but failing due to his handcuffs, then trying to cover up the failure by looking away petulantly. 

“We are now being captured by you . Is fair like a square now, yes?” proposed the orange Autobot, shrugging widely as he could manage while still cuffed. 

Ramjet crouched to look at them much as his brother had before, though he regarded the two captives with a malicious smirk and an angry glint in his optics. “Absolutely. Why, I forgive you already.” 

There was no more interesting conversation to be had with Ramjet. Any attempts were met with sarcastic taunts, and things that the Jettwins just assumed were taunts because trying to talk to the lying clone was very confusing. Some things were lies, but other things were true but the rest of the sentence they were in were lies, and they got the feeling he was being confusing on purpose and eventually gave up trying to make anything out of it. Instead they retreated further into their cell and ignored their guard to discuss escape options, not paying attention as the guard changed over again. 

Leaving Skywarp in front of the cell (his terror through the siblings’ spark bond would be faster than any alarm at alerting an escape attempt, and he could easily teleport either the prisoners back to their cells or get someone else to handle it), the Seekers gathered in Starscream’s ‘office’ to have a discussion of their own. The older Seeker was sitting at his desk, reading over a datapad as his creations crowded into the room in a judgemental and confused semi-circle around him. Slipstream was glaring meaningfully at Starscream with her hands on her hips, asking, “ What is going on with the prisoners? Where have you been ?” 

“Everything’s all going to plan, no need to worry your pretty little helm over it,” dismissed Starscream, looking down at the information from his project of the last few days rather than the concerned creations around him. 

“So it’s a ‘plan’ that they have wings all of the sudden now?” asked Ramjet judgmentally, his arms crossed tightly.

“Wait, what?!” exclaimed Thundercracker, who had seen the least of the two Autobots, “ What wings?! Autobots don’t deserve our superior features!” 

“The cleverly malicious Autobots took away our wonderful guests’ wings,” spoke up Sunstorm, posture tensing as he recalled the story of the Jettwins and once again feeling bad for what had happened to them, “Our amazing, kind, and oh so generous creator was helping them get their wings back,” he remarked, gesturing broadly at Starscream with an adoring smile. 

“Well it wasn’t exactly like that ,” protested Starscream with a grimace at the framing of him being kind to Autobots, even as he looked at his notes that the two young mechs’ wings had grown in well.

“All this time I thought you were hiding bloody torture from us or something, and thought we couldn’t handle it,” said Slipstream scathingly, throwing her hands in front of herself harshly, “you mean to tell me you’ve been helping them?!” She narrowed her optics thoughtfully, pinching her chin pensively, “Unless this was some kind of unethical medical experiment. In that case I’m just offended you didn’t ask me to help.” 

“Oh, it was an unethical medical experiment,” agreed Starscream with a nod, unable to resist the irony, “It just wasn’t mine . The Autobots started this mess, I just actually completed it.” 

Slipstream threw up her hands at the dissatisfactory answer, but got the feeling her creator wasn’t going to elaborate any further. Instead she changed gears, asking, “Well, what are we going to do with them now , then?”

“It’s all under control,” he dismissed offhandedly, going back to absently looking over the datapad. 

“So you don’t know,” she shot back easily, making her creator bristle. 

“Look,” he retorted, slamming his datapad onto the desk with a clang , looking straight at Slipstream, “ I’m the only one who knows anything about keeping prisoners. We’ll interrogate them or do whatever else I say, when I say so, alright?!” 

~He doesn’t know,~ she told her siblings even as she sassed aloud, “Whatever you say, oh great and knowledgeable leader.” 

~That’s Sunstorm’s line,~ teased Ramjet. 

~I--~ Sunstorm started to defend himself, more surprised at the taunt than anything. At his siblings’ knowing doubt, he didn’t even bother, taking the jab good-naturedly, ~It pretty much was what I was going to say. Just not nearly so rudely.~ 

There wasn’t time for Sunstorm to say his piece, because Starscream had already picked up his datapad and stalked out of the room, apparently done with hearing any arguments about his plan (or lack thereof). 

~Is the meeting over now? Can I be done with guard duty yet?~ floated over the concerned mental voice of Skywarp, tense anxiety coming with him. The anxiety flared to a harsh spike of fear as he complained, ~Oh sparks, one of them just looked at me! Is there a plan yet? Please tell me there’s a plan!~ 

~Apparently not,~ replied Slipstream wryly, her burgeoning frustration echoed by a simmering rage from Ramjet. ~Starscream’s big scheme is apparently to fix up the Autobots and just keep them here.~ 

~Well, it’s not so bad, is it?~ tentatively offered Sunstorm, flickering with a tense but growing sense of optimism, as he played with his hands, ~We’re getting to meet other Seekers--~

~What’s that supposed to mean?!~ snapped Ramjet harshly, bond flaring in disbelief. ~The Autobots should suffer , not sit comfy and together in a cell while we help them !~ he raged, throwing his arm out harshly in the direction of the cell, ~Just let them suffer! Who cares about the stupid Autofools’ wings anyway? ~ 

Ramjet was taken aback when there wasn’t the slightest hint of corresponding anger coming from his brother, only a quiet sense of pity. The lack of reaction sent a stab of hurt through the white Seeker, as he exclaimed, “~How can you forgive them?!~”(Ramjet wasn’t such a fool to think that Sunstorm was just blindly naive. Not anymore, at least. He couldn’t understand how the other Seeker could be so relaxed about this.)

Sunstorm flinched at the anger and betrayal from his brother, and he turned away, his posture turning meek. ~I…~ he gathered his thoughts, trying to find the words to explain why he started to care about the captured mechs, trying to explain himself not just to Ramjet but to all of his siblings, ~They’re Seekers.They share our creator’s code,~ He started with the detail that had first turned him towards sympathy, hoping the importance of it spoke for itself, ~And they were hurt by the Autobots like we were. And lied to. The Autobots took their wings ,~ he shuddered, filled with horror once again at the thought. Taking away a Seeker’s wings was just so…so inherently disgusting of an idea he almost couldn’t stand it. ~What they told me… Who knows what else the Autobots did to them?~

The explanation did little to temper his brother’s hurt frustration, and, though he radiated regret at the fact, there wasn’t anything Sunstorm could do to change the way he felt. Knowing what they suffered through and the lies the small Seekers were told by the Autobots, he just couldn’t maintain his grudge the same way as his sibling. He looked back up at his brother, his optics genuine as he tried to say all of this through their sibling bond, shrugging despondently. Ramjet huffed, and the feeling of betrayal, at least, faded, though the bitter anger remained. And the white Seeker couldn’t be denied that. He had been hurt far worse by the Autobots than Sunstorm had. It wasn’t a good place to leave it, but it would probably be the best that could be asked for.

~So they seriously have wings now?~ butted in Thundercracker, still not over that particular detail. 

There was a series of assertion from the siblings who had seen the Autobots, though Skywarp’s was laced in anxiety and Ramjet was still full of a simmering anger. 

~Thanks to Starscream, anyway,~ said Slipstream bitterly, her and Ramjet’s frustration flaring thinking about their creator’s actions. ~We should really do something with them. I almost can’t believe he doesn’t have any plan.~

In the end the majority of the Seekers just heaved a collective sigh as their creator hadn’t offered much information. 

~So am I still on guard duty?~ asked Skywarp nervously once again. 

Elsewhere in the base, Starscream paced the halls back and forth. Despite Slipstream’s blatant mockery at his lack of action against the prisoners, Starscream’s step refused to take him any closer to the cell of the autobot Seeke .. of the Autobots. Instead he circled the hall, taking three steps towards the cell, then abruptly turning around and walking two paces back. Five steps towards, four steps back. Now he had come to standstill, glaring down at his code analysis of the two jets. He frowned tightly as he picked out more and more sections of their programming that were disturbingly familiar. He half wished now that he had hooked them up to a spark monitor before. Just so he could know the extent of what the Autobot scientists had done. 

While it was still possible that the Autobots had merely integrated decepticon flight programming into the processors of the two young bots (his original theory based on what few technical details he had gotten from the little brats), as he looked closer at the data, Starscream was coming to doubt that possibility. If it had been done that way, the two jets were more likely to have had their sparks reject the foreign coding, rather than the rapid, desperate drive for integration their systems had just demonstrated. Mere protocols wouldn’t have impacted their protoform so intensely, so profoundly. The alternative option made Starscream’s frown deepen, as he scanned over the information on his datapad once again. 

The alternative option was one Starscream didn’t want to think about, and the one that drew his step away from the two Autobots. But his internal logical functions kept running back to the same conclusion. Decepticons -- and only decepticons -- had the coding necessary for flight frames. A Seeker’s ability to fly was hardcoded into their CNA at a spark level. Mere copy-pasted flight coding wouldn’t have resulted in the Jettwins. To avoid code rejection, the Autobot jets would have had to have been altered at a spark-deep level. It was a conclusion that Starscream did not like, no matter how many different ways he came at the explanation. 

It would mean that, down to their very sparks, these Autobots , his very enemies , truly would be Seekers. Some of the only Seekers still online, and they were Autobot science experiments . And, to a more personal point, would be Seekers from his CNA. It was not a comfortable path of thought to start to tread down. With a growl, Starscream subspaced the damning datapad, crossing his arms to glare at the wall. Then down the path in the general direction of his prisoners. Unconsciously his pacing started again, though this time without the aim of going towards the cells. His hands clasped behind his back as he stalked back and forth across the hall, his claws flexing in frustration as the events of the past few days and his revelations about the two Autobots’ coding whirled in his processor. 

He couldn’t bring himself to interact with the prisoners. If he saw their faceplates, looked at their wings, it would just hammer home the conclusion that he was still attempting to refuse. He glanced back over his shoulder in the direction of the cells, scowling, then turning his gaze back away. He refused to go and look at them, refused to see Seekers . Refused to be reminded of those bygone days when Seekers had been strong in both numbers and pride rather than the shriveling near extinction they had lingered in these few million years; the days when freshly protoformed Seekers would marvel over their wings and wonder at their first flights. These were not newspark Seekers, he reminded himself as his pacing turned towards the cells. They were enemies -- the Autobot Elite Guard for crying out loud-- and frag his weak processor to the Pit and back for trying to make him think otherwise. But it had. He had gotten treacherously close to it when he had seen how happy and unguarded their little wing flickers had been, or how relieved they had been when their wings had been restored. Their down-tilted freshly protoformed wings had affected him more than he wanted to admit. And if he confronted the two mechs in the cell again now, he wasn't sure if he would view them as Seekers or Autobots and that uncertainty equal parts scared and frustrated him . If he went up to the prisoners, he could potentially prove Sunstorm’s accusations correct. (Well, the boot-kisser obviously hadn’t meant them as accusations, but that’s what they were all the same.) The suggestion that he , Second in Command of the Decepticons (former), had been nice to Autobots! He had helped them out of professional and personal pride, on the behalf of both science and Seeker kind, to best screw over the Autobots’ little play at control. It had not been kindness . And it would not be kindness. 

He turned swiftly away from the cells, walking towards the rest of the base as his thoughts moved in yet another direction. And, perhaps in his most pathetic argument turning him away from the prisoners, part of him was just plain scared of them. Rather, scared of what they represented. Because if he looked at them too closely it would probably lead to him thinking about their origins even further. His wings shuddered as his processes ghosted over the memory files that hadn’t fully stopped looming, threatening to be recalled if he gave them too strong of a prompt. Looking at the Jettwins and their altered frames would only call to attention the depths that Autobot science had gone to, both to the two Autobots themselves and their unwilling donor. Starscream liked to think he had been doing a good job of holding himself together thus far. No point in asking for trouble. 

Dismissing and ignoring his thought chains about the two prisoners, he resolutely turned a corner and marched to his room. He didn’t need to talk to either of the prisoners right now, and that would be his answer no matter how many times Slipstream bothered him about it. He knew more than her, had millions of years more experience than her, he knew what he was doing! He was just going to psych the prisoners out by leaving them alone for a while with their thoughts, and no one would be able to claim otherwise. Nodding his head to himself at his expert plan, and his artful dodging of unpleasant things he didn’t want to think about or deal with, he slipped into his room, stuffing the datapad onto a shelf buried by other things. 

Chapter Text

That night, the twins got to more serious work on planning an escape. They listened around themselves carefully for any sign their guard was paying close attention to them, their wings instinctively fanning out to similarly stretch out their sensors. There wasn’t any sign of movement, so either someone had left when they shouldn’t have or they were just generally between guards. Either way, it seemed like a great opportunity that the two Autobots weren’t going to waste. 

The very first thing they turned their attention to were the cuffs on their hands. Starscream may have seen the ability to lock powers without full stasis as an improvement, but the two jets could only smirk to themselves at how silly the Decepticon was for keeping them together while they could still both move. What was to stop them from just pulling off each other’s cuffs? With this thought process, Jetfire dug his claws into the connected part of his brother’s cuffs, barely biting back a scream when an electric shock worked its way through his hand and into the rest of him, making him immediately pull his hand away. The twins shared a dismayed look, their wings drooping behind them. 

~He couldn’t have electrified all of it,~ reasoned Jetfire, determinedly trying again in a different spot, and only getting shocked worse for his attempt. 

~Maybe we can turn it off?~ suggested Jetstorm, who was now carefully scanning over his twin’s cuffs for a sign of whatever was causing the shocks. He prodded at a mysterious looking box on the side of the shackles, hopeful that that was the generator or whatever. He didn’t get much further before being shocked himself, and had to pull away before he did any significant damage to the box. They both decided to give that plan a rest, settling into staring angrily at the cuffs. 

The Autobots jumped as a harsh snicker suddenly came from the other side of the stasis field, followed by a mocking, “No, no, keep trying. I’m sure you’ll get it the fifth time you try.” The face of the femme clone appeared in front of their cell, her lips pursed in a mocking smirk as she stood before the doorway with her arms akimbo. The Jettwins startled again, they hadn’t even realized she was there. 

Jetfire held a hand to his panicking spark, complaining, “You are very too quiet like!”  

“How you were doing that?!” asked Jetstorm, trying to sound more annoyed than scared or amazed and not entirely succeeding. Because, seriously, how had she hidden like that? She hadn’t even registered on their wing sensors ! (Were they using them wrong? Was there some special Seeker trick to hiding from them? Was it something they could learn to do? It suddenly occurred to Jetstorm how little they actually knew about their new frames or what they could do.) 

The femme tapped at the side of her helm, smirk not fading a bit, as she replied, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Yes?” replied Jetstorm, confused and annoyed by the unhelpful response, “That is being why I asked.”

She simply snickered at them again, quietly slipping back into the shadows of the hall, quickly seeming like she wasn’t even there. The Jettwins grimaced at the creepy display, before Jetstorm settled into a pout at the dissatisfying interaction, his brother patting his shoulder consolingly (if a little teasingly). 

The two tossed different escape ideas back and forth over their bond over their next few hours being guarded by the creepily quiet femme, before eventually recharging. The femme was still there when they onlined in the morning, and they frankly couldn’t say whether she had left and then come back at some point or had literally been there the whole night.  

They were honestly relieved as a new guard finally showed up, even more so as it was Sunstorm who appeared outside of their cell, a drum of oil in either hand. 

