This is for Consuelo Higdon's birthday...which I believe is Sunday. I was going to wait to post this and its art counterpart then, but I couldn't XD I hope you like this, I worked pretty hard on it...Though I thought Flareup could've been written better.

You know something has to be wrong we you can hear a mech scream all the way from the femme's dorms. Flareup groaned, not thankful at all for the early wake-up call. It had to be the middle of the night. And she had been having such a nice dream too. She had been accepted into the Elite Guard (which she didn't really want even though it was a great honor), but that wasn't what made it good. What was good was that Sentinel Prime had been forced to induct her into service and recite a speech about her. The look on his faceplate had been priceless. Maybe if she just ignored this interruption, it would go away. She could get back to her dream and relax for the few megacycles that remained until she had to get up. Yeah…that would be good. Just relax.

Another scream, this time followed the by the sound of doors opening and femmes piling out of their rooms. Flareup shifted in her recharger, shoving her servos over her audio receptors to try and muffle out all of the noise. It was no use, and she should've known better. The femmes here were the most talkative bunch she had ever met, with little to no consideration about how it affected others. Times like these made her feel especially misplaced; the only sane femme in practically all of Cybertron. Though Glyph had mentioned one before named Red Alert who sounded pretty okay. Flareup hadn't gotten the pleasure of meeting her yet.

Looked like there was no way out of this. She begrudgingly rose from her recharger and opened her viz scanners, having to rub them several times to get them comfortable. The only way she was ever going to get any more rest was to find out what the commotion was about, confront it, and fix it. Of course, her methods of fixing were often considered unreasonable, but the problems she faced never seemed to show up again while she was around. She made sure of that. Something was uneasy about this, though. Like she had a bad feeling that she knew who was involved in the screaming already.

"Wus goin' on…?" Glyph asked sleepily, raising her head up from her own recharger.

"Go back to sleep." Flareup ordered. Her roommate didn't argue, seemingly falling back into stasis in nanoclicks. Slaggit, how could she just disregard everything that was happening outside!? Probably had her processor up in the clouds, thinking about something she read while she slept. She was notorious for doing absentminded things like that.

Flareup stormed out of the room, making several femmes jump up in surprise. Ditzy fools. She didn't even take the time to identify them before marching down the hall, heading toward the mech's dorms. It had grown considerably quiet since her dramatic entrance, but she didn't pay any heed. She was a femme on a mission. Get in. Fix it. Get out. She wasn't going to waste any more of her precious stasis napping period than needed. For all she knew, she would set a record for solving a crisis at the dead of night. Not many `bots were called to such dire trouble as this.

She got more stares from mechs as she passed by them. Femmes didn't usually go to this side of the dorms of their own will, and for good reasons. They weren't about to object or anything, though; they knew her reputation. Shooting a glare at all who made eye-contact, she finally came to the source of the disorder that had been suddenly thrust into her life. Jetstorm looked up at her hesitantly, standing awkwardly next to the door of his own room. Slaggit, she should've known.

"What's his malfunction now!?" She asked gruffly.

"I…I am not knowing…" He answered.

"You've gotta know, Jetstorm. He's your own twin for spark's sake!" Flareup cried, "Dontcha have that 'telepathic connection' or whatever?"

"I am not able to hear him correctly." Jetstorm informed, "He is…being difficult. Humming and singing loudly to be keeping me from hearing thoughts. He is never acting like this before…"

"Well, what are you going to do about it? Can't you see that this is affecting a lot of `bots? We were all once asleep, you know."

"Please to be accepting apology. I am not vanting anybot trouble." He said, "But I can be doing nothing. He forced me out of room and vill not listen to me or let me back in."

Great. He was throwing a fit. Like a little protoform.

"You mechs are all useless. Maybe if you actually thought about a solution instead of just standing out here, you would have this mess cleaned up by now!" She huffed, addressing all of the mechs that were lingering in the hallway and not only Jetstorm. They all scrambled back into their rooms fearfully, not wanting to help fix this and not wanting to face the consequences if they didn't. How barbaric. They were only out there because they heard a scream and they probably wanted to get some enjoyment from finding out who did it. Even worse than the gossiping femmes she had to deal with.

"I cannot be hearing thoughts…but I am feeling him. He is being very upset. I…I feel like I am letting him down by not being able to help…" Jetstorm muttered.

