Title: Retribution
Series: The Chance Chronicles, Chapter 4
Universe: Transformers. A Juxtaposition sidestory/AU, set as an alternate of the Jux comics by Cafei and the AU Juxtaposition series by Vaeru (Dreaming of Who?). Go to Vaeru ff.net page and read the bio to get a look at the whole thing, with handy dandy links to Cafei's Deviant Art page as well as all of Vaeru's fanfics at ff.net. I highly recommend reading/viewing their work, as it will give you crucial setting and background for this series. =) (Also, the main series is a damn good read and the AU off-shot story & related comics are plain hilarious!)
Note: Thank you to Vaeru & Cafei, for the Juxtaposition Fan-Fanfic contest and their kindness in letting me expand my entry into a series. Many thanks to ajremix for the beta reading!

~*~

Ravage had settled into a comfortable rhythm since his "resizing" and subsequent introduction to the squishies on board Metellus. Though he would die before admitting as much, the change of pace from the usual rat-race involved with living among Decepticons had been... not entirely unpleasant. If you look at the whole thing sideways and maybe even squinted a little bit.

Between the bouts of Autobot Tormenting he engaged in (who knew looking cute and inoffensive could actually deter retaliation, miniature Decepticon sigil embedded on his "hide" and all?) and phases of increasingly focused "train the squishies", Ravage had been getting a general idea of what the concept of vacation meant.

It was a rather novel sensation, all things considered.

He vaguely wondered if the Decepticons were enjoying the respite from having to deal with a bored-out-of-his-circuits-Ravage, every now and then. And enjoyed the thought that each time they let their guard down, one of the time delayed surprises he'd left lying about probably reminded them of his absence - and therefore, their inability to try and find him to exact reparation.

And that was a most enjoyable thought.

Even if he'd been at his most suspicious, though, he would never have seen Sideswipe coming, not in a million years.

--

He'd kept his peace and lurked in the background of Evelyn's mind ever since the Decepticon had been added to their little habitat in the medbay, despite his original furor and protests. Evelyn had rolled her eyes and accused him of sulking and ignored him as best she could from then on, even though he had no doubt she'd started to grow suspicious of his continued silence after a while. She'd not reached the breaking point yet though, and hadn't asked him if he was all right or what was going on, since he'd at least surfaced whenever they met with Sunstreaker in the hallways. (Sunstreaker flat out refused to have anything to do with the medbay or the small feline mech who lived within it. Evelyn had unwarily commented about Sunstreaker being just as bad as any cat, which had sent the yellow twin stalking off for the sparring area. Sideswipe had felt rather sorry for the mech who had staggered into the medbay a few hours later, looking a bit as though someone had dropped a planet on his head. Or three.)

While it had been entirely too funny to see his twin one-upped by a Decepticon, never mind one with a handicap of size and memory loss to boot, Sideswipe nevertheless felt he had to settle the score. Especially since he intended to torment his twin forever about the whole thing, once retaliation for said teasing might not involve instant death anymore. (It would be a while, he suspected. Quite a while, at that.)

Still, it had been deceptively easy to rig up the entire thing, in large part, he thought, because his silence had been kept in order to ensure that the Decepticon not find out the details about Evelyn's "condition" for the time it took to set the whole thing up. For all that the subject came up often in the infirmary, the specific details had largely remained unspecified ~ which meant someone unawares of the entire situation ended up with precious little in the ways of information when it came to figuring things out.

(Or maybe Ratchet was right and the Decepticon really was amnesic and reduced to a state of stupidity, Sideswipe sometimes allowed himself to wonder. But only sometimes.)

So when the howl of feline indignation echoed across the medbay, Sideswipe wasted no time in giving up on pretending to be asleep (though he made sure Evelyn still was, neatly tucked away in the back of her own mind). Scrambling his host over to the edge of the table to view the results of his trap, Sideswipe scanned the infirmary, looking for his victim. He laughed out loud (the sound was still weird and unsettling to him when he stopped to think about it) utterly pleased with himself as he surveyed the results of his prank. The paints clashed in the most absolutely horrifying of ways, and Sunstreaker would likely have been traumatized with disgust at the combination for quite some time before being able to appreciate the fact that it was a Decepticon who had been gifted with such a paint job.

The indignant Ravage snapped up a glare at the amused human snickering down at him, then nearly tripped on his own paws as he realized who was laughing, stabilizing himself at the last minute while wondering what in the universe was going on.

"Aw, did the widdle poor kitty trip and fall into some nasty paint?"