“Hello my fantastic sister! How has guard duty been? I’m sure you’ve been absolutely splendid at it!” he greeted. 

“Boring,” she answered, crossing her arms with an optic roll as she moved slightly aside at the approach of the other Seeker. “I thought Autobot prisoners would have put up more of a fight.” 

“Oh! How kind of you,” he turned to the Jettwins, “to have been so polite for my dear sister. Such a wonderful idea for model prisoners like yourselves.” 

~ ’Sister ?’~ questioned Jetstorm, looking between the two clones. His brother replied with both a physical and mental shrug, one of his wings flicking dismissively. 

“Well, anyway, if you’re here, I’m outta here,” commented Slipstream, turning away and throwing her arm up in a half-formed wave as she walked down the hall. The remaining Seeker moved both oil canisters to one arm to return a far more enthusiastic farewell as she left. The Jettwins watched the whole exchange in growing confusion. The femme Seeker hadn’t reacted to Sunstorm calling her ‘sister’, so it was apparently something she just accepted as well. When did these Decepticon copies get so chummy? 

The Autobots looked at Sunstorm warily as they were left with the strange Seeker guard once again, a sense of caution overtaking their confusion. Sure, he had been ok last time, but who’s to say he would be that way again? They knew they couldn’t trust Decepticons. 

“I’ve brought you remarkable guests some fuel! I apologize for its paltry quality, surely mechs of your stature deserve better. But we make the best of what little we have,” as he spoke, the twins felt a brief tingle from their hands, and were caught off guard as they were suddenly thrown into artificial stasis once again. 

“Hey!” they protested, as the stasis field in front of them died down long enough for Sunstorm to lean over and deposit the oil drums into their cell. 

“I’m ever so sorry about the stasis, truly. But you’re both so clever that you would certainly escape if we had kept you mobile while the stasis field was down.” 

To some unknown cue, their freedom of movement was restored the second the stasis field turned back on, and, pouting, they reluctantly picked up the oil they had been given, staring at the metal containers moodily. Sunstorm stood outside of their cell, watching them with curiosity rather than move to the side to guard them. 

As the twins relented that this would probably be the only fuel they were going to get and opened up the oil to start fueling, Sunstorm once again sunk down to sit criss-cross beside their cell and be more at their level, his hands wrapped around his legs as he leaned back casually.  

“I realize that I have most rudely erred, I never asked for your no doubt exceptional names!” He smiled gently and his wings were at an easy, amiable angle, and the Jettwins shared another moment of bafflement when it seemed by all accounts the Con was being…friendly. 

“Ummm,” they hesitated, reluctant to talk too much to their Decepticon guard. But eventually they figured that he couldn’t really do anything to them with just their designations. (And it was better than being ‘the blue one’ and ‘the orange one’.) 

“We are being Jetstorm,” at last answered the blue Autobot. 

“And Jetfire,” finished his brother. 

“What splendid names! So befitting two amazing Seekers!” praised Sunstorm at the answers, his hands clasped excitedly near his chin. (He actually didn’t know if that was true, the only reference he had for Seeker names was his own family. But he liked their names, anyway.) 

Hands dropping back down, he went back to staring at them, no less fascinated at meeting other Seekers than he had been before-- despite the disappointing revelation that they knew no more about Seeker history or culture than he did. The Jettwins’ wings twitched uncomfortably at the attention. 

Seeing the wing twitch, and knowing what he now knew about their backstories, a question occurred to their watching guard. “Did my fantastic, helpful creator explain how to preen your marvelous wings?” asked Sunstorm, internally sort of doubting he had. Starscream hadn’t remembered to tell the clones back in their early days, but he was hopeful that perhaps his creator had learned from that for this time. 

“What is that being?” asked Jetfire in response, and Sunstorm’s wings drooped in disappointment. 

He quickly shook off his disappointment, reasoning optimistically that that meant he would be the one to explain such an important part of Seeker life to the two mechs, and answered cheerfully,  “It’s the uniquely important and wonderful way for Seekers to keep their wings clean and functioning perfectly flawlessly, and to help and comfort those ever so close and dear to you!” 

The Autobots shared another round of puzzled bemusement at the incredibly sappy last half of that, but chose not to address it. “But we would not be needing to do the preen now, yes? Our wings are the shiny and brand new,” remarked Jetstorm with a curious head tilt. 

“They are so very shiny!” complimented Sunstorm with a nod, “Preening is so remarkable that it’s not just for looking spotlessly clean, but it also perfectly helps calibrate the incredibly useful sensor nets in a Seeker’s wings.” The orange Decepticon’s smile wavered for the first time in this conversation as he recounted, “My resilient brothers were in the impressively empty vacuum of space for a while. When they returned to Earth their wonderful wing sensors were overwhelmed by Earth's impactful atmosphere.” He brightened again as he continued, “But our generous, glorious creator helped them preen their sensor net and they were feeling so much better after that!” 

The Jettwins shared a doubtful resentment at the praise to Starscream with a shared optic roll over the bond, then again noted the clone talking about his ‘brothers’. And, thinking over the Seeker’s idea, they reflected that it did seem that their wings were still acting sensitive, flicking away at the barest of movements, far more than it seemed like any of the Decepticon Seekers’ wings did. It probably couldn’t hurt anything to let the Decepticon talk. And, even if it was potentially dangerous to rely on a Decepticon, it wasn’t like the Jettwins could know anything better when it came to wings. Jetstorm had already been considering this in the back of his processor, so, with little hesitance, he replied, “Hmm, okie to the dokie, I think I am understanding. How we do the ‘preening’, then?” 

Sunstorm gladly explained the particulars, pointing towards specific spots on the smaller Seekers’ wings as he said the different areas to preen, the two jets giving him a bemusedly intrigued look as he did. 

“So this is being why Seekers have the claws?” mused Jetfire aloud, looking over his own claws as he thought over the idea. 

“Huh. You really are ever so clever! I had never thought of that. The Allspark is truly miraculous in its wisdom to make our frames such that they are.” 

Sharing a brief look, the Autobot jets sat down (after a brief argument of who was sitting in front of who, which Sunstorm watched with an amused, and somehow nearly fond, grin), Jetstorm facing his brother’s wings as the more experienced Seeker had instructed. Only hesitating slightly, the blue jet poked the tip of his claw into the hinge of his brother’s aileron. He would have been tempted to rip his hand away when his brother’s armor tensed and the wing under his hand tried to flick away, but Sunstorm gestured it was fine so he kept going. As he cleaned along the seams of the wing, his claw came away predictably spotless, but it soon became clear that the preening was still having a positive effect. His brother’s wings twitched less with each contact, and the cabling relaxed, a sense of content relaxation coming through the bond. Bolstered by this, he continued more confidently, finishing with one wing and moving to the other. Though as his brother grew more comfortable and his wings relaxed, Jetstorm’s hands started to lag as he was filled with the sleepy fog that drifted off of his twin.  

Sunstorm watched the twins’ lax wings and Jetstorm’s slowing movement with a knowing grin, deciding to impart some useful advice, “It’s usually a good idea to distance the bond if you want to actually preen your wings well,” he pointed out, “If you get too relaxed from the spark bond you’re likely to miss something. Well, if cleaning and calibrating is your noble goal rather than the equally valuable attempt to comfort-- then you would be doing a perfect job! Not that you’re not doing a wonderful job either way, that is, it’s merely my humble advice.” 

While still off put by the Decepticon jet’s constant sappy remarks about comforting (since when did Decepticons actually care about each other?), Jetstorm realized that that was probably a good suggestion, so, reluctantly and with a stab of jealousy, he pulled away from his brother in the bond so he could actually focus on what he was doing instead of feeling like he was going to fall into recharge. 

“Hey, wait, how you are knowing that?!” he shouted at the larger Seeker, tearing away from his brother to stare at the clone in shock. 

Sunstorm tilted his head bemusedly at the question, before holding a hand over his spark and explaining, “From my own wondrous bond with my siblings! Everyone feeling relaxed and comfortable at once is amazing and lovely, but clean wings are also wonderful.” 

“ You have the bond of split spark?” asked Jetfire, aghast. 

Sunstorm nodded proudly, his hand still clenched above his cockpit. 

The Jettwins shared a moment of shock at the claim. ~I thought the Starscream clones didn’t have sparks,~ quickly sent Jetfire.

~That’s what Sentinel Prime sir said,~ replied Jetstorm, then added sheepishly, ~Then again we weren’t really paying attention…~ 

~So, what, they’re actually brothers?~ asked Jetfire, regarding the orange Decepticon curiously. It seemed less ridiculous the more he thought about it, actually. The Seekers had all been weirdly nice to each other, especially Sunstorm and his commentaries. 

~I don’t know,~ answered his twin, equally intrigued by the idea. 

Outloud, before Sunstorm could find the pause suspicious (then again, if he had a twin bond of his own, maybe he knew exactly what it was they were doing right now. Kind of an unnerving thought) Jetstorm said, “Huh, that’s special. We are never meeting any other bots with the bond of twins.” 

Sunstorm beamed, nodding again as his wings fluttered excitedly, “It is such a remarkable gift! You’re so extraordinary for having one!” 

With an awkward laugh, Jetstorm finished preening his brother’s wings, the two jets switching over. At first Jetstorm’s wings flinched violently away at his brother’s touch, but they soon adjusted and he could understand how his twin had felt before, the gentle touch quickly turning soothing. Suddenly Sunstorm’s sappy descriptions of preening made a lot more sense. The brief silence was broken again as Sunstorm remarked, gesturing at the preening mechs, “If you should ever get the chance, you should try preening with our expert creator! He’s the most skilled, with an ever so careful and soft touch!” 

“No thanking you!” declined Jetfire, even as he laughed at the image of the Decepticon leader being soft and careful . Soft, careful, generous, if you believed Sunstorm’s telling of it, Starscream was as harmless as a glitch mouse. 

Jetstorm, meanwhile, stiffened slightly at the idea of Starscream being so close to their wings, said limbs tensing uneasily under his brother’s hands. Even if the Con had already handled them, in hindsight he couldn’t believe they had just let him. All of the sudden the thought of letting someone they barely knew and definitely didn’t fully trust touch their wings seemed horrifying. Concerned by his brother's increasingly stressed posture, Jetfire gave him a worried poke over the bond. Taking a steadying in-vent, Jetstorm focused on his brother’s hands instead, letting the touch on his wings comfort and center him. (It really was good at doing that.) Feeling better, Jetstorm threw out as nonchalantly as he was able, “We had already his claws on our backs. No needing to do again!” 

“You’ll do what you want, of course, and it’s a wise decision to do so. However, Starscream really is the best at preening.” 

“Even if true,” replied Jetstorm, “I’m not thinking that will work like it is being for you big Seeker mechs. You guys’ digits are being size of our whole wings!” 

“How it would reach?” inputted Jetfire, grinning at the ridiculous idea of any of the larger Seekers even trying. 

“Oh,” realized Sunstorm disappointedly, “You’re right, of course.” He had gotten so caught up on the excitement of talking to other Seekers he had somehow forgotten the obvious differences between them. 

As the two small Seekers wrapped up their preening, Sunstorm broke out of his morose musing, looking thoughtfully at the two instead. Being reminded of where they came from refuelled his curiosity from the day before. He wanted to know more about these strange Seekers. How were they similar? How were they different? What were their lives like? And how did their reformat work? Even though he was the most eager to know about that, he figured that asking about medical details probably wasn't the best place to start. Picking one of his other major curiosities, the decepticon Seeker planted his hands on the floor and leaned back where he sat, asking conversationally, “I would be ever so grateful to know, what is Cybertron like?”

“You are not knowing?” asked Jetfire in surprise. 

“Regretfully, no, I have never been to such an outstanding planet. I would greatly value your wisdom and experience on the matter!” 

The Jettwins shared another baffled look (it seemed like this Con was going to be causing a lot of that). “I am not sure how we are to be explaining whole planet!” exclaimed Jetfire.

“Cybertron is most amazing of amazing places!” extolled Jetstorm, attempting to throw his cuffed arms as far up and out as he could for dramatic emphasis.

“Oh! Maybe if we have camera we can show!” proposed Jetfire, turning to point towards his twin, his wings perked in inspiration, the both of them completely forgetting about their vague ‘not talking to their Decepticon guard’ plan under their excitement talking about their home planet. 

“Oh, yes, brother!” agreed Jetstorm, his hands clenched in eager fists over his chassis as he faced his twin, “They are saying the pictures are made of thousands of words!” 

Sunstorm’s wings perked in intrigue, as he seriously considered the suggestion. He knew they were prisoners and all, but knowing what the planet of his creator was like was so so tempting. He loved Earth, of course, he had spent pretty much his entire activation on the organic planet and it was his home more than anything, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t curious about the planet of their kind’s origin. He had managed to get a few details from Starscream here and there, but the older Seeker was so inconsistent when it came to talking about the past. Sometimes, if Sunstorm got lucky,  he would answer with long, passionate rants about the good old days, but, more often, he wouldn’t want to say anything at all. The orange Seeker looked down at the two Autobots, then over in the direction of where they were keeping the prisoners’ things. “Well, yes, I could get that for you,” he agreed cheerily, even as he clenched and unclenched his hands together uncertainly. 

He debated to himself. He was supposed to be guarding them. But how serious was that, really? Starscream hadn’t said there was any particular plan for them right now. And there was a stasis field, so it shouldn’t be a problem if he just stepped away for the moment. What would the two do with a camera, anyway? Coming to a decision, Sunstorm stood, stepping towards the storage room where they were holding the Autobots’ things. He turned around briefly, saying to the prisoners, “I’m sure you won’t be of any trouble while I’m gone. You’re very thoughtful that way,” and then continued on to retrieve their camera. 

The Jettwins actually didn’t do much of anything while their guard was gone (there wasn’t too much they could do while they were bound behind a stasis field). It was a bit bewildering that the Con had even taken their suggestion seriously, and that a Decepticon had been willing to leave them alone for any amount of time. 

Sunstorm returned shortly, fiddling with the small (to him) camera in his hands. The Autobots were relieved at the sight of the device. They had been sure that once it disappeared into the hands of the Decepticons they weren’t going to see it again. They shuffled closer to the electric barriers separating them from the taller Seeker as he moved to sit back down, leaning forwards eagerly and guiding the Con through turning the camera on and going to its gallery. 

It flickered onto the earliest picture in its memory, a picture of a beaming Jetstorm giving an excited thumbs-up to the camera. Wings fluttering excitedly, the Jettwins leaned forwards even more, nearly touching the hazardous stasis field to point towards the image. 

“Oooh! This is from after first time flying outside simulator!” exclaimed Jetstorm with a wide grin. 

“You were nearly crashing, I remember, brother,” teased Jetfire, pointing towards his twin. 

Jetstorm slapped his brother's hand away, “Because the flying was too very exciting! You almost ran into building!” retorted the blue twin. 

“ Not !” protested Jetfire. Turning to the Seeker outside their cell, he said, “Sunstorm, be not listening to lying brother! He was much worse at the flying!” 

“Oh, I’m certain you were both wonderful!” gushed Sunstorm, looking at the photo with more appreciation. He remembered his own first time flying very well. It was a lot of pressure, since Starscream got right to business of formations and battle tactics, but even then, that first time you fly, you could never imagine being without it. With some fumbling with the tiny buttons, he navigated to the next picture, one of what was clearly a Cybertronian building. He oohed at it, bringing the screen closer to his optics to stare intently at his first glimpse of Cybertron. 

