Secret's Out.

I'm not even sorry for this. Hurray my messed up Mind Cannon :D

A huge thank you to my beta DarkestRising10, as always you rock my socks! :D

()()()

They had been careful. So, so careful.

When the rest of the gestalt had found out about the relationships, it had sent Onslaught into a near blinding rage, furious that they had been discovered, furious that he had been outsmarted by those he thought little of.

It had been Sideswipe, as it always was, who calmed his lover down. Not through soothing words and soft touches, but had tackled the larger commander to the ground, starting a vicious melee. The attack so brutal that even Blast Off thought to interfere.

Sunstreaker had merely sighed, blue optics rolling as he tossed an arm around Vortex's shoulders and dragged the interrogator to sit and wait out the violence. The frontliner had also gently placed a servo to Blast Off's elbow, firmly ordering the other to wait it out too.

Blast Off had snarled, yanking his elbow from the Autobot's grasp, arm moving as though to strike the enemy. The only thing that stopped him had been Vortex, surprisingly fast for the heli-former, snarling and snapping, getting between his lover and his gestalt mate. Blast Off had backed off, recognizing the interrogator's rare and violent protective streak for what it was. He had claimed the Autobot and now nothing would change that.

Brawl had taken a tentative seat next to the golden mech who belonged to Vortex, with Swindle by his side as they waited the scrap out. The clawing, the punching and attacking changed suddenly, and touches just as rough, just as hard, started pawing at one another as the larger frame pinned the crimson plates beneath him.

Sunstreaker had snorted as he felt Vortex's frame heating up next to him, blood red optics pinned on the sight of his gestalt leader about to take the lean Autobot. The golden one had licked his own lips, having to remind himself that there were others still here, and this was not the time to be sharing.

"Later." Sunstreaker had promised, his own hardware heating between his thighs.

It had been only the solid boot through the twin bond that had drawn the other pair apart long enough to remember where they were, who they were with.

The conversation that had followed, was awkward. Difficult. How did one explain to their gestalt mates that the physical relationship that had been started with the frontliner twins, against every military law ever conceived, had turned into something…more?

Brawl had blinked at his gestalt leader, not quite believing what was happening, the sentiment shared by Swindle and Blast Off. This sort of thing they expected from Vortex, but from Onslaught as well was unheard of; and especially with the older but more immature of the twins.

Yet they accepted the decisions of their gestalt mates, for the most part; the fear of angering either Onslaught or Vortex too great not to accept it. Quietly though they judged the two Autobot's who had dared enter their stronghold, whilst waiting for the betrayal that would surely come. However time passed, and the sight of crimson and gold became more common around the base, something that was the norm.

Sideswipe helped Brawl exact revenge on Swindle for teasing him about his intelligence. Sunstreaker had 'accidently' nudged Bluestreak seconds before a kill shot that would have ended Blast Off's life, knowing it would have caused the gestalt as a whole, pain to lose one of their own.

Swindle had once talked Megatron into releasing Sunstreaker into Combaticon custody until a prisoner exchange could be arranged, taking him from Motormaster's servos, and it had been Brawl who had 'accidently' shot Dirge out of the sky when Sideswipe had been badly hurt and pinned alone behind enemy lines.

They looked out for one another now, the twins and the gestalt, as best they could from opposing sides.

It became easy to forget about the war, for just a little while. It was easy to let your guard down, especially when laughter and pleasure ruled most of your senses when away from war.

It made slipping up easier.

But even Onslaught could not work out how Megatron had figured it out.

"Onslaught!" Megatron roared, calling forth his gestalt leader as the battle began, Autobot's and Decepticon's charging towards each other, raring for a fight.

The Combaticon commander stepped next to his master, spotting Sideswipe next to his own faction's Second in Command on the other side of the battle field. No doubt the little glitch was grinning, itching for a fight, and would undoubtedly come charging at him the first chance he got, not allowing him to form Bruticus with the others.

Bowing briefly, Onslaught stood tall next to his master, back straight and helm high, pride washing off him that he had been called and not Motormaster. The other Combaticon's gathered behind their leader, waiting for the command to combine.

"Lord Megatron?" Onslaught had questioned, helm canting when orders were not barked at him.

The grey helm turned towards him, an ugly smile cutting across the war lord's face, sending a chill down Onslaught's spinal struts. "I know." Was all he said.

For a moment, confusion rushed through the Combaticon, not understanding what had just been uttered. Then the fear crept in, the realization that Megatron knew. It made his tanks curl and tighten in panic. His only hope was to play dumb, see how much Megaton actually knew. "Know what…sir?"

The ugly grin only got wider. "I could kill your precious little Autobot right now." The other mocked. "It would drag his twin down with him. How do you think Vortex would react? It would be amusing to see him slip deeper into his insanity." The commander froze, fear suddenly bolting him to the floor, keeping him from moving. Guilt, that this was all his fault, what was about to come, washed through him.

