Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jetstorm had never been so livid in his life.

He stood with his arms crossed as his brother aimed his next shot. In a secluded corner of the energon refinery they worked at, with nothing better to do, Jetstorm had challenged Jetfire to a game the two liked to call ‘get the wrench as close to the energon cube as possible’. He hadn’t planned on losing.

Jetstorm was quickly learning that plans don’t always go the way he wants them to.

His brother took his shot, throwing the wrench he was holding. With a pang, it landed a servos distance away from the small cube of energon they had placed as the target. It was even closer than his previous wrench.

<< Ha! See that brother? You’re surely losing now! >> the orange mech gloated in Vosian, their native language. His hands were on his hips. He was lucky they were on the clock, otherwise Jetstorm might have tackled him right then and there. The blue mech didn’t feel like getting yelled at again though, so he abstained.

<< You’re lucky you’re a good shot, it makes up for your ugly faceplate. >>

Jetfire’s bravado deflated at the insult.

<< Well you’re a bad shot and you have an ugly faceplate, >> he shot back. Neither of the bots bothered to mention that as twins, they had the same faceplate. The only real difference between them was their paintjobs. Jetfire was a bright orange, whereas his twin was a deep blue. They’d never had the best of luck blending into crowds. They were practically glowing against the dull greys of the machinery that surrounded them. Even the energon stains that littered the place were duller than they were.

Jetstorm picked up his final wrench. He could feel the orange mech’s optics boring into him, taunting him. He loved his brother, but he would not accept defeat.

Raising his servo, Jetstorm took aim. For once, his twin was so quiet he could hear the clanking of and humming of the refinery. He took note of the energon cube among the scattered wrenches. He envisioned what it would be like to throw the wench perfectly beside the cube. He aimed his shot.

And then he threw.

The wrench arced in the air, landing right beside the cube, before promptly bouncing away, lost to the sea of tossed wrenches.

Slag.

In his peripheral vision, Jetstorm could see his brother throw his arms up in celebration.

<< Whoo hoo! >> the orange mech laughed. << I win! That’s three in a row brother, you’re getting rusty. >>

Jetstorm refused to comment on his twin’s insult. He would get him next time.

Jetfire continued, << I suppose we should be cleaning this up now… >> He looked sorrowfully around at the scattered wrenches.

The blue mech knew his brother better than anyone. They weren’t cleaning this up.

<< Or we could just leave it here. We’ll be back soon enough, >> Jetstorm finished his thought.

The twins worked as mechanics in the refinery, and they were good at their job. They were so fast at repairs that they spent most of their shift playing games like the one Jetstorm just lost. To avoid suspicion, they wandered around the refinery every so often, looking for work, and when they didn’t find any, they would return to hanging out in their corner, waiting for their shift to be over.

On occasion however, work found them.

“Oi, you slaggers!” their boss yelled at them. Both twins jumped, turning their helms towards him. The massive green and purple mech was standing on the catwalk that passed by the twin’s hiding spot, one of the few places they could be spotted from. His servos gripped the railing as he leaned slightly over the edge. “What did I say about messing around while on the clock?”

“But we be not ‘messing around’. Much work being done,” Jetstorm yelled back, switching to Iconian. The language felt unnatural coming out of his voice box. The twins had gotten better at speaking Iconian since arriving in the city, but they were far from perfect. Their accent certainly didn’t help.

To complete the image of two bots hard at work, Jetfire held up a wrench.

“I don’t give a cyberrat’s aft. You’re getting paid to fix these hunks of metal, not to lounge about doing whatever it is you half sparks get up to back here.”

Jetstorm could hear the quiet scratching of metal as his brother shifted behind him. Irritation trickled through their spark bond.

Their boss continued, “I want you two down in the smelter, pronto. I got a report of a funny noise coming out of it. Make it go away, will ya?”

Irritation was shoved aside to make way for confusion. “I be not understanding, sir. How is noise funny?” Do you be laughing at it?” Jetstorm asked, his question genuine.

Their boss’s grip on the railing intensified. “Look, you two fraggers, just go fix it.”

“Yes sir,” the twins said simultaneously, before turning around to head to the energon smelter. They could hear their boss clanking off to whichever unfortunate co-worker happened to be next.

<< Why do all the available gigs involve working for an afthole? >> Jetfire asked, not even bothering to wait until they were out of audial distance. Not like their boss could understand them anyways.

Jetstorm would have been able to feel the animosity radiating off his twin even if they didn’t share a sparkbond. Through said bond, he urged his brother to cool off. He didn’t want this to turn into a scene. One more of those, and Jetstorm figured they would be fired. The only reason they hadn’t been already was their rare ability to fix these machines faster than they broke down.

<< I’m not gonna make a fuss, >> Jetfire continued. << I know we need this job. It’s just… >>

<< It would be nice if we could earn some shainix without someone insulting our sparks, >> Jetstorm finished.

The orange mech’s silence spoke for him. Mechs being glitches about the twin’s sparks wasn’t anything new, yet it always got under Jetfire’s plating. Jetstorm would be lying if he said it didn’t bother him too.

