Best Laid Plans, Chapter Two
Title: Best Laid Plans
Series: Pre-ROTF
Rating: T
Summary: Demolisher arrives on Earth too late, and Sideways brings with him more trouble than he's worth.
Southern Kazakhstan
It took them just under two months to get as far as they had, waylaid by every complication ranging from border patrols to Autobot scares. It didn't help that they could only travel during the daylight hours, made worse by Sideways' odd nightly behavior. Demolisher could see that whatever he claimed was killing him happened during the night cycle, causing him undue stress and pain. Every night Demolisher left the comm channel between them open in case the Mercedes decided to share his troubles. He never did, and Demolisher never asked.
The Constructicon had made plans to move eastwards through Russia, but diverted them towards the equator for Sideways' sake. Neither of them liked the climate any better, but it put them closer to the sun, which did wonders for the Mercedes. Despite faring better in the daytime, he still suffered once the sun had disappeared over the horizon.
Demolisher kept in infrequent contact with Barricade, who was constantly less than thrilled to hear from him. He was even less excited to hear that Sideways was there, but the Constructicon never told him anything was wrong. Neither of them had heard anything from Cybertron, and despite never saying it, Demolisher knew it bothered the hunter as much as it did him. With the Autobot leader and last remaining Prime apparently staking claim on this world, things were bound to heat up here once again.
Coming dangerously close to the border of Uzbekistan, Demolisher's hunch of more remaining Decepticons finally proved correct. He was not surprised the drone had managed to track them even while they hid from Autobots, as its master had once been called Megatron's Hound. Scorponok had come all the way from Qatar to intercept them, though it greeted them with little fanfare, and even less enthusiasm than Barricade. It was not emotional to begin with, but Demolisher always remembered the drone has having a bit more spunk.
Overall, it was healthy, only missing the stinger of its tail. That had clearly been blown off, and it was having a difficult time healing. Scorponok gladly accepted Demolisher's invitation to jack into his fuel cells for pure Energon, and not just what it could siphon from petrol reserves or solar panels. The three of them loitered about in broad daylight, far removed from the nearest village, even farther from the closest military base. Scorponok draped itself over Demolisher's cab, completely limp as the Constructicon fueled it, and as Sideways made small repairs on its armor.
“This was Blackout's drone, wasn't it?” Sideways asked, attempting to reseal a crack on one of the scorpion's legs. It kept jerking it out of his hand, annoyed by the fussing and the pain it knew the resealing would cause. At the mention of Blackout's name, it cycled air through its vents, blowing sand in Sideways' face.
“Yeah,” Demolisher said, even though Sideways had gotten his answer rather rudely. Shaking his head to clear out the grit, the Mercedes went back to trying to force the drone's leg to cooperate. “We should probably take it with us. We might have to track back north and cross the Bering Strait to reach North America. Barricade will probably want to take Scorponok.”
There was a loud metallic thunk as Scorponok's tail connected with Sideways' head, irritated at the meddling and at being talked about. The Mercedes recoiled with a yelp, nearly falling off of where he was perched on Demolisher's cab.
“Definitely Blackout's drone,” Sideways muttered, rubbing the spot where the tail had struck him. Scorponok responded with another huff, before going limp again, letting out a small whine. “What's it being so moody for?”
“What do you think?” Demolisher growled, lifting and dropping his shovel in agitation. “I imagine Blackout had Scorponok well before you were even brought online.”
“Oh,” Sideways said, looking at the scorpion with new-found pity. Scorponok only growled, shifting itself so it wasn't facing the silver 'Con any more. Knowing that, he decided it was definitely depressed. Otherwise it probably would have sliced his head off instead of only whacking him.
“I've been trying to get a hold of Barricade to let him know, but he's ignoring me as usual,” Demolisher grumbled. He knew Scorponok was merely tolerating them because they were Decepticons. The scorpion would probably trust Barricade more since Blackout had actually liked the hunter. Well, liked him so much as any Decepticon was capable of doing, putting potential allies somewhere near the bottom of their shoot-in-the-back list.
“If you haven't figured it out by now, I'm ignoring you because I don't want to talk to you.”
The sound of Barricade's voice coming out of the drone was shock enough for Sideways to actually fall off of Demolisher this time.
“What a surprise,” Demolisher said out loud, ignoring the pained yelp from the Mercedes. “You'll answer the drone faster than you'll answer me.”
“I told Scorponok to meet you and get some repairs, considering it won't come to me and I can't go to it. Don't try to take it with you; it's hell bent on staying in Egypt.”
“Egypt?” Sideways' voice drifted up from the dust cloud he'd created from hitting the ground.
“It says it's got something important to do there. I have no idea, but it will be fine on it's own,” Barricade said, at which Scorponok nodded its head once before going limp again. There was a pause, before Barricade asked: “Is it badly injured?”
“Nothing major,” Demolisher replied. “It obviously lost its stinger at some point, but that's growing back. Otherwise it's just sulking.”
