A note on Sinnertwin's alt as a 'dragon'. This comes from when I first saw him in G1 and thought the heads looked the most like a dragon and the idea that he was a wingless two headed dragon stuck.

Fallen Soldiers: Sinnertwin

Sixshot sighed as he looked at the two headed dragon whose jaws were still clamped around the remains of an arm. It hadn't been that long - maybe three vorns at best - since he'd lost the rest of the unit. Almost lost Sinnertwin in the aftermath of that disastrous mission too. Even now, he wasn't sure the dragon would continue to survive the loss of his gestalt and should that be the case, Sixshot would have no choice but to put him down. The move to split them up had been foolish but at the time they'd had no choice; none had been happy. Megatron had done it anyway because that was what war was and the result of the battles that day had cost the Decepticons one of the most devastating units on the battlefield – Abominus, though it had won them ground over all.

The megacycle and those that followed wouldn't be forgotten soon...

/-

One minute Sinnetwin's alt mode was happily tearing into on the remains of Autobots littering the battlefield while Sixshot cleaned his weapons off, the next the terrorcon's first head jerked up, optics wide with alarm. The second head joined it soon enough; all four optics swirling a pained white, tinged with yellow. A sign that something vital was no more in the gestalt.

There was no warning as the shrieks hit the air, the dragon almost writhing as pain greater than anything known lanced his spark, clouded his judgement and drew forth a terrifying snarl. That was the only warning the six-changer got as Sinnertwin lunged, optics a sickly, insanely pained yellow. Sixshot stumbled back in shock, though he recovered quickly and threw his leg out in a kick to drive Sinnertwin back. What the pit?

"Sinnertwin?" The only reply was a snarl. Slagging -! He sent out a ping to the other members of Sinnertwin's gestalt, but the ping went nowhere. His optics narrowed and battle mask snapped into place. Well. This was just his bundle of luck. He'd heard the stories about broken gestalt links and how they drove the poor fraggers mental with the backlash and if the rest of the unit had pasted to the Great Junkyard,… . It didn't matter. Right now, he had to stay alive long enough to disable a terrorcon. Which was easier said than done given Sinnertwin only seemed to see enemies. Oh well. Sixshot'd take him down, but he wouldn't kill him. Call it a selfish desire, but he wasn't keen on losing any more of his rapidly dwindling circle of friends.

Didn't mean he'd just stand there and allow the dragon to attack him though. A grunt at the headbutts, the horns puncturing armour, but nothing vital; Sixshot only rolled with it and seemed to shake it off, but Sixshot could tell his attack had done the damage he wanted. Unfortunately, the dragon just went with the kick and lashed out. A grunt and the ninja sidestepped that and the snap of the right head before jumping over the tail. There was no rhyme or reason to the attacks and several times one of the heads seemed to whimper, optics flickering red before returning to the yellow state.

A moment of consideration, then he shoved emotion down and drew on his other function; that of the STAG warrior, the weapon and unstoppable machine. He braced himself against the bite, teeth sinking into metal, but he could use that. A grunt and he pulled his fist back and smashed it into the head while it was holding onto him – at the same time, Sixshot turned his pain sensors off; didn't need the warnings distracting him. When the crazed mech drew back, he grabbed Sinnertwin's neck and squeezed, aiming to choke off the air flow though one set of intakes.

The response was a howl of pain and Sinnertwin lashed out with his other head, uncaring of the damage done to him. Sixshot's optics narrowed. So it was going to be the hard way? Fine by him. When the other head came in for another attack, he grabbed it, claws sinking into the optics as he used the momentum to shove the smaller forward. But Sinnertwin was no pushover and when he couldn't get free by struggling, he tried transforming. Not the best idea, given his state of mind, but Sixshot took full advantage of it and shoved the other face first into the dirt of Animatros, making sure his frame landed heavily on top. While Sinnertwin struggled to get free, Sixshot pulled an energon knife from subspace and jammed that into a shoulder, twisting.

He took no joy or pleasure from the howl of pain, nor the way his friend struggled to get him off. His only aim now was to force a shut down from overheating and hopefully give the broken links a chance to scar over. Well, that was the theory based on the fiasco when Skalor had offlined and they'd struggled to get the Seacons back under control; but that had been only one mech and the Seacons were still around (How sane they were was anyone's guess). Sinnertwin had lost his whole gestalt.

Finally, after what seemed like and eternity, the frantic struggles eased and Sixshot chanced rolling the other around to face him. The optics were still a panicked yellow. Wait - Sixshot smiled grimly under his battlemask. While he couldn't do anything to fix the gestalt programming, the flash of red gave him hope he could help Sinnertwin ot at least keep him on the sanity side of the fence.

"Enough. This won't solve anything!" He only reply was a weak snarl. Sixshot refused to give an inch. He didn't know how much his friend comprehended right now but he couldn't afford to lose this fight or he'd lose Sinnertwin and he refused to allow that. If it was a selfish whim of what empathy he still retained or a fear of being alone, Sixshot didn't know, didn't care and refused to consider the second option. Another struggle from the mech pinned under him - and Sixshot head-butted him, the jarring rendering the overclocked mech limp under the larger. Sixshot sat up, allowing cool air to rush into his systems as he studied Sinnertwin. The mech was shivering; a good sign that the scaring was taking place. Well, Sixshot hoped that would be the case.

Nevertheless, he winced as he dragged himself to his feet, frowning at the cracks in armour and metal. Most of them were superficial, but never let t be said Sinnertwin couldn't give as good as he got. He picked up the fallen mech and slung him over his shoulder and headed back towards the ship.

He'd give basic repairs and see where things went from there. If he was irrevocably insane, then he'd have to kill him.

It would be a mercy if that proved to be the case.

(to be concluded.)