The twins didn’t know much about twin sparks, other than their own experiences. It seemed no one else knew much either. Most bots assumed their sparks must be faulty from being split when they crawled out of the well. Getting a job in Iacon is hard enough without everyone assuming you’re incompetent.

Others were creeped out by the twins. Twin sparks were far from common; Jetfire and Jetstorm had yet to meet another pair. Many a mech backed away after realizing what the twins were. Other than their sparkbond, they weren’t that different from regularly sparked bots, but some mechs really believed the crazy rumours that were spread about twin sparks. Contrary to what some bots believed, the brother’s sparks weren’t so unstable they could explode at any moment. They hoped.

The pair descended further into the refinery. They passed a few mechs along the way, all of whom were larger than the twins. None of the bots acknowledged them. A few levels later, and the mechs had thinned out. The hallways got narrower, and Jetfire was now walking behind his brother, rather than beside him. The dull smell of burnt energon that constantly permeated the refinery got stronger with each step they took.

The sweltering heat informed the twins they had made it to the smelter. Luckily, this machine didn’t break down much – fixing it was miserable.

The two could hear the high pitch screeching their boss was talking about.

<< What is so funny about that noise? >> Jetfire asked, to which his brother shrugged his shoulders. Their boss could be weird sometimes.

The blue twin advanced towards the smelter, reaching into his subspace for his tools.

Instinct held Jetfire back. The sound certainly wasn’t funny, but there was something off about it.

Was the smelter usually this hot?

Jetstorm reached for the control panel, opening it to get an initial overview of what could be wrong with the smelter.

<< Brother, wait, >> Jetfire warned.

His brother turned around. He was about to argue, until he felt Jetfire’s fear through their bond. Jetstorm gave him a confused expression, prompting the orange twin to continue.

<< I think the – >>

Jetfire was cut off by the roaring of exploding energon.

Chapter Text

Jetfire’s audials were ringing.

His optics shuttered open. The ceiling was reflecting a flickering orange glow.

He felt the floor of the refinery along his back moments before the pain hit.

It cut into every part of his frame. His processor couldn’t handle all the input, and short circuited.

Jetfire screamed, but he couldn’t hear it over the ringing in his audials. His vents finally kicked in, making a futile attempt to cool him down.

Letting out a choked gasp, Jetfire laid a servo on the floor and pushed himself onto his side. Everything in him protested the movement as pain washed over his frame. His shaky vents only let in smoke.

Flaming energon surrounded him on all sides. Everything was orange. Everything except…

The blue mech’s screams cut through the ringing in Jetfire’s audials. Jetstorm lay face down in front of his brother, the flames on his right arm turning his blue paint into a black charred mess. A pool of energon surrounded him, dangerously close to the flames.

The sight of his twin sent Jetfire’s processor reeling. << Jetstorm! >> he screamed. With the ringing in his audial subsided, he could now hear his own voice, along with the crackling of the flames that drew ever closer to the energon surrounding Jetstorm.

The twin’s sparkbond was filled with agony. Waves of pain, fear, and desperation crashed into each other. Neither bot could tell who’s emotions were who’s.

Jetfire pushed himself up, resting his weight between his servos and his hip. The pain he felt moments earlier was dissolved by the sight of his brother.

His body had other plans. Jetfire’s elbows buckled, sending him crashing back towards the ground.

No. He refused to let his brother lie there, screaming in pain, as the flames threatened to engulf him. Not while Jetfire was still online.

He pushed himself back onto his servos, willing his frame not to fail. Jetfire knew the movement caused him pain, but he refused to feel it. Jetstorm was more important.

The orange mech dragged himself over to his twin.

<< Jetstorm! >> he called out. The only response was a mix of screaming and crying from his brother’s voice box.

Looking over his slowly charring frame, Jetfire considered how best to move his brother. He would need to put out the flames destroying his arm first.

He scanned his subspace for anything useful. Thank Primus it wasn’t broken in the blast. Among the refinery tools, Jetfire found the tarp the twins would occasionally use to make their corner of the refinery more comfortable.

Pulling out the tarp, Jetfire covered Jetstorm’s arm with it. The fire was extinguished, but his brother’s spark splitting screams only sharpened.

<< I’m sorry! I’m sorry, >> Jetfire cried. The contact between the tarp and Jetstorm’s frame must’ve been too much. His brother feebly attempted to move his arm away from the tarp. Jetfire hated causing his twin pain like this, but he would hate it more if he died.

Jetfire removed the burnt tarp and placed it back in his subspace. His orange frame lurched in pain, his fuel pump threatening to purge. The room spun as Jetfire attempted to regain control over his frame.

Nope. Ignore it. Jetstorm’s more important than the pain. And the last thing they needed right now was more energon on the ground. The fire was now way too close to the twins.

<< Jetstorm, I’m going to move you now. >> Jetfire tried to keep his tone as calm as he could, given the fear he was feeling. He didn’t think his brother could hear him, until his blue faceplate turned to face him.

Oh.

Oh frag.

