Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Starscream wasn’t entirely certain what possessed him to do it, really. He’d spent months perusing the data on the human internet, finding nothing of any particular usefulness to him, and yet he continued to waste his time with it- human social media websites in particular.

Perhaps a part of him missed watching a functioning society- however primitive and backwards- go about its business. Perhaps he wanted to laugh at the stupidity the the apparent pinnacle of human achievement was wasted on. Perhaps he was lonely.

Either way, he found himself staring down his brand-new, completely empty tumblr blog labeled ‘normalperson123.’

‘Greetings.’ Said the header sternly. ‘I am just a normal human person who participates in normal human activities. Nothing to see here.’

He always was a terrible liar, and he knew it was bad, but he was too stubborn to change it.

“What in the frag am I supposed to do with this?” He muttered to himself, tapping his claws against the Harbinger ’s console. Perhaps an introduction? Couldn’t hurt.

‘I am here to participate in the data-sharing social activities of this website. My interests are...’ he paused. ‘My interests are science,’ eugh, how broad, ‘space,’ so basic, ‘and F-16 fighter jets (all the other types are inferior and pathetic). I also may use this space to ‘vent’ about my personal life. That’s it.’

Well. That was as perfectly straightforward as he could get. He supposed it would suffice.

He spent the next hour scrolling through the ‘F-16’ tag, reblogging various pictures with comments such as ‘superb!’ and ‘very nice.’ After about fifteen posts he decided that that was enough for one day. Feeling embarrassed and perhaps a bit accomplished, he resumed his search for cybertronian activity.

...

After about a week of blogging about airplanes, astrophysics, and (weirdly enough) stupid work-related jokes and memes, he’d attracted a small following of fifteen users.

He felt very proud of himself for that. It brought a sliver of comfort, knowing that fifteen random strangers thought he was interesting enough to follow.

After a particularly humiliating defeat one day, he felt he needed that.

‘Ugh,’ he began, ‘just got the slag beat out of me. It’s funny how they seem to think that everyone deserves mercy and understanding except for me. I knew they hated me, but the way they made me bargain information in exchange for medical treatment was just horrid! They act so morally superior, but they’re just as awful as anyone else I’ve ever met. Aftheads.’

Before he could think much about what he’d said, he posted it. About five minutes later, he received a notification.

‘I’m so sorry that happened!!! Are you ok?’ said someone called weedbaby69. They were a follower of his as of three days prior. He’d scanned through their blog and found mostly incomprehensible ‘memes.’

‘I’m better now, I suppose,’ He replied back.

‘Would you like to talk about it?’ Asked weedbaby69. He thought for a minute.

‘I think so.’

‘ So, what happened? ’ Asked weedbaby69 over the messaging system.

‘Had a run-in with some enemies,’ he said, ‘they were less than cordial.’

‘ Are you alright? Do you need to go to the hospital?’  Starscream almost snorted.

And what do you care?  H e thought, but he typed out ‘ I’m as well as can be expected, thank you for your concern. ’ It was sarcastic.

‘ Oh good!!!!! I hope it stays that way :) ’ said weedbaby69.

Curious.

...

Miko giggled, staring at her computer screen.

“Oh,” she giggled, “oh my god. Hey, Jack! Come look at this!” Jack rolled his eyes and took a seat next to her.

“I thought you said you’d help Raf with finding pictures of the Autobots,” he said.

“No, no- I was- but look at this post I found! It’s in the ‘not an alien’ tag.” Jack stared before bursting into laughter.

“‘I am here to participate in the data-sharing social activities of this website?’ Oh, wow- ‘My interests are science, space, and F-16 fighter jets (all the other types are inferior and pathetic)-’” He tapered off, giggling. “‘I also may use this space to ‘vent’ about my personal life-’ oh my god, is this person even real?” Miko snickered.

“I know, right? Let’s check out their blog!”

A few seconds later, they weren’t finding it near as funny.

“ Ratchet! ”

...

“So, let me get this straight,” Ratchet said, pinching the space between his optics. “Miko was looking for possible photographic evidence of our existence on a blogging platform, using the key phrase ‘not an alien,’ as if anyone posting images of cybertronians on the human internet wouldn’t want them to be seen, and now you think that Starscream has somehow created a blog, on a human data-sharing platform whose express purpose is socialization, despite the fact that he hates humans.”

Miko blinked.

“Yeah, pretty much,” she said. Ratchet groaned.

