Ok, this is the reason I spent two months off of Medical Journals for those of you wondering. It is done, so I can focus on MJ now. Some of it is still a little ruff, but this wasn't supposed to be this big.

Those of you wondering, this is what happens when I get a tiny little plot bunny called Reunited (Short oneshot, fyi) and it takes over. So, with that being said, this is the new and improved version of Reunited.

I hope you all like it, please don't shoot me till you read the end. This is rated a high T, just in case.

Nano-klick -second

klick- minute

Joor- hour

Orn- day

Cycle- week

Groon- month

Metacycle- year

xxXXxx means change of character or end of flashback (Only sunny has those)

ooOOoo time jump

"I want you, Arcee, Mudflap, Skids and Sideswipe on the next flight to Earth." Prowl said, scanning a datapad with sharp blue optics. His white and black doorwings were held rigidly behind him, twitching ever so slightly as he tracked the mechs around him in their mad scramble to prep the two shuttles. The Wreckers' pride and joy the Xanthium and the much smaller, faster Striker.

"Sideswipe?" Jolt asked nervously from where he was standing beside the tactician and watching the chaos.

"Yes. Is there a problem with that?" Prowl asked, optics darting over to glance at the blue and black medic beside him. The mech was younger than most in this war, but had seen far too much as an apprentice to the Autobots' legendary CMO Ratchet and had aged far more than he should ever have.

"No. I just… I mean…" Jolt trailed off, shifting nervously. Prowl's sensitive doorwings easily picked up the rapid spike of electrical current surging though the other mech's bracers. A sure sign he was nervous. He had taken on a huge task after First Aid, the former CMO after Ratchet, had left with Magnus and a dozen others.

"Yes?" Prowl prodded. The young medic was smart, but he was still too nervous for his own good.

"What about Sunstreaker?" Jolt blurted, bright blue optics downcast as again, the dangerous amount of electricity in the mech's frame surged again. Spark danced across his bracers and he nervously rubbed his pockmarked arms from electrical arcs.

Prowl sighed, doorwings dropping half an inch before returning to their usual place in a rare show of just how mentally exhausted he was.

"Autobots have searched everywhere." Prowl said quietly. "If the Decepticons have Sunstreaker, they are keeping quiet about it. No demands and all we know so far is that Sideswipe is still online. You know as well as I do that there is the possibly that Sunstreaker has offlined and that Sideswipe could still function."

"Do you really believe that?" Jolt asked just as quiet, sad optics lifting slightly to watch Prowl. The Praxian hid a flinch.

"The chances are-"

"Not the stats." Jolt said, cutting thee mech off. "Do you believe that if Sunstreaker offlined, that Sideswipe would continue to function?"

Prowl hesitated, the scenarios and numbers flying though his battle computer faster than anything another mech could image.

"No." He said finally, stopping the scenarios. "No I don't. But he is our best fighter and Prime needs him. I will remain here until the last of our forces have left."

"He won't want to leave." Jolt commented.

"I know." Prowl responded. "But he must. We can't stay on this planet anymore. Whether we like it or not, Cybertron is failing. It will not support us anymore."

"And you think this organic planet Prime told us about, will?"

"I… don't know." Prowl confessed. "But I pray that it is a place we can call home. We are too few and are a dying race. We're tired. Autobot and Decepticon alike, we are tired of fighting."

"Then one last fight, to break atmosphere." Jolt said, lip plates quirking up in a small smile.

"Yes. Find your group. The Striker is almost ready." Prowl said, straightening to attention. "I'll deal with Sideswipe."

Jolt nodded stiffly and walked off to find the mechs he was to be sent to earth with. He knew Prowl would be able to handle the volatile front liner.

ooOOoo

"No."

It wasn't a denial, it was a fact.

"I am not leaving and you can't make me." Sideswipe growled, the red warrior balancing on wheeled peds and making him helm and shoulders taller than Prowl. The tactician was used to the intimidation and didn't back down.

"You're going. You cannot expect to stay on this planet forever."