Jetstorm’s faceplate was drenched in energon. It was pouring out of both his mouth and a nasty crack that ran from his helm to his cheek. Only one optic was online.

Jetfire’s frame froze. << You’re… you’re gonna be ok, brother, >> he whispered, more to himself than to his twin.

Jetstorm just let out a soft cry.

A loud crash shocked Jetfire back to his senses. They had to move, now. He filed away Jetstorms injuries in that hidden corner of his processor where he was currently shoving his pain. He could think about those things later, if they made it out.

When.

When they made it out.

Jetfire placed his servos on Jetstorm’s frame. Counting himself down, he flipped his brother onto his back. The blue mech let out a curt cry before shutting off his vocalizer.

Through their bond, Jetfire could feel Jetstorm apologizing to him. The orange mech did his best to send reassurance back, despite how panicked he felt. Jetstorm had no need to apologize. He could deal with the screaming. They just needed to get out.

Jetfire positioned his servos under Jetstorm’s arms.

<< Let’s get out of here. >>

Straining his pistons as much as he could, Jetfire began to drag his brother out of the flaming room. Progress was slow. The twins were weak; their ventilation systems were overtaxed as they cycled hot smoke through their vents. Jetstorm’s frame scraped against the ground as his twin dragged him, his cries mixing with the sounds of the refinery falling apart.

Jetfire fought with his frame, forcing it to keep moving. He was injured, exhausted, and terrified. His frame came closer to shutting down with every step, but he wouldn’t let it. Jetstorm needed him, slag it.

Against all odds, the pair made it out of the hallway leading to the energon smelter. They could now hear the shouts of their co-workers amongst all the other chaos.

Taking precious time to look around, Jetfire saw that the rest of the refinery didn’t fare much better than the room they just left. Flames covered the place, with energon splattering the sections that hadn’t yet caught fire.

He could hear their co-worker’s shouts, but they were nowhere to be seen.

“Help!” Jetfire cried out as loud as he could. He prayed to Primus that they could hear him through the noise of the burning refinery. “Help!”

He yelled out several more times before he got a response.

“Jetfire?!”

Relief flooded Jetfire’s processor. He sent as much of it as he could through the sparkbond.

No response came.

Jetstorm wasn’t moving. No sound was coming out of his voice box.

“Jetfire?! Is that you?”

The orange twin had to force himself to respond. “Is me and Jetstorm!” he yelled back, his voice shaking.

The bond was still there. His brother wasn’t dead. Jetstorm just wasn’t responding.

They needed to get out of here.

“Level three! Hurt!”

Please let them hear him. Please let them understand him.

Jetfire didn’t have it in him to drag his brother any further. Primus, he tried, but his frame had finally started to shut down. His vents stuttered as he attempted one final time to pull his brother to safety. It didn’t work, and he collapsed beside his brother.

“Help! Level three!” he shouted again, unsure if they heard him the first time. His voice didn’t have the same power behind it anymore.

There was energon on the floor. He wondered whether it was Jetstorm’s or his own.

Jetfire heard the clanking of pedes approaching. He never saw whose they were. His optics blacked out, and he shut down before he got the chance.

Chapter Text

Autobot High Council Meeting Log

Date: 14 / 6 / 750052 PW

Meeting code: 473601

Called by: Ultra Magnus

Subject: Response to growing Decepticon activity

Recorded by: Longarm Prime

Members present: Ultra Magnus, Perceptor, Alpha Trion, Longarm Prime, Sentinel Prime

Meeting Notes

Four out of the five members were present at 15 orns, the meeting’s scheduled start time. Meeting commenced a breem later after the arrival of Sentinel Prime.

Ultra Magnus began by requesting a report of recent Decepticon activity from Longarm Prime. A very thorough report was given by said Prime.

Ultra Magnus expressed concern about the increase of Decepticon activity on the fringes of Autobot territory. The floor was opened for suggestions as to potential courses of action.

Sentinel Prime suggested martial law concerningly quickly. He was raidly shut down by multiple members of the council. He could be heard grumbling for the next five kliks.

It was concluded a breem later that what was needed was a show of force. No valid suggestions were put forward as to what that show of force should be.

Two long breems of deliberation later, Perceptor mentioned his previously dismissed Project Safeguard. The idea was once again dismissed by Ultra Magnus, who claimed the dangers of such a procedure was not one he was willing to risk his soldiers on.

Silence followed. No more ideas were suggested.

The rather unproductive meeting was concluded at 15 orns 8 breems.

Project Safeguard

NOT APPROVED
On hold until risk of harm to or deactivation of potential subjects is decreased.

Project manager: Perceptor

Abstract

Using code obtained from Starscream, reframe an Autobot to create an Autobot flyer.

Benefits

Flying Autobots will give a previously inconceivable advantage to the Autobots, allowing for control over the skies as well as the ground.

Drawbacks

Frame replacements have a low success rate. High risk of deactivating any mech who volunteers.