The ruby optics slipped from Onslaught to Vortex's taut frame, optics wide behind the crystal glass of his visor, rotors still and rigid at his back as he watched Megatron.

Their master only grinned, and all the time the Autobots were getting closer, and it was then Onslaught realised he wanted an audience. "But this." Megatron mused. "Will be so much more gratifying. I'll at least get to watch your Autobots break."

The barrel of Megatron's cannon was suddenly nestled against Onslaught's chest, right at his spark. The Combaticon felt the gestalt bond flair with panic, heard his comm activate as Sideswipe yelled for him. No instructions, just his name screamed in a panic that Onslaught had never heard from the frontliner, his name spoken in fear for him and not of him.

Onslaught had no time to consider any of that as Megatron fired, laser fire ripping and shredding his armour as pain burned through his frame, the blast taking him clean off his pedes. With force he landed on his back, the air rushing his vents and he could taste energon in his mouth while agony rushed like fire across his sensor net.

The bond lit back up with panic, and for the first time in his life, Onslaught ordered the others to run. Run!Run!Run!

Everything stopped as Onslaught slid across the ground, leaving a trail of bright pink and parts in his wake. Autobots and Decepticons just suddenly stopped dead in their tracks, the flyers even landing to watch on in a shocked awe.

The Combaticon had managed to survive the initial attack, but this was not unexpected. Megatron would have welcomed the true challenge had Onslaught not been bound by the laws of the loyalty programming, as he was one of the few whose armour was thick enough to withstand a direct attack from him.

That being said, the commander was not without injury. His chest plates had been completely torn off, blown away. His spark casing cracked, frame dented and broken before him. The silver spark and its black flecks flaring wildly in a panic in his crystal chamber.

Energon bubbled from broken lips that could be seen through a shattered mask as Onslaught tried to drag himself away from his leader. Megatron grinned as he stalked toward his downed commander, all optics on them, Autobot and Decepticon alike.

Ruby optics flickered up to the shocked face of Sideswipe, blue optics pale in distress, jaw dropped open in a moment of surprise and horror.

Good, Megatron had thought to himself. Let the fragger watch on in horror. Let him know this was his doing, that he was the one who had destroyed the gestalt.

A grey pede slammed into Onslaught's abdomen, pulling a guttural cry from the commander, Megatron's optics never leaving Sideswipe's as he continued to grin. The Autobot actually flinched when Megatron ground his heavy pede into Onslaught, further cracking the already damaged armour.

Plating heaved and buckled under his weight, giving out and pressing inwards, slicing into Onslaught's vital internals.

Arms weak as they grabbed at the grinding pede, Onslaught tried desperately to push the heavy limb from his broken frame. He struggled weakly as Megatron smiled at the Autobot, raising his cannon back up, leveling it with Onslaught's spark.

Sideswipe suddenly went numb as he watched Megatron's cannon hum with power, watched while his Decepticon's struggles grew more sluggish as pink energon pooled around him, his gestalt frozen behind him; Brawl's servos were shaking and Blast Off's optics were pale with distress.

Vortex was unusually still, optics bright with anger and hatred.

The commander stopped his pointless struggling, knowing what was about to happen to him, that the heat would take his spark, ending his wretched existence. No more being bound to a gestalt filled with the unwanted and broken. No more forced loyalty and fighting the programing that had jailed him more so than the box ever did. No more Autobot.

The last thought caused Onslaught's spark to constrict, his tank knotting in his belly. The only one who had given him even a measure of happiness, had been the Autobot. The only mech who had made his miserable life bearable, had been Sideswipe. No one had ever made him laugh like the front liner had, and he was the only one who had stolen his spark when he had kept it guarded for eons.

At least here, he would get to see the crimson mech before he went.

He twisted his helm once more, watching said mech; Sideswipe was screaming, his blue optics bright with panic as Prowl held him back, the SIC's wings flaring in a bid to stay up right. No one else was moving, all either watched Sideswipe struggling with Prowl or watched the scene playing out with Megaton.

Sideswipe screamed again as he tripped, falling to his knees, calling out his name, reaching for him. Prowl gritted his denta, held him back, trying to sooth his mech, figuring it out faster than anyone else, perhaps the only other one who knew what was happening here.

Bitter tears prickled at Sideswipe's optics as he gritted his denta helplessly.

The pathetic show of emotion clawed at Onslaught's spark, he always hated seeing Sideswipe upset. It set the world upside down, on fire, and he hated it.

Onslaught vented deeply as the heat from the cannon poured over his exposed spark, but he ignored it, and told his gestalt again to run as fast and as far as they could, his dim yellow optics still on the screaming frontliner. Letting go of Megatron's pede, Onslaught reached out to the frontliner, bloody servo shaking in the air.

There was so much he wanted to say to Sideswipe, and so much would be left unsaid. He wanted the frontliner to know how much he meant to him, that it was more than just a stupid fling. He hoped he knew already.

Onslaught's vents hitched in pain, his EM flickering in distress. He didn't want to die, not now, not when he had gotten his first taste of what life after the war could be like. What life with Sideswipe could have been like.