“It’s so colorful! So bright,” he awed at the picture, his optics wide as he tried to take in every detail of the alien architecture, “Magnificent,” he praised in a hushed tone. 

“I was telling you that Cybertron is most amazing of amazing places!” inputted Jetstorm, amused at the strange decepticon’s starstruck reaction to the photo of the Ministry of Science building. 

“It certainly is!” agreed Sunstorm as he clicked through more photos of the planet, oohing and aahing over each one. Jetfire grinned proudly, pointing out that he had taken most of the pictures. Sunstorm was filled with awe in at last getting a glimpse of the Cybertronian planet, though the more pictures of the waist-high bots he scrolled through, the more a kind of nagging disappointment started to move through his circuits. He had thought that a planet meant for Cybertronians would have been more to his own scale for once (he couldn’t fault the humans for their size, but it was definitely a bit off-putting dealing with buildings smaller than you, on a planet you had spent nearly every day of your activation on), but from the photos it seemed like everything on Cybertron was smaller than he had imagined it would be. 

Getting through a long series of pictures of the Jettwins (mainly Jetstorm) in various places on the streets of Cybertron, Sunstorm paused from the semi-automatic scrolling he had fallen into at a picture of Jetfire with his arm thrown around an unknown red and brown mech with glasses, said mech looking absently unamused while the Jettwin made a goofy face. 

Sunstorm tilted his head towards the Jettwins, awaiting their explanation of the photo, and was puzzled when the two didn’t comment as quickly as they had the other times. Turning towards the two more fully, he saw that the twins were giving the picture doleful looks, frowning thoughtfully while their wings sagged slightly behind them. 

“Oh, that is Perceptor,” remarked Jetfire in an unusually flat voice for the energetic twins. 

“That clever scientific mech who gave you your incomparable frames?” asked Sunstorm, his inquisitive stare at the camera turning more to a glare the longer he considered the other mech in the photo. 

They nodded, their mood dramatically more somber than it had been when they were eagerly recounting Cybertron, as their expressions turned to scowls. “This is few cycles after our reformat,” 

“Perceptor was finally letting us out of lab to do the missions off Cybertron,” 

At the mention of labs , Sunstorm considered the photo with a tight frown, the silliness of the captured moment seeming heavier with the new context. So this was the mech that tried to steal a Seeker’s wings. This Bot had changed two of his own, and then left them to suffer afterwards.

“I am sorry that that happened to you,” he told the two sorrowfully. 

Every time they thought they couldn’t be surprised by this strange Con anymore, they somehow still managed to be, and the two shared another round of bewilderment at getting sympathy from a Decepticon of all mechs. “Yes, was a lot at first,” related Jetstorm as he reflected on their reformat, “but is better now with our wings all fixed,” he ended with a cheerful grin. 

“Yes, is all alright now! Even if science mechs were to be changing our frames, is worth it for to be flying now!” chimed in Jetfire. 

Sunstorm realized that this was finally an opportunity to ask about their reformat, so trying not to appear too eager, he asked, “The clever Autobots reformatted you with the amazing coding of my creator, didn’t they? So you share Starscream’s coding as well as my siblings and I do.”

The small Seekers both recoiled, grimacing slightly at the suggestion. Even if they knew Starscream’s code affected the way they looked, that didn’t mean they were like clones of him. They weren’t like a Decepticon. Jetstorm retorted dismissively, “It is not being that much of code.” 

“Oh, of course, of course,” replied Sunstorm, even as he wasn’t so certain about the claim. After all, the two jets had just said that the Autobots had changed their whole frames, which sounded like a big deal to Sunstorm’s processor. “I’m only struggling to understand the masterful work of your skilled Autobot scientists! I’m really not clever at all with coding or cyberbiology, not like you intelligent mechs.” 

“Oh, well. We only are having the flight frame programming,” stated Jetstorm with a conclusive nod. 

“Is changing our frames, yes, but not anything else!” declared Jetfire, standing to point a determined finger into the air. Just in case Sunstorm’s comment was an attempt at manipulating them to the dark side, he reaffirmed firmly, “We are still being Autobots.” 

Sunstorm nodded agreeably to their arguments, though he still wasn’t sure. But they didn’t seem to want to talk about their reformat more (he couldn’t blame them, he supposed), so he resolved to muse on the nature of their code privately later, instead moving on to the next picture. 

The conversation shifted into the three Seekers happily sharing stories of flight misadventures and feats, the two Autobots at times standing to dramatically reenact their tellings. The twin jets delivered their stories enthusiastically, encouraged by having such an understanding audience. Tales of missing jetstreams, underestimating winds, and navigating storms didn’t have to be explained step by step, elaborating on why what had happened was embarrassing or impressive-- as they had had to any time they had tried telling the stories to their fellow Autobots (that is, Jazz. Sentinel Prime never asked for explanations, mostly because he was only ever half-listening to begin with.) The other Seeker simply got it, and was able to share his own experiences and advice in return. By the time a new Decepticon showed up to take his place at guard duty, the Jettwins’ plan to not get friendly with their captor had all but completely shattered. 

“What’s all this?” huffed the blue Decepticon critically, catching Sunstorm’s attention as he was mid - applauding the Autobots’ animated retelling. 

“Oh, my remarkably dutiful brother, it’s so wonderful to see you!” he greeted his brother pleasantly. He gestured at the two mechs in the cell, “Our amazing guests were just sharing an incredibly entertaining and flawlessly told story about flying on Cybertron!” 

While the Con praised them, the Jettwins looked between each other, and then between their current guard and their new one, being sharply reminded of the whole ‘being Decepticon captives’ thing, and feeling momentarily guilty. 

~Oops~ realized Jetfire. 

~What would Sentinel Prime sir say if he saw us being all nice to a Decepticon?~ ruefully asked Jetstorm, trying to put on a sterner face towards the two Deceptijets. 

~Probably that we should watch our vocalisers. Again .~ replied his twin. 

The new guard scoffed judgmentally, “Not as great of a story as any I could tell, I bet. Anyway, a superior guard mech is here to relieve you!”

“I’m very grateful,” replied Sunstorm with a soft, and somewhat disappointed, smile. “You’ll do a perfect job.” Sunstorm stood to leave, and then belatedly realized he was still holding the Autobots’ camera. He waffled with it for a second, instinctively reaching out to try and hand it to the mechs, only to flinch back when he remembered the stasis field. “Oh, I’m sorry to keep this from you…” 

Despite their renewed attempts at being angry towards the Decepticon, Jetstorm’s wings dipped resignedly as he relented, “Is alright. We were not thinking of getting it back.” 

“Hoping we can still be showing you more of amazing Cybertron later times,” added Jetfire. 

“Yes…” agreed Sunstorm, though he didn’t sound as thrilled about it, and continued to look down at the camera. His optics flicked briefly between the device, the two captives, and his brother, before he made a split-second decision. 

The Jettwins suddenly found themselves stuck in stasis again, the field on their cell deactivating in front of them as Sunstorm quickly leaned over and set the camera on the floor between them. As soon as the cell barrier went back up and the twins could move again, Jetfire snatched up the camera, unable to hide his confused astonishment as he looked back up at their orange guard. “You are letting us keep it?” he asked in shock, drawing the camera slightly closer to his chest. 

“You were so generous in sharing such wonderful stories of Cybertron, I couldn’t possibly keep such inspiration away from you.” 

The two Autobots stared at him in confusion, then looked over to their waiting new guard, who simply shrugged. “Like you two pathetic wimps will be able to do anything with just a puny camera,” dismissed the blue mech. 

“Hey! Who are you to be calling pathetic?” protested Jetstorm. Meanwhile Jetfire was too busy intently pressing buttons on the camera to back up his twin. 

Jetfire raised the camera to his optic, peering through the view to get his brother and the two larger Seekers in frame, announcing cheerfully, “Be smiles!” as he carefully tapped the shutter button with the point of his talon. The camera went off, capturing the scene of a pridefully smirking Thundercracker, a surprised Sunstorm, and a scowling Jetstorm. He held out the camera for the gathered mechs to review. 

“Absolutely flawless photography!” praised Sunstorm, beaming at the image. 

Thundercracker crouched to get a better look at the device in the small Autobot’s hands, rubbing at his chin as he considered the picture, “Now that’s a nice looking photo. Even the Autobot in the shot isn't enough to ruin it.” 

“Hey!” exclaimed both Bots. 

“I am most photogenic bot!” complained Jetstorm. Pausing to dramatically think about it as he rubbed at his own chin, he added with a half-shrug, “Now, brother, on the left servo, his face definitely belonging behind camera.” 

Jetfire shoved at his twin, “ Your face being the ugly one, brother! I just have nothing else to be picturing so I am not telling you!” 

“You all look stunning,” pacified Sunstorm towards the bickering mechs, especially when it looked like Thundercracker was planning on joining in on the argument. “I will cherish this most expertly captured reminder of this moment. I hope we can enjoy it, and many more of your skilled photographs, together next time. For now, I leave you in the most capable servos of my esteemed brother.” 

Thundercracker preened at the introduction, then turned to cross his arms pompously at the two mechs seated on the floor well below him as his brother left. “Don’t think you’re even going to have a chance of escaping. I’m the best guard there is, you won’t so much as twitch without my observant optics noticing it!” 

The blue Decepticon looked over his captives haughtily, unable to stop his optics from drifting to stare at the two’s wings, and trying to cover up his surprise as the image really sunk in. Sure, he had been told the prisoners had wings now, but he hadn’t quite believed it. He relaxed a bit as he confirmed that the Autobots’ wings weren’t anywhere near as nice as his own, and then settled to the side to lean against the wall as he started his shift. 

The Jettwins considered this new mech, and how different he was from Sunstorm despite looking exactly the same. Maybe they really were brothers, after all. And somehow both of the Decepticons had been weirdly relaxed towards their Autobot captives. That part didn’t make any sense to the Autobots at all. 

~So are we still being mean?~ asked Jetfire, still playing with the camera in his hands in amazement. 

~I don’t know. We probably should . They’re Decepticons.~ replied Jetstorm, his expression torn. 

~Sunstorm gave us our camera back. And his brother let him. And Starscream fixed our wings. Maybe…?~ Jetfire couldn’t quite bring himself to finish the thought, but the suggestion was there nonetheless. 

“We are not having done the introductions!” suddenly decreed Jetfire, deciding to test and see if their new guard could be as alright as his brother. (Plus, upon seeing the blue Seeker relieve his orange brother, the idea of just being ‘the orange one’ and ‘the blue one’ seemed even more ridiculous.) “I am Jetfire.” “And Jetstorm,” “What is your designation being?” 

The larger blue Seeker turned around and gave the two of them a skeptical look, as if trying to find a trick, but ultimately puffed himself up proudly and replied, “ I am the mighty unbeatable Thundercracker. I have the best designation, and don’t listen to anyone who says otherwise.” 

“ ‘mighty and unbeatable Thundercracker’ “ repeated the orange Autobot with a mischievous grin, deciding to test their luck with their captor, “Is being a mouthful of a designation.” 

“Is, brother!” agreed his twin, picking up on his plan immediately and adding to it with a matching smile, “Perhaps be shortening it? Which is better part being, the ‘thunder’ or the ‘cracker’?” 

“Both parts are equally amazing!” inputted Thundercracker with a scowl, “However, you pathetic weaklings can just call me Thundercracker. ‘Master’, ‘Lord’, or ‘Your Highness’ are also acceptable, if the thought of saying my perfect name is too intimidating for you.”

Their playful grins weakened a moment, as the reply poignantly reminded them of the first time they had been introduced to Sentinel Prime. “Sentinel Prime sir for you two half pint rookies. If you can’t manage that, call me ‘Commander’, understood?” 

“Whatever you are saying, Thundercracker sir!” The tall Seeker gave them an odd look at the tacked on formality, as it was a bit of a joke only the twins would understand, but then nodded pompously as he determined it was a sign of respect. 

The Jettwins grinned at each other, sharing a mischievous feeling through their bonds. If Thundercracker was half as much like Sentinel as he seemed, it seemed like this guard session was going to be some fun.

Sunstorm walked away from the two small Seekers, musing deeply on their coding. Talking to them again about it hadn’t explained much more, and the more he reflected on it the more confused and worried over it he became. The argument that they had ‘just’ flight coding didn’t sit well with him. True to his word, he didn’t know much about code, but all the same the idea of having ‘just flight’ coding was a strange idea to the Seeker. Limited as his scientific knowledge was, he knew at some instinctive level that flying was what made a Seeker a Seeker, even more than it did for other flight-mode decepticons. Flight was at the core of everything their systems did, inextricably linked to all of their processes. There was no way it could be as unrelated as all that.  

Without conscious thought, he had started to wander through the base, lingering by the common room, passing slowly by Starscream’s office and peeking through the window, finally arriving in front of his creator’s room, where he stared at the door for a long moment, shuffling his wings hesitantly. He may not have been a scientific mech, but Starscream certainly was. He didn’t want to be rude, but if there was anyone who would have the answers to the important questions whirling in his processor it would be his creator. It was at least worth a shot, he could open the topic if nothing else. Pressing his hand to the opening panel (the locks still did not work, Sunstorm optimistically thought of it as deep down Starscream not wanting to keep them out of his life), he went into the other mech’s room. 

Starscream was leaning over his desk, frowning down at nothing that Sunstorm could see, and, at the sound of the door, immediately looked over with his usual exasperated expression at being interrupted; giving a resigned optic roll as he saw which particular one of his creations was bothering him this time. 

“Sunstorm, what are you doing in here?” he asked as he straightened his posture to one that was deliberately casual. 

Though Starscream’s hunched posture when he had entered gave Sunstorm a moment of worry, he brushed it aside, to ask the older mech his question, “Our wonderful guests Jetfire and Jetstorm told me they were given your remarkable coding--” 

“Yeah, what of it?” interrupted Starscream in a harsh snap, his posture tensing and fangs bared in an angry scowl. Sunstorm resisted the instinct to reset his optics in surprise at the overly hostile response. 

His instincts to worry had apparently been correct, and, slightly slower, more uncertain of his plan now he continued, though this time he watched Starscream carefully as he spoke, “I’m far from as brilliant a scientific mech as you, so I don't know exactly what happened, or what that ‘coding’ means, if you, in all of your superior intelligence, would be able to clarify for me it would be so graciously helpful.”

“Why would I bother?” retorted Starscream acidically, leaning back in his chair in another show of nonchalance, though the tightness of his cabling bespoke his stress, “You said it yourself, you’re no scientist, so explaining the intricate details of coding to you would be a waste of time, alright!” Starscream’s wings were tense, and his claws had started to dig into the metal of the desktop as he hissed, “There is nothing to explain so why don’t you leave?” Sunstorm stared at him with a frown for a heavy second, causing the magenta jet’s optic to twitch ever so slightly as he realized he was being less than subtle if he was wanting Sunstorm not to get worried. 

“Is everything alright, my majestic creator?” he couldn’t help himself from asking, now far more concerned about his creator than his original question. He frowned slightly guiltily, he hadn’t thought his mere scientific curiosity would have caused this harsh of a response. Usually Starscream loved espousing his scientific knowledge. He got like this when something was personal, and apparently Sunstorm had accidentally walked right into it. It seemed this coding was a big deal after all.  