Click to continue reading

Patient File #83888

Designation: Jetfire

Frame Type: C (subclass 2)

Age: 40 vorns (estimated)

Emergency contact: N/A

Supervising medic: Axis

Medical Notes

27 / 6 / 750052 PW

Patient admitted suffering severe energon loss, left shoulder cable damage, cracked left shoulder and arm plating, lacerated T cog, broken structural supports in left leg, strained pistons in both legs, and irritation to the ventilation system. Admitted to the ER and operated on to stabilize spark. Required two energon transfers. Spark crashed once. Patient is currently stable, spark strength red-orange. Patient is unresponsive, their condition is being monitored for improvements.

Additional - Patient is twin sparked with patient #83889, designation Jetstorm. Patient crashed at the same time their twin crashed for the third time. Inconclusive if the two are spark-dependant.

29 / 6 / 750052 PW

Patient’s physical condition remains consistent. Spark strength is degrading regardless. Rate of degradation appears to follow their twin’s condition. Patient remains unresponsive.

31 / 6 / 750052 PW

Patient shows no signs of physical improvement. Spark strength is red, but consistent. Patient remains unresponsive.

33 / 6 / 750052 PW

Patient is unresponsive. Condition is not improving. It has been decided that patient and their twin will be given to the research division for twin spark research if their condition does not improve before 2 / 7 / 750052 PW.

Patient File #83889

Designation: Jetstorm

Frame Type: C (subclass 2)

Age: 40 vorns (estimated)

Emergency contact: N/A

Supervising Medic: Axis

Medical Notes

27 / 6 / 750052 PW

Patient admitted suffering severe energon loss, fractured chassis plating, severe burning on the right arm, punctured tank, irritation to ventilation systems, fractured faceplate, cracked right optic, melted back plating, and spark case fractures. Admitted to the ER and operated on to stabilize spark. Required three energon transfers. Spark crashed three times. Patient is currently stable (somehow), spark strength red-orange. Patient is unresponsive, their condition is being monitored for improvements.

Additional - Patient is twin sparked with patient #83888, designation Jetfire. Their twin’s spark appears to respond to patient's condition. Both twins crashed in sync when patient crashed for the third time. Inconclusive if the two are are spark-dependant.

Important - Patient's spark case is fixed but fragile. Treat with caution.

28 / 6 / 750052 PW

Operation to fix patient’s right optic unsuccessful. Spark flares caused the spark case to re-fracture. Spark case has since been repaired. Patient remains unresponsive.

31 / 6 / 750052 PW

Patient shows no signs of physical improvement. Spark strength is red, but consistent. Patient remains unresponsive.

33 / 6 / 750052 PW

Patient is unresponsive. Condition is not improving. It has been decided that patient and their twin will be given to the research division for twin spark research if their condition does not improve before 2 / 7 / 750052 PW.

To: Perceptor

From: Wheeljack

Subject: you gotta check this out

Hey Percy, you seen this? First Aid sent it to me. Made me think of your Safeguard idea. Seems like they need a full frame replacement anyways. I’d hate to see them deactivate if there’s a chance we could help. And imagine not one, but two flying Autobots.

The one and only,
Wheeljack

Patient File #83888 Patient File #83889

To: Wheeljack

From: Perceptor

Subject: Re: you gotta check this out

Interesting. I will bring this up with Ultra Magnus and the council.

Perceptor

Autobot High Council Meeting Log

Date: 36 / 6 / 750052 PW

Meeting code: 473603

Called by: Perceptor

Subject: Potential response to recent Decepticon activity

Recorded by: Longarm Prime

Members present: Ultra Magnus, Perceptor, Alpha Trion, Longarm Prime, Sentinel Prime

Meeting Notes

Meeting commenced at 14 orns 8 breems, on time for once. Perceptor began by re-introducing Project Safeguard, going over its predicted benefits for the Autobot cause. Ultra Magnus grew visibly annoyed, before asking Perceptor why he was bringing this up.

Perceptor presented the medical files of two twin sparks, saying quote, “A frame replacement couldn’t hurt them more.” This was followed by outrage, mainly from Alpha Trion. Sentinel Prime remained uncharacteristically quiet.

Eventually, Perceptor was given the go ahead to use the twins for Project Safeguard, on the condition that should he succeed, the twins could not be forced to join the Elite Guard, they must be given a choice.

The thankfully short meeting ended at 14 orns 12 breems.

Project Safeguard

APPROVED

Project manager: Perceptor

Abstract

Using code obtained from Starscream, reframe an Autobot to create an Autobot flyer.

Benefits

Flying Autobots will give a previously inconceivable advantage to the Autobots, allowing for control over the skies as well as the ground.

Drawbacks

None. The mechs selected will deactivate without the intervention of this project.

Click to continue reading

Chapter Text

Something was beeping. It was a repetitive sound, one soft beep emanating every few nano-kliks.

Distantly, Jetstorm heard mechs talking. He couldn’t make out what they were saying.

The world went quiet again as Jetstorm slipped back into recharge.

———

The beeping was back. Jetstorm wrestled his processor back to consciousness. He could feel a mech standing beside the berth he was laying on, his servos on his frame. It felt wrong. Something was wrong.

Jetstorm tried to move his arm. No response came. His processor was too scrambled to make sense of it.