"Sunny is out there!" Sideswipe spat, jabbing a digit into the wild landscape that surrounded the ruins of Iacon. "He's out there and I'm not leaving until I find him!"

"You've had no contact with your brother for groons." Prowl countered and instantly regretted it. Sideswipe reared back like he had been struck.

"I have no intentions of leaving until every Autobot is off this planet." Prowl said quietly, but with enough strength behind the statement to make it a vow. "Prime needs your skills and I'm sending you on the next ship. It leaves within the joor. I expect you on it."

Without allowing Sideswipe time to argue, he did an about face and marched off.

xxXXxx

Their room was so empty.

Had been for too long.

Sideswipe stood in the center of their shared quarters, the two berths shoved together so that they could have the physical touch their split sparks craved.

It hurt.

His spark.

It hurt so much and he knew it was because he hadn't seen, or felt, Sunstreaker in groons. Not after that explosion. And not after the agony filled orns that followed as he recovered without his twin.

Vents caught as he struggled to stay calm and not let the flood of emotion breach. He lifted a servo to press over his spark, the dull throbbing hurting more than any injury from the 'cons. Biting back the pain, he lifted his servo, pressing it against the wall sized picture his twin had painted.

He and Sunstreaker were together, sitting on a rough outcrop watching the stars. Sideswipe was leaning back on his arm, one arm stretched to point out a shooting star. Sunstreaker was sprawled on his back, arms propped behind his helm, a slight smirk on his faceplates.

The picture was very simple but the details were perfect in every way. It was far more personal than anything he could ever possesses. He had a digital copy that he always kept on him, but it was nothing like the real thing.

Optics tore away from the painting to drift to the berth. The lonely nights when he was too afraid to recharge, not without his twin to warm and guard his back, tangled in each other's limbs as their sparks sang in union.

Some thought their bond was like lovers. Like a bond between sparkmates and they were appalled by it.

But they were wrong.

Their bond was so much more.

Sparkmates merged with each other, two sparks becoming one with each other.

They had always been 'them'. They had always been together.

Always was and always would be.

They needed the contact, the assurance that their other half was there.

Others thought they were freaks. Monsters. Abominations. Mistakes. One spark in two frames.

The love they had for each other was far more than brothers. Their need for physical contact in recharge to calm their racing, wild sparks to the steady, pulsing throb of a mech knowing he was safe in the arms of his brother.

Of his twin.

And now he was gone.

Sunstreaker's side of the berth was empty, the depression there because Sideswipe instinctively tried to roll closer to his brother and nearly falling off the berth.

Prowl wanted him off the planet in case he did something stupid.

Again.

He would betray the Autobots in a klick for his brother. And they knew it.

But no demands had come. They didn't know where the Decepticons were keeping him. They had to be, it was impossible that he had gone to the Well already.

But the painful throbbing in his spark told him otherwise.

He hadn't told anyone, not Jolt, not his friends that still struggled to scratch a little energon out of the planet, and most certainly not Prowl. Not about the new pain. The deep stabbing pain that felt like his spark was breaking. It had come sudden, about two groons ago. A splitting pain like he was being torn in half.

And it was.

A single tear worked its way past his optic, trailing down his cheekplate and along his jaw line.

His gaze slid to where Sunstreaker kept his precious paints. The fraggin chest was locked up tighter than Ironhide's entire arsenal of weapons. Promises of violent and painful termination was scrawled across the chest in his beautiful writing.

A single code was all it took though and Sideswipe was in. He selected a single color, a brush and, opening the container of paint, dipped the brush, and started dragging it down his bracer in long sure strokes.

xxXXxx

"Where the frag is Sideswipe!" Jolt yelled in a rare show of anger and annoyance. Behind him, the Wreckers were loading the Striker with the last of the supplies that he knew Ratchet would be more than thrilled to have.

"Dunno!" Skids replied.

"Yeah! 'Ee was in 'is room last I saw o' him!" Mudflap piped up.

"His and Sunny's room?" Arcee's blue counterpart asked, rolling up. Jolt gave the tiny femme a look.