Megatron smirked as Sideswipe screamed and thrashed in his commander's hold. His smirk grew as Onslaught reached out for him. Pathetic. Who would have thought that the frontliner could have destroyed his gestalt so thoroughly.

His optics darkened as his smirk cut across his face. He would blow Onslaught's head clean from his shoulders, and the sounds the Autobot would make would be oh so lovely.

When Vortex attacked, it was a surprise to all, even Onslaught; the gestalt bond overriding even the loyalty patch. But it was not enough. The shot went wide, launching high into the sky as Sideswipe screamed again, and the interrogator leapt onto Megatron's back, claws digging into his waist.

The Decepticon leader roared, rage washing over him as those claws dug in deep, years of abuse fueling the interrogator's own rage. Twisting awkwardly, Megatron grasped the helicopter's leg and tore the smaller mech from his back.

Bellowing in rage, the larger Decepticon slammed Vortex into the ground, his helm cracking as it bounced off the hard, rocky earth. Snarling, Megatron with a servo clamped so hard around Vortex's that leg it dented the metal, hauled the smaller mech up once more and slammed him into the ground like a rag doll.

The red visor shattered on impact and his helm dented. Static burst from his vocaliser as pain shot like fire across his sensor net, landing on his back with an oof! Megatron dropped and buried a knee into his belly, causing the interrogator to cry out in pain, bringing a grin to his master's face.

"Noble of you Vortex, to jump in and protect your commander like that. But you should have spent your time running like Swindle."

Vents hitched and Onslaught fought his way to his elbows just in time to see the shot from the cannon, the blast straight and true as it hit Swindle square in the back. The jeep cried out as the blast tore him off his pedes, landing face first in the dirt with a thud.

Blast Off froze as he watched his gestalt mate hit the ground, and Brawl made a soft, weak noise beside him. They were going to die, all of them, and they knew it. Megatron wouldn't let them go now.

The larger Decepticon smirked as he drew nearer to Vortex, catching his rolling helm, holding it in place. Static burst from Vortex's mouth, no doubt in his attempt to tell his master to frag off. Megatron only smirked, his large servo pawing at plating, touching the prone interrogator in places no one but his lover should have.

Onslaught snarled, and Vortex gasped as he bucked away from the invading touch. "You've had your fun, but in the end you'll always belong to me. Your life is mine, all of yours." He glanced up at Onslaught, his smirk growing. "And look, your little Autobots are nowhere to be found."

Red optics flickered and dimmed, static again came from Vortex's mouth, sparks shooting from his damaged shoulder.

The audience around them gasped and watched in horror as Megatron continued to paw and touch, his words just as biting. "They never cared. That's why they aren't here now. That's why they aren't rising to the occasion to save you."

Crimson optics swept from Vortex to glance at Onslaught. "Not even your precious red twin. Even he's run away, and not to your defence."

Onslaught coughed, energon coming to his lips as he glanced to where his Lambo had been struggling so hard with his commander. Only now, the Autobot commander stood alone, wings swept back and high; Sideswipe nowhere to be seen

Agony clawed at the Decepticon's spark, wondering why the Autobot had not stayed with him until the end. Arms finally giving out, Onslaught let himself sink back to the earth, guessing it really didn't matter anymore.

It hurt that Sideswipe had left him to die alone, surrounded by enemies on both sides, belonging to neither. The Autobots had fought against them, and the Decepticons had tolerated them at best. It had been the twins who had cared about them, the first to do so in a very long time.

Sideswipe had somehow thawed his spark and Sunstreaker had gotten around Vortex's madness. They had awoken something within them that had been dormant for a very long time, something that Onslaught had long thought dead.

But none of that mattered now.

Sideswipe was gone, Sunstreaker was nowhere to be seen, and they were going to die alone on the battle field, abandoned. He couldn't even find the strength to be anything but…hurt. He had actually loved the Autobot.

Vortex made an odd, strangled noise, almost a squeak as Megatron wrapped his servos tightly around his throat and lifted him from the ground suddenly, only to slam him back into the rock, the crack at the back of Vortex's helm widening, sparking.

The crimson light from the visor, already cracked and broken, flickered and waned as Vortex struggled to stay online. Static burst from his mouth yet again, frame growing taunt as Megatron began to squeeze his throat, crushing the vocaliser and the main ventilation pipe.

Secondary vents in Vortex's sides all opened in a frantic attempt to draw more oxygen into his over working engine. The interrogator tried to struggle, but Vortex seemed to be having difficulties getting his limbs to do as he wanted, and they twitched uselessly as his sides.

Megatron's grin got a little wider, a little nastier as he crushed Vortex's throat, his words cruel. "You didn't actually think that Sunstreaker loved you, did you? How could he, someone so perfect, love someone so damaged?"

Vortex's optics flared briefly, his engine whined as Megatron laughed. "Of course you did. He never cared Vortex, you were nothing but a toy to him. One he doesn't even find fit to protect."