———

Jetstorm found himself waking up once again. The beeping was still there. It felt louder, more present. Jetstorm thoughts cleared up as his systems and coding booted up.

Where was Jetfire?

Jetstorm was tense as he called for his brother through their spark bond. A ripple of nausea passed through his frame. His frame… something was off with his frame. He didn’t recognize some of the systems that were starting up. That was a later Jetstorm problem though. Current Jetstorm had to find his twin.

The smelter had blown up. Jetfire had dragged him screaming out of the wreckage, and now…

Jetfire was alive. He could feel as much through their bond. Alive, just not awake.

Jetstorm onlined his optics. Or, at least he tried to. His vision was cracked, literally cracked. There were bright strips of colour passing through half his vision. Some of the chunks that weren’t covered by the colourful static were black and white. About a quarter of his vision was working properly.

Ok. Frag.

He looked to his right side, tilting his helm at an odd angle to compensate for the damage. From what he could see, the room was a cluttered mess. Workbenches filled the place, and were covered in tools and mechanisms Jetstorm couldn’t even hope to name. He certainly wasn't at the refinery anymore.

Jetstorm tilted his helm the other way, and let out an audible ex-vent. There, lying on a berth much like the one Jetstorm was on, was Jetfire.

But, no it wasn’t. That wasn’t Jetfire. That couldn’t be him. Jetstorm knew who his brother was, slag it, and the mech lying next to him was not his brother. Similar, yes, but his plating was all wrong. It was too sleek, too light. Jetfire was an orange mech, whereas this stranger was a mix of orange and white. His helm was different, and his proportions were all wrong.

Jetstorm felt panic rising within him. He felt for their spark bond again, this time focusing on where his brother’s side of the connection was coming from. He had to find his twin, and make sure we was alright.

The faint source of Jetfire’s spark bond was radiating off the mech to Jetstorm’s left. But, but he couldn’t be, no. What happened to his twin?

<< Jetfire? >> he called out. His voice was laced with static, and his vents hitched.

Someone who distinctly wasn’t Jetfire responded. Jetstorm couldn’t see them thanks to his glitched vision, but he wasn’t willing to take his optics off his twin.

”Percy, I think one of them is awake,” the mystery mech said. His voice was subdued, almost gentle.

Jetstorm could hear the sound of mechs moving. His spark was racing. He pulled his right arm back, and began to push himself up, despite the fact that his joints felt awkward, and his arm misaligned.

A white frame with green and red accents was looming over him almost immediately, his servo pushing Jetstorm back down gently.

”Woah there mech, slow down. You need to be careful. Just cause you’re all new and shiny don’t mean you’re not still- of course you used that arm.”

Jetstorm understood about half of the words coming out of the mech’s mouth.

”I- what-“ he stuttered, vents still uneven.

“Hey, chill out. You’re ok, Percy and I got you and your twin all fixed up.”

Why would he need to chill out? Jetstorm saw no reason to lower his internal temperature.

The mention of his brother caught his attention though. “Jetfire?” he asked.

”Yeah,” the mech smiled, “and you’re Jetstorm, right?”

Thank Primus, something he could understand.

”Yes. Jetfire ok? What-“ he couldn’t find the words. What happened to them?

“He’s fine mech,” the white mech reassured. “Actually, Percy?” he said, glancing in Jetfire’s direction.

Jetstorm followed his gaze. A red mech, previously covered by the static in his vision, was standing by Jetfire, watching a monitor that was hooked into him. Jetstorm noticed he was hooked into a monitor of his own. There was a cylindrical device on the mech’s shoulder that Jetstorm could only guess at the purpose of.

”Stable, and spark strength is increasing,” the mech, who he assumed to be Percy, said.

”See? Told’ya, he’s fine,” the white mech said, looking back at Jetstorm.

The blue twin only felt mildly reassured. His brother was still unconscious on the berth. Jetstorm couldn’t reach him through their bond. And Jetfire was all… wrong. Did the two do something to him?

Jetstorm felt his vents speed up. He tried to shimmy out from under the white mech’s servo, to no avail. None of his parts moved the right way. He was all disjointed and wrong, and he couldn’t slagging see what was going on, and Jetfire wasn’t ok and what happened what the frag is happeni-

“Hey mech,” the white mech’s steady voice cut through his panic. “You gotta vent, ok? You’re ok, Jetfire’s ok. You’re ok, yeah? We fixed you up, just vent.”

Jetstorm could understand enough of what the mech was saying to focus on his venting. The mech above him joined in, guiding him. Jetstorm didn’t truly calm down though, not until he felt a presence in his spark. A weak yet familiar voice filled the air.

<< Jetstorm? >>

The blue mech all but whimpered at the sound of his twin. He turned his helm, placing the now white and orange mech in the functioning part of his vision. Jetfire’s optics were open, and staring right back at Jetstorm.

<< Jetfire? >> he ex-vented. << Are you ok, brother? Are you hurt? What happened? >>

<< I, I don’t know. >> Jetfire answered. << I think I’m ok though. >>

Their spark bond was filled with relief. However, a small twinge of fear snuck in as Jetfire looked over his frame.