"Yeah. This… this will be hard on him." Jolt said quietly just as a sleek frame caught his attention. His helm jerked up in surprise as the now silver warrior skated up.

"Sideswipe. The shuttle was ready half a joor ago." Prowl said, doorwings twitching in annoyance from where he stood beside Jolt, back plating to the hull of the shuttle.

"Had things to do." Sideswipe said, his new paint sleek after a vigorous wax and polish, no doubt of Sunstreaker's own collection. A long crate was balanced on his shoulder guard while another large crate was braced against his hip bolt. In clear, jagged glyphs, 'Stay the frag out!' was scrawled across the crates' surfaces. No doubt Sunstreaker's work. With skilled grace, Sideswipe lowered the crates to the ground, almost gently like the crates would shatter into a million pieces. But knowing Sideswipe, he probably already felt shattered.

"Sides…" Jolt started to say, taking a step toward the mech.

"Don't." He interrupted. "Just don't."

And before anyone could move, Prowl least of all, Sideswipe struck. He grabbed Prowl by the throat, the much bigger mech slamming the Praxian into the hull with brutal power and crushing his doorwings against the shuttle. Prowl reacted to the attack, blades sliding out of subspace to slash at Sideswipe subconsciously even as Sideswipe drew his own blade, pressing it to Prowl's throat cables faster than the Praxian could react, the main fuel line to his processor pulsing under the gleaming blade.

"Side-!" Jolt yelped in shock, jumping clear.

"Release me this instant Sideswipe." Prowl snarled, his mask of emotional control lost in the sudden unprovoked attack. "You're stressed and-"

"You find him!" Sideswipe spat, inches from Prowl's faceplates and the blade tight against his throat. "You tear Cybertron apart and you find him! Fraggit Prowl! You own me that much!"

Instantly Prowl's mask flared back to life. He sheathed his blades, no longer fighting to break free from the warrior's savage strength, just keeping his grip on the mech bracer to try and relive pressure on his throat.

"I said I was not leaving until every Autobot was off this planet." Prowl said, voice filled determination. "I will do everything I can to find Sunstreaker."

"You'd better." Sideswipe snarled, optics flashing a dangerous shade of purple. "Or I swear to Primus the next time I see you I'll tear your spark out!"

xxXXxx

The Wreckers' countdown flashed across the console even as the massive engines roared with power.

3…

Sideswipe shifted nervously, strapped tight to his chair and flat on his back, the shuttle near vertical. Jolt was piloting after he was deemed 'too unstable' to fly the craft. The last time he was piolet he crashed it into Kaon to try and find his brother by himself.

2…

The shuttle was long enough that against its vertical tracks, Sideswipe was able to see out across the landscape. Somewhere. Out there. Was Sunstreaker.

1…

And he was leaving him behind.

Ignition!

The shuttle surged forward, g-forces slamming Sideswipe deeper into the seat and making his fuel pump stall momentarily in the wild thrill of flight that a ground bound mech was not meant to feel. But the feeling was empty. There should have been an echo.

Another surge of recklessness that came every time they tore a seeker from the sky.

Every time they charged helm-long into battle, guns blazing, swords flashing and not a fear, or care, in the world.

Sunstreaker should have been with him.

But he wasn't.

And Sideswipe was leaving him behind.

A single tear streamed down his faceplates as he shuttered his optics.

"I'm so sorry." He whispered.

As you can tell, this is taking place a little before RotF, then after DotM, and AoE doesn't exist.

Another thing. Because I will be jumping between what's going on Cybertron, and what's going on Earth, I have completely given up on trying to convert time.

Use your imagination because quiet frankly, that conversion stuff makes my head hurt way to much.

That I know of, RotF takes place about eight months to a year after the first movie, I'm not quiet sure how long after the second the third happens, I'm uses another year or so, then because I'm not using AoE, I'm saying this entire story takes place over about four earth years. If that doesn't make sense, you your imagination. Mine's shot.

Read and review!