Pain, cutting deeper than any pain that Megatron could ever inflict, flared through Vortex, and those very words, that very idea, had the Decepticon terrified, and they would destroy him if it were true.

Onslaught gurgled, pink coming to his lips as he tried to call Megatron off, the gestalt bond echoing with pain, fear. The crushing weight of rejection.

Megatron laughed, knowing his barbs had hit their marks when the Combaticons were already down, hurting and weakened.

Surprise was hot and sharp as it shot through the gestalt bond like a hot knife under his plating when the sound of V-12 engines suddenly roared through the suffocating silence. They were oddly loud in the silence of the battle field.

Blast Off flinched as his comms were activated, the bond reverberating with surprise, and a flicker of hope that was oddly warm. Onslaught fought against the darkness that began to grow, blackness flickering at the edges of his vision.

Something changed in Blast Off's EM, something solid and real. Determination rippled through his side of the bond and the purple optics behind the visor narrowed on Megatron. Dropping to his knees, Blast Off crouched low, and Onslaught could see the crimson flash tearing his way through the Decepticon ranks; all too shocked to do anything more than watch, their massive frames frozen in place as Sideswipe zipped by.

With a snarl of his engine and a grunt of effort, Sideswipe smoothly transformed, taking great running steps as he charged, his cobalt optics dark with rage and hate.

The Autobot bolted right for Blast Off, his entire frame working with the effort, arms pumping in time with his legs. He ran directly for the shuttle, his pede fitting near perfect at the junction between his shoulder and neck; Blast Off stood quickly, aiding Sideswipe's launch as he used the shuttle as a spring board.

Megatron turned in time to see the Autobot's lean frame flying towards him, having only the time to raise his cannon towards the crimson mech. Onslaught felt his spark stop as his lover tackled Megatron, dragging him off the interrogator.

Sideswipe kept his momentum going, rolling them, never letting go of the cannon he had grabbed on to. He kept them rolling until they were far enough from the Combaticons that Megatron could not hurt them again.

Then the frontliner landed on his back, tossing the larger Decepticon away from his lean frame and directly into Sunstreaker's flying fist; the twins working in perfect unison, their rage fuelling them, giving them the strength to fight back like junk yard dogs, vicious and cruel.

Megatron stumbled backwards from the hit, only to be shoved back to the gold mech's fist. Sunstreaker latched onto Megatron's collar armour to hold him in place as he slammed his fist into the Decepticon's face again and again, mashing it. Destroying it.

The Decepticon tried to raise his arm in defence, to blast the Autobot away, and both sides too stunned to do anything else but to watch. Sideswipe grabbed a hold of the large mech's arm, stamping his pede into Megatron's armpit.

With a twisted smile, Sideswipe yanked on the arm harder and twisted it as hard as he could. Megatron hadn't the time to yell in pain as his arm came apart from his body before the crimson twin shoved him back to his twin.

Sunstreaker grinned back at his twin, their relish for this day riding as high as their blood lust for Megatron's energon. Memories of what Megatron had done to Cybertron, and of what he had done to fellow Autobots, forever in their minds.

Memories of torn plating, damaged bodies and fractured minds echoed painfully through the bond, and now images of what Megatron had done to the Combaticon's played like a sick reel in their minds. Enraging them all the more, driving them closer to a blood lust that would help them tear Megatron apart.

Sideswipe smashed the arm he had torn off across the Decepticon's facial plates, knocking the large mech to the ground. The Decepticon landed heavily onto his back, energon bursting from his mouth as he hit the ground.

They would kill him, and would do it in the open with Decepticons and Autobots alike could only stare and watch in horror. Shocked at how the twins had been set off on this show of rage and violence by the Combaticons of all mech, being hurt.

Prowl stood stock still, wings high at his back, blue optics almost black with checked rage as he watched the pair close in on their prey. He had felt Sideswipe's horror when Onslaught had been shot, and had known then and there that the crimson mech didn't just care for the Combaticon, no this was much deeper, stronger.

It was clear that the front liner loved Onslaught, and Prowl had felt his mech's horror at the prospect of losing what he had cared so deeply for. Prowl had held the crimson twin back, had commed Sunstreaker with the order to wait and whispered into the distraught mech's audio how to sneak around the two armies and get behind Megatron.

Wings arching higher, Prowl did not regret what he had done. He had seen enough of his mechs lose everything they had at Megatron's servos, he would not do it again. It was the only reason why he did not interfere with the twins' retribution.

They closed in on Megatron, circling him as he lay on his back dazed and damaged, rage etched in every line of their frames, their faces set in an expression of pure hatred.

"Desist." A cool, calm voice called out to them.

The twins froze for a moment, baleful blue optics blazed over a single shoulder, etched with their rage. Soundwave stood calmly next to Onslaught, blaster held firmly to Onslaught's helm, the telepath motionless next to the Combaticon.

