AN: This was created for fanfic competition on TCA, I forgot for which month. I feel it is not one of my better fics, but please enjoy. Flames not accepted but I would love to read feedback on how you reacted to the story.
Disclaimer: I do not own or make any money off of the Transformers. They are the property of Hasbro/Takara.

Bluestreak cursed as once again his hand slipped from the rifle and banged into his knee. He was trying to clean it after their last big battle with the Decepticons a megacycle ago but the energy pack was somehow jammed into it's slot and refused to come out. Of course, it didn't help that he was trying to unjam it mostly with just his left hand since he'd acquired a somewhat deep slash across his right shoulder and upper arm in said battle. Even making a fist with his right hand cause little trails of fire to run up to his shoulder so he made it a point not to use it as much as possible.

"Aw, slag it! Come out, will you!" He cried in frustration, slapping at the gun with the palm of his hand.


He looked up to see Sunstreaker approaching his little corner with a big cup of energon, Sideswipe right behind him.

"Oh, hi Sunstreaker, Sideswipe. What's up?"

Sunstreaker offered the cup to the gunner. "I saw the others hogging all the dispensers so I got you a cup."

"Hey, thanks!" Bluestreak laid his gun down and accepted the cup. It had been crowded at the dispensers and he'd tried to get some but found it too painful on his shoulder to push into the crowd so he'd opted to stay out of the way till the crowd had lessened. He took a drink from it while the twins sat down on either side of him, then nearly choked on the energon when Sunstreaker swiped his rifle from his lap.


He tried to grab it back with his injured arm, but found that Sideswipe had commandeered it by the wrist and was now digging through a medkit that he'd produced from somewhere. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" Sunstreaker snorted as he stared examing the rifle.

"Well, it looks like-oww, Sideswipe! That hurt!"

"Stop wiggling then," Sideswipe grunted. "I need to get this amateur patchwork job off. Why didn't you go to the repair bay for this? And move your doorwing outta the way."

Bluestreak thought he'd done a fine job of patching up the wound himself, considering he had to do it with his off-hand. But Sideswipe probably had more experience then he did in fixing wounds so he moved his doorwing without complaint. "Well, Hound and Cliffjumper were really bad off when they came in, you know, and Wheeljack was busy fixing them up and Jazz, Trailbreaker and Prowl were all worse off and taking up Rachet's time and I just didn't want to get in the way, you know? So I just put something on it till they can get a look at it."

Sideswipe frowned. "This isn't just a minor cut, you should have stayed at t-"

"Primus, Blue!" Sunstreaker exclaimed from the other side as he struggled with the energy pack. "What did you do with your rifle? This things jammed tight!"

Bluestreak grinned sheepishly. "I, uh, used it on a Decepticon's head."

Sunstreaker looked up sharply, an eyeridge raised as Sideswipe chuckled at the image.

"Oookay. No wonder why it's jammed." He picked through Bluestreak's toolkit till he found the tool he wanted and went back to working on the rifle.

The gunner hissed and did his best not to flinch as Sideswipe worked on a sensitive area. "You know, I really appreciate this guys, but you don't have to do all this. I mean, I can wait for Rachet or Wheeljack to be free, and it's not like it'll hurt my gun any to not be fixed for a couple megacycles, and I'm sure you guys have other things you rather be doing that taking care of me an-"

"Bluestreak?" Sunstreaker interrupted him mildly without looking up from his work.


"Just shut up and drink your energon."