Barricade muttered something mostly unintelligible, though Demolisher thought he sounded like he was considering coming to retrieve the drone. When he spoke again, his tone was back to neutral. “Let it go back to Egypt. I'll deal with it later.”
“Are there any other drones on Earth that you forgot to mention to me?” Demolisher asked. Barricade was silent, so the Constructicon tried to prod him into answering. “Wasn't Fren-”
“He's dead,” Barricade said sharply, and Sideways winced when Scorponok's radio cut off with a squawk of feedback.
“Great,” Demolisher griped. “Now he won't speak to us again for six months.”
After parting ways with Scorponok, the Decepticon pair fell back into their usual routine. They stayed as close to the border as they dared, following it up through to Mongolia and aiming for northern China. Weeks stretched into months and their progress was slow as usual, with Sideways spending more time absorbing solar energy than doing anything else. Demolisher continued to turn a blind optic to his nightly wailing, letting him keep his secret so long as it wasn't threatening them both.
Their schedule never faltered: Sideways would be at Demolisher's side the moment sun peaked over the horizon, even on mornings when it was hidden behind clouds. From there, they would plot their course, sometimes taking shortcuts or longer routes depending on their mood. If they were bored enough, they would linger in areas with strong Wi-Fi connections, downloading music, movies, books and graphic novels to entertain themselves. Sideways liked those days best, but more often than not Demolisher kept them moving. By the time dusk arrived, Sideways was nowhere to be seen, and Demolisher waited for the night the Mercedes would finally give up his secret.
While Earth was interesting, the Constructicon did not pretend to understand half of what the humans did. Last month, most of the so-called 'western' world celebrated the new year, and the Asian communities they were passing through had only just begun to prepare for their own festivities. Demolisher found it odd that the sometimes opposing cultures calculated dates so differently from one another. 2008 had come and gone in North America, while Islamic communities had just brought in the year 1430. He supposed with a bit more research he might understand the oddities, but that was what Sideways was for.
The Mercedes didn't always talk his audial receptors off, but once he had realized Demolisher did not intend to run him over, he had become much more animated. The excavator assumed he was hyper because he soaked in so much solar energy, even if it did suddenly deplete itself overnight. The silver 'Con never talked about himself, steering their (mostly one-sided) conversations to human topics. Through those conversations, Demolisher learned more about Earth than he would have ever wanted. There was no escaping it either, since Sideways' systems couldn't sync with the Wi-Fi, so Demolisher had to look up and download everything for the both of them. There were few disagreements between them, mostly stemming from different tastes. While Demolisher took to classic Westerns and the likes of Johnny Cash, Sideways was partial to horror films and loud alternative rock.
There had not been repeat case of their first morning together. Demolisher's hand had healed quickly, as had the minimal damage he'd inflicted upon Sideways. The excavator had begun to feel comfortable with his routine on Earth, despite feeling like Barricade was stringing him along for no reason. He had received another brief message from Scrapper consisting of two words: orders pending. That was not the sort of language the Constructicon leader used, so someone else was orchestrating things of Cybertron by now. Of course, just as things felt controlled and predictable on Earth, a deviation finally occurred in their schedule.
One morning, not long after crossing the border into China, Sideways failed to return in his usual prompt, timely manner. Demolisher was not in a hurry, and gave the Mercedes an extra hour in case he required more time to recharge. The silver 'Con was just inside of his scanner range, so it wasn't as though he'd finally decided to run off after all. Knowing he would ignore the open radio link, Demolisher started off down the road, mildly irritated at his tardiness. When Sideways' once strong signal started to fade almost to nothing, Demolisher put on greater speed, more than a little curious at this point.
It didn't take long to find him; Sideways was spread out on the ground in his root mode in the middle of the field. One of his arms was curled around his chest, his frame shaking and jerking in short, pained bursts. Certain no human was nearby, Demolisher transformed, wanting to get a better look at the small silver 'Con. Clearly, whatever had been causing him pain before had become a serious problem. A quick surface scan told him told him almost exactly what he'd suspected: his Energon supply had dropped to near fatal levels, causing most of his normal vitals to plummet as well.
It still seemed impossible, though, considering the amount of energy the little 'Con pulled in from the sun on a daily basis. There were no leaks, nor was he lying a puddle of the vital fluid. How had Sideways lost all of his Energon over the course of a single night? Reaching out with one massive hand, he nudged the Mercedes with a large finger. It moved his frame, but Sideways barely reacted, his limbs locked up in what the humans would have called rigor mortis. In fact, the only indication Demolisher had that Sideways was still halfway alive and aware was the look of pure, absolute terror on his face.
His fear was not unfounded, considering he was dying. Demolisher did not regret doubting him before, but this was the first sign he'd seen of something truly fatal to the Mercedes. He knew Sideways' fear was twofold: not only was he helpless and dying, but he probably assumed the Constructicon would terminate him. Demolisher could at least give him a swift death, far better than the alternative of painful starvation. Honestly, it would be pragmatic and efficient to euthanize the silver 'Con so as to not prolong his suffering, and also to prevent him from being a drain on the Constructicon. All Demolisher had to do was figure out if he could be saved or cured without putting himself at risk.
