Author's note: Firstly, to my fellow-Christian readers, Merry Christmas! :) Unfortunately, this isn't a Christmas-themed story since I meant to post it more than a month ago, but my muse was uncooperative, so here it is as a Christmas present instead. I'll put up the remaining chapters over the course of the day.

Secondly, many thanks to my Faramir for the plot bunny on this one and to IronRaven for contributing all of Sideswipe's perspective. If the military aspects of this story seem even remotely reasonable, we can thank IR for that, too. :) Hope you enjoy! ~ Eowyn77

Sunstreaker

Anticipation. I hated it. It twisted and writhed in my spark, an unholy mix of hope and expectation and fear. It felt like three lifetimes that I'd been held here by the 'cons, but it had only been a fraction of one, and I was pretty young yet.

Part of it was the fact that I was little more than a lab experiment for that twisted excuse for a medic, Flatline. That one made even Ratchet look sane – he was obsessed with bonds. Soundwave was frustratingly aware of how effective the femmes were for communication in battle but Megatron had baggage when it came to mates, so Soundwave had Flatline experiment with alternatives, particularly twins. So Flatline had laid a trap specifically for me and Sideswipe and spent vorns satisfying his sadistically curious little spark.

Eventually Sideswipe and I managed a prison break – it was only a matter of time, really. And true to form for us, we made it spectacular. It wasn't enough for just the two of us to get out. To really blow exhaust in their faces, we took our entire column of prisoners with us. Except I managed to get hit by one of the guard-tower cannons just as I was racing toward the escape shuttle. It knocked me into temporary stasis, and by the time I'd come around, Sideswipe was so long gone that I couldn't even feel him over our bond anymore.

At first Flatline was glitched beyond words he was so mad, but after killing most of the remaining prisoners in the camp, he suffered a sudden bout of optimism. This was just an opportunity for another experiment – this time in bond-sense deprivation. So he obliterated the prison camp from orbit and hauled me off to an outpost in the most middle-of-nowhere space bridge he could find.

He hoped Sideswipe would come for me, and for a while, so did I – not so I could escape, but so that Sideswipe and I could together take out the glitch who had the ball-bearings to experiment on and separate us. Eventually, though, I just wanted to escape. The emptiness on Sideswipe's side of the bond pulled at me and it made me angry – more angry than over the fact that they destroyed my finish, more angry than the pain of torture – but there were precious few opportunities to take it out on anybody.

The other reason I felt like I'd been here since the creation of Cybertron was the fact that the 'cons hated my circuits enough to slice me open and stomp on them. I knew this from experience. That (among other things) was the reception I had all three times I escaped and got recaptured. I tried biding my time, tried waiting for word of other Autobots, for word of Sideswipe, but always the anticipation ate at me like the acid Flatline painted me with until I finally just had to break out and make a run for it. Made it half-way to the next star system before they caught me last time.

The problem was I didn't know where Sideswipe was. After a few vorns of torturing me, the 'cons also accepted that I didn't know. So when I escaped, we all knew that I was just randomly running and it became a game of turbocat and cybermouse – including the gutting when I finally got caught. Did I mention that Flatline was a sadistic little glitch? I didn't really stand a chance of escaping until I had someplace to escape to, because as much as I hated to admit it, the thick-chipped cowards who guarded me outnumbered me enough that fighting my way to real freedom wasn't an option.

News of the universe outside wasn't as hard to come by as I had first expected. Drudge, Piston, Pummel, and Frequency were the usual suspects in most of the pranks pulled on Flatline's base, so they were stuck guarding me most of the time. And since they were stupid enough to get caught when they were up to no good (or to get framed for it when they weren't the pranksters), they were also pretty careless as guards. They liked to brag about Decepticon victories and made a point of naming the Autobots who fell in the running battles that were the War now. The only exception to that came a little while after my third escape and recapture. Frequency and Pummel spoke in dark, quiet tones about Megatron's death on some backwater organic planet called Earth. If Megatron was dead, I was sure that Prime had something to do with it, and where Prime was, the Autobots would rally. And if Sideswipe was still free, he'd get his shiny silver aft to Earth as quickly as his thrusters could carry him.