Starscream’s expression soured, a familiar exasperation rising when he realized it was turning into one of these kind of Sunstorm conversations, and he cradled his head in his hand as he shook it,“Oh, no, nope. We're not doing this, Sunstorm.” He looked back up at his creation, lips in a stern line as he pointed between the orange Seeker and the door as he said authoritatively, “Take your little cyber puppy optics and shoo, scram! Everything's fine here.” 

Predictably, his stubborn Sun did nothing of the sort, instead continuing to stand there as he worried his hands and his wings tilted downwards. “I am deeply, sorrowfully regretful that my ignorant question has hurt you. I had no idea that the coding was that incredibly important. Is there anything my lowly self can do to help you, my all deserving creator?”

“You could just drop whatever sympathetic nonsense you have planned,” muttered Starscream bitterly, annoyed at his creation for bringing up what he had been trying (successfully, thank you for asking!) to avoid thinking about.  

Sunstorm was undeterred by that suggestion, instead clasping his hands fretfully as he suggested with a worried frown, “If it is not too bold of me to ask: What happened? Was it those dedicatedly persistent Autobots?” For the first time it occurred to Sunstorm to wonder just how the Autobots had gotten any of Starscream’s code in the first place. Before it had seemed like a surface level thing, but with Starscream’s reaction… A current of dread passed through him as he thought about how the mech Perceptor had been willing to make his own suffer so much. If he had done all that to Autobots, it was chilling to consider the scientific mech accessing any code of his creator’s.

“ ‘ Was it the Autobots ’ ” echoed the older Seeker mockingly, “What do you think?!” he snapped, before he pinched between his optics, ex-venting slowly in frustration. He hadn’t meant to say even that much to his do-good creation, but this whole interaction was bringing many things to the surface he had just been suffering at his desk trying not to consider. Memories of hands in his chassis; wires in his processor; surprise, shock, and scientific glee at finding his spark chamber empty. Digging and rooting through his every line of coding, his every bit of protoform, trying to unravel the mystery of how Seekers worked. It had been as agonizing as it had been humiliating -- the Autobot scientists had been thorough in their work. Whenever Decepticon science had attempted such a thorough deconstruction of a mech, always the processor would shatter first, putting the mech offline before they could get to the personality core. Starscream had spent a not-inconsiderable amount of time reflecting that it was probably only through the fluke of luck of his Allspark shard that he hadn’t met a similar fate under the over-eager hands of the Autobot scientists. And darn it Sunstorm he had been doing so well not thinking about this. 

Chopping at the air, he said harshly,  “Look, as impossible a request as I know it is for you, maybe for once leave it alone , huh?”

Sunstorm was, in fact, giving him a worried, wide-opticked look. He wanted to comfort his creator, if not with a hug (which he generally found too human to be comforting), then at least with a sympathetic touch to his wings. But, with a significant level of restraint, he kept his distance. Starscream was never one for physical signs of affection, especially sympathetic ones. Even now, he only let others near his wings to preen, and similarly only had contact with his creations’ wings to clean them. He didn’t like leaving it, but he knew his creator well enough to know he wouldn’t get any further with his concerns right this moment. With his wings still tilted downwards worriedly, he reluctantly nodded slowly, acquiescing, “Of course, of course. It was a presumptuous question of me. Your wisdom far surpasses my own, I should trust that you will tell us what is important.” 

“Well you’re forgiven for making that mistake, at least this time,” replied Starscream. “Now get outta here and go do something else. Even watch that processor rotting television,” he dismissed the younger mech with a wave towards his door and the halls beyond. 

Giving one more reluctant nod, Sunstorm headed towards the door, though he cast frequent looks backwards at his creator as he left. Not having any other idea, he followed Starscream’s suggestion and set off towards the common room, but his step slowed to a stop before he got there, and he simply stood in the middle of the hall, frowning in thought over the whole interaction. Not only did he not get to fully ask his question, but now something was worryingly the matter with his creator.  

His wings fluttered in thought as he reflected. In some ways, he had gotten an answer, even if he hadn’t gotten to ask the question. Whatever the Autobots had taken from Starscream, whatever coding was given to the Autobot jets, it must have been something significant , something deep to cause that reaction. And however that had happened greatly bothered his creator still. He wished he could have at least told him what it was so he knew what he was worrying over. And, now that he was thinking about it further, was whatever the Autobots did to Starscream done to Jetfire and Jetstorm? That sounded… horrible . They had said it was just shallow flight functions, but it was looking more and more like that wasn’t true. What did the Autobots do to them? How much were they changed? 

~ Sunstorm ~ suddenly came several annoyed mental voices, and Sunstorm was torn from his fretful musing as he was met with the feelings of resigned annoyance and curious concern from his brothers. (Slipstream kept such a tight handle on her side of the bond that even if she was feeling annoyed by what he was sending, she wasn't letting anyone else know.) 

~ What’s got you so worked up now ?~ teased Ramjet, a current of concern underlying his cheeky jab. 

~Will you stop?~ snapped Thundercracker at the same time, seeming extra annoyed for whatever reason (Sunstorm hoped absently that everything was going alright with the Autobots),  ~You’re gonna send Warp into hysterics and none of us need that.~

~Heeeey no he won’t! No I won’t!~argued Skywarp defensively, ~I can deal with Sunstorm’s worry by now ! ~ 

Even if Sunstorm had at some point gained the title of ‘worrywart’, that didn’t mean his worry was ever for no reason, and even despite all the complaining there was a degree of concern from all of his siblings. His wings twitched in consideration as he thought over what to say. He didn’t want to tell Ramjet, at least, that he had been worrying over the Autobots (Thundercracker and Skywarp might not have been bothered by that, though), so he sidestepped that part of it for now, instead explaining truthfully enough, ~Something about our prisoners~ (he managed to avoid referring to them as ‘guests’ for Ramjet’s sake), ~is bothering our beloved creator. I tried to ask about them and it made him very upset.~ 

~That makes two of us,~ returned Ramjet, his annoyance deepening.

~I can relate. They are annoying ,~ TC paused for a moment, before adding proudly, ~Although they do know a gorgeous model for photography when they see one.~ 

~Wait, when did they get their camera ?~ the liar shot back, getting an immediate answer in the form of Sunstorm’s sheepish guilt. 

~I’m sure they wouldn’t use it to escape,~ he defended meekly. 

~Even if they did, I could take them, easily,~ boasted Thundercracker, ~And it lets them take pictures of me so I think it was a great idea-- almost like I came up with it myself!~ 

~Aw, why thank you,~ replied Sunstorm, ~You’re too kind.~ 

~You’re gonna relax towards our enemies just because they fuel your ego ?~ asked Ramjet scathingly, and then immediately realized that that was a really dumb question to ask the ego clone himself, and dropped that criticism with a sharp, ~Never mind.~ 

~I’m sorry,~ said Sunstorm in response to the sulking betrayal starting to roll off of Ramjet, ~I really think it is going to be alright.~ He tried his best to console his distressed brother, ~Jetfire and Jetstorm are perfectly pleasant mechs. They told me so much about Cybertron.~ 

Ramjet didn’t reply with words, instead giving a sharp stab of furious denial before distancing himself from the sibling bond entirely, leaving Sunstorm to droop in guilty regret where he stood in the hall. 

~So you really think they’re safe?~ asked Skywarp nervously. 

Sunstorm broke out of his guilt to soothe his anxious brother, ~Yes, I’m sure they’re perfectly safe. They really are very nice mechs.~ 

~They’re totally harmless,~ asserted Thundercracker, similarly attempting to calm Skywarp, ~Obnoxious little ingrates but too soft to be dangerous.~ 

~But if they’re even concerning Starscream that sounds like a big deal…~ 

~Oh, no, no, that’s not what’s wrong, don’t worry.~ Sunstorm tried to assuage his nervous sibling, ~It’s not that they’re dangerous . There’s just something about their coding…~ 

Something about their coding . Something about the coding they had from Starscream that brought defensive fear from the older mech just at the mention of it. Something about the coding that was powerful enough to change their entire frames. Important enough to warrant an entire team of Autobot scientists to work with it. Something about the coding that was major enough that suggestions of its importance sent the two Autobots recoiling. A sudden shock of realization shot through Sunstorm as he puzzled through the possible significance of the code. Could it even be that they had Starscream’s CNA, he suddenly wondered, his optics widening at the startling idea. 

~Sunstorm?~ worried Skywarp at the other Seeker’s sudden shift in mood. 

~Sunstorm, what ?~ asked Thundercracker. 

~What?~ he returned absently, optics frantically darting back and forth in thought over his remarkable theory. 

Thundercracker gave a disgruntled prod at his side of the bond, reiterating, ~ What was with that? What’s so interesting all of the sudden?~ 

Sunstorm thought about telling his brothers his theories on the two Autobots’ coding, but hesitated. Ramjet was still very angry at the two Bots, that was clear from his irritable state when he had left the conversation, and he definitely wouldn’t appreciate suggestions that the two might have been closer to the Seekers than anyone would have thought. And, really, even if they weren’t as mad at the Autobots as Ramjet, he wasn’t sure his other siblings would really take the idea any better. And he wasn’t sure about his theory, anyway, so he didn’t want to risk upsetting everyone if he ended up being very wrong. So instead he just did his best to suppress his feelings in the bond (which was something he was not generally very good at), replying, ~Not anything very important.~ 

It was pretty clear that neither of his brothers really believed that, but, with a sudden spike of annoyance, Thundercracker distractedly dismissed, ~Yeah sure whatever.~ , his presence in the bond turning more turbulent as he probably had something more immediate to deal with. TC’s feelings cut out from the bond, and, with one more worried jab, Skywarp followed, the bonds between the siblings distancing out and leaving Sunstorm more or less alone to his thoughts. 

After a quick second to check that none of his musing was spilling over into the sibling bond, Sunstorm stared intensely at the floor as his thoughts spiralled. If it was CNA the Autobots had taken from Starscream, then it was no wonder he didn’t want to talk about it. That came right from the spark (or spark-equivalent, Sunstorm habitually substituted), even Sunstorm knew that much. It was how they had all been created after all. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like for the Autobots to rummage through that . And then, he started to sort out, doing his best to tamper down the rising excitement he had at the idea, if Jetfire and Jetstorm also had Starscream’s CNA, did that make them related? Even though he felt a bit selfish considering the silver lining to whatever horrible thing had befallen his creator, he couldn’t get the idea to go away. How much CNA did one have to share to count as related? How much of Starscream’s CNA did they even have ? Glancing back towards where he knew the two captured Jets were, he wondered with a thrill of guilty excitement if the two mech in the cell could be more important than he thought.

Chapter Text

The Jettwins had forgotten about escape plans entirely, as they had actually been having not too terrible of a time as prisoners these last few hours. Thundercracker had been as easy to goad as they had thought -- but then surprisingly was easily distracted into not being mad anymore with the prospect of attention and anything even slightly taken as a compliment. Jetfire was suddenly getting a lot of use out of his recently returned camera, but he enjoyed taking pictures so didn’t mind. And he was getting plenty of entertainment over his brother and his guard fighting over who should be the focus of the shot. 

And so the Jettwins were less than thrilled when their new guard approached, and they saw that it was Ramjet. The white Seeker seemed to share the sentiment, glaring at the twins with a sneer as he walked over to their cell. Jetfire shot the arriving mech a cheeky smirk as he held his camera to the side in a tight grip. 

“Hello again lying Starscream,” he greeted playfully, lifting his camera up slightly, “Are you wanting also some of the photo-graphy?” 

Ramjet was pointedly reminded of the last time he had gotten his picture taken by the two, his frown deepening into a scowl which after a moment he then turned onto his brother. Thundercracker was unaffected by his ire, simply shrugging his shoulders dramatically and rolling his optics. 

“Oh, puh-lease. I’m guarding,” he held a hand proudly to his chest, “Their chances of escape are hopeless with or without the stupid camera,” he argued, waving dismissively towards the jets in the cell. Ramjet didn’t bother arguing back, instead crossing his arms and glaring deeper. The blue Seeker huffed, rolling his optics again before moving to relinquish his position. 

“Bye bye Thundercracker sir!” said Jetstorm as he left, “Be taking the pictures with you again soon, we hope! Only I am going to be in more of them!” 

“Your tiny little processor wishes ,” shot back TC without looking back. 

And now the twins were stuck with Ramjet again, who continued to scowl at his parting brother’s back. While he was turned away from the Autobots for the moment, Jetfire set the camera aside, tucking it as much into the corner as he could, shuffling the old empty oil cans in front of it since there weren’t many places to hide it. He didn’t trust the white Seeker not to try and take it from them. (Though, realistically, there wasn’t much he could do if the larger Seeker decided he wanted to.) 

Jetstorm nudged at his side as he finished placing the camera down, giving him a thoughtful prod over the twin bond as the blue Autobot regarded their most recent captor. ~Do you think Ramjet can be like the other two?~ he wondered. Already some of the Decepticons were turning out to be a lot less horrible than the autobot jets had expected, so the chance of Ramjet also being ok was higher than they had thought it could be. 

Glancing at the fuming Seeker, Jetfire replied, ~I kinda doubt it.~ Jetstorm shrugged as the Decepticon settled angrily against the wall. There was a beat of silence where Jetstorm weighed the idea of being intentionally nice to the Decepticon, before Ramjet broke it, declaring nonchalantly without shifting his posture a bit, “We found your Autobot friends. They’re being tortured, slowly, painfully. Any secrets you want to spill so we might spare them?” 

The Autobots had a moment of alarm at the statement, before they quickly realized who it was coming from and they just pouted instead. “You are liar. That is not happening,” retorted Jetstorm testily. 

“Oh, you’re right, they’re actually all offline. They wandered right into our trap while they were looking for you ,” he threw out equally casually, still not even looking at the jets behind him. 

“No they are not ,” countered Jetfire harshly, getting nervous despite knowing these were all lies. 

“Maybe we can use them for a science experiment. The Decepticon scientists will love having some Autobot test subjects,” he hissed venomously, giving up on his feigned nonchalance. 

Jetfire brought his hands over his audials, his wings pinning back in distress as he tried to drown out the threatening lies,“La la la la, I am not listening!” 

“Can you not be releasing the grudge already?” complained Jetstorm, “ Sunstorm has.” 

“Well, good for him,” muttered Ramjet bitterly, “Trusting Autobots, that won’t end up blowing up in his face.” 

“Fine, be liking that,” exasperated Jetstorm,regretting ever giving the lying Seeker the benefit of the doubt, as he attempted to throw his hands in the air. The gesture was made less dramatic as it was cut short by his cuffed hands, but he felt his point was made. 

“What we are expecting from a Decepticon ,” sassed Jetfire, echoing his twin’s thoughts with a slow shake of his head. 

“Unlike you Autobots, who are perfect angels,” retorted Ramjet acidically, finally looking down at the captives, his wings hiked angrily in a way that made the already imposing height difference even more threatening.  

Undeterred, since they didn’t understand the reference anyway, Jetfire pointed accusingly at the taller Seeker as he claimed, “Ah- hah ! Now you are trying to confuse us with the made up words!” 