It was not compassion that moved him to help the Mercedes. The Constructicon hardly thought of himself as an empathic, caring unit, as he was more geared towards demolitions and destruction. Still, Demolisher had the peculiar habit of sheltering smaller Decepticons, from the smallest drone to those even larger than Sideways. Charity cases, Scrapper called them, as he shook his head, not understanding his comrade's mother hen tendencies. Not that Scrapper knew what a hen was, but Demolisher thought the crude description would work.
Despite the constant power struggles that occurred in their faction, the Constructicon did not see most of his teammates as competition. Sideways hardly registered as a threat to the massive 'Con, so eliminating him would earn him no gain. Rampage and Long Haul might be of the opinion that only the strongest, the largest survived, but Demolisher found that logic entirely lacking. Their war had started ages ago, and here before him was a surviving 'Con barely a quarter his size. Even cowards like Sideways and liars like Barricade continued to thrive among their ranks, more necessary than some would give them credit.
Demolisher weighed his options, debating over how exactly he was going to help the silver sports car. Sideways was entirely powerless, and it would be easy for him to accidentally damage the Mercedes with his large hands. Sideways whined as Demolisher brought his fingers up against his chassis, trying to pry his stiff arm out of the way. Somehow, he managed to move it without snapping anything important, and simply pressed one finger against Sideways' chest. His hands were far too large to find the clasps on his armor, so he hoped the Mercedes had the energy, and the smarts, to open up for him.
With a low grinding sound, the armor did part, helped along by Demolisher's hooked finger as soon as he could catch the edge of it. What he needed was just below the small mech's spark chamber: his main fuel supply jack. Making another quick check for human presence, he threw one wheel up behind him, hovering over the small 'Con. His large fingers fumbled with his own fuel line, which was still accessible from when Scorponok had used it. Sideways let out a very small squeak once they were connected, but he did not know if it was out of pain or something else.
All he felt from the Mercedes was a hungry pull, but Demolisher monitored the Energon flow to keep him from making himself sick. Slowly, Sideways' limbs began to loosen as vital fluid, coolant and Energon coursed through his lines, frame beginning to relax. The sporadic shaking and jerking slowly subsided until Sideways was completely limp, optics unfocused as his strained systems forced him into a semi-recharge state. Demolisher slowed the Energon to a mere drip, uncertain as to why Sideway's body continued to demand more when his tanks were full.
The sun climbed higher into the sky, and Demolisher passed the time by checking for humans and scanning for Autobots. Some time after noon, the Constructicon disconnected their fuel lines, watching the Energon levels carefully. Less than twenty minutes went by before they began to fluctuate, and in just under an hour Demolisher had to reconnect them as his energy supply crashed. The silver 'Con remained almost entirely out of it, the groans of pain stopping only once he was being fueled. Demolisher did not give him a full dose of Energon this time, instead keeping it at the level required to maintain basic life support.
It was well into the afternoon before Sideways had the strength to speak. A few hours ago he had managed to curl himself around Demolisher's wheel, that small action practically winding him.
“I lied,” Sideways said weakly, red optics looking up into yellow optics with a detached sense of fear and apprehension. Demolisher waited for an explanation, not knowing how much the Mercedes was going to be able to talk. “I came here looking for Ratchet.”
“The Autobot medic?” Demolisher asked, getting a small nod from Sideways. The silver sports dropped his head back to the ground, either too tired to keep it up or unwilling to look at the excavator.
“Nearest medic,” Sideways said, idly picking dirt out of Demolisher's treads. That was one of the reasons the excavator enjoyed the presence of smaller units; they could perform simple tasks like that for him in exchange for protection from enemy fire. Demolisher was not very demanding when it came to business exchanges. “I can't keep Energon. It just... drains out of me.”
“I've noticed. It has to be going somewhere, though,” Demolisher said, running more surface scans as he spoke. He was barely even trained for field repairs, so he was not surprised when he couldn't find an explanation towards Sideways' situation. If the Energon was being reabsorbed into his body, why couldn't he detect that source? It would have to be brimming with the stuff by now. “When did this start?”
“A while ago. A few months before I arrived here,” said the Mercedes, working on cleaning out the next tread. Despite getting great chunks of dirt out, the motion still felt like little more than a passing breeze to the Constructicon. The sensors on his wheels were not that sensitive, but he knew Sideways was beyond weak right now. “Ratchet was the nearest medic, so I contacted him.”
“He knew you were coming?” Demolisher asked, getting another nod from Sideways. The Mercedes shifted his frame somewhat, but did not move away from where he was comfortably wrapped around the Constructicon. There was not much fear in him now, despite the fact that Demolisher could kill him by simply rolling forward. “You know, you could have told me that.”