But knowing the planet was called Earth didn't tell me where it actually was. So I rotted in that holding cell for a few deca-orns more, waiting for the Idiot Brigade to let slip a little more intel. One day, I came out of recharge to see Drudge strut right up to the bars of my cell. "Me and my buddies, we're takin' a vote," he announced. "How we gonna kill you."

"Well I've got a while yet," I easily answered. "It'll take you vorns to count the votes among the four of you."

He snorted. "You think you're so smart, pretty boy – "

"Compared to you, Drudge, rocks are smart."

He didn't rise to the barb, though, apparently enjoying his news too much. "Frequency told me that Soundwave sent a transmission to Flatline today. Wants him to come to Earth."

Still reclining in my berth, I stared at the ceiling, wondering why Drudge would be telling me this. Was he trying to bore me to death now? Flatline wouldn't leave his precious experiments for Megatron, so why did Soundwave think he'd abandon his base for Megatron's third in command?

"Frequency says Soundwave caught a complete set of twins plus a femme. Guess Flatline won't be needing you anymore."

His words made my energon run cold. It wasn't like I was getting first-rate treatment to begin with, but if Flatline had no use for me, then I was dead – after a long, painful farewell, I was sure. Rolling my head to look at Drudge, I drawled, "Then I'll see you in the Pit."

He sneered, recognizing my words for the threat they were, and swaggered back out of the cell block.

I had no intention of letting Drudge tear up my armor any worse than it already was, especially now that I had what I needed. True, I didn't know where Earth was, but Flatline did. All I needed to do was escape, wait for Flatline to leave, and follow him. For a 'bot with my fighting skills, it'd be a piece of oil cake.

My first escape vorns ago had been an accident. Flatline's security mech Klaxon had changed the code on the holding cell and apparently Piston had missed that update. He walked into the holding block to deliver my fuel ration but couldn't get out because he didn't know the new code. So he had to call in to Klaxon and ask for it. Being the idiot that he is, he did all that over an open comm line. It took a while to hack my way into the security system, but Sides and I weren't renowned for our prank prowess for nothing, and Klaxon was a sparkling compared to Prowl or Red Alert. Having the code made it downright easy. So long story short, I made a loop of the security transmission showing me in recharge, unlocked my cell, and waltzed out of the base, taking a couple of mechs out just for fun. Being a realist, I knew what the chances were of ending up right back in this cell, so I took the time to build a nice little back door into their security program before making my escape. Each time I got recaptured, I built another back door or two just out of spite. I could leave whenever I wanted, and now that I knew that my time was up and how to get to Earth, I decided to check out of this Decepticon Pit-hole.

They were expecting me to make a break for it, of course, so I took a pretty devious route. I marched down to the common room, grabbed Klaxon to use as a shield and then made for the nearest airlock. The only hitch in the plan was that his fellow 'cons shot the glitch to pieces before I was out in the open, so I didn't get the satisfaction of killing him myself.

It wasn't until I was speeding through the welcome chill of space in my cometary form that I wondered if maybe Drudge had been lying. The mech didn't have the creativity for that kind of thing, but maybe Flatline had put him up to it. I figured I'd find out soon enough.

Four cometary forms followed me – the Idiot Brigade, as usual. I cussed to myself in the darkness for being taken in by Drudge of all mechs but vowed to make the most of my freedom for as long as it lasted. And I decided to keep an optic on the space bridge near Flatline's base, just in case my first instinct had been right.

For less than an orn they followed me and then they retreated back to the base, taking up defensive positions around the space bridge. Flatline's outpost was empty, except for those four mechs, but still I doubted. If I could be sure Flatline had gone to Earth – sure that Sideswipe would be on the other side of that bridge waiting for me – then I would have just run the blockade. On the other hand, it was the Idiot Brigade standing between me and the space bridge, so it was only a matter of time before they'd do something stupid and give me the opening I needed.

Grumbling to myself about how wretched anticipation was, I settled in to wait.