“Is to be suspected from plotting Cons!” agreed Jetstorm, fully doubling back on his opinions of Ramjet. 

The black and white Seeker gave them both a flat, judgmental look, and the twins’ wings twitched when this time his expression seemed less like he was mad at them, and more like he thought they were idiots. They didn’t like that much better. 

They went through a routine of the vengeful Seeker trying to get under their plating and the Jettwins trying to ignore him, until his shift was finally done. Ramjet stormed out with his fists clenched tightly at his sides, barely giving his relieving brother a glance as he stomped away. The new Seeker, the quiet black one, gave the departing Con a worried look, playing with his hands nervously before, with a quick glance down at the Jettwins, he took his place in front of their cell without a word.  

Jetfire felt it was safe enough to get his camera back out. He messed with the device sullenly, not planning to do anything with it and mostly just wanting something in his hands after having to deal with the stress of Ramjet’s lying threats. The Seeker in front of their cell stood rigidly, his wings twitching constantly as he shot frequent wary glances back towards the prisoners, only to swiftly look away again. He visibly flinched when the Jettwin absently lifted the camera to his optic -- cringing away a few steps down the hall. Jetfire put down the camera to share a look with his twin, who shrugged resignedly. It looked like they were dealing with another strange Decepticon. 

Curious what would happen, Jetfire took up the camera again, this time snapping a picture of the larger Seeker. As soon as the flash went off, the Decepticon ducked down with a startled cry, his arms going over his head protectively. “AAAHHH!” he shrieked as he cowarded, “No, no ! A blinding sneak attack! I knew this would happen, why do I have to do guard duty?!” He shook where he crouched, his wings pinned flat against his back while the Jettwins just stared. 

“Uum, no? Is just camera,” explained Jetfire as he held out the captured photo for him to see. 

Skywarp didn’t move for a long moment, but eventually he slowly peaked out from behind his arms as he mustered the courage to look at the picture. He cringed at it, feeling like there was something just uncanny about seeing an image of himself. “S-so what’s that for? Doing something terrible, I b-bet. Making a wanted poster or, or doodling mean things on it or it’s some kind of horrible Autobot technology that’ll steal my spark!” his frame resumed its shaking as he went through his theories, his hands thrown over his optics as if the two would disappear if he just didn’t look at them.  

“We are not wanting your spark,” retorted Jetfire with a roll of his optics, setting the troublemaking camera down and giving it a small nudge away. 

“Autobots are not to be spark stealing, it would be not right,” claimed Jetstorm. 

When this didn’t seem to reach the taller jet at all, Jetfire huffed, “What you are thinking Autobots are ?” Between him and Ramjet the Jettwin was getting annoyed with all the negative reactions towards his faction.    

“A dangerous scary military faction that I’m stuck with right now!” the black Seeker squealed out immediately, still not looking at the Jettwins as his shoulders hiked in fear. He had heard (kind of) what these two specifically had put Sunstorm and Ramjet through and had heard enough about the rest of the Autobots that he just kept getting worse and worse ideas of what the two could do to him , his shaking only intensifying as he spiraled, his vents coming rapidly to prevent his frame from overheating in his panic. Gone were the assurances of Sunstorm from earlier, lost in his ever deepening assumptions and fears. 

The Jettwins watched on in confusion. They had daydreamed before while in the Elite Guard that sending a Decepticon cowering would be the coolest toughest thing they could think of, but now that it was happening it was just kind of sad. 

~Should we…do something?~ wondered Jetfire. 

As they stared, suddenly the panicking Seeker just…calmed down. In a quick moment he went from doubling over in fear to taking an in-vent and steadying himself, his wings lifting up thoughtfully. With widening optics the Jettwins sharply remembered Sunstorm’s claims about the clones all sharing a twin bond, and realized they were seeing proof of it in real time. It made the most sense to explain how quickly Skywarp recovered from his hysterics; taking one more in-vent, before he looked back down at the twins, still shaking slightly but freed from his paralyzing ball of fear. The twins’ sudden suspicions about what was going on were all but confirmed when Thundercracker came rushing in not an instant later, his hands immediately running over the other Seeker’s wing while the two muttered something that the Jettwins could not catch. 

The blue jet swiftly turned on the Autobots, his hands clenched into accusatory fists in front of him with his armor bristling and his wings tense in agitation, “What did you two scummy Autobots do to my brother?!” 

The twins were ready to defend themselves, but didn’t have to as Skywarp was already laying a halting hand on his brother’s arm, interjecting, “ They didn’t do anything TC, it was just,” he sighed heavily before ending in a flat, disappointed, voice, “ me .” 

Thundercrackers optics darted between the prisoners and his brother, his wings flickering once before his posture gradually relaxed. “Hmm,” he hummed in thoughtful dissatisfaction, “Perhaps a more suitable guard should take over,” he suggested. Despite his lofty tone, his wings tensed in something the Jettwins’ processors kept translating as worried , only serving to confuse the Autobots again. It seemed more and more like Ramjet was the only Decepticon around here who actually acted like a Decepticon. The rest of them kept acting like normal mechs and it was freaking the two Autobots out a bit. 

“No, you were doing something, I’ll be ok,” replied Skywarp, holding a hand over his spark. 

Thundercracker stared at the ground a moment before relenting, “Alright. I’ll be watching you to make sure of it.” He gave the Autobots a parting protective glare before leaving again. Skywarp didn’t try to talk to them for the rest of his shift, but he didn’t freak out again either. They wondered just how much help his siblings were giving him -- if Decepticon siblings cared about each other enough that they would help him. They hadn’t ever met Decepticon siblings before -- hadn’t really thought about such a thing existing -- so they had no idea.  

Even calmer as he was, Skywarp was still immensely relieved when his turn was up, literally vanishing as soon as the femme arrived to take over. The Jettwins stared while Slipstream didn’t even flinch from her brother’s teleporting, instead silently leaning against the wall as she got out a datapad and proceeded to completely ignore the twins. They couldn’t help glancing at their guard every now and again, wondering if every absent wing flick was twin bond communication or not, shocked anew at these Decepticon clones being real spark siblings. However, nothing they said to Slipstream was met with any response, and they were honestly starting to wonder if she had completely shut off her audial receptors. They weren’t getting anywhere new, so the novelty of proving the clones were siblings was quickly being overtaken by boredom by the time Sunstorm mercifully showed back up. 

When he came back for another round on guard duty, Sunstorm couldn’t stop staring at the Jettwins as he was once again standing across from them outside of their cell. Where before he had just been curious, now he was intently looking for any signs of his theory. And he knew he wasn’t really hiding it, based on the uneasy expressions the autobot jets had at his intense scrutiny. With a pang of guilt he sat down, moving to stare at his hands awkwardly instead. 

“So, were you wonderful mechs wanting to show off more of your fantastic photography?” he asked with a grin, hoping to move past the awkwardness he had caused. 

The twins shared a look with each other, but, with a joint shrug, showed the bigger Seeker what they had been up to. Sunstorm genuinely admired the many new pictures of Thundercracker that had made their way into the gallery, feeling unexpectedly relieved at how much of a good time it looked like his brother was having in them (well, barring a few candids, but even in those he only looked annoyed, and even Sunstorm could admit that his temperamental brother was pretty easy to annoy). 

“Thundercracker is bigger pig of camera than brother,” remarked Jetfire with a smirk, to which his twin stuck his nasal ridge haughtily in the air with an attempt at crossing his arms. Sunstorm chuckled good naturedly at the assessment and the brotherly bickering, then slightly more stealthily than before (he hoped), looked back and forth between the image of Thundercracker and the blue jet in front of him, searching for similarities. (Not that he even knew what he would be looking for. Sunstorm just figured he’d know when he saw it.) 

“Wanting to see some others of old photos?” asked Jetfire, already at work at scrolling back through the timeline. 

“Oh, of course! A marvelous idea,” answered Sunstorm with a nod, even as he felt a beat of disappointment at not discovering anything conclusive. 

They fell back into what had swiftly become a routine of flipping through pictures, enjoying telling the setting and stories behind most of them. Sunstorm complimented the camerawork somewhat absently, his processor more focused on the bots in the shot than the pictures themselves as he thought. He was shaken from his contemplation, and his easy grin faltered when he saw the next photo was a picture of both of the Autobots posed proudly next to a mech that Sunstorm recognized all too well. 

“This is us being on first mission with Sentinel Prime sir!” exclaimed the orange Autobot, sounding oddly excited. 

Sunstorm tried not to grimace as the two Autobots brightened at the photo of the Prime, more than they even had while talking about Cybertron the day before. 

“We helped Sentinel Prime sir taking down giant wasp things threatening Cybertronian colony!” Jetfire jabbed at the air a few times, his bound hands not denting his enthusiasm as he grinned widely.

“Giant wasps could not be out-flying our very epic moves,” bragged Jetstorm, proudly remembering how important they had been in that first mission. 

“Mission was certainly ‘bugging’ Sentinel Prime sir,” noted Jetfire, his smile slanting. He looked down at the photo again, his smile faltering from a pang of homesickness from the captured moment with his commander. Though the mech in the picture was scowling, his shoulders were loose and relaxed, and his finials held a lax tilt, his optics containing a gimmer of amusement that came through in the shot. “This was first battle we had outside sim. I almost had surprise taken by an attack but Sentinel Prime sir was to be saving me.” 

“Yes, then calling you ‘glitched in the helm’, brother,” added Jetstorm with a snicker. Sobering some, he said, “Is difficult to be showing it, but Sentinel Prime sir was to be worried about us. His words were not to be saying so, but,” the blue jet smirked again, but there was an undercurrent of warmth in the expression, “Picture is worth thousands of words, yes?” 

Try as he might, Sunstorm couldn’t manage more than a weak, wane smile at the retelling, barely glancing back at the image of the Prime. While he had mostly forgiven the two Autobot Seekers, he was having a hard time extending that to the Prime, despite the two’s fond words towards the mech. He remembered all too well the harsh comments and threats of Sentinel, and while he knew now that the Jettwins had been more or less dragged into it without knowing what they were doing, he couldn’t say the same for the Prime. Instead he just commented weakly, “A thrilling adventure,” hoping that would be the end of it. 

Things actually just got worse when the next picture was of Blitzwing captured behind Autobot stasis fields, and then, when Jetfire hastily skipped past that one, himself. They all went stonily silent staring at that one, the weight of their brief history being thrown into the room. The Jettwins shifted uneasily looking at the picture, the differences between the Sunstorm sitting beside them and the fallen, wary-opticked sycophant clone in the photo standing out starkly. 

“This was our first big mission in Elite Guard,” said Jetstorm, suddenly feeling a need to justify the picture. 

“No small tiny threats on distant planets, but helping to capture real Decepticons,” Jetfire chimed in. “It was super important deal.” 

Sunstorm turned his head away from the photo and the twins, his wings dipping down besides him as he was reminded of that unpleasant time. Without thinking, he rasped out in near whisper, saying what he had wanted to say way back when, “Ramjet and I didn’t know anything, we were useless to capture.” 

The Jettwins cringed at the mention of the lying jet. Jetfire quickly set the camera onto the floor. He didn’t want to look at the next picture. But even without looking at it he knew they were all now thinking of that moment; could see the picture in their mind’s eye of Ramjet battered and stasis-cuffed, glaring hatefully into the camera. The same sort of glare he had turned on them earlier that day. Thinking about the two back to back made the Jettwins suddenly uneasy, even more so looking at Sunstorm’s suddenly despondent posture which brought him closer to the sycophant clone in the photo than he had been this whole time. It was strange, how they looked just the same, but also now something was entirely different. 

While the Jettwins were contemplating that, Sunstorm shook his head once to clear it, adding in strained attempted cheer as he turned back to them, “But! Blitzwing was a commanding presence, I can certainly understand. Really it’s flattering you saw such importance in Ramjet and I, despite us not being true Decepticons.” 

Already feeling uncertain over their past actions, the two double-taked at the sudden statement, looking at each other, and then at their guard in surprise, “You are saying you are not Decepticon?” asked Jetfire in disbelief.  

The tall Seeker shifted uncertainly, his wings flexing and showing his Decepticon brands prominently. “Well, the Decepticons are fine mechs, don’t get me wrong, but we spent regrettably little time with them. They never officially made us a part of the Decepticons, which was so smart of them! Perhaps if we had had the privilege of being around them longer…” he trailed off, shrugging. 

“That’s right!” said Jetfire, his optics widening in realization, “You and other Starscream clone escaped without them!”

“Ramjet,” interjected Sunstorm pointedly. “And, yes,” he continued, “Ramjet and I unfortunately had to leave them behind. Too bad, truly. They were such impressively efficient mechs, a fine pair of imposing leaders, it was a gift to have even been considered drones under their mighty leadership.” 

The Jettwins both frowned at that, unnerved for a reason they couldn’t quite name. 

“Slipstream, wonderfully independent femme that she is, had even less time in their company than we did. And, though it is a pity, Skywarp and Thundercracker were never so lucky as to make the other Decepticons’ acquaintance. Now, perhaps Starscream, in his unequivocal wisdom may see it differently, I’m not sure, my woefully forgetful processor has never thought to ask, but to my humble optics, I think we have been quite well without the Decepticons.” 

“Wait. You are saying all you Seekers not being with the Decepticons?” reiterated Jetstorm, not quite believing that such a claim was possible. 

Sunstorm stared at them with an incomprehension that quickly turned to surprise. It hadn’t occurred to him until now that the two thought that they were , and he was happy to clear up that misunderstanding, “Oh, no , no no, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding, no, we aren't with the Decepticons. Sadly, I haven’t seen them in years. Er, stellar cycles.” 

All of their (granted, sparse) planning shattered at the revelation. All of their assumptions about what the Seekers would do and how long the Jettwins would be here hinged on the simple, undebated fact that they were with the Decepticons. Sure, operating under a weirdly remote part of the faction, but, to the Jettwins, there had never been a question of the Seekers’ loyalties. Now they were at a complete loss, and Jetstorm was scrambling to try and fill in the gaps and piece something else together. “So what is big plan for you not-Decepticon decepticon Seekers, then?” he blurted out.  

Sunstorm reset his optics in thought at the question. He had never really considered the idea of them all having any kind of plan . There hadn’t been one since Starscream had activated them all and told them they were going to take down Megatron, and Sunstorm couldn’t say he had felt the need for one since they had all reunited to live in their Earth home. “Uhh,” he faltered a moment, “Well, if our majestic creator were to decide it, I suppose we would be helping him take a well-deserved place in charge of the Decepticons, but he has oh so prudently refrained from any action. For the moment, I guess we are simply enjoying the wonderful gifts we have to offer each other, and this lovely planet.” 

“But you are not doing nothing ?” stressed Jetstorm, “The strategies, or the plotting, or the training or… anything ?”

“Ah! We’ve been working on developing this spectacular base,” pointed out Sunstorm proudly once he realized it was actually something resembling a plan, “Everyone has been so hardworking and successful at it, too! It’s become a perfect home.” The two Autobots were still staring at him in a sort of open-mouthed disappointment, so, considering that wasn’t enough of an answer for them he kept going, thinking of more and more examples of what they all have been doing over the years, “I’ve been making a humble exploration of Earth,” Sunstorm offered brightly, happy to discuss his small personal project, “And I believe Slipstream -- brilliant scientific femme that she is!-- has been making stunning work on projects my ignorant processor can’t begin to fully grasp! Oh,” he spoke more eagerly, gaining more energy the more he gushed about his family, “Skywarp has become a masterful artist, and finds the most intriguing riddles to tell.” 

