Title: Reasons to Go On

Author: zea_taylor

'verse: 2007 Movieverse

Rating: T

Characters: Prowl, Sideswipe, Optimus Prime, William Lennox, ensemble

Warnings: Angst, Prowl/Jazz, post-2007 movie, mild language

Summary: Grieving his lost bondmate, Prowl is faced with harder choices than most – these do not become easier when Sideswipe and Sunstreaker encounter a difficult situation of their own.

Author's Note: This is a story that refused to die, no matter how long I neglected it for. I think somehow I created two different plots colliding head on, but hope I've ended up with something coherent. I've also figured out I can't write decent endings, and was never sure at what point to call this done. It's certainly been a long time (about 4 years!) from first words to posting, and I'm planning to write other stories and snippets in this 'verse continuing the story afterwards. It's actually set post-RotF (since that's when I started writing it). I dithered over making it DotM-compatible, and decided not to. I'm planning to update fairly frequently – maybe once a week. Comments and constructive criticisms are always welcome.

Prologue

He ran into the system's heliopause like an alt mode into solid steel. To any other Cybertronian, the ripple of flux from so small a yellow sun would scarcely register. The whisper of it against the crust of their cometary shells was the slightest of sensations – a relief, if it was noticed at all.

It struck him like a million needle-sharp vibroknives.

His systems fired before he gave them conscious thought, checking his motion, bringing him to rest relative to the distant primary.

He ached from plating to struts. His spark strained, faltering in his frame. He felt the fluctuations within it and then, terrifyingly, the flutters against it. He needed Ratchet's help, and the security of standing by his Prime's side. He knew that. He'd travelled halfway across the galaxy to see it happen.

But he couldn't do this.

This was the system where Jazz had died, where the AllSpark had burned into nothing. Even being here, knowing the blue-green planet lay ahead, was painful and more difficult than he'd expected. He felt ill, hurting anew, grieved to the depth of his spark.

Even in his distress, his training held. He decoded Prime's briefing beacon in microseconds, and intercepted its broadcast before it could betray his presence. He needed time to think, to decide on his path before the decision was taken from him.

Maybe it was his exhaustion, or the shock of the moment, that made him careless. Maybe it was just that the twins had got sneakier since he last encountered them. If he'd known they were here, he might have been more wary. Sideswipe had learnt to be sneaky from the master; Jazz's partner in crime in a dozen escapades. It wasn't unusual for the front-liner to set a beacon of his own, to get the scoop on new arrivals and take advantage of the foreknowledge.

Stumbling across it was an act of carelessness that told all too clearly how badly this particular newcomer was off form.

The query that came from the twins was startled, wary, and tightly shielded.

He answered it with a sharp order, as narrowly focused and encrypted as the signal had been: Say nothing. Wait.

He needed to know he could do this. He needed to be certain that it was the right decision.

His spark throbbed again, straining. Would time to think help? He couldn't be sure.

Just now though, it was all he had.

They travelled to the lookout in silence.

Even when they reached the shoreline and the wind-blown bluffs, there was little to say. Sideswipe didn't take the time to change out of his alt mode, hurrying to transmit the tightly-coded and focused databurst they'd prepared. His twin brother waited by his side, a low, impatient throb of his engine breaking the stillness between them.

Neither wanted to be here. Even if the vibrant yellow and red shells of the two Stingray Corvettes hadn't been so painfully out of place against the wild disorder of this corner of an organic world, their actions would have been. It felt wrong to be sneaking around behind the backs of their fellow Autobots and human allies. Doing what they were doing without telling Optimus Prime went beyond simply wrong.

"He's not going to answer."

Sideswipe shrugged, the motion translated into a slight bounce of his alt-mode's suspension. He couldn't honestly argue with his brother's statement, and he could say nothing to alleviate the concern that was so obvious to him even if hidden from anyone else. He tried nonetheless, forcing more cheer and confidence into his voice than he felt.

"He will. Sooner or later. He can't keep this up forever."

Sunstreaker couldn't stifle the frustrated whirring of his vents. The sound was whipped away by the gusting sea breeze, but neither he nor his twin brother needed mere sound vibrations to communicate, or to feel one another's uncertainty. "Nor can we."

Sideswipe echoed his brother's sigh. Usually they'd treat something like this as a challenge, entertaining themselves with speculation on what would finally get a rise out of their target and what might come of it. Not now. Not about this.

"It's been a week," he admitted. "Maybe… Sunny, maybe we should go to Prime."

He half-expected Sunstreaker to jump on the idea. It was the right thing to do, they both knew that. But on another level, they were almost certain it was their worst possible course through this quagmire of loyalty, fragile trust and spark-deep pain.

The yellow Corvette backed away from the cliff-edge, his wheels slipping a little on the rain-slicked grass. A rock scraped Sunstreaker's road-hugging undercarriage with a metallic shriek that made both mechs wince. Sideswipe braced for an explosion of irritation. Instead, his brother merely muttered a curse and gunned his engine.

"We'll give him an orn," he grunted. "Then he's Optimus's problem. I'm going into town."

Sideswipe didn't remind him to be careful or ask him to hurry home, knowing better than to test his twin's uneven temper after these last seven days. The sentiments were there between them nonetheless, their bond ringing with an eloquent silence. It lingered, as Sideswipe himself lingered, waiting on the lookout for five long breems before resigning himself to the fact that no reply would come. Only then did the red Corvette Stingray slip into reverse, manoeuvring carefully back from the edge and watching for stones amongst the long grass. He hesitated when he reached the road, his headlights casting a soft glow against the gathering twilight. His front grill turned briefly southwards, his optics refocusing on the downtown high-rises barely visible on the horizon.

Sunny was out there somewhere, thinking hard, and perhaps even gathering material for another secret artwork, the meaning of which hovered just beyond Sides' grasp. As glad as Sideswipe was to see Sunstreaker reaching out for those old skills, he wished he could understand why he had. His brother had been unhappy since they first heard Prime calling them to Earth. This latest dilemma, bad as it was, had merely been what the native organics would call 'the icing on the cake'. Wherever Sunny was going with his art, whatever he was striving to make sense of, Sides was at a loss to help.

Sideswipe paused, engine revving. Whether or not creative inspiration had struck this evening, his twin wouldn't appreciate Sideswipe interrupting his nightly brooding session. With a sigh the red-clad warrior put his game face on and turned his headlights northwards instead, chasing their bright beams back towards NEST's forward base. It was time for Sideswipe to reach for his own creative outlet. Time to bring a ray of sunshine into the long evening ahead of his friends and colleagues.

Sideswipe's brief attempt at artificial good humour faded. His eyes strayed upwards, picking out the first stars against the gathering darkness.

There were two dozen mechs on the base, most of them long-missed comrades. Still more of his friends were still out there… somewhere. Deep inside, Sideswipe knew he wouldn't rest easy until the Autobots he loved and respected most were here, safe and reunited with their Prime... all of them.