“I told you I was dying,” Sideways tried to defend himself, but the Constructicon only snorted.
“You didn't make a very good case for yourself,” the excavator said, before shifting back to the matter at hand. A minor glitch that inconvenienced him for eight to ten hours was hardly life threatening, or so he had thought. “Why did this only happen at night?”
He felt Sideways shrug his shoulders, before getting a verbal answer. Apparently the mud was really caked in, because he was still scraping at the same tread. “As long as I'm constantly pulling energy in, it doesn't hurt. As soon as there's no energy source, it gets bad.”
“And then your Energon levels deplete to nothing,” Demolisher said, more to himself than to Sideways. The Mercedes was not bleeding, and had not shed a drop of Energon since he'd run into him, so where was it going? Something in his body would have to be siphoning it, but not even his reserve tanks were overfilling. “And what hurts?”
“Everything,” Sideways replied, pausing before he clarified his statement. “At first just my chest. It sort of spreads from there. Right now I just feel... sore.”
“You nearly starved to death in just under ten hours,” Demolisher said, running one finger down Sideways' back. The way that made the Mercedes cling tighter to wheel and shiver told him not to do it again. “I'm sure there are plenty of unpleasant side effects for that.”
Sideways seemed to have finally lost the strength the speak, or had drifted into another recharge cycle. Demolisher watched the sun sink closer to the horizon, hoping the Mercedes would be fit to move soon. He wasn't entirely convinced this area would remain unoccupied forever. As soon as the light barely began to face, Demolisher roused the dozing 'Con by nudging his head with one finger. The Mercedes made a noncommittal sound, which meant he was awake.
“Can you transform?” Demolisher asked, quietly unhooking his fuel line from the other 'Con. He would not have much time before his energy level began to crash, but the Constructicon wanted them somewhere secluded.
“I'll try,” Sideways said groggily, managing to push himself upright. Demolisher backed away a few feet, giving the Mercedes room to shift forms. Sideways barely even started the sequence before figuring out that he couldn't transform, and the attempt only caused another flare up of pain. Howling in agony, the Mercedes wrapped his arms around his chest, writhing on the ground. Caught off guard by the suddenness of his plight, Demolisher simply stared at him, wondering if it would pass. There was a good chance, however, that waiting it out would prove fatal.
New wires were pulled out of Demolisher's chassis along with the fuel line, and the Constructicon had to hold him flat to connect them a second time. He bypassed Sideways' firewalls with ease, bringing up an old subroutine that would sync their systems. He began uploading the necessary data to the Mercedes, rewriting lines of code as multiple errors told him he was doing everything wrong. Hacking was not exactly his forte, but he was only trying to get their programs to recognize one another.
“Sideways. Sideways. Listen to me,” Demolisher said loudly, ensuring the data feed went only one way to prevent a negative backlash of pain into himself. Below him, the Mercedes pawed at the new wires, lacking the strength to pull them loose or damage them. They were foreign to his body, and telling him things that they had no right to be telling him. His vents were over cycling, inhaling and expelling air in a manner the reminded Demolisher of watching a human suffer an asthma attack. “You need to shed your alt mode. I'm going to host you, do you understand?”
Sideways could hardly nod, let alone speak, but the silver 'Con began disconnecting sections of his armor. Minding the wires and tubes that connected them, Demolisher helped strip the superfluous protrusions that made up his alt mode. It took less than ten minutes before Sideways was a bare protoform once again, which was exactly what the Constructicon wanted. Despite being even more exposed and vulnerable, the excavator picked him up carefully, sending commands through their temporary link up.
The programs were incomplete, as Sideways was not a true symbiote and thus did not possess the complimentary software. Both of them were hardwired to be hosts, but Demolisher would work around the conflicting code long enough to get Sideways stable. In his current state, the silver mech was far more open to suggestion, and did not resist anything Demolisher asked of him. He immediately obeyed the command to fold up into the Constructicon's chassis, transforming with him as he shifted to his alt mode.
Having never carried a drone of any kind before, Demolisher found it vaguely unsettling to feel his insides rearranging themselves to accept the new passenger. Completely ensconced within the mining vehicle, Sideways was likely in the safest place he'd ever been since the war had started. The pain had started to dull, but Demolisher continued to send him commands to recharge and remain silent. Despite the disorienting merge, Sideways complied, and the excavator felt confident they could travel.
Dusk surrounded them now, and Demolisher started off down the road, for once able to move after dark. He was already sending another message through the satellites, though this one bore a different encryption. It wasn't often he had to communicate across enemy lines, but medics frequently used neutral channels. If Sideways had been in contact with him prior to arriving on Earth, there was a good chance the Autobot would be more willing to answer his call. Now, the only evidence of Sideways' existence was the Mercedes skeleton left in the middle of the road, as though some great monster had cracked him out his shell and devoured him whole.
Demolisher supposed that wasn't too far from the truth, except this monster had a medic to find, and fast.