A strangled, confused hiss answered the question, the sound half-hearted and entirely perplexed as Ravage shook his head once more, sending neon pink and chartreuse splatters of paint falling to the floor in a multicolored rain of flecks and dots. It took another moment for Ravage to realize that the mocking tone held none of Evelyn's usual slurring Cybertronian. The sub-tonals and harmonics were still very much absent, but the dialect accent was far crisper, the bastardization of the word "kitty" the only thing even remotely close to Evelyn's way of speaking. The insult which followed was particularly inventive, too.

But, in the end, it was the smile that did it. That, along with several other details accumulated since his unexpected change in lifestyle, overheard and idly stored away to be puzzled over later – all those details suddenly merging to form a single picture which explained far too much. With a low rumble, Ravage crouched, determined to find out who had taken over his squishie, and then get clear explanations as to what in the Pit was going on.

"Er..."

There was some measure of satisfaction in Ravage's processors when the look on the human's face changed from smugness to consternation as Ravage cleared the distance between them much faster than he'd ever done before during his residence in the medbay. He'd never been quite this motivated before, after all.

"Eep!"

--

It had taken Ravage one trip and a half around the medbay to go from "gnaw the squishie till answers are given" to "find out who the hell has compromised my squishie while still not blowing up the amnesia detail thing sky high". The shouted threats and swears from the one he was pursuing indicated an extensive time in several of the more remote backwater areas as well as a definite knowledge of some of the more unsavory slums which generally remained unacknowledged by the Cybertron elite. That Ravage had slipped twice in the paint gradually covering an increasing expanse of floor (and walls, and shelves as well by then) was doing nothing good for the Decepticon's temper. Which hadn't been all that good to start with, considering how badly he dealt with being pranked in general, and how he detested being shown up in well... everything. (The last one to pull off a successful prank on him aboard Thanatos had ended up suspended over the ship's drive right before a jump. His fellow cassettes had thought the whole thing absolutely brilliant. Soundwave had been too busy quietly melting a processor at the damage report to comment.)

Ravage came to a stop as the squishie clambered up a narrow rail leading to some of the higher shelving units. Its breathing was beginning to get rather labored and its color was alarming – Ravage knew well enough that this current physical condition his squishie was in would likely cause the medic ruling over the medbay with an iron fist (and wrench) to have a fit over the entire thing. That alone, he suspected, would be reward enough. Ravage had no doubt whoever was currently controlling the squishie would get a full blast rant for that. Perhaps, he thought, that might be enough for now. His tail twitched once as he watched the form high up above crawl over the edge of a shelf, scuffles indicating it was still moving while out of sight, until he spotted it once more, this time glaring down at him. The frown turned to a smirk as the realization that Ravage wasn't following settled in, the expression soon accompanied by yet another rude gesture.

It was, all things told, a rather obscure insult. One most Autobots likely wouldn't have any clue about and those who did wouldn't react for fear of giving away something unsavory to say the least.

Ravage's eyes widened at the gesture, part disbelief and part pure shock.

The ensuing feline howl of rage that instantly followed drew a startled yelp from the human high above, partly in wonder at the comprehension of the implied insult, partly in serious dismay at how fast the felinoid managed to get up that wall and on the shelf.

Scrambling away from Ravage, Sideswipe snarled in anger - at the Decepticon for startling him so badly, and at himself for getting caught in such an awkward situation. The felinoid was small but far from harmless – he remembered the damage the claws had inflicted on Sunstreaker's armor only too well.

A yelp from the Decepticon drew another rude gesture from his as he kept backing up, not liking the fact that the felinoid was suddenly scrambling towards him. Fast. The memory of his twin's clawed faceplate faded from his mind instantly, however, as his next backwards step encountered nothing but thin air.

Ohslag.

The sound of claws digging into metal was the only thing Sideswipe could hear over the rush of blood in his ears as he kept tipping over.

Wait... he was warning me?

--

"What the...?"

The stunned whisper wasn't noticed by anyone else in the medbay at first, giving Ratchet ample time to shuffle through the doorway which closed a long moment later behind him, the door sliding shut with gentle care. The floor was liberally covered in dots of pink and revoltingly lurid green paint, and a series of marks (footprints on closer inspection) ran back and forth across the room. And, he realized, the shelves. And... the wall?

"What have you little monsters done this time?"

A faint, urgent meep broke Ratchet's dismay long enough for the mech to spot a human dangling from the edge of one of the shelves, held in place only by a tiny felinoid's claws, dug deep into the paneling of the shelf. Chance's mouth was full of cloth as he hung on to both shelf and human clothing with wide, stunned eyes. With an oath, the medic scrambled towards the far wall of the medbay, just in time to catch both Evelyn and Chance as gravity finally laid its claim.