The twins snarled, Sunstreaker's pede slamming into Megatron's throat, grinding it to crush the soft metal. Sideswipe's plating flared wide in aggression. "Get away from them."

Sideswipe's tone was oddly calm as he fully turned towards Soundwave, sickly sweet as he grinned, his smile speaking of the violence they would do should Soundwave pull the trigger. "Wouldn't want anything to happen to your cassettes, would we?"

Soundwave fought the flinch, he could feel the protective rage from the frontliners, and knew that if he harmed the Combaticons any further, they would take great pleasure in hurting every one of his cassettes, before sending them back to him in pieces.

The telepath held his ground. "Negative. Cassettes are not involved. Offer. Trade." His masked face nodded towards Megatron, who lay weakly under Sunstreaker's grinding pede.

The twins shared a look, optics flaring dangerously, EM's flaring wide with anger. Sideswipe's helm tilted upwards, chin high in defiance. The thought of killing Megatron was oh so tempting, after everything he had put them through, and now, what he had done to the Combaticons. But the thought of getting the Combaticons safely back to the Ark was a higher priority.

They could kill the war lord, but someone else would only take his place and the fighting would only resume again. Right now, Onslaught and Vortex, and especially Swindle, needed medical attention before their sparks faded.

"Free them first." Sideswipe barked, knowing that the loyalty program would keep them bound to Megatron.

Soundwave shifted for a moment, servo remaining firm where it was. "Negative. Only Megatron can free them."

Sideswipe's brow arched as his helm canted. Sunstreaker snarled as he hauled Megaton to his knees, blood energon pouring down his broken face. An energon blade was tugged from subspace and nestled against the war lord's exposed throat cables and energon lines.

Around them, every one shifted uneasily, all knowing a great battle would break out should Sunstreaker slit the Decepticon leader's throat. "Free. Them." The gold mech snarled, his denta gritting as his optics fell on his broken lover. "Now."

Megatron laughed bitterly, finding it more than just a little ironic that he was being held at knife point to save the Combaticons. They were Decepticons who deserved nothing more than what they got, and they didn't deserve the twins protection, or their loyalty. Nor their seeming love.

Sideswipe looked beyond Soundwave to where Onslaught lay on the ground, body twitching in pain, arms too weak to reach outwards.

The frontliner had come back for him, and not left him to die here alone.

Sunstreaker couldn't stop looking at Vortex's broken form. "Now Megatron. Or I will rip your throat out."

Megaton grinned, blood energon leaking from his mouth, his denta shattered from the beating the twins had given him. He looked directly at the Combaticons, his broken face still able to show the delight he felt for doing what he had done to them. "They are not worth it, you must realise that. They're expendable, something that should be used, abused and tossed away when you're done with them. They are not to be protected or cared for."

Megatron shrugged a single shoulder, a smirk spreading across his face at Sunstreaker's snarl. "You've had your fun. Now toss them away."

Pain shot through Onslaught at Megatron's words, words he had never wanted Sideswipe to hear. Sideswipe snarled softly, but he did not move from his guarded place next to his twin. Sunstreaker wrapped a servo around Megatron's throat a little tighter, his words a rough whisper. "I know what you did to him," the Decepticon knew which him that Sunstreaker referred to. "And I swear. I will kill you for it. That I promise you. Now. Release them."

Megatron snorted. "As you wish, little Autobot. Keep your trash." The grey Decepticon turned his attention back to his downed gestalt, ruby optics narrowed. "Your standing orders Onslaught," he grinned back at the Autobots. "Obey your Autobot lovers!"

Onslaught flinched and Sunstreaker snarled as he shoved Megatron into the dirt. Sideswipe half turned to kick Megatron one last time before standing next to his twin.

"Blast Off," Sideswipe called, "Go get Swin."

The shuttle didn't have to be told twice to fetch his fallen gestalt mate. Moving faster than his large size would suggest he could, Blast Off came to stand behind the twins with Swindle's broken form in his arms, using the gestalt bond to order Brawl with them. With the rest of the gestalt close to their backs, the twins moved across the battle field, Soundwave moving away from the Combaticons.

They held the telepaths optics as they passed him, coming to stand guard to the two injured Combaticons while Soundwave scraped Megatron off the ground, having to hold him upright.

Starscream blinked at the angry faces of the twins before glancing to his beaten commander. As much as he hated to admit it, it had been more than just slightly amusing to watch the twins beat Megatron into the ground. Served the fragger right.

"Decepticons. Ah. Retreat." The Ariel commander said as he backed away from the angry, hostile energy that literally crackled off the twins. He had no doubts that they would kill each and every one of them if they even suspected they posed a threat to the Combaticons right then and there.

The Autobots watched them go, waiting until the Decepticon army were nothing but dots in the sky before the twins turned to their fallen lovers, dropping down next to them.

Onslaught watched through his haze of pain as Sunstreaker knelt next to Vortex, servos on his cheeks, gently removing the broken visor and cracked face mask. The gold mech was speaking softly to him, servos impossibly gentle on the damaged plates.