Series: Pre-ROTF
Rating: T
Summary: Demolisher arrives on Earth too late, and Sideways brings with him more trouble than he's worth.
Southern Kazakhstan
It took them just under two months to get as far as they had, waylaid by every complication ranging from border patrols to Autobot scares. It didn't help that they could only travel during the daylight hours, made worse by Sideways' odd nightly behavior. Demolisher could see that whatever he claimed was killing him happened during the night cycle, causing him undue stress and pain. Every night Demolisher left the comm channel between them open in case the Mercedes decided to share his troubles. He never did, and Demolisher never asked.
The Constructicon had made plans to move eastwards through Russia, but diverted them towards the equator for Sideways' sake. Neither of them liked the climate any better, but it put them closer to the sun, which did wonders for the Mercedes. Despite faring better in the daytime, he still suffered once the sun had disappeared over the horizon.
Demolisher kept in infrequent contact with Barricade, who was constantly less than thrilled to hear from him. He was even less excited to hear that Sideways was there, but the Constructicon never told him anything was wrong. Neither of them had heard anything from Cybertron, and despite never saying it, Demolisher knew it bothered the hunter as much as it did him. With the Autobot leader and last remaining Prime apparently staking claim on this world, things were bound to heat up here once again.
Coming dangerously close to the border of Uzbekistan, Demolisher's hunch of more remaining Decepticons finally proved correct. He was not surprised the drone had managed to track them even while they hid from Autobots, as its master had once been called Megatron's Hound. Scorponok had come all the way from Qatar to intercept them, though it greeted them with little fanfare, and even less enthusiasm than Barricade. It was not emotional to begin with, but Demolisher always remembered the drone has having a bit more spunk.
Overall, it was healthy, only missing the stinger of its tail. That had clearly been blown off, and it was having a difficult time healing. Scorponok gladly accepted Demolisher's invitation to jack into his fuel cells for pure Energon, and not just what it could siphon from petrol reserves or solar panels. The three of them loitered about in broad daylight, far removed from the nearest village, even farther from the closest military base. Scorponok draped itself over Demolisher's cab, completely limp as the Constructicon fueled it, and as Sideways made small repairs on its armor.
“This was Blackout's drone, wasn't it?” Sideways asked, attempting to reseal a crack on one of the scorpion's legs. It kept jerking it out of his hand, annoyed by the fussing and the pain it knew the resealing would cause. At the mention of Blackout's name, it cycled air through its vents, blowing sand in Sideways' face.
“Yeah,” Demolisher said, even though Sideways had gotten his answer rather rudely. Shaking his head to clear out the grit, the Mercedes went back to trying to force the drone's leg to cooperate. “We should probably take it with us. We might have to track back north and cross the Bering Strait to reach North America. Barricade will probably want to take Scorponok.”
There was a loud metallic thunk as Scorponok's tail connected with Sideways' head, irritated at the meddling and at being talked about. The Mercedes recoiled with a yelp, nearly falling off of where he was perched on Demolisher's cab.
“Definitely Blackout's drone,” Sideways muttered, rubbing the spot where the tail had struck him. Scorponok responded with another huff, before going limp again, letting out a small whine. “What's it being so moody for?”
“What do you think?” Demolisher growled, lifting and dropping his shovel in agitation. “I imagine Blackout had Scorponok well before you were even brought online.”
“Oh,” Sideways said, looking at the scorpion with new-found pity. Scorponok only growled, shifting itself so it wasn't facing the silver 'Con any more. Knowing that, he decided it was definitely depressed. Otherwise it probably would have sliced his head off instead of only whacking him.
“I've been trying to get a hold of Barricade to let him know, but he's ignoring me as usual,” Demolisher grumbled. He knew Scorponok was merely tolerating them because they were Decepticons. The scorpion would probably trust Barricade more since Blackout had actually liked the hunter. Well, liked him so much as any Decepticon was capable of doing, putting potential allies somewhere near the bottom of their shoot-in-the-back list.
“If you haven't figured it out by now, I'm ignoring you because I don't want to talk to you.”
The sound of Barricade's voice coming out of the drone was shock enough for Sideways to actually fall off of Demolisher this time.
“What a surprise,” Demolisher said out loud, ignoring the pained yelp from the Mercedes. “You'll answer the drone faster than you'll answer me.”
“I told Scorponok to meet you and get some repairs, considering it won't come to me and I can't go to it. Don't try to take it with you; it's hell bent on staying in Egypt.”
“Egypt?” Sideways' voice drifted up from the dust cloud he'd created from hitting the ground.
“It says it's got something important to do there. I have no idea, but it will be fine on it's own,” Barricade said, at which Scorponok nodded its head once before going limp again. There was a pause, before Barricade asked: “Is it badly injured?”
“Nothing major,” Demolisher replied. “It obviously lost its stinger at some point, but that's growing back. Otherwise it's just sulking.”