"Oof! I didn't need your help you stupid Decepticon!" The reaction was part relief at not having gotten Evelyn injured badly or possibly worse, and part embarrassment at the whole situation. Things had gotten out of hand, and Sideswipe was the first to admit as much – to himself at least.

Blinking, Ratchet stared for a moment at Evelyn's uncharacteristic tone of voice, watching the human scramble from a sprawl to a kneeling position, one fist being shaken furiously at the other being in his hand, before realizing it wasn't Evelyn who was talking. The hostile answering hiss from a crouching, clearly furious and multicolored Chance confirmed his guess. It also gave him a pretty good idea as to what might have just occurred.

"Sideswipe. What are you doing?" If Ratchet's slow, measured tone wouldn't have been enough to draw Sideswipe's attention, the odd, sinister smile etching the bot's faceplates did the trick.

"Um..."

"You were hanging from a shelf. A very high shelf." Ratchet was practically beaming benevolently as he spoke. "If you had fallen, both you and Evelyn would very likely have died."

"Er..."

"Chance would not have survived the fall either." The faint twitch from the felinoid in his hand was ignored as Ratchet continued to give the Sideswipe-in-a-human on his hand a level, almost kind look.

"..."

"I'll talk to Evelyn." A pause. "Now."

Ratchet speaking in a gentle and calm voice was scarier than Howling-in-rage-Ratchet, Sideswipe decided numbly, before fleeing for the recesses of Evelyn's mind.

A feminine shriek of pure rage echoed through the medbay as Evelyn snapped back into focus.

"RATCHET! Get him out of my body SO I CAN KILL HIM!"

Gah. I'm so doomed.

The happy yowl of a delighted feline followed by a thump as it sprung for Evelyn's arms did nothing to make Sideswipe feel better.

--

Still furious over Sideswipe's actions, Evelyn hugged Chance a bit closer to herself as she finally finished the long trek to her sleeping area. Cafei, having returned from visiting Wheeljack said nothing, peeking from the edge of the table down at her. She reached out for Chance as Evelyn cleared the final feet needed to put her level with the other girl, and both of them watched as the small felinoid automatically curled up once more after the transfer, still in recharge. Ratchet had gone over the both of them with almost frightening intensity, putting Chance through several tests before letting Evelyn reclaim him. She wasn’t sure what he'd been looking for, as each and every test performed on the amnesiac Decepticon seemed to return within whatever parameters Ratchet had assigned to the miniaturized creature, but eventually he'd had to stop, if only because Evelyn herself was just about ready to keel over on the spot.

"Aw," Cafei not quite murmured, both women having figured out a while ago that whispers tended to wake the small mech up on the spot, whereas just speaking lowly seemed to be completely acceptable a thing to do around him when he was in recharge. "He looks totally worn out..." A faint series of tremors rain through Chance's frame and Cafei rested a hand on him gently, hoping he wouldn't wake.

"Stupid Sideswipe," was the only response, Evelyn staring ahead at nothing with a darkling look.

Hey! I tried to tell you he was a Decepticon. But did you listen to me? Nooooo!

"Of course he's a Decepticon, moron. What, I'm blind or something? You think I wouldn't know that symbol after everything I've been through?"

Cafei showed no sympathy for Sideswipe in the least, watching the one sided conversation while gently petting the small form in her lap. It trembled slightly once more and Evelyn frown grew even darker.

Wha- but if you knew why didn't you say something?!

"Because he's helpless, of course. He's lost his memory – if he thinks he's just a cat, do you think for one second I'm going to take advantage of that?" That the "cat" was both familiar and comforting, in a way, was a topic she refused to broach just then. A confused splutter was the only sound Sideswipe was allowed, before Evelyn continued on. "It would be wrong to take advantage of his condition. And I, for one, will have nothing to do with anything even remotely resembling that. Or anyone who tries. Get me?"

But...

"Did you forget the part where your stupid prank would have gotten us both killed? If he hadn't caught us and held on? HUH? Even while he knew something was wrong with me, he still wouldn't let go! He would have gone over the side with us if Ratchet hadn't shown up in time!"

This new, uncompromisingly flat tone to Evelyn's voice was something Sideswipe hadn't ever heard before. He'd heard her afraid, defiant, angry, sad and happy, and every variation in between... but never this. She wasn't even threatening him with any of those horrible Earth foods.

That she was making a very valid and sharp point in regards to a Decepticon saving both their lives, as it were, was something he was trying very hard not to think about. He briefly wondered how a disembodied spark could feel as though it were squirming in shame. Until Evelyn's next words sent despair coursing through his awareness.

"I'm talking to Wheeljack about the menu."

Slag. I had to think I was off the hook there.

"For the next month."

Current Mood: busy