Flareup had never seen him like this before. Jetstorm had always been the more mature of the twins; he always seemed to keep his cool, as his name suggested, and pretty much retained a calm composure, not without that dash of perpetual mischief that made the twins the twins. Sure, if his brother was in trouble he would become concerned, often to the point of despair, but she had not heard of him reacting in this way. He looked like he was about to cry, oil already welling up in under his visor. All of that calmness had disappeared, and he revealed how he really felt: broken, weak, and helpless. The pain he could feel through his twin must have been agonizing on an emotional level. The whole thing almost made Flareup feel bad for not feeling bad.

"Idea!" Jetstorm suddenly exclaimed.

"What?"

"I am having idea!" He said excitedly, "You be going in and talking to him!"

No. No way. How could he even suggest something that ridiculous!? She didn't want to get involved on that degree. In fact, as long as the noise in the halls was gone, she felt that she had done her job. There was no need for her to go any deeper into this problem. No need for her to get in so far that she couldn't get out again. She should just go back to her room and return to her much desired rest.

"What are you talking about!? No, I should not go and talk to him!! It's not my fault he's being a stupid glitch who only cares about himself!" She shouted with as much defiance as she could muster, "I WOULD REALLY LIKE TO GO BACK TO SLEEP NOW, GOT IT!?"

Jetstorm cowered, as anybot respectfully should when she let her anger explode like this. They were afraid of what she would do to them. Not very often did she get physical with a `bot during one of her rages, but when she did it never turned out well for the other `bot. Nobot tried to get on her bad side on purpose. Nobot. Especially after what happened to Drift that one time she and Warpath had been at it. And he had just been a spectator.

Usually this perpetual fear gave Flareup a bit of a self-esteem boost, if you could call it that. She felt stronger and almost invincible, like she could do anything she set her mind to. She had been told that that kind of reaction wasn't suitable. That it was 'Decepticon-like behavior'. On several occasions she had received threats of expulsion from the Academy.

Bah. 'Decepticon-like behavior' her gearshaft.

There was no difference between 'Decepticon-like behavior' and 'Autobot-like behavior'. Both factions had the same opportunities, the same decisions to make. It just so happened that the two sides both had `bots in charge that had these set ideals that were forced upon everybot else that was under their command. If Flareup, Warpath, and that one `bot that worked in intel (little red guy. She never could remember his name) were in control of the Autobots…well things would be different. For one, nobot would be accused of something as absurd as 'Decepticon-like behavior'.

But this fear from Jetstorm made her feel different. Not pleased. Not empowered. More like…annoyed. She kept wondering why he could only think of that response to her shouts. Of course, sometimes fear was the appropriate response, but not now. Why didn't he stand up to her, or run away or something? At least say something! No, he had to just stand there and take it, cowering the whole time. It was completely ticking her off.

"…he vould listen to you…" He mumbled.

Alright, that was it! She knew she was going to regret this later, but she was getting really ruffled by the way the mech was looking at her. And perhaps, even though she didn't want to admit it, she was feeling sympathy for the two of them. Of course, Glyph would say that her feelings would be directed more towards Jetfire. She would go on and on about how romantic this would be, how she had read something about interactions like this. Flareup groaned just thinking about it. No, this wasn't a sympathy thing at all. She wouldn't give her roommate the satisfaction of being right. Again.

"Fine then! I'll slaggin' talk to him! Just leave me alone afterwards, okay? And don't ask me to do anything like this again!" She growled, "And stop looking so pathetic! I'm not going to slag you, got it?"

"Am getting it…" Jetstorm said slowly, scrunching his faceplate apparently not to look 'pathetic'. It looked like he had ingested some caustic oil. "…Many thank you's, Flareup."

"Whatever!" She pushed him out of the way, leaving the door to the room in front of her. She had to get this over with, and quickly. She rapped her knuckles on the cold metal, hoping and pleading that he wouldn't answer. She couldn't be forced to do this if he didn't answer. No reasonable `bot would make her do that. Don't answer. Don't answer. Don't answer.

He answered.

"I do not vish to be speaking vith you now, brother!" A muffled voice cried from the other side of the door.