<< What… what happened to our frames? >>

Our? Jetstorm looked down at his own frame.To describe how he felt at the sight as disorientating would the understatement of the vorn. He was looking at where his frame should be, but he wasn’t looking at his frame. From what he could see, the plating was the wrong shape, and in the wrong place. A darker shade of blue mingled with the shade he was familiar with.

”Explanations are most likely in order,” Percy cut in.

“Why… why do we be looking different?” Jetfire asked.

”Do you remember what happened at the energon refinery?” said Percy.

Jetfire nodded.

”You two were critically hurt, and your condition wasn’t improving. It did not appear that you would recover without drastic measures.” Percy’s monotonous voice made it easy to follow what he was saying. “Myself and my associate Wheeljack were able to give you both full frame replacements. That is not all though. There is a reason we were able to get the resources for such an intense procedure.” He paused, breaking optic contact for a moment. “You are currently in an Autobot research lab. We were not only able to give you full frame replacements, but we were able to use code obtained from a Decepticon to reformat your frames. Should we have succeeded, you two are now the first Autobot flyers.”

Jetstorm must have misunderstood something. Their bond informed him that his brother felt the same. Full frame replacements? Flyers?

”… What?” was all he managed to get out.

”Yes, flyers,” Percy said. “The procedure was purely theoretical though, we will have to test-“

“Percy,” Wheeljack cut in. “Maybe now’s not the time?” He looked down at the two obviously scared mechs. “The important thing,” he said, now speaking to the twins, “is that you two are alive and alright. Me and Perceptor here are gonna make sure of that. Now, we seem to have a bit of a language thing going on here. How well can you understand us?”

”Enough,” Jetstorm responded.

”Alright, let us know if you don’t understand anything we say.” Wheeljack waited for a nod from both of them before continuing. “Now, how are you both feeling? Any pain, or anything of immediate concern?”

If their spark bond was anything to go off of, they were feeling slagging terrified. What did the Autobots want with them? Jetstorm found it easier not to think about it. Later Jetstorm problems.

”My vision being funny,” he said. If funny meant broken the way the smelter was, then yeah, his vision was funny.

”That… was a concern of ours,” Perceptor said. “Your optics are too closely integrated into your processor to completely replace. The optic unit itself has been fully replaced, but we were not able to replace the internal wiring, which appears to be broken.”

Ok, Jetstorm did not catch that.

”Um…” he said, looking over at Wheeljack.

”Right. Simple phrasing, Percy.”

“… We are aware your optic is broken. We will try to find a way to repair it.”

Jetstorm gave a nod to confirm he understood.

”Oh, also,” Wheeljack said, “be careful with your frames. Yes, most of you was replaced,” Jetstorm could feel his twin shudder, “but you can’t replace a protoform. So some parts of you,” he looked over at Jetstorm, “like your arm there, are still damaged. You’ve got some pretty strong painkillers in your systems though, so you shouldn’t be able to feel it.”

Jetstorm was glad he couldn’t feel it. He didn’t want to think about how it felt for his arm to literally melt off him. Didn’t want to think about the searing pain, about the smoke that filled his vents, about Jetfires’s screams.

He searched for reassurance from his twin through their bond. Jetfire was there in an instant, comforting him with his presence.

Jetfire was safe. They were going to be ok. Screwed optics, frame replacements, Autobots, none of it mattered. Jetfire was there with him, and so they were going to be ok.

Primus let them be ok.

Chapter Text

They were alive. Somehow or other, they were both alive.

Jetfire wasn’t sure what he had expected when he shut down on the refinery floor. He wasn't really thinking much at all by that point, and his memory of the incident appeared to be partially corrupted anyways.

Whatever he expected, it was not this.

Primus, their frames had been replaced. Not repaired, replaced. They were flyers. The bots they had spent their lives watching from the ground as they flew over Vosian skys, the bots that destroyed their hometown when they sided with the Decepticons, they were one of them now.

Jetfire didn’t know what to think. He was alive, and so was Jetstorm, and that’s all that really mattered. But they were… different. Changed. The Jetstorm lying to his right still felt like Jetstorm, but he didn’t look like Jetstorm. The mech lying next to him was a flyer, with Decepticon coding running his frame.

Despite lying completely still, Jetfire felt like he was falling. The twins had just clocked into another shift at the refinery what felt like mere orns ago, and now… how did it all change so fast? It only took one cycle for their entire lives to be shaken up, and Jetfire had no control over it. He didn’t ask the energon smelter to explode. He didn’t ask to be so close to the blast. And as much as he appreciates being alive, he didn’t ask for a frame replacement. It’s not that he isn’t grateful, he is, it’s just…

It’s just all so much.

Outside of their twin spark, Jetfire and Jetstorm weren’t special. They weren't meant to be special. They were grounders, mechanics. Not wanting anything to do with the war, they fled Vos when it aligned itself with the Decepticons. Now, vorns later, seeker and Decepticon were practically synonyms. What had the Autobots done to them?