He could feel the fear creeping into the gold Autobot's field when Vortex didn't respond, and Sunstreaker's distress as he inspected the cracks in the interrogator's helm, making a weak noise when it sparked.

Onslaught looked up at Sideswipe when the frontliner's gentle servos were on his plating, digits soft as they brushed his spark chamber, true fear bleeding through his guarded EM.

"H-hey. Ons. Just…" Sideswipe struggled, fear oh so evident. "Just hang on Ons. Gonna get you some help." The frontliner whispered before he glanced up, yelling for Ratchet, panic clear in this tone.

Onslaught reached out to touch Sideswipe's face, a clot of energon was coughed up when he tried to speak. The jet black servo clutched at Onslaught's, holding the damaged servo to his cheek.

Sideswipe opened his mouth to say something else, but it was lost to Onslaught as he blacked out.

()()()

The steady sound of beeping is what Onslaught awoke to. That and only two lines along the bond that were not weak and hazy. For a moment, Onslaught panicked, reaching out for Swindle and Vortex.

He took a deep breath and heaved with relief when he felt Vortex, confused and frightened, but ultimately alive and Swindle, weak and damaged along the bond.

The Combaticon groaned as his optics lit up, glancing up at the obnoxious orange of the roof that could only belong to the Autobots downed space ship. He groaned again, trying to fight the haze of the injury and whatever drugs the medic had given him to keep him under while he did his repairs.

"Onslaught?" A hesitant voice called out, soft and low in the silent med bay.

He managed to find the strength to turn his helm, and even that seemed to take much more energy than it should have, finding Sideswipe next to him. The Autobot's optics were pale and dim, worried and frightened as he stared at him.

Onslaught managed to produce a weak grin at Sideswipe, and he tried to move but his limbs felt heavy, like they didn't want to work. But he had never wanted to touch his Autobot so badly in his life. Everything hurt however his chest plates seemed to be repaired, and Sideswipe was right there; so close yet so far.

His arm twitched in the crimson hellion's direction, and Sideswipe gave him a watery smile, never having been so glad to see his commander awake before.

He didn't know what had happened when he was out, didn't know what the status of their staying with the Autobots was, but he didn't care, not when Sideswipe was so damned close. Heaving a tired sigh, Sideswipe crawled onto the berth with him, silently curling into the commander's large body.

"Thought we lost you there a few times." Sideswipe muttered into his side, unable to look into the gold optics of the Combaticon.

Weak arms circled around the lean Autobot clinging to him. "Sorry." He wheezed, his systems too weak, still stressed out.

"How did he find out?" Sideswipe's muffled voice asked.

Onslaught drew his Autobot closer to his larger frame, holding tightly, knowing just how close he came to never having this again. "I don't know Swipe." He admitted. He was so tired. So worn out and exhausted, his usually sharp mind refused to work as it should.

Sideswipe took a shuttering vent before he glanced back up to the commander, face soft and open in a way that only Sideswipe could look at him.

A shaky servo rested on Sideswipe's cheek, he was so tired, on the verge of falling back into recharge. "Not dead yet Sides. Not going anywhere now."

Sideswipe managed a shaky laugh as he rested the crest of his helm against Onslaught's. "Yeah. Bawl and Blast Off have already settled in."

Onslaught snorted. "How long have I been out?"

"Almost a week." Sideswipe said gently, servos suddenly tight on his plating. "Your spark guttered out three times in those first few hours."

Ah, that explained the frontliner's fear and neediness. No matter, Onslaught was perfectly fine with a needy Sideswipe, it just meant more contact for him. He forced his arms to wrap tighter around Sideswipe, drawing the Autobot flush to his cool frame, his spark humming with content at being so near the younger mech.

Sideswipe clung to him, sighing softly as his helm nuzzled into Onslaught's throat, his warm frame touching as much as the one beneath him as he possible could. "You're so hot." Onslaught muttered softly, enjoying the wondrous heat that his lover's frame was putting off, warming his own cooler frame. His systems already shutting down again as he began to drift into recharge, content with the frontliner's spark humming over his own, his frame in his arms.

There was still so much Onslaught wanted to tell him, and he wanted to be sure Sideswipe understood what he meant to him. But he was just so, so tired, and laying with his lover safely tucked in his arms, legs intertwined, was so much better than trying to navigate the confusion emotions.

Sideswipe laughed suddenly, the amusement in his tone bringing Onslaught a measure of happiness at hearing it. "'Course I'm hot." The frontliner preened and even the Combaticon couldn't help the snort that left him.

Sideswipe paused, becoming serious again. "I was 'fraid you'd not wake up. Was 'fraid I lost you."

Onslaught nudged him upward, gently urging Sideswipe towards his face. Lips soft against the frontliner's, the Combaticon kissed him gently. "Not going any where now."

The smile which returned to Sideswipe's face was hesitant, as though he didn't trust the situation, and if Onslaught was honest with himself, neither did he.