"I ain't your brother." She replied coolly. Then, without even waiting for an invitation, she rammed the door open, something that Jetstorm hadn't been willing to do. She hurriedly shut it behind her, knowing she wouldn't get anything done here if he knew that Jetstorm was listening. Not that she wanted to get anything done.

The first thing she noticed was that the room was about twice the size of the one she and Glyph shared. Slaggit, the little hotshots got everything! All the lights were out, so she couldn't see how exactly how it was furnished, but she was sure it was a lot better than hers. And it probably didn't have paint stains from a certain roommate's latest venture into the world of art either.

Jetfire was huddled up in a corner, possibly next to a couch of some sorts. She could barely make him out in the darkness, a small flame in his servo revealing his faint orange outline among the shadows. It also exposed his surprised and somewhat distressed faceplate upon recognizing her.

"F-Flareup!" He squeaked, inching away as she came closer. She carefully made her way toward him, making sure to watch her step and not run into anything. Once in front of him, she laid her hands on her hips and scowled.

"What's the big deal, Jetfire!?" She began, "I could hear you scream all the way from my room! Do you realize how many `bots you woke up?"

"Sorry…vasn't meaning to…"

"Well if you weren't meaning to, why don't you just let Jetstorm back in the room and go back to sleep!?" She cried, exasperated, "Then maybe I could finally get back in my recharger!"

"…I vas having nightmare…"

Was this really what this was all about? Flareup didn't know whether she wanted to laugh or scream.

"Then maybe you should, I don't know, talk to your brother about it!? I mean, isn't that what you're supposed to do about stupid childish nightmares?" She knew she was being harsh, but she didn't care. He needed to know how idiotic this whole thing sounded to her, "Mech up, Jetfire!"

Jetfire visibly winced at her words, but didn't show any other response to her severity. "He vill not be understanding…I do not vant him to know…"

Spark, Jetstorm wasn't kidding when he said he was being unreasonable. Flareup shook her head, realizing what she had to do if she ever wanted to get this over with. She had decided long ago that this had to be the worst night of her life. It had just gotten a lot worse.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" She asked forcibly, every part of her stiffening in discomfort. Jetfire looked up, about as surprised as she was that she had asked that.

"If…if you are being okay vith that…"

"I don't have much of a choice." Flareup sighed. "Don't make me think about it, or I'll definitely not be okay."

Jetfire nodded. "Vell…Flareup, you are being so brave and tough. You can take care of yourself and others. You vere saving me…"

Oh great. Not this sob story again about how she was in his 'eternal debt' or something like that. She had heard enough of that before. All she did was save his life once, and he'd never forget about it. Or stop talking about it. It was really irritating to have him practically mention it every time they talked.

"What does this have to do with your nightmare?" She asked suspiciously.

"Is relevant." He insisted. "You see, I am not being a brave-tough-bot like you are. I can barely do anything on my own vithout my brother, not just keeping myself safe. Not just keeping…keeping anybot else safe…"

"You can stop there." She lifted her servo, "I think I got it: In your nightmare, Jetstorm died or something, right?"

Jetfire didn't respond at first, but curled up more, the flame in his hand dancing against his chassis. Flareup had expected a reaction like this. It sort of reminded her of how Jetstorm had acted when talking about his brother's troubles. He looked up at her with a solemn look on his faceplate, and then did something she wouldn't have expected.

He shook his head.

"No. Not Jetstorm…" He said softly, "You."

Flareup froze, feeling absolutely sick. He had been dreaming about her? Not only that, but when something had happened to her in this dream, it had made him scream like that? It was a bit horrifying, almost like finding out somebot was stalking you for stellar cycles. But at the same time, she unwillingly felt a pang of understanding. A caring for Jetfire. He was this concerned about her, like no other mech had ever been. She couldn't tell if she liked this emotion welling up inside her or not.

"You vere dying in front of me…could be doing nothing, couldn't stop it…just like if it vere really happening…" He whispered, "I vill never be able to be protecting you…not good enough. And if it vas my fault for losing you…"

Flareup sat down next to Jetfire, who was now staring intently at the blaze in his servos. Even if everything in her processor was screaming to leave and never think about this mech again, everything in her spark told her otherwise. Maybe it was time to stop listening to her processor so much. It had only gotten her into trouble before, anyways.

She rested her servo gently on his shoulder and smiled. "Don't worry, Jetfire. I'm not going anywhere."