“Wow, is all that, huh,” interjected Jetfire sarcastically, nearly annoyed at how benign it all was. The whole conversation had turned surreal, only moreso at Sunstorm’s casual ideas of what the Seekers’ devious ‘plots’ were.  

“My siblings are remarkably talented, really the most skilled Cybertronians!” looking down and realizing that the twins didn’t look any more pleased, he backpedalled, assuming he had offended them somehow, “But I’m sure you have equally fascinating hobbies!” he complimented placatingly. 

The Jettwins shifted uneasily, nearly unable to remember the last time that they had had the time to do civilian hobbies like art or exploration. They were able to sneak it in sometimes -- snatching moments to take pictures under the guise of keeping records or lingering on scouting flights as much as they were able-- but their Elite Guard duties always came first. There was a reason they had been so excited about going on leave. Maybe before their reformat they had had more time, but those memories always managed to be a little fuzzy, which only made it seem like even longer. Feeling suddenly like they were being judged, they quickly turned on Sunstorm, Jetstorm asking heatedly, “If there is no big evil plot thing, why is we being here ?” 

“Umm,” Sunstorm stammered again, torn from his happy bubble of yapping about his family as he was starkly reminded of the ongoing issue of Starscream not being very upfront about his plan for the two. The autobot jets were leveling him with sullen looks, and he replied regretfully, “That is sadly beyond my insignificant processor. It is in the servos of my competent creator.” 

This didn’t lift the spirits of the twins at all, and the rest of his shift was made very awkward as the two fell oddly silent. Even if he still cared about his theory, staring at them would only make things more awkward, so he just stood up and moved aside for the rest of his shift. 

Chapter Text

The end of Sunstorm’s shift was nearing, and the awkward atmosphere had not yet faded. He peeked back over his shoulder at the two in the cell, and saw that the Jettwins were just sitting silently on the floor, their optic ridges furrowed in thought. They looked unhappy, and he felt a moment of guilt at ruining the amenity that had formed between them. 

Fully turning around, he said emphatically, “I don’t, of course, hold any of that against you. You were being such admirably loyal mechs, completely diligent at your jobs. Really, your dedication was impressive more than anything!” 

The two autobots gave him confused, and slightly lost, looks as he spoke. The twins shared a brief glance with each other, only looking more perturbed by his reassurance. Truthfully, with the revelation that he didn’t consider himself a Con, not to mention being so easy-going and forgiving them, it was starting to make the Jettwins a bit guilty. And it kind of sucked seeing Sunstorm so…beat down, after they had gotten to know his more cheerful self. It made the reminder image of him bound and gagged feel all the worse. But if he wasn’t a Con, they realized,  that also meant there was no reason not to be friendly with him, and their postures raised optimistically from their dreary droop. 

“We know,” replied Jetfire, a smile making its way back to his face. 

“We are all chilled, now,” declared Jetstorm easily, sweeping a hand in front of him (and his other being dragged along for the ride) as if clearing off a desk, “cleaning the slate!” 

“Oh, good!” The complimenting Seeker sighed with a wave of relief that they weren't upset with him. He had come to enjoy the autobots’ company and didn’t want to ruin it, even more so if they were related. (He always hated fighting with his family, more than any other kind of conflict.) 

“Even if now in cell,” added the smaller orange jet, more teasingly than anything, but it still caused Sunstorm a moment of pause. 

Before that can of worms could be fully explored, the burgeoning conversation was interrupted as Thundercracker arrived to relieve him. “Everything going alright here?” he asked authoritatively as he stepped into place, at the same time giving Sunstorm a pointed inquisitive poke over the sibling bond, no doubt worried from his uncharacteristic anxious stress a minute ago.

“Oh, yes! No, yes, everything is just fine,” he reassured, hands flapping dismissively. “A misunderstanding that was my own fault, but our guests were so gracious to move past it,” he gestured grandly towards the Autobots. 

His brother gave him a judging look for another second, but dropped it and waved him away in dismissal. 

Giving the Autobots a parting wave, Sunstorm made for the common room to refuel. Skywarp and Ramjet were already there when he arrived; though, other than a quick nervous look upwards from Skywarp, neither addressed his entrance. Ramjet was seated in the furthest corner of their mismatched pile of cushioning that made up their couch as he could manage, a half drum of oil in his hands as he stared viciously at the floor. Even as he was completely cut off from the spark bond, Sunstorm could hazard a guess what he was upset over. Warp, meanwhile, kept his gaze fixed on his own fuel, his presence a vague murmur of nervousness that wasn’t unusual, but also wasn’t encouraging to how he was doing, either. Sunstorm had sensed the other jet’s panic attack earlier just as strongly, Thundercracker had just reacted quicker and had insisted he could handle it. Mood dropping, Sunstorm grabbed a canister for himself, moving to sit right next to Ramjet. Exuding as much comfort and understanding as he could muster (closed off bond or not), he nudged his fuming brother’s shoulder. 

“Are you alright, dear brother?” he asked simply. 

The other jet clenched the metal can in his hands tighter, responding flatly, “Peachy.” 

There was still not a hint from him in the bond, and concern and despair flared in Sunstorm’s spark. After being so recently reminded of what the Autobots had done to his brother, the orange Seeker could understand what Ramjet was going through. His gaze darted to the black and white Seeker’s crooked wing as he frowned. He didn’t know what he could say to help. His brother didn't believe his reassurances about the two Autobots, and Sunstorm truly didn't hold any of what happened against the two anymore, so he couldn't bring himself to insult and smear them. 

Not knowing what to do for that brother, he turned with equal worry to his other one, whose gaze darted around the room. “Are you , alright, Skywarp?” 

The nervous jet startled, but after looking towards Sunstorm, calmed to the point where he was really no more anxious than usual. “O-oh, yeah. I’m fine. Fine as I ever am, anyway,” he tacked on with dry humor. Reflecting a moment, he said hopefully,“Honestly, I thought this would be a lot worse. I mean, I only had one panic attack. And it wasn’t even one of my worst ones.” 

Ramjet’s posture stiffened as he let out a scoffing hiss. Even not knowing what to say, Sunstorm at least threw a comforting arm around his upset brother’s shoulder. Ramjet gave him an unamused, tired glare, but opened up the sibling bond enough to send over a faint current of appreciation. With a grateful grin and a rush of relief, the orange Seeker tugged his brother closer a moment before letting go, and turning conversation to something other than their new captives. 

But by the time they were heading back to their room, Sunstorm knew he really should say something .  As their door shut behind them, the orange jet fidgeted with his hands, starting hesitantly, “Ramjet…” 

His brother gave him a suspicious look, sensing his hesitance and conflicting emotions over the sibling bond. 

“Your protectiveness, your sense of justice is most admirable, dear brother. I wish I could possess even a fraction of your passionate dedication, but regrettably I do not. Although, even through my regrettable weakness I’ve been able to discover many wonderful things, it’s been quite the gift, actually!” 

“Sunstorm,” growled Ramjet warningly. 

The complimenter’s expression grew strained. “I hate seeing you hurt--” 

“And you don’t think the Autobots have something to do with that?” he scoffed. 

“I know ,” assured Sunstorm, far from a stranger to why the two Bots caused his brother to be so upset, “but they really aren’t that bad of mechs, I promise!” he insisted again, to be met with another furious look from Ramjet. He scrambled, his spark torn as he understood his brother’s rage completely, but equally couldn’t stand such anger pointed at the two new Seekers. He just wanted everyone to be happy! “They had no say in helping the Autobots, no more than we did with the Decepticons!” Sunstorm desperately tried to reason, “They do not deserve to be prisoners, and--” 

“Did you forget what they did ?!” he screamed in retort, his wings flaring as he pointed his thumb harshly at the crooked limb. 

Sunstorm did remember, he remembered quite well, and the memory made him feel slightly ill. At Ramjet’s, not just angry, but distraught face he crumpled, his voice turning soft, “Your anger is justified, but if you aim it at Jetfire and Jetstorm you are concentrating on an enemy that does not exist. We’re probably going to be graced with Jetfire and Jetstorm’s remarkable presences for a long time yet,” (or even longer if Sunstorm’s suspicions were true, though Ramjet probably wouldn’t appreciate hearing that), “and it will just make you angry and upset and my weak spark can’t stand seeing it.”

Ramjet turned away, stonily silent, and Sunstorm hunched disappointedly in making no more progress than before. He thought about his theory, his mouth open and the words on the edge of his vocaliser, but swiftly closed his mouth again and retreated from the idea. No, it wouldn’t mean anything to Ramjet. His clever brother didn’t trust so easily; character needed to be proven to him. Right now his brother was hurt and he hated it, and nothing he was saying was helping. His wings wilted across his back defeatedly. “I say this because I care about you, brother,” he said in a near whisper. 

Ramjet sighed, rubbing at his helm frustratedly. He knew that, that was never the question. Despite everything, he wasn’t mad at Sunstorm, he was just … mad . He wished he could just write this all off as Sunstorm being ridiculously naive, but he knew that wasn’t true. If the Autojets had continued their cruelty from when they had been their captors, Sunstorm would have had no problem with being passive aggressive towards them, insulting them in his own way. Didn’t make him not overly-nice in Ramjet’s view, but there was probably some merit to what he was saying. But Ramjet just couldn't bear to accept that. He opened the sibling bond a bit wider than the narrow trickle he had had it in, letting his own conflicted, confused, and hurt feelings flow over to Sunstorm. It was easier than trying to talk it out. His brother sent patient comfort back. “I am sorry I was so forceful.” 

Ramjet shook his head at the apology. “Yeah, cause obviously this is all your fault,” he sighed tiredly. Sunstorm didn’t look any happier, but things between them were peaceful once again, and they both went to their berths. 

In the middle of the night, Ramjet left quietly to take the graveyard shift, pausing briefly to look over his recharging brother with a frown. Sunstorm’s little chat was still strong in his processor as he made his way down the hall towards the cell. Thundercracker, looking groggy and annoyed, left with little more than a relieved huff before he stalked off tiredly to bed. Rolling his optics briefly, Ramjet then glared down at the recharging prisoners, who had made themselves comfortable on the retractable berth in the room, their wings occasionally flicking from still running subroutines. Even when they weren’t doing anything, the lying jet managed to muster up some rage at the Autobots. His optics locked on to their cuffs, and the thought occurred to him he could just hurt them. Right now. He had the code for the doors and their cuffs, he could make them completely helpless, do anything he wanted to them. But he didn’t move, his scowl only deepening. A hesitance in the back of his processor held him in place, a faint niggling voice that sounded vaguely like Sunstorm. With an annoyed hiss he turned sharply away. A few hours later, but still well before anyone else would be up, he left his post to get fuel for himself. And only himself. The Autobots had never offered him or Sunstorm fuel when they had been captured, even when they had been injured, the tiny jets would be fine going a day without. Fuel in hand, he turned his back and ignored the prisoners as best as he was able. 

Jetfire emerged from recharge, stretching and accidentally shoving his brother from their shared perch. The blue Autobot’s thrusters sputtered valiantly as he fell, but he still hit the floor with a light smack . 

“Oopsie,” remarked the orange twin apologetically as he peered over the edge at where his brother was hoisting himself up with an annoyed frown. 

“Great solar cycle to you too, brother,” gritted out the blue jet. 

A harsh snicker came from beyond their cell, and both Autobots looked out to see that Ramjet was standing guard once again. Seeing the white jet immediately threw them back into their contemplations the night before. Being reminded of their first encounter with the lying jet, and, well, most of the encounters afterwards, they could understand why he was so mad at them. The Jettwins wordlessly agreed that they would give it another try. At this point there wasn’t any reason not to. 

Attempting a relaxed grin, Jetfire called out, “Hey, Ramjet!” The Seeker startled at his name coming from the shorter jet seated in the cell, pivoting to look down at him in skeptical confusion. With the bigger Seeker’s attention, Jetfire flicked his wings in a friendly way and asked casually, “What do you do for the funs?” 

Ramjet stared, assuming this was either some kind of trick or these two really were that simple. After a beat he answered with a cruel smile, “Torture prisoners.” 

“No, really,” urged Jetstorm as he sat up. 

Thinking it over another second, Ramjet considered the two with narrowed optics and replied just as snarkily, “Capturing enemies, and running drills for a military faction that controls my whole life.” 

“I am sensing the burns,” observed Jetstorm with dry bemusement. 

“ No , really? ” sassed the liar. 

“I will just guess, then!” announced Jetfire with determination. Giving it a visual moment of thought, his chin held in his hands and his optics offlined, the twin then declared, “You like playing the cards!” 

“What, because I’m a liar?” retorted Ramjet deadpan with an unamused cross of his arms. 

“Yes, exactly! I knew I’d got it,” Jetfire’s posture perked proudly where he sat on the edge of the berth.

“Good guessing, brother!” praised the blue twin, holding his hand out for a high-five which his brother gladly supplied. 

RJ scoffed and turned away, resolutely fighting off any kind of grin.  

Meanwhile, Sunstorm had gotten up with a mission, and was seeking out his creator. With the most recent conversation with the two prisoners, he was, admittedly, getting a bit concerned. He trusted Starscream, but the Jettwins and his siblings alike were getting anxious over the vacuous nature of their capture. And he hadn’t missed that Starscream hadn’t gone to the cells himself, and in fact seemed to have been spending more time in his room since he had walked out of their impromptu family meeting. It wasn’t unusual for Starscream -- he had vanished for even longer on projects before -- but with how the conversation yesterday had gone…well. Sunstorm figured it wouldn’t hurt to check in on things. Not to mention he had never truly gotten the answer to his question. 

So he once again found himself barging into the older Seeker’s room, this time finding Starscream scrolling through something on a datapad. 

“Sunstorm, what are you doing in here? Again ,” he asked in annoyance. He suspected full well why the younger Seeker was here despite his pretty explicit orders to frag off, which only added to his annoyance. The clones were as stubborn and obnoxious as him, every one of them, and sometimes he swore Sunstorm was somehow the worst.  

The orange Seeker fidgeted with his hands once, before coming further into the room, his posture meek as he started, “Well, I’m certain you have a brilliant plan, it’s surely just that my dull processor cannot understand your clever strategy, but I’ve noticed you haven’t gone near the prisoners at all,” he did not cover up his concern at that observation, and Starscream sighed. 

The older Seeker waved dismissively, replying sternly, “Just waiting for the right time. It helps build intimidation if you leave them alone for a few days first. Really disorient them.” He glared at Sunstorm, daring him to refute.  

Sunstorm’s expression softened sympathetically, even as his optics brightened in concern, and Starscream cringed at his overly emotional clone. The younger Seeker urged sympathetically, apparently choosing to take Starscream’s dare, “Whatever it was those dedicatedly ruthless Autobots did, we can help you, if being near them is uncomfortable for you.”