Barricade muttered something mostly unintelligible, though Demolisher thought he sounded like he was considering coming to retrieve the drone. When he spoke again, his tone was back to neutral. “Let it go back to Egypt. I'll deal with it later.”
“Are there any other drones on Earth that you forgot to mention to me?” Demolisher asked. Barricade was silent, so the Constructicon tried to prod him into answering. “Wasn't Fren-”
“He's dead,” Barricade said sharply, and Sideways winced when Scorponok's radio cut off with a squawk of feedback.
“Great,” Demolisher griped. “Now he won't speak to us again for six months.”
After parting ways with Scorponok, the Decepticon pair fell back into their usual routine. They stayed as close to the border as they dared, following it up through to Mongolia and aiming for northern China. Weeks stretched into months and their progress was slow as usual, with Sideways spending more time absorbing solar energy than doing anything else. Demolisher continued to turn a blind optic to his nightly wailing, letting him keep his secret so long as it wasn't threatening them both.
Their schedule never faltered: Sideways would be at Demolisher's side the moment sun peaked over the horizon, even on mornings when it was hidden behind clouds. From there, they would plot their course, sometimes taking shortcuts or longer routes depending on their mood. If they were bored enough, they would linger in areas with strong Wi-Fi connections, downloading music, movies, books and graphic novels to entertain themselves. Sideways liked those days best, but more often than not Demolisher kept them moving. By the time dusk arrived, Sideways was nowhere to be seen, and Demolisher waited for the night the Mercedes would finally give up his secret.
While Earth was interesting, the Constructicon did not pretend to understand half of what the humans did. Last month, most of the so-called 'western' world celebrated the new year, and the Asian communities they were passing through had only just begun to prepare for their own festivities. Demolisher found it odd that the sometimes opposing cultures calculated dates so differently from one another. 2008 had come and gone in North America, while Islamic communities had just brought in the year 1430. He supposed with a bit more research he might understand the oddities, but that was what Sideways was for.
The Mercedes didn't always talk his audial receptors off, but once he had realized Demolisher did not intend to run him over, he had become much more animated. The excavator assumed he was hyper because he soaked in so much solar energy, even if it did suddenly deplete itself overnight. The silver 'Con never talked about himself, steering their (mostly one-sided) conversations to human topics. Through those conversations, Demolisher learned more about Earth than he would have ever wanted. There was no escaping it either, since Sideways' systems couldn't sync with the Wi-Fi, so Demolisher had to look up and download everything for the both of them. There were few disagreements between them, mostly stemming from different tastes. While Demolisher took to classic Westerns and the likes of Johnny Cash, Sideways was partial to horror films and loud alternative rock.
There had not been repeat case of their first morning together. Demolisher's hand had healed quickly, as had the minimal damage he'd inflicted upon Sideways. The excavator had begun to feel comfortable with his routine on Earth, despite feeling like Barricade was stringing him along for no reason. He had received another brief message from Scrapper consisting of two words: orders pending. That was not the sort of language the Constructicon leader used, so someone else was orchestrating things of Cybertron by now. Of course, just as things felt controlled and predictable on Earth, a deviation finally occurred in their schedule.
One morning, not long after crossing the border into China, Sideways failed to return in his usual prompt, timely manner. Demolisher was not in a hurry, and gave the Mercedes an extra hour in case he required more time to recharge. The silver 'Con was just inside of his scanner range, so it wasn't as though he'd finally decided to run off after all. Knowing he would ignore the open radio link, Demolisher started off down the road, mildly irritated at his tardiness. When Sideways' once strong signal started to fade almost to nothing, Demolisher put on greater speed, more than a little curious at this point.
It didn't take long to find him; Sideways was spread out on the ground in his root mode in the middle of the field. One of his arms was curled around his chest, his frame shaking and jerking in short, pained bursts. Certain no human was nearby, Demolisher transformed, wanting to get a better look at the small silver 'Con. Clearly, whatever had been causing him pain before had become a serious problem. A quick surface scan told him told him almost exactly what he'd suspected: his Energon supply had dropped to near fatal levels, causing most of his normal vitals to plummet as well.
It still seemed impossible, though, considering the amount of energy the little 'Con pulled in from the sun on a daily basis. There were no leaks, nor was he lying a puddle of the vital fluid. How had Sideways lost all of his Energon over the course of a single night? Reaching out with one massive hand, he nudged the Mercedes with a large finger. It moved his frame, but Sideways barely reacted, his limbs locked up in what the humans would have called rigor mortis. In fact, the only indication Demolisher had that Sideways was still halfway alive and aware was the look of pure, absolute terror on his face.
His fear was not unfounded, considering he was dying. Demolisher did not regret doubting him before, but this was the first sign he'd seen of something truly fatal to the Mercedes. He knew Sideways' fear was twofold: not only was he helpless and dying, but he probably assumed the Constructicon would terminate him. Demolisher could at least give him a swift death, far better than the alternative of painful starvation. Honestly, it would be pragmatic and efficient to euthanize the silver 'Con so as to not prolong his suffering, and also to prevent him from being a drain on the Constructicon. All Demolisher had to do was figure out if he could be saved or cured without putting himself at risk.