Well, they had saved them. That’s the catch, isn’t it. The twins were fundamentally changed, but they were alive. And well, Jetfire couldn’t find it in himself to be mad at the mechs who saved them. He was too tired to be mad anyways.

Aside from the existential slag, Jetfire was learning that having your frame replaced sucked. The scientists had been easing them off the painkillers, with Perceptor muttering something about ‘addiction’ and ‘harmful side effects’. Jetfire wasn’t sure what those side effects could be, but he found it hard to believe that they were worse than the pain that had seeped its way into his frame. It burrowed into his joints, never allowing him to fully relax. Perceptor claimed the pain would subside, but Jetfire was losing hope. Between the pain and the stress, the orange mech felt tense all the time.

Along with being tense, Jetfire was clumsy. Wheeljack and Perceptor mostly kept the twins on berthrest, but occasionally they were allowed to get up and move around, so that they could settle into their new frames. The first time the twins tried to stand had been disastrous. Jetstorm had fallen to the floor faceplate first. Under better circumstances, Jetfire would have died of laughter. Now, he could only hear Jetstorm’s screams from when he was lying on the burning floor of the refinery, energy pouring from his cracked faceplate.

Despite the utter failure of their first attempt, the twins (or Jettwins, as Wheeljack loved to call them), were encouraged to continue trying to move around. Jetfire tried to - he never liked being still for too long - but it had never been this fragging difficult to get his frame to do what he wanted. His processor had yet to catch up to all the changes, and as such didn’t know where in his frame to send all its signals. He kept trying to move parts of him that didn’t exist, and kept discovering new placements of old pieces. Jetfire never thought it possible to be a stranger in his own frame, but he also never thought he would be a flyer. He was tired, scared, and unable to move properly. It was… well it was fragging frustrating. He wanted nothing more than to go back to his life before the incident.

The Autobots wanted the twins to join them. Wheeljack and Perceptor had made it clear that that’s how they were able to get the resources for a frame replacement. They had also heavily emphasized that despite this, the twins had a choice in the matter. Even though they were literally built for the Autobots, they weren’t going to be forced to fight for them. Jetfire appreciated the choice. If it was a test, it was one he had no qualms failing. Yes, the Autobots had saved him and Jetstorm, but they were still the Autobots. They were still a part of the war, of which Jetfire wanted nothing to do with. The war had affected their lives enough already, thank you very much.

One of the first times they were left alone, Jetfire hobbled his way over to his twin’s berth and sat down next to him, where he proceeded to dump out all of his thoughts on the situation. The twins could tell how the other felt through their spark bond, but words were always more precise. When he was done explaining himself, Jetstorm had been uncharacteristically quiet.

<< I understand, brother, >> his twin started, << and if that is how you feel, I will gladly leave this place and never look back. But… >> he paused, << but I think we should consider their offer. >>

Jetfire began to interject, but his twin stopped him. << No, not just because they saved us, although that is a part of it… rather, what is it that we have to go back to? >>

<< Each other, >> Jetfire responded. << Sure, we didn’t have much, but we never needed much. >> His voice was growing louder with each word he spoke.

<< And we would still be together with the Autobots. I wouldn’t let them separate us. >>

<< But, but this is war, brother. The very war that drove us from our home in the first place! >>

<< Exactly! The Decepticons are the reason we had to leave Vos, the reason we were barely making it by in Iacon, the reason we had to work for afthole after afthole. And now we’ve been given a chance to do something about it. To fight those who fragged us over. >>

Their spark bond was flaring, despite efforts from both sides to keep it subdued.

Jetfire didn’t like the emotional conflict he found himself in. He hated arguing with his twin, but he also hated the war, and the pain it caused

<< I just don’t want to see you hurt, >> he said, much quieter now. << Seeing you lying on the floor of the refinery, e-energon pooling around you… I don’t, I don’t think- >> Jetfire cut himself off. Coolant was threatening to pour from his optics.

Jetstorm wrapped his arm around his brother’s shoulders, pulling his twin’s slumped frame closer. Their helms clunked together. Jetfire felt their spark bond fill with reassurance, along with Jetstorm’s steady confidence.

<< You really think I’d be letting the Decepticons hurt me? If Wheeljack and Perceptor are as impressive as they like to think they are, we’re able to fly. No one’s gonna be able to touch us. >>

Jetfire choked out a small laugh. << That’s another thing brother, are you ok with being a flyer? With having Starscream’s coding in us? >> He looked down at the floor, at his pedes that weren’t his pedes.

<< If it means I get to hurt the slagger responsible for handing Vos over to the Decepticons, then yeah. It’s gonna take a bit to get used to, but I’m ok with it. And besides, I saw the way you looked at them, you’d be lying if you said you were never jealous of the flyers. As for me, I’m itching for Wheeljack and Perceptor to give us the go ahead to transform. >>

There was a pause, which was filled only with a quiet sigh from the orange mech.

<< And hey, if we do join the Autobots, maybe we’ll finally have a nice boss. >> Jetstorm was hopeful they would. These were the Autobots after all, how bad could they be?

