The Command Trine had been gone since the early morning on what was supposed to have been a routine scouting mission. Starscream should have been back joors ago, and the delay was causing Megatron to pace back and forth the Command Deck. Anyone watching would put his restlessness and grumbling down to annoyance at his second-in-command’s tardiness—could Starscream not even complete this one simple mission without running into trouble? he truly was useless!—but in truth he was worried sick. The Autobots had been more aggressive lately, and whenever any of his officers tried to mention it—Starscream, it was usually Starscream—he had laughed and blustered and called them a coward. Was he really that big of an aft to have laughed at the danger and then sent Starscream to his death?
No, Starscream wasn’t dead. Starscream was too stubborn to die, the glitch, and if he did he would only turn up again to haunt him. One way or another Starscream would make sure Megatron knew the folly of his ways, make sure Megatron never heard the end of it.
So why wasn’t he here? What Megatron hated the most was the not knowing.
Just when he thought he would explode from the tension, he was on the verge of blasting everything in sight to ashes just as some outlet for the manic energy that was crawling all over his exostructure and threatening to pull his spark apart, right then was when an alert chimed on one of the consoles and the mech on duty, Megatron didn’t even register who it was, announced, “Starscream’s back.”
Megatron was moving before the mech had finished speaking. He stormed all the way to the top of the facility, where a spacious hangar opened to the sky, looking out over miles of glittering blue ocean. He heard the trine coming before he saw them. The screech of jet engines had never sounded so welcome. When the three seekers thundered into the hangar, Megatron was standing there waiting, his arms folded and his optics, like hard gemstones, fixed on Starscream.
“Funny,” he said as Starscream transformed and approached him. He had no other choice, Megatron was blocking the door into the rest of the base. “You look like you’re in one piece.”
Behind Starscream, Thundercracker and Skywarp exchanged glances. If Megatron had been paying attention to anything but Starscream’s face he would have seen Skywarp roll his optics.
“Go ahead and get cleaned up,” Starscream said to his trine-mates. “No doubt this won’t take long.”
The sneer he threw Megatron’s way was almost enough to shatter the fragile hold Megatron had on his temper. He had been worrying about the glitch all day and he had the nerve to be annoyed about it?
“I expect a full report explaining why a routine scouting patrol took you in excess of six joors,” he snarled.
“And you’ll get it,” Starscream snapped. Thundercracker slipped past the pair of them as unobtrusively as a mech his size and with that kind of wingspan could, while Skywarp merely popped out of existence, choosing to teleport instead of experience the awkwardness of being caught in another of Megatron and Starscream’s spats. “After I’ve had a chance to wash, get some energon, and spoken to Hook about patching this unsightly damage. Not that you’d care.”
Damage?
Megatron cast his eyes down over Starscream’s frame again, more carefully this time. There was nothing obvious beyond scratches and scuffs, some dirt here, a smudge of paint not belonging to Starscream there. He hadn’t walked with a limp, but it would be just like Starscream to endure a little extra pain just to save his face. Now that Megatron looked at him properly he saw beyond the seeker’s infuriatingly arrogant expression, his ready aggression and scorn, and saw the ginger way he was holding himself. He saw a slight tremble to his wing-tips, a twitch of his fingers.
“You’re damaged,” Megatron said.
“Ah, there’s the razor-sharp perception I expect from you, Lord Megatron.”
“Explain,” Megatron barked. “You were not supposed to meet any Autobot resistance on your scheduled route.”
“Tell that to the Autobots,” Starscream spat. His fists clenched at his sides and he bared his teeth. He was holding himself rigidly upright with sheer force of will, Megatron realised. Megatron ought to move out of his way, let him go to Hook and save his dignity—which was exactly why he continued to bar his path and pushed him yet further.
“You were attacked?”
“I’ll put it all in my report,” Starscream said through gritted teeth. “But yes, if you must know. We engaged the Autobots a few mechanomiles to the south-east, just inland. They were waiting for us.”