It was not compassion that moved him to help the Mercedes. The Constructicon hardly thought of himself as an empathic, caring unit, as he was more geared towards demolitions and destruction. Still, Demolisher had the peculiar habit of sheltering smaller Decepticons, from the smallest drone to those even larger than Sideways. Charity cases, Scrapper called them, as he shook his head, not understanding his comrade's mother hen tendencies. Not that Scrapper knew what a hen was, but Demolisher thought the crude description would work.
Despite the constant power struggles that occurred in their faction, the Constructicon did not see most of his teammates as competition. Sideways hardly registered as a threat to the massive 'Con, so eliminating him would earn him no gain. Rampage and Long Haul might be of the opinion that only the strongest, the largest survived, but Demolisher found that logic entirely lacking. Their war had started ages ago, and here before him was a surviving 'Con barely a quarter his size. Even cowards like Sideways and liars like Barricade continued to thrive among their ranks, more necessary than some would give them credit.
Demolisher weighed his options, debating over how exactly he was going to help the silver sports car. Sideways was entirely powerless, and it would be easy for him to accidentally damage the Mercedes with his large hands. Sideways whined as Demolisher brought his fingers up against his chassis, trying to pry his stiff arm out of the way. Somehow, he managed to move it without snapping anything important, and simply pressed one finger against Sideways' chest. His hands were far too large to find the clasps on his armor, so he hoped the Mercedes had the energy, and the smarts, to open up for him.
With a low grinding sound, the armor did part, helped along by Demolisher's hooked finger as soon as he could catch the edge of it. What he needed was just below the small mech's spark chamber: his main fuel supply jack. Making another quick check for human presence, he threw one wheel up behind him, hovering over the small 'Con. His large fingers fumbled with his own fuel line, which was still accessible from when Scorponok had used it. Sideways let out a very small squeak once they were connected, but he did not know if it was out of pain or something else.
All he felt from the Mercedes was a hungry pull, but Demolisher monitored the Energon flow to keep him from making himself sick. Slowly, Sideways' limbs began to loosen as vital fluid, coolant and Energon coursed through his lines, frame beginning to relax. The sporadic shaking and jerking slowly subsided until Sideways was completely limp, optics unfocused as his strained systems forced him into a semi-recharge state. Demolisher slowed the Energon to a mere drip, uncertain as to why Sideway's body continued to demand more when his tanks were full.
The sun climbed higher into the sky, and Demolisher passed the time by checking for humans and scanning for Autobots. Some time after noon, the Constructicon disconnected their fuel lines, watching the Energon levels carefully. Less than twenty minutes went by before they began to fluctuate, and in just under an hour Demolisher had to reconnect them as his energy supply crashed. The silver 'Con remained almost entirely out of it, the groans of pain stopping only once he was being fueled. Demolisher did not give him a full dose of Energon this time, instead keeping it at the level required to maintain basic life support.
It was well into the afternoon before Sideways had the strength to speak. A few hours ago he had managed to curl himself around Demolisher's wheel, that small action practically winding him.
“I lied,” Sideways said weakly, red optics looking up into yellow optics with a detached sense of fear and apprehension. Demolisher waited for an explanation, not knowing how much the Mercedes was going to be able to talk. “I came here looking for Ratchet.”
“The Autobot medic?” Demolisher asked, getting a small nod from Sideways. The silver sports dropped his head back to the ground, either too tired to keep it up or unwilling to look at the excavator.
“Nearest medic,” Sideways said, idly picking dirt out of Demolisher's treads. That was one of the reasons the excavator enjoyed the presence of smaller units; they could perform simple tasks like that for him in exchange for protection from enemy fire. Demolisher was not very demanding when it came to business exchanges. “I can't keep Energon. It just... drains out of me.”
“I've noticed. It has to be going somewhere, though,” Demolisher said, running more surface scans as he spoke. He was barely even trained for field repairs, so he was not surprised when he couldn't find an explanation towards Sideways' situation. If the Energon was being reabsorbed into his body, why couldn't he detect that source? It would have to be brimming with the stuff by now. “When did this start?”
“A while ago. A few months before I arrived here,” said the Mercedes, working on cleaning out the next tread. Despite getting great chunks of dirt out, the motion still felt like little more than a passing breeze to the Constructicon. The sensors on his wheels were not that sensitive, but he knew Sideways was beyond weak right now. “Ratchet was the nearest medic, so I contacted him.”
“He knew you were coming?” Demolisher asked, getting another nod from Sideways. The Mercedes shifted his frame somewhat, but did not move away from where he was comfortably wrapped around the Constructicon. There was not much fear in him now, despite the fact that Demolisher could kill him by simply rolling forward. “You know, you could have told me that.”