Unhappy with his own cowardly reasoning for keeping his distance from the prisoners being thrown back in his face (by Sunstorm of all mechs), Starscream spat back, “That is not what’s happening,” he shot up from his seat, his voice raising to a defensive shriek as he countered, “I am not ‘uncomfortable’ from the pathetic Autobot science experiments!” His quivering wings spoke differently, as he did as he had been for the last couple of days and stamped down reflexive terrifying memory files. 

Desperate to know the truth, and understand the severity of it, Sunstorm blurted out worriedly, “They have your CNA, don't they? Is that what's so wrong?” 

Starscream startled, and his wings tensed. “How did you--?!” he started to shout, before cutting himself off with a strangled sound, unwilling to confirm Sunstorm’s completely unfounded assumption. His posture stiff with his fists at his sides, he took a half step nearer to the clone as he hissed, “Look, just get out.” 

This time Sunstorm was close enough to his creator to see how his wings trembled in fear. He couldn’t stop himself this time, before he had thought it through he threw his arms around his creator, hugging him tightly and his powers flaring in his concern to engulf his creator in a warming aura. He fully expected to be thrown off immediately, and was taken by surprise when Starscream actually allowed it. 

“I’m sorry for whatever those remarkably brutal Autobots did to you,” he consoled sincerely, not wasting a moment of his stubborn creator actually letting him, “If it is of any miniscule amount of consolation, it made two amazing Seekers. Naturally, with such a fantastic source to be based off of!” 

Despite himself, Starscream relaxed slightly at the contact, the threatening memories dissipating. The glimmer of pride he got from Sunstorm’s observation also helped. It made it a bit better to hear that those idiotic Autobot ‘scientists’ had accomplished something worthwhile from his suffering. Then he realized he had indulged Sunstorm’s clinginess for a good moment longer than he had ever intended, and quickly (but gently) shoved the younger Seeker away. “You and your human nonsense,” he scoffed, surprising even himself as he quickly relaxed. 

Sunstorm stepped back, but he was smiling, his flames sparking brightly in joy before sputtering out. “If you wanted to talk about it, I am more than willing to lend my inferior audials to the task,” he offered.  

Starscream gave his creation a flat look. It was enough that he had entertained the young Seeker’s attempts at sympathy, he wasn’t going to let himself slip any further into sap. But even so, hearing his sentimental creation’s take on the Autobot experiments had… helped . Knowing it had been worth it. He sat back in his chair with renewed composure, acting like the entire previous emotional conversation had hardly happened. Waving his hand towards the younger Seeker, Starscream put on an authoritative air, ordering, “Nevermind your audials, how about your vocaliser? If you’re here and claiming that those Auto-brats are so great, give me a report on the prisoners.” 

The orange jet’s grin grew wider, as he clasped his hands and eagerly gushed, “Oh, I’m glad to oblige! Jetfire and Jetstorm are stupendous mechs! They sound like fantastically skilled fliers, and they are very talented storytellers. And Jetfire has a wonderful optic for photography, they truly are both Seekers of extraordinary talents. They picked up preening perfectly on their first time -- they did a flawless job.”

“You taught the Autobots to--” Starscream started to question in shock, then rubbed at his helm in amused exasperation, “Of course you did.”  

“They’re Seekers. Should I not have?” wondered the complimenter, his head canted in confusion at Starscream’s less-than-pleased reaction, and then his optics grew wide as he stared at his creator in guilty shock, “I’m so sorry, did you want to do that? Of course you would, you’re far more experienced than any of the rest of us, you know more about being a Seeker, of course you should have. It was hubris of me to think that I could,” his babbling was bordering on panic, and Starscream gestured for him to calm down. 

“Relax, will ya? It’s fine, I don't care if you told them,” he hadn’t been expecting his own nonchalance at a couple of Autobots learning something so central to Seeker life, but at the same time it wasn’t exactly a secret in any way. And the two obviously had wings so he had to reluctantly admit it made sense that they would need to know. 

Sunstorm looked relieved, his smile easily returning. “Isn’t it simply wonderful that there are more Seekers?” he commented glibly, and Starscream sighed internally at how he had apparently opened the  chatterbox floodgates. “And they’re related , even more miraculous!” 

Starscream openly cringed at that assessment. Spark-modification by forcefully grafting his CNA wasn’t what he would call “related”. Seeing the flinch, Sunstorm gained the barest of frowns, his optics darting uneasily as he clasped his hands in front of him. Far less eager than before, he suggested haltingly, “I hesitate to question your greatness, but perhaps we could let them go? If they are Seekers, and if they cause you such discomfort.” 

The older Seeker frowned seriously, replying sternly, “They’re still Autobots , Sunstorm. No , we are not just going to ‘let them go’.” 

Toying with his hands, he questioned meekly, “Then what are we going to do with them?” 

“Something, I’ll figure it out,” he answered noncommittally, deciding he was done with this conversation now. 

While the vague response was less than fully reassuring, Sunstorm accepted it in far better spirits than the last time, nodding easily. He was too relieved about helping his creator to be as worried about the future for the Autobot twins. He was sure, at least, that his family didn’t mean them any harm. (Well, maybe Ramjet still did, but one worry at a time.) 

“Now get outta here,” dismissed the older Seeker, far less harshly than either of the other times as he waved casually towards his door. 

Without argument, Sunstorm gave a jovial bow and turned to leave, feeling far better about the situation than before. “If you ever need any of my assistance, beloved creator, I am only too happy to provide it,” he said in reminder, before stepping back out of the room. 

Starscream shook his head, and then stared at the back of the doors long after he parted. Sunstorm had given him a lot to think over. His optics darted over to the hidden datapad on his shelf, that had never fully left his processor despite his attempts. It seemed that Sunstorm, too, saw the two small Autobots as Seekers, and had no problem with fully accepting and running with that fact. Knowing Sunstorm, he was probably also jumping to all sorts of conclusions with the aspect of the Bots sharing his CNA as well. Starscream sighed, but there was a fond tinge to the sound as he reflected on Sunstorm’s little ‘analysis’. 

Starscream had said he was going to avoid the small jets, but, well, at the same time he reasoned that Sunstorm’s claims should probably still be investigated. After all, though the soft sparked jet was far from the most reliable source of information, he wasn’t that bad of a judge of character, so it was possible there was a grain of truth to his take. The experienced Seeker obviously had no clue on the two Autobot jets beyond what he had gathered on them in the medbay, and getting information verified would just be a logical thing to do. Nodding to himself about the logic of this plan, he peeked out of his door to make sure Sunstorm was gone (he really didn’t need any more of his creation’s hassling), then ducked out of the room and made his way towards the brig. Lingering in a perpendicular hallway where he could see the cell, but they couldn’t see him, he peeked around the corner to observe. He scanned the hall briefly, frowning when he realized he didn’t see anyone on guard. Wasn’t Slipstream supposed to be watching the prisoners right now? It looked like it was good that he came down here, then. Defiant little slacker. Making a mental note to scold her later (it was actually probably for the best no one was here, now that he was thinking about it. Less of a chance to have to explain what he was doing, not that he owed them an explanation), he switched his focus to the two mechs in the cell. 

The Autobots were seated on the floor of the small room, looking basically the same as the last time he had seen them, if with slightly brighter looking armor. An effect of their nanite activity being restored, he absently noted. Scarcely noticeable, unless you knew what you were looking for. His optics immediately tracked to their wings, the orange one’s currently in the hand of the other jet. Starscream shook his head in denial ,but, well, Sunstorm had said he had taught them. His optics weren’t mistaken, they looked a heck of a lot like Seekers. He followed the movements of the blue one’s digits thoughtfully, listening in to their conversation.

“Do you think we can learn more about flying while we’re here?” wondered the blue Autobot. 

“ How , in a cell?” countered the other. 

“Well, maybe Sunstorm could tell us,” 

Starscream rolled his optics at that one. Of course his suck up creation had gone and befriended Autobots. The two fell into discussing tricks and aerial maneuvers in excited, hopeful voices, and Starscream forced himself to turn away with gritted teeth, fighting back a wave of nostalgic melancholy at their nearly innocent enthusiasm for flight. They looked like Seekers. They acted like Seekers. They spoke like Seekers. His claws dug into the wall beside him when his worst fears were realized, and he was in fact feeling something other than hatred towards the Autobots. The smaller jets startled to stop at the grating piercing sound, their optics shooting towards the hall as Starscream disappeared down it.

Chapter Text

The day passed, and then the next of the Jettwins’ imprisonment. Their sporadic escape planning (which they continued, just in case, though none of it was as serious as it had been when they had thought they were in the captivity of ruthless Decepticons) was interrupted frequently by their constantly shifting guards. Though they hadn’t made much progress on getting out of their prison, it wasn’t nearly as awful as they had thought it would have been. They had even gotten to know the Seekers that held them fairly well. 

Well, mostly.

Ramjet still seemed to hate their internals, though recently he mostly ignored them rather than keeping up his threatening taunts. Slipstream also continued to be creepily quiet, pretty much always working on something else while she was technically on guard duty. The only bit of conversation they had managed to get out of her was her ragging on Starscream the whole time, which they found funny, but couldn’t contribute much to. Thundercracker bragged all the time (it really did remind them of Sentinel, and they felt a pang of homesickness at the thought), but would eagerly model for photos, which at least gave the twins something to do while they were locked up. Skywarp was alright, whenever they could get him talking and also understand him through all of his nervous stammering (seriously, they were the ones who were locked up, why was he scared of them ?), but he hadn’t had another major freak out since the first time. And they hadn’t seen Starscream since their wings had grown in and he had thrown them in here. Sunstorm was the most consistently entertaining of the guards, every time he was outside of their stasis field he had something to talk about. He would sometimes even say nice things about humans -- the only other mech they had ever met who cared so much about the organics was Jazz, and even then the orange Seeker was on a completely different level. It came from spending his whole life on Earth, he said. 

It also helped that they were altogether feeling better than they had in ages. Stronger. Not that they necessarily felt weak before, but there was a sort of deep seated energy within that seemed to make all the difference. They guessed it was because their nanites were actually able to do their jobs now. 

Which actually might have been kind of a double edged sword, because it was starting to make their imprisonment unbearably annoying. More often than not they would end up pacing their cell, their wings twitching erratically at everything , it seemed like, no matter what they tried to do. Preening them didn’t help, and sometimes made it feel like it got worse . They couldn’t know if this was totally normal, they were doing something wrong with the new limbs, or Starscream had completely screwed something up. 

They brought it up the next time Sunstorm rotated in, and a look of concern crossed the bigger Seeker’s face. 

“What? What is it?” asked Jetfire anxiously, finding the reaction less than encouraging. 

“Oh, it’s, well, I’m not certain,” he stammered hesitantly. He tried to assure the two, “I’m no expert, I’m sure I’m quite wrong. You’re perfectly fine, you’re doing a perfect job with preening, your wings look immaculate! Nothing at all to worry about.” 

They weren’t sure they believed him, but there wasn’t much they could do about it so just accepted his word. 

For his part, Sunstorm really wasn't sure what was happening, so he didn’t want to alarm the smaller Seekers, but he definitely had some ideas, and he couldn’t quite dispel his worried frown. He mentally tracked how long the other jets had been here, coming to an uncomfortable count that it had been a week that the two had been in the base. A week since their last flights. And with brand new wing sensors as well. The orange Seeker’s wings flexed uncomfortably as he thought. That was not a good combination, and his processor immediately leapt to the looming bogeyman of flightframe kind, flight sickness . He had been fortunate to have never suffered it himself, but he still knew of it. Any flightframe knew it, Seekers with their special abundance of sensors even in root mode most of all. It went by many different names, but the problem was the same. Don’t stay grounded for too long . A downed Seeker was as good as a dead Seeker. 

“Sunstorm,” said Jetstorm, breaking said mech from his fretting, “How long we are to be prisoners?” asked the small Seeker, his voice a strange mix between serious and  whining. They were getting sick of this cell, they didn’t know what was going to happen, they were starting to miss their commanders, and they had a few more cycles before the other Autobots would even think to start looking for them. Combined with the new twitchiness that had settled into their frames, they didn’t know how much longer they could stand being stuck here. 

When the gaurdmech only balked silently, Jetfire pressed, growing more urgent and frustrated with every question, “Why we are here? What Starscream is wanting from us? Can we not at least be getting out of cuffs?” he asked this last one with an annoyed huff as he shook his restrained hands in emphasis. 

“What Starscream was telling you?” asked Jetstorm, figuring that the Seeker had asked his leader at some point. 

Sunstorm sputtered wordlessly, not having an answer and not wanting to upset the other mechs. “Starscream is most competent, even if there isn’t a plan now I’m sure there will be one, it will all work out! We can all get along.”

The Autobots gave him flat, disbelieving looks. “I am not thinking so.” 

“He has not even shown up this whole time! We will be stuck here forevers if up to him.”  

Sunstorm wanted to disagree, but he knew his creator better than that. He was stubborn. They were all stubborn. Starscream was deadset on keeping the Autobots prisoners, and it would take a long time for Sunstorm to convince him otherwise, if he even could. Even if at this point Sunstorm was certain that they didn’t deserve to be prisoners. They certainly didn’t deserve the cruelty of flight sickness, at least. The only other way to prevent that would be to keep them in stasis, but that was a cruelty of its own.  

An idea started to form in Sunstorm’s processor, and he glanced down both sides of the hall, at the connecting hall behind him, then down at Jetfire and Jetstorm. Their wings were frantically fluttering -- an all too clear visual of early sky withdrawal -- and their hands spread out imploringly from their cuffs. He thought about how the presence of the Autobots was upsetting everyone; the Jettwins were upset from being captured, most of his family were upset from them being here, and Sunstorm was upset from everyone else being so unhappy. The only reason they had for the Autobots staying was because Starscream said so, but obeying Starscream was hurting more than helping at this point. And with his creator’s assertion about their shared CNA, he couldn’t help viewing them as family (or at least potential family), giving him even less reason to keep them imprisoned. The way Sunstorm was seeing it, letting the Autobots free would let everyone win. With a resolute feeling growing in his spark, Sunstorm sent the deactivation code to the cell before he could doublethink it. 

The Jettwins’ optics brightened in shock as the stasis field died in front of them, standing stock still to stare at the open hall. The cuffs detached and fell to the ground with a clink a second after, and they flexed their freed hands in amazement, before looking up at Sunstorm in bewilderment. 

The cheerful Seeker was remarkably stern as his optics bore into them, and after a heavy moment, he stepped aside, leaving the Autobots with a free path out of the cell.  

They stared at him for a second longer, then walked out of the cell room, their wings immediately stretching at the sensation of free-flowing air in the hallway. They stretched their arms out next with relieved sighs, then turned to face their liberator. 

 “There are several remarkably convenient exits along the walls if you just go down this wonderful hallway,” he informed them, gesturing down the hall behind them. 

“Won’t Starscream be mad?” asked Jetfire, echoing both of their thoughts. They surprised themselves by having that be their first reaction, but they liked Sunstorm and weren’t happy to think about him getting into trouble. They knew how Sentinel would react if they had just let a prisoner loose, and they could only assume Starscream would handle it even worse. 

Sunstorm winced slightly, but reassured them, “This will all be for the best, don’t worry. Starscream can actually be a most understanding mech.” 

They both gave him doubtful looks over that, but he had no more comment on it so they dropped it. Considering Sentinel, after a moment of thought, Jetstorm told him,“We won’t be telling anybot about this, we promise.” 