"Good." The frontliner nodded, digits digging into his plating. "I'd hate having to drag you back from the Well of Sparks."

Onslaught snorted, settling back down on the berth, dragging Sideswipe down with him, content for the time being. He had to ask. "Vortex and Swindle?"

Sideswipe sighed. "Swindle is still in the ICU, Ratch is pretty worried about him." the Autobot trailed off and Onslaught woke up a bit more knowing one of his own was still in the ICU.

"And Vortex?" Why was his interrogator so afraid?

Sideswipe sighed, holding onto Onslaught a little tighter now. "Ratch did all he could." Onslaught felt his spark freeze and his fuel pump sputter. "He took several bad blows to the helm, Ratchet repaired the damage, but Vortex is suffering from severe memory loss. He's defragging every night and he remembers a little more each day, but every once in a while he losses it all over again. Why?"

Onslaught frowned, fighting to sit up when Sideswipe kept him pinned down. "How is Tex right now?"

"Afraid." Onslaught said gently, trying to maneuver the frontliner from his frame.

Sideswipe sighed, and refused to let the commander move him. "He's probably lost it again then. Don't worry, Sunny's with him. He'll remind Vortex." The frontliner paused once again. "He remembers Earth very well, when it's not all gone. He's having a hard time remembering Cybertron." Sideswipe fidgeted. "It upsets him."

Onslaught sighed, gathering what little energy he could and tried to sit up again. "My team need me. I need to see to them."

Sideswipe snorted, pinning the larger mech down with surprising ease. "Ons, Swin's in the best care right now, Ratchet won't let anything happen to him. Vortex is with Sunny, and he won't let anything happen to Tex. Blast Off and Brawl are fine." The Autobot's helm canted. "If you want to help your team Ons, right now the best thing you can do is rest. Regain your strength, they'll need you soon, but you'll be useless if you don't let yourself heal."

Onslaught sneered at the Autobot, a grin coming to the others face. "Lay down and get some recharge Ons. That's what you and your team need right now."

Fatigue drained him of all his energy, forcing him to sink back to the berth. Sideswipe gave him another worried smile as he sunk down with him, curling tightly against the Decepticon's plating.

"I'm glad you're here." Sideswipe admitted softly, digits once again digging into his plating.

Onslaught tugged the frontliner closer again, holding him as tightly as he dared. "Me to."

He drifted back into recharge, holding onto his Autobot, content with the knowledge that when he woke, Sideswipe would still be there this time.

()()()

He sat in the middle of the berth, staring at orange walls he had never seen before, in a room he had never been in before.

He thought. Maybe? Where was he? Who was he! He didn't know.

Fear shot through him as he shook. Should he know this place?

The door opened and he flinched away from it, his crimson optics were bright and wide as a gold mech with audio fins entered the room, two cubes of energon held in a single servo as he grinned at him.

"Thought you might be hungry." The handsome mech said, a very small grin, a reassuring grin as he held the cube out to him.

He could only stare back, optics wide and blank at him. The reassuring grin fell from the others face, concern replacing it. "Oh. Damn it."

He flinched again, drawing away from the large gold mech when his tone turned hostile and angry. The other mech's wide shoulders slumped and he sighed, before setting the two cubes down with a gentle clink.

Sitting on the edge of the berth, the gold mech reached out to take his clawed servos, giving them a reassuring squeeze, thumbs brushing his knuckles. "You're safe. No one will hurt you here, in here. I won't let them." The mech promised.

He blinked at him, the fear receding, if only a little at the mech's gentle promise. He felt comfortable with the other, but he remained silent, allowing the other to continue. "My designation is Sunstreaker. I'm your…" Sunstreaker paused, even he didn't know what they were. "I'm your friend." No, that wasn't right either.

"I'm your," it never got easier to explain this, not when those crimson orbs watched him with fear, wide and afraid. "I'm yours. And I won't let anything happen to you."

He swallowed, and nodded. Was this real? Was Sunstreaker really his? The bright blue optics that shone back at him spoke of truth, of a need to protect.

Rotors flickered at his back in nervousness as Sunstreaker held his servos just a little tighter. "It's okay. It's going to come back to you. You'll remember everything soon, it's going to come back. It always has so far."

He made a small noise at the it always has so far bit, fear rolling through him so strongly the Autobot felt it. Shoulders slumped a little further, and Sunstreaker heaved a soft sigh. Drawing the seemingly small Decepticon into his lap, Sunstreaker held him tightly.

He sobbed softly, fear making him feel weak as he curled into the warm frame around him. He believed in Sunstreaker's promise to protect him, he had no other choice. The gold Autobot held him tightly, nuzzling at the top of his helm, his touch so very soft on his plating as his spark throbbed hotly in its casing.

"It's okay Vortex. I'll protect you. I'll keep you safe."

Vortex. My name is Vortex.

The Decepticon made a soft noise as he clung to Sunstreaker, his frame suddenly going taut as it all came rushing back to him. It was a rush of memories and emotion, it made him cry out in pain as he spasmed in his lover's hold, frame twitching and flinching.