“I told you I was dying,” Sideways tried to defend himself, but the Constructicon only snorted.
“You didn't make a very good case for yourself,” the excavator said, before shifting back to the matter at hand. A minor glitch that inconvenienced him for eight to ten hours was hardly life threatening, or so he had thought. “Why did this only happen at night?”
He felt Sideways shrug his shoulders, before getting a verbal answer. Apparently the mud was really caked in, because he was still scraping at the same tread. “As long as I'm constantly pulling energy in, it doesn't hurt. As soon as there's no energy source, it gets bad.”
“And then your Energon levels deplete to nothing,” Demolisher said, more to himself than to Sideways. The Mercedes was not bleeding, and had not shed a drop of Energon since he'd run into him, so where was it going? Something in his body would have to be siphoning it, but not even his reserve tanks were overfilling. “And what hurts?”
“Everything,” Sideways replied, pausing before he clarified his statement. “At first just my chest. It sort of spreads from there. Right now I just feel... sore.”
“You nearly starved to death in just under ten hours,” Demolisher said, running one finger down Sideways' back. The way that made the Mercedes cling tighter to wheel and shiver told him not to do it again. “I'm sure there are plenty of unpleasant side effects for that.”
Sideways seemed to have finally lost the strength the speak, or had drifted into another recharge cycle. Demolisher watched the sun sink closer to the horizon, hoping the Mercedes would be fit to move soon. He wasn't entirely convinced this area would remain unoccupied forever. As soon as the light barely began to face, Demolisher roused the dozing 'Con by nudging his head with one finger. The Mercedes made a noncommittal sound, which meant he was awake.
“Can you transform?” Demolisher asked, quietly unhooking his fuel line from the other 'Con. He would not have much time before his energy level began to crash, but the Constructicon wanted them somewhere secluded.
“I'll try,” Sideways said groggily, managing to push himself upright. Demolisher backed away a few feet, giving the Mercedes room to shift forms. Sideways barely even started the sequence before figuring out that he couldn't transform, and the attempt only caused another flare up of pain. Howling in agony, the Mercedes wrapped his arms around his chest, writhing on the ground. Caught off guard by the suddenness of his plight, Demolisher simply stared at him, wondering if it would pass. There was a good chance, however, that waiting it out would prove fatal.
New wires were pulled out of Demolisher's chassis along with the fuel line, and the Constructicon had to hold him flat to connect them a second time. He bypassed Sideways' firewalls with ease, bringing up an old subroutine that would sync their systems. He began uploading the necessary data to the Mercedes, rewriting lines of code as multiple errors told him he was doing everything wrong. Hacking was not exactly his forte, but he was only trying to get their programs to recognize one another.
“Sideways. Sideways. Listen to me,” Demolisher said loudly, ensuring the data feed went only one way to prevent a negative backlash of pain into himself. Below him, the Mercedes pawed at the new wires, lacking the strength to pull them loose or damage them. They were foreign to his body, and telling him things that they had no right to be telling him. His vents were over cycling, inhaling and expelling air in a manner the reminded Demolisher of watching a human suffer an asthma attack. “You need to shed your alt mode. I'm going to host you, do you understand?”
Sideways could hardly nod, let alone speak, but the silver 'Con began disconnecting sections of his armor. Minding the wires and tubes that connected them, Demolisher helped strip the superfluous protrusions that made up his alt mode. It took less than ten minutes before Sideways was a bare protoform once again, which was exactly what the Constructicon wanted. Despite being even more exposed and vulnerable, the excavator picked him up carefully, sending commands through their temporary link up.
The programs were incomplete, as Sideways was not a true symbiote and thus did not possess the complimentary software. Both of them were hardwired to be hosts, but Demolisher would work around the conflicting code long enough to get Sideways stable. In his current state, the silver mech was far more open to suggestion, and did not resist anything Demolisher asked of him. He immediately obeyed the command to fold up into the Constructicon's chassis, transforming with him as he shifted to his alt mode.
Having never carried a drone of any kind before, Demolisher found it vaguely unsettling to feel his insides rearranging themselves to accept the new passenger. Completely ensconced within the mining vehicle, Sideways was likely in the safest place he'd ever been since the war had started. The pain had started to dull, but Demolisher continued to send him commands to recharge and remain silent. Despite the disorienting merge, Sideways complied, and the excavator felt confident they could travel.
Dusk surrounded them now, and Demolisher started off down the road, for once able to move after dark. He was already sending another message through the satellites, though this one bore a different encryption. It wasn't often he had to communicate across enemy lines, but medics frequently used neutral channels. If Sideways had been in contact with him prior to arriving on Earth, there was a good chance the Autobot would be more willing to answer his call. Now, the only evidence of Sideways' existence was the Mercedes skeleton left in the middle of the road, as though some great monster had cracked him out his shell and devoured him whole.
Demolisher supposed that wasn't too far from the truth, except this monster had a medic to find, and fast.