“An ambush?” Megatron is taken aback. No one should be even aware of their new patrol routes, Soundwave had assured him security was watertight.
“Yes,” Starscream said, with the same tone one might use to explain a simple concept to a particularly troublesome protoform. “They knew we were coming and they were ready. The Prime himself even came out to play-”
“Optimus?”
Starscream glared at him. “No, the other Prime. Yes of course Optimus! And yes, fine, I got my aft handed to me. Now if you’ve humiliated me enough will you please let me pass!” He took a step forward, only to hesitate, press a hand to his midriff and grimace. Megatron could see that he immediately hated this display of weakness in front of his leader.
Glowering, Megatron thought about taking revenge for that outburst, but he knew Starscream better than anyone—and he knew that if Starscream was trying to conceal the extent of his damage rather than loudly complaining about it to all and sundry, then he really must be seriously hurt. Even though he was angry at Starscream for getting himself into trouble in the first place—and engaging the Prime? without back-up? was he really so truly and utterly stupid?—he relented at last, and stood aside. Starscream shot him a suspicious look, and then went to move past him and into the hallway beyond. Megatron wasn’t going to let him get away that easily. He fell in step with the seeker, who was walking stiffly, still trying to hide how weak he was, how much pain he was in.
“Must you?”
“Starscream,” Megatron said, a warning growl. He watched Starscream’s face closely, read his body language as easily as a datapad. The stubborn fool was still trying to pretend. Megatron wasn’t going to accept it. “Don’t make me force you.”
“Force me to what?” Starscream stopped and faced him, and for a loaded moment they stared one another down. Megatron’s will was just as strong as Starscream’s, but Starscream was exhausted from the battle and the flight home. Starscream cracked first. “Megatron-”
“Force you to accept my help,” Megatron said. He flicked his optics down, briefly, before returning his smouldering gaze to Starscream’s face. From the looks of him, the Air Commander was on the brink of collapse—or at least, he would be if he were any other mech. Starscream would stay upright out of pure stubbornness, even if he was falling apart.
For a moment it looked like Starscream was going to refuse, but then a spasm of pain stole his breath, and he said, “W-what, the great Lord Megatron stoops to aiding his lowly lieutenant? Why Megatron, I didn’t know you cared.”
“Careful,” Megatron said. “You’re dangerously close to expressing gratitude.” He held out an arm, and Starscream growled and took it. Pleased with himself for gaining this small victory, and perhaps a little relieved that he had made the insufferable seeker see sense, Megatron’s mouth curved into a smile.
That smile disappeared an instant later when Starscream said, “Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?”
“You must be mistaken,” Megatron said quickly, turning his face away so Starscream wouldn’t see anything else to crow over. “Stop wasting time.”
Starscream leant heavily on Megatron, no doubt making this whole procedure more difficult than it needed to be, and they began to make their way down into the base and towards Hook’s office. Starscream didn’t take his optics off Megatron’s face, as though waiting to catch Megatron out again.
“Admit it,” he said after a klik or so. “You’re pleased to see me.”
“I am relieved that my second-in-command returned from his mission in one piece,” Megatron said. “It would be highly inconvenient to have to replace you.” Too late, he realised his mistake. Starscream pounced on it at once, his optics blazing mischievous red.
“Would it, now? Ha! I knew it. I knew I wasn’t as replaceable as you always go on.” Of course he knew, but Megatron couldn’t out and admit it, now could he?
“Silence,” he grumbled. “I’m missing the peace and quiet of your absence already.”
“You were worried about me.” Starscream was grinning now, in spite of what must be excruciating pain. Megatron seriously considered dropping him and letting him make his own way, but it would feel too much like giving up now.
“I was only worried you would come back,” Megatron snarled, but he wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all Starscream.
“I’m touched,” Starscream said. “It was almost worth getting beaten halfway to the Pit and back just to see that you care.” His grin was sharp and spiteful, but the swirl of his energy field was all warmth and amusement. He really was touched. Megatron decided to take that as a victory.
“Shut up, Starscream,” he said.
“Absolutely not,” Starscream replied.