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“Tell me what happened.”
Starscream glared up at him. “What business is it of yours what happened?”
Skyfire blinked. “Because you get angry when you can’t talk about things.”
“You mean complain about things, don’t you?”
“No. Talk.” Skyfire patted the ground; he was already sitting down, just– what, patiently waiting for Starscream to sit down with him? Sentimental idiot.
Starscream sat down.
“There was an accident at the Academy,” he muttered. “Everyone… everyone’s blaming me.”
“An accident?”
“An explosion.” Starscream looked down at the ground. “Took off a student’s leg.”
“Hmm,” Skyfire said meditatively. “Everyone blames you?”
“They– yeah.” The fools, just because he’d been the last person seen by the solution before it blew. He hadn’t even done anything to it! It had been unstable to begin with–
“Was it your fault?”
“No,” Starscream spat. “No, it wasn’t.”
“Then why does it matter what they think?”
Starscream turned and stared. Skyfire was regarding him, looking entirely sincere. Sincere and affectionate and kind.
Idiot.
“It matters because– because it’s not true, and they’re thinking it,”Starscream snapped. “They’re blaming me when for once I didn’t do anything!” He was shouting now, he always ended up shouting, and he hated it. But Skyfire didn’t flinch.
Why did Skyfire never flinch?
“Aggh,” Starscream growled, turning away and putting his helm in his hands.
“I’m sorry.”
Starscream looked up at Skyfire quickly, trying to evaluate the other mech’s tone– was he making fun of him?
“They shouldn’t have disregarded your side of the story,” Skyfire continued. “You deserve better. You deserve to be… to be listened to.” He glanced down at Starscream, a strangely soft look in his optics. “I wish more people knew that.”
Starscream gaped at him.
Oh slag.
Oh Primus.
Ohhh Primus what should he say.
“Shut up,” he said bluntly.
Skyfire chuckled. “Okay.”
They sat together in silence for a while, looking up at the sky. It was just dark enough that Starscream could let the contented expression on his face remain, and ensure that it would go unnoticed. Sure, Skyfire was a complete sap, but that didn’t mean Starscream couldn’t tolerate his company. He was… he was…
Starscream struggled for a word and lost. He couldn’t decide what it was about Skyfire that made him… Skyfire. That made Starscream seek him out when things went wrong. That made Starscream enjoy– tolerate– being around him. What was it?
He glanced up at Skyfire again. The bot was looking up into the sky– it was glinting, shimmering with stars, one part of Starscream’s processor pointed out– smiling and seeming to derive some sort of pleasure from the experience.
Starscream snorted softly.
Skyfire was a big, soft, sentimental idiot and he was the last mech Starscream should be doing things with. Pit, here he was sitting out under the stars with him like some–
Like some–
Like some worthless reject of an Academy bot who’d gotten ostracized from his classmates and went running away to complain about it. That’s what he was. This was stupid. He should just get up and leave–
“I saw an organic creature today,” Skyfire said brightly. “A cow. From a planet far away. We observed it. Fed it. It produces liquid from its organs, Starscream. Not fuel, just… liquid.”
Starscream stared at him in horror, all previous thoughts forgotten. “That is–”
“Amazing. If we could replicate the process–”
“Disgusting! It’s disgusting, is what it is! An organic?”
Skyfire beamed. “It’s fascinating. It eats plant life, and–”
“I don’t want to hear about it.” Horrid. Why Skyfire studied organic sciences, Starscream would never guess.
“I thought you might appreciate the distraction. And I thought it was a wonderful learning experience. There are so many other organic creatures out there that we don’t know about!”
Starscream shuddered. “And that I don’t ever want to know about, thank you very much.”
“Hmm,” Skyfire said peaceably, and turned to look directly at Starscream. “You really must broaden your horizons, Starscream.”
“I’m considering it.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” Starscream turned away and lay flat on his backstruts, staring up at the stars. “What do you think of them?”
“Think of… the stars?”
Starscream made a vaguely affirmative noise, shifting on the ground as Skyfire came to lie flat next to him. The mech was silent for a moment, gazing up at the sky.
“They’re much more beautiful than anyone else thinks,” he said finally. “They seem lonely, up there. All on their own, and so far away from everything else.”
“Hmm,” Starscream said.
“I think it would be good to get to know a star,” Skyfire said softly. “See if they’re really as harsh and flaming as they seem.” He thumped his helm gently against the ground. “I don’t think they are.”
“You don’t?” Starscream closed his optics. “There’s no evidence for that.”
“I think there is.”
“Huh.” Starscream didn’t move, but he felt happier. For some reason. Some reason very not related to their conversation.
“I think there is enough evidence that I could move forward with my theory,” Skyfire continued, quietly. “I’d like to prove it.”
“Maybe you will,” Starscream said. “Maybe one day.”
“Hmm,” Skyfire said contentedly. “Maybe one day.”