That earned an actual chuckle from his twin. << Yeah, maybe. >>

<< But… if you still don’t want to fight, I’m ok with that. I only want to do this if you want to as well. If not, we can go find another fragger with broken machines and shainix to spare. >>

<< … I’ll think about it. >>

Without even looking at him, Jetfire could feel his twin’s faceplate light up.

Time passed, and the orns turned into cycles. The twins got better at moving in their new frames, and check ups became less frequent. Jetstorm’s optics were yet to be fixed, but Wheeljack claimed to be working on a solution to that. Four cycles after the brothers first woke up in the lab, the white mech walked in carrying a box of some sort.

He walked in just in time. The window that overlooked the courtyard in front of the lab was open, and Jetstorm had one leg on either side of it. Jetfire was right next to him, egging him on.

“Mechs!” Wheeljack yelled out, nearly dropping the bobs he was holding. “What on Cybertron are you doing!?”

Jetfire and Jetstorm shared a look, before turning their attention to the mech at the door.

”It being an experiment,” Jetstorm said, leg dangling. “You say we are flyers, yes?”

”That’s, that’s a third story window!”

Jetfire squeezed past his brother and stuck his helm out the window. “Not too high seeming to me,” He said. He pulled his helm back in, smacking into Jetstorm as he did so. His twin was about to fall, but managed to stabilize himself with his servo and the wall. This earned a choked gasp from Wheeljack, who was still standing frozen at the door.

”And,” Jetfire went on, “flyers be not concerned over falling.”

Wheeljack didn’t want to be questioning both the intelligence and sanity of these hopefully Autobots-to-be, and yet here he was.

”We haven't asked you two to transform yet for a reason. You just learned to walk, at least wait a few cycles before you try flying. Fragging, you can’t even see properly! Now please, please, remove yourself from the window.” He said that last part as clearly as he could, so the Jettwins couldn’t even pretend not to understand him. When neither twin moved, he quickly added, “To this side too.”

Jetstorm looked out the window one more time, before swinging himself back inside the lab. Wheeljack swore he could hear him mumble something about being able to do it. That mech needed a processor replacement to match his frame replacement.

While his brother stumbled out of the window and into the lab, Jetfire made his way over to the stunned engineer.

”What is box?” he asked, reaching a servo out to grab it.

”Nuh uh, that’s not for you.” Wheeljack said as he pulled the box away. He lifted it over the orange twin’s helm and placed it on the workbench across from him.

”Hey Jetstorm!” the engineer called out over his shoulder, to the already approaching mech. Wheeljack winced as he walked right into a table he clearly couldn’t see. Jetfire was there in an instant, guiding his brother away from the various obstacles in the room.

”Yeah, we can’t have you running into things like that no more,” Wheeljack commented. He opened the box and pulled out a sleek piece of blue tinted glass. “This should help with that.”

With the help of his twin, Jetstorm made his way over.

“What is it?” he asked.

”This my mech, is your new visor. It’s gonna fix your glitched vision.”

The engineer only got blank stares from the Jettwins as a response. There’s no way these mechs have never seen a visor before, is there? … Oh wait. Maybe they’ve just never heard it be called a visor before.

”It goes over your optics,” he continued, holding it over his own optics to demonstrate. “It’ll plug into your helm and act as replacement optics. You oughta thank Jazz, the work I did making his visor taught me what I needed to know to make this one.“

There was the look of excitement Wheeljack was expecting.

”I be seeing again?” Jetstorm asked, hope seeping into his vocoder.

”Slag yeah,” Wheeljack said, and then added, mostly to himself, “I mean, I could have done a lot more than just restoring sight, but Percy kept going on about ‘adjustment periods’ and ‘safety concerns’.” The engineer was capable of designing things that didn’t blow up, despite what Percy believed. ”Cmon mech, let's get this on that faceplate of yours.”

Wheeljack led Jetstorm over to one of the medical berths situated in the room, being closely followed by Jetfire. The blue twin began to lie down before Wheeljack interrupted him.

”No need for that, the application’s actually rather simple.”

The engineer received another blank stare. Rather than try to explain what he said, he simply pushed on Jetstorm’s backplate, which was in an awkward half lean. These mechs would almost certainly need lessons in Iconian if they were to join the Autobots.

Once the blue twin was sitting up, Wheeljack got to work on the rather short procedure. He explained as he went, on the off chance Jetstorm could follow along. Jetfire kept quipping to his twin in Vosian. Once he was done, Wheeljack backed up, letting the other twin see his work.

Jetfire switched back to Iconian. “Now your faceplate being even uglier,” he said.

”Don’t let Jazz know you said that,” Wheeljack muttered.

Jetstorm didn’t say anything. He just kept swiveling his helm around, testing out his new visor.

”Any thoughts mech?”

Said mech responded by extending a small laugh. “Thank you,” he said.

”I figured you would like it.”

There was a pause, not a tense one, just peaceful, as Jetstorm appreciated his restored sight. Slag what Jetfire said, Wheeljack found the visor suited the mech.

Finally, Wheeljack broke the silence. ”Now, you two, there’s someone who wants to meet you.”