Sunstreaker held him tighter, not daring to let him go as all the memories of Earth came flooding back, newest to the oldest. From the moment he blacked out with Megatron's servos wrapped around his throat to when Starscream awakened him that first time.

The back lash of emotions made him physically hurt, made him grip this Autobot as tightly as he could as he remembered Shockwave tearing his spark out. Then everything grew hazy, before going blank.

Vortex could hear someone panting hard erratic vents of air, and it took him a moment to realise it was him. He held onto Sunstreaker so tightly that he twisted the armour which protected the protoform, and his hot vents fogged the Autobot's rear window.

"It's alright Tex. I've got you. You're safe here." Sunstreaker's tone was soft, gentle.

Vortex sighed and for a moment he considered pushing the Autobot away from him. The moments of vulnerability, of weakness were far too numerous with the Autobot; but at that moment, Vortex didn't care.

He was warm, about to be fed and if he played his cards right, Sunstreaker would be fragging him soon enough, lulling him enough to recharge. The warm feeling that came from his chest when Sunstreaker cared for him made him shift uncomfortably, Megatron's hazy words always on an auto replay in his helm.

He had barely been aware of his surroundings when Megatron had told Sunstreaker to toss him away, and Vortex had feared Sunstreaker would. He was after all, nothing. He should have been nothing more than a fling for the Autobot.

But when Sunstreaker had come for him, Vortex had felt something. Felt something more than the usual numbness and hatred for everything, instead feeling something vulnerable that was solely for the Autobot. He still felt it, felt it when the gold mech held him like this and it made him feel invincible, all the more deadly. Sunstreaker was his reason to fight, his reason to kill; and his reason to come back from the insanity when he slipped into that dark place in his mind.

Vortex sighed as he pushed those thoughts away, clinging to the feeling itself. The feeling of being protected, of being loved, maybe. "Cybertron still isn't coming back to me." He grumbled moodily.

Sunstreaker nodded against his helm, arms still banded tight around his smaller frame. "Ratchet said it would take time for your processor to finish the defrag. It could even take a few months before your long term memory is clear again."

Vortex sighed, things he had heard all before. It made him moody and angry. "Wish I would stop losing everything randomly!" he snarled.

Sunstreaker nodded, not knowing what else to say. "You're losing it less and less though. And it's coming back faster and faster."

The Autobot's sympathy only enraged Vortex all the more. "Shouldn't be losing it at all!" he hissed, face still buried against the Autobot's chest. "It's fucking pathetic."

Sunstreaker sighed again, wishing he knew what to tell the Decepticon. "You took damage to your processor Tex. Just give it sometime."

Vortex grumbled, muttering pathetic angrily under his breath. He hated being weak, he hated having this vulnerability.

Sunstreaker only held him tighter, knowing the interrogator responded better to touch rather than words. Something still needed to be said though. "I meant what I said."

"About what?" Vortex snapped.

"About protecting you."

"Don't need protection." Vortex muttered sullenly.

Sunstreaker nodded against his helm. "About being yours. That I love you."

Vortex flinched at the words. Sunstreaker, not the type to throw those small words around carelessly, always swore that he did every time Vortex went through this. But how could he? After all he had done, all that he was. They barely knew each other, by Cybertronian standards so how could Sunstreaker know he loved someone like him?

Feeling the uncertainty in the others EM, Sunstreaker shrugged. "I just know." He answered the unasked question.

Vortex huffed, curling a little tighter against the gold plates, afraid to recharge in case he forgot again. It wouldn't matter, he always forgot, but Sunstreaker always brought him back.

"We can go down to the rec room if you want. You've been in here a long time."

The square helm shook no against his chest, drowsiness over taking his fear yet again and Vortex cursed himself for being so weak. "Still vulnerable."

Sunstreaker snorted. "Tex, the entire crew saw you with your helm split wide open. You don't get much more vulnerable than that."

Again the helm shook no. "I'll forget again out there and get lost. I'm too easy a target right now." He muttered.

Sunstreaker frowned at that. "I won't let them hurt you. Or bother you."

Confusion ate at Vortex, it made him annoyed and prickly, but he was just too tired to argue. "You really aren't going to throw me away, are you?"

Sunstreaker didn't hesitate. "No."

Vortex nodded, but was still confused as to why Sunstreaker would ever care about him, but too tired to question it. So he just let himself be held, taking comfort in the Autobot's warm body as he slipped into recharge.

Sunstreaker did not dare fool himself, he knew exactly who his violent little lover was. And he knew that if cornered, Vortex would fight back just as viciously as any frontliner, and would enjoy doing it more than anyone else on the ship. He would fight hurting and injured, more capable than most gave him credit for.

But this was Sunstreaker's room, the last place Vortex had to let his guard down and place his spark in someone else's servos. Sunstreaker knew the trust he placed within him, and Sunstreaker would never let his scrawny little interrogator down.

That much, Sunstreaker could promise him.