“The other Autobots will not be hearing nothing from us,” chimed in Jetfire. The Jettwins had come to respect the Seekers, at least enough that they didn’t think they were causing problems. Their Autobot training caused them to feel a bit of guilt about that , but they didn’t want to get Sunstorm and the others trapped in cells again . Not when he had just released them from theirs. 

“That’s so gracious of you! How very kind,” he replied brightly.

The Jettwins took a few eager steps in the direction of freedom, before pausing a moment to turn back to Sunstorm. “Thank you,” they chimed simultaneously, their smiles wide. 

He gave them a gentle smile in return, telling them sincerely, “Please be careful. You trust the Autobots, and I trust your knowledgeable opinion, but I would hate for either of you to get hurt again.”

“Is like he is not knowing us,” scoffed Jetstorm playfully. 

“We are the most careful of bots! Always careful!” insisted Jetfire with a toothy grin. 

Still smiling, though it had dimmed slightly, Sunstorm leaned down to meet their optic level, saying, “It has been the most exquisite pleasure getting to know such amazing Seekers as yourselves. Through the grace of the Allspark perhaps will we be able to meet again. I sincerely hope so, at least.” 

The Jettwins nodded, finding themselves surprisingly lost for words. They hadn’t thought their escape from the base would have been so emotional. Then, with shared waves goodbye, the Jettwins dashed down the hall towards freedom. 

They found the “exits” Sunstorm had spoken of in the form of holes in the side of the wall. With no hesitation, the two jets threw themselves out of the mountain, relishing in the freefall as the swooshing streams of wind against their wings was the best thing they thought they had ever felt. They lingered in the falling for another precious seconds with barely a thought towards the approaching ground below, before transforming in sync and flying back to the Steelhaven as fast as they could. As they flew, fuelled by the joy of being able to return home, they also had the thought of finding a way to revisit the Seekers they had escaped. But that could be considered later, for now they were just glad to be back where they belonged. 

“We are back, Sentinel Prime sir!” called out Jetfire eagerly as the two jets came to a landing inside the Autobot ship. 

“You two are here early,” noted Sentinel with a trace amount of suspicion as he looked over his two recently returned cadets, which only grew as the two remained as jets rather than transforming. He shared a confused glance with Jazz, who just shrugged with an easy, amused grin. 

“We are having the very exciting ‘leave’,” 

“Yes, lots of big news! We could not wait to showing you so we came back right away!” 

“Ok, are ready for the big reveal?” teased Jetfire as he lingered in vehicle mode, his brother sending him an agreeing excited and mischievous feeling as he sat in jet mode beside him. 

“What are you talking about?” replied Sentinel exasperatedly. “Just transform already.” 

“Okie to the dokie, Sentinel Prime sir!” said the orange jet, and, with a quick questioning pulse to his twin that was immediately replied to with agreement, the two transformed to bot mode synchronously, their wings flared proudly as they posed dramatically once their transformations ended. The two commanders stared in shock at the Jettwins.

“Tada!” cheered Jetstorm, giving little jazz hands. 

“Is this not so ‘cool’?” said Jetfire with a wide grin, his wings giving a happy flap as he and his brother showed them off. 

Sentinel was stonily silent as he looked between the jets and stared at their new appendages, gaze darting to the pointed tips of Jetstorm’s spread open hands, then back to his wings. With their added height, they were at optic level with Sentinel as they posed. The longer he stared, the more thunderous his expression grew, finally settling into a tight scowl. “Go to Perceptor and get rid of those things at once!” he snarled at them angrily, and the twins took a step back. Sentinel being upset and yelling at them was nothing new, really, but they hadn’t anticipated a reaction this strong. 

“You are not liking them?” asked Jetfire despondently, his once so proudly perked wings sinking downwards against his back. 

“Of course not! I’m not having any of my mechs looking like a couple of Decepticreeps! You have one solar cycle before you two will be sent back to Cybertron to go to the Science Division and fix this. For now, back to your quarters and stay there until it’s time to leave.” The Jettwins stared at the pronouncement, Jetfire’s wings kept pinned distressed against his back and Jetstorm’s flicking in confusion. Noticing the wing movement only seemed to make Sentinel madder, his scowl deepening as he flung out an arm to point aggressively in the direction of their room and shouting, “Now!” Their wings sunk low, they looked pleadingingly towards Jazz, but Sentinel's tone left no room for argument, so they slunk down the corridors of the ship towards their room.  

The other two Autobots stared after them, Jazz in shock and Sentinel with a still smoldering fury. Recovering, the Cyberninja shook his head, then looked back at the retreating twins’ distraught postures. “C’mon SP, weren’t you a bit harsh with them?” 

Sentinel jerked his head harshly towards his second, scowl not fading, “Slag, no. And who are you to counter a superior officer anyway?” 

Jazz merely stared at him steadily. The whole “superior officer” thing had lost its effect on him a long time ago, considering the Prime pulled it pretty much every time he was upset. 

“There’s no way the High Council would let this slide and you know it,” insisted Sentinel, crossing his arms authoritatively. The commander then let out a heavy whooshing ex-vent, his posture losing its tension ever so slightly, “I’m doing them a favor by forcing them to fix it. They’re already reckless, Jazz, do you really want to test how mechs react to them having wings ?” Sentinel raised a challenging optic ridge as he argued, and Jazz’s posture slumped as he kind of had to concede that point. Autobot standards ran deep, you didn’t fight a whole war and not have it leave its scars. Jazz himself wasn’t immune to the fear of things that fly, he was almost scared to imagine how a less patient bot would take things. 

“Look, SP. I’m gonna at least talk to ‘em.” 

Sentinel huffed, but waved over his shoulder in permission. 

The ninja hustled down the hall to catch up to the two younger mechs, and reached them easily from their slow dragging trek towards their room. “Hey, mechs, slow your roll, there, wanna talk to ya.” 

The two jets slowed to a stop, turning towards him in slow disappointment that swiftly turned to a hopeful gleam. “Yes sir, Jazz sir?” asked Jetstorm, his wings perking. 

Before the white mech could get another word in, Jetfire asked him eagerly, “Are you to be telling Sentinel Prime sir that we can be keeping onto our wings?!” 

Jazz startled at the force of the question, “Uh, well, I talked to him, and I can definitely talk to him again, I just wanted to chat wit’ you two first.” 

The twins cocked their heads in confusion simultaneously, “Talking on what?” asked Jetstorm. 

Jazz let out an ex-vent, mentally prepping for this conversation, “Y’know how SP is. He’s bein’ harsh but it’s just cause he’s worried about ya.” 

The jets looked no less confused, “Worried, Jazz sir?” 

“We are not understanding, sorry, sir, Jazz sir,” 

“Worried ‘bout those,” he said, gesturing loosely at the Jettwins wings, which seemed to twitch at the attention as if knowing they were being talked about. “Look, I’mma be level with ya. Most Autobots…they just freak out at winged folk. Hate to say it, but ya’ll testin things just being able to fly, let alone… well,” he nodded towards the Jettwins, whose expressions were dropping with every word, “All o’ that. SP coulda said it better, but he’s got a point. Don’ wanna test your safety, y’know?” 

The two rookie Autobots’ optics widened, looking more and more crestfallen, their new wings tight against their backs as their tips pointed towards the floor. Jazz’s spark twinged guiltily at their hurt expressions, but a second look at the wings firmed his resolve. The naive twins didn’t know how fragile their existence, their acceptance, was. This whole deal was only held together by the thinnest threads of the Council and Scientists assuring everyone that the Jettwins were safe. But a lot of Bots still didn’t fully trust it. Jazz himself had been doubtful of the Jettwins for the longest time -- they had definitely seemed like wild decepticons while he had started training them. He had questioned enough times whether they’d ever be decent Autobots. Getting to know the two had changed his thinking of course, but he knew darn well that most other Bots didn’t have that luxury, and probably saw the twins the same way he had at the start. And with the wings, and the claws ( Sparks , how and why had they gotten those nasty looking things?), well. Shrugging easily, gently as he could he said,  “I get you like the way they look, but maybe this boat ain’t worth rockin.”

Something he said must have been very wrong, because the twins’ expressions switched instantly from forlorn to furious. “You are not getting it!” shouted back Jetfire, a claw pointed at Jazz and his wings raising from their slouch, making Jazz suddenly very aware of their increased height difference. It was only millenia of training that helped him control his flinch (not that the Jettwins seemed to notice), “None of you are getting nothing !” the flying Autobot continued to rant, “ Perceptor didn’t get it, and Sentinel Prime sir didn’t get it, and now you don’t get it either!” 

“Perceptor? Wha’s he got to--” 

“We are not going back!” shrieked Jetstorm before the two transformed and jetted off down the narrow hall, faster than Jazz’s altmode could have kept up. 

“Well, scrap,” muttered Jazz under his vents, as he stared down the empty hall that had once contained the Jettwins in bewilderment. 

The Jettwins booked it down the hall, their flight path kept tight with Jetfire staying neatly ahead of his twin as they got as far away from their commanding officer as they could. With their twin bond they had no risk of running into each other, but the constricting hall was tricky to manage without grazing a wall, and left no room for combining. The ship’s interior had not been designed with flightframes in mind. Panic shot through their shared sparks as they transformed and threw themselves into a darkened storeroom, slamming the door shut behind them. Their circuits all screamed at the idea of losing their wings to the Autobot scientists again, said limbs quivering at the thought. 

~Even Jazz sir?!~ moaned Jetfire in betrayed despair, his head cradled in his hands as he covered his optics. Jazz was the coolest mech they knew, and that was partially because he was able to go against Sentinel Prime on things. If he also wanted them to get rid of their wings, who could they trust?

~We can’t stay, we can’t~ declared Jetstorm, a current of resolve cutting through the panic as he paced the small space, his wings tense in agitation. ~They aren’t taking our wings away again!~ he said shrilly, panic taking over him again at the thought. 

~ What , we’re gonna leave the Autobots?!~ asked the other Jettwin in alarm. 

~No!~ denied Jetstorm immediately. Just because other Autobots didn’t get it didn’t mean they were going to betray everyone they cared about. ~Just the Steelhaven.~ he decided, a sort-of plan forming, ~Not even forever, just…maybe they’ll forget eventually and then everything will be fine!~ forced out Jetstorm optimistically despite his nerves. 

~Ok, but where do we go?~ questioned his twin doubtfully. 

They both knew the answer as soon as the question was asked, the twins sharing a hesitant look. 

Starscream had taken Sunstorm with him as the two jets flew in search of the “escaped” prisoners. The lead Seeker figured it was the least his creation deserved for letting the two Autobots go in the first place, a fact that sent his thrusters burning in irritation and betrayal. He always knew the weird clone was too soft sparked. The others questioned why they were even bothering to track the two down, since they hadn’t done anything with them while they were prisoners in the first place. Starscream harshly made up an excuse about the two twerps exposing their location (despite Sunstorm’s insistence that the two had promised that they wouldn’t), and urged them more intently to find the two Autobots. It was a true enough reason, and successfully distracted from any other reason he might have had, one that he wasn’t even willing to admit to himself . As they flew out from their base, they soon saw two distant figures in the air, an orange and a blue jet that circled in the sky, their flights occasionally dipping as though they were searching for something. Probably looking for the Seekers to rat them out to their precious Autobot commanders. 

Starscream took a shot at the aimlessly flying jets before Sunstorm could do anything, intentionally missing so that the shot grazed by them, even as he questioned to himself why he didn’t just shoot the two annoyances down and be done with it. “What are you two doing in our airspace again?!” he called out to the autobots.

The jets turned their flights around towards the decepticons, but didn’t engage, instead descending to land as the orange one replied, “We are in need of place to stay.” 

“Yes, can we please be lying the low with you ?” asked the blue one. The Autobots transformed to land, and while Starscream hesitated, Sunstorm immediately did the same until, with annoyed rev of his engine, the older Seeker followed. 

Starscream was scowling down at the two smaller Seekers the moment he transformed and touched ground, waving his arm irritatedly over them as he ranted, “Seriously? When I want you as captives you escape first chance you get, and now you’re asking to be roommates ?” 

“Of course you can stay with us,” offered Sunstorm happily, his posture lowered to better meet the smaller jets’ optics as his wings perked cheerfully behind him. 

Starscream shot him a venomous glare, “No they can not. You’re in no place to offer to let our enemies stay over as house guests!” he reprimanded, jabbing a finger aggressively at his creation. 

“But they’re Seekers,” replied the orange Seeker as his wings sank supplicatingly behind him. As his creator continued to give him a fuming stare, he asked with an exaggerated innocence, “I’m sorry, was I mistaken, I thought that meant something?” 

“They’re Autobots ,” hissed Starscream through gritted teeth, refusing to let that fact go, even as part of his processor was inclined to agree the more he looked at the small Seekers and their hopefully fluttering wings.  

“But, I apologize again if my confused processor once again misunderstands, they share your remarkable coding, don’t they? And, it would seem to me, though I may be wrong, that that means they share coding with all of us. Wouldn’t that make them family?” he asked meekly, his hands clasped innocently. 

“You and your fragging human concept of ‘family’!” complained Starscream harshly, throwing his hands up frustratedly. He then pointed harshly at Jetfire and Jetstorm, “Just because the little Autodorks have my coding doesn’t mean they’re with us!” 

“But Starscream sir, we cannot be going back to the Autobots,” pleaded Jetfire, him and his brother looking up at the cross-armed Seeker with wide optics, their wings dipping down against their backs. They didn’t know what the whole “family” business meant, but they could at least hopefully deal with the “enemy” issue. Starscream started and stared at the two in surprise at the claim. 

Jetstorm nodded, continuing desperately, and clasping his clawed hands in front of himself beseechingly, “They are wanting to be taking away our wings!” 

The comment made the observing Seekers -- even Starscream, sparkless jerk that he was -- cringe. It was bad enough preventing Seekers from having wings (uh, oh, he was already considering the two as Seekers, his resistance was already crumbling). Getting rid of them after they already had them? Stripping barely protoformed Seekers of their wings? His optics flicked down to the two small begging jets consideringly, and he tapped a finger against his crossed arms tensely. It would break them. It would break them slowly, and no doubt the clueless frameist Autobots wouldn’t even realize what they had condemned the two to. All while Starscream thought this over, Sunstorm levied him with a wide-opticked, desperate look. Cradling his head in hand, Starscream let out a long, resigned sigh. He seemed to have no luck when it came to cyber-puppy optics from young Seekers. He blamed his frame type’s coding. “ Fine ,” he hissed out. “But only because I hate those Autobot Science fraggers that did this with my code more than I hate annoying and clueless little Autobot rookies. Sunstorm, you can stop staring at me like that, now.” 

“Yay!” cheered the Jettwins, and, obnoxiously, the traitorous Sunstorm.

Starscream sighed, but inwardly was already working on how he could turn this to his advantage. If he was viewing them as Seekers, maybe he could use this as a chance to turn them away from the Autobots. After all, at this point the two brats were more decepticon in build than autobot. And with those idiots trying to remove a Seeker’s wings, well, it probably wouldn’t take much to turn them away from their faction. He turned all this over in his processor as the Seekers transformed and flew back to base -- including the two newest ones.