“I have more important matters to worry about-”

“Wait, wait!” Said Jack. “Just look at the blog, and you’ll understand. I’ll have Raf send you a link.”

About forty-five seconds and fifteen different alien curses later, Ratchet slumped and buried his face in his servos.

“What’s wrong, doc-bot?” Miko asked cheekily.

“It’s Starscream. It’s definitely Starscream. This is absurd,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. Miko cackled.

“I told you!” She shouted, pointing her finger at him mockingly. Jack cleared his throat.

“That’s great, but what are we going to do? Is this dangerous? Should we shut him down?” Ratchet frowned thoughtfully.

“On the contrary, Jackson. I’ll have to talk this over with Optimus, but I think that the best course of action would be to monitor him through his...” he grimaced at the most recent post. “Whining. It will give us an advantage in understanding his psyche and predicting his moves in the future. As concerning as this is, it’s actually quite a useful find.”

“You’re welcome,” Miko said smugly. Ratchet grimaced again.

“... Good job, Miko,” he relented.

...

It was agreed upon by the Autobots that Starscream would be permitted to keep his blog for monitoring purposes, and that the kids were not to interact with it under any circumstances.

Naturally, Jack caught Miko doing just that the very next day.

She had been giggling in the corner at lunch, transfixed by her computer.

“What’s so funny?” Jack asked, seating himself next to her. Miko froze and pulled her laptop closer to her body.

“Nothing!” She squeaked. Jack, sensing all kinds of red flags, made a grab for it. It took some prying, but he finally managed to wrestle it away from her and get a good look at it.

“... Are you kidding me?!” He hissed, gesturing angrily to the blog. Miko snatched her computer back.

“What? It’s not like I’m hurting anybody!” She protested. Jack groaned.

“Miko, Optimus said-”

“Well, Optimus doesn’t have to know-”

“Hey, guys,” Raf said, sitting down across from them. “What’s going on?” Miko clutched her computer to her chest defensively. Jack pinched his nose bridge.

“Miko’s being reckless again and looking at Starscream’s blog,” he said flatly. Miko scowled at him, but Raf leaned forward in curiosity.

“Really? Can I see?” He asked. Jack was appalled.

“ Raf! ” He snapped. Raf had the decency to look a bit chastised.

“Well, the Autobots said we’re not allowed to interact- they didn’t say anything about looking,” he suggested hesitantly. Miko cheered. Jack scrubbed at his face.

“I give up,” he grumbled. Miko beckoned Raf over to her other side, presenting him with the computer.

“I was laughing because he reblogged a work meme and wrote an entire rant! Look, see?” Raf pushed his glasses back up his nose. He certainly did see.

“Wow, that’s... A lot,” he said, skimming over the swear-riddled fifteen-paragraph testament to Starscream’s grievances with the Decepticon cause (not named directly, of course- but still fairly obvious). Miko giggled.

“Look, it even goes into the tags!” She said, clicking on them and doubling the size of the post. Raf blinked.

“Good grief,” he whispered. He read a bit, and then started giggling anew. “Oh my gosh, he calls Megatron a ‘trash compactor!’” Jack couldn’t help but sputter at that.

“Wait, seriously?” He asked, sidling up to his friends and grabbing the computer so he could see better. Miko smacked his hand and took it back. “Ow!”

“No computer for the treacherous scraplet-fragger,” she snapped. Jack furrowed his eyebrows.

“What?” Miko shrugged.

“Starscream said it. I thought it was funny.” Jack grimaced.

“Please don’t start quoting Starscream, I’ll be legally obligated to smash your laptop and flush it down the toilet.” Miko glared at him and tightened her grip on the computer.

“I don’t think Optimus would approve of that,” she teased. Jack gave her a flat look.

“Optimus doesn’t need to know,” he threw back. The two teenagers held each other’s gazes with narrowed eyes, only to be interrupted by another giggle from Raf.

“Guys, look- he’s complaining about helicopters!” He said. Jack and Miko abruptly dropped the staring contest to read the post.

The rest of the day, the trio joked with each other about ‘sub-par maximum velocity’ and ‘an absolutely obscene amount of rotors.’

Chapter Text

Starscream decided that, out of all the horrid little squish-organisms on this planet, he hated birds the least.

Of course, their speeds were pathetic and they were covered in bizarre fibrous appendages, but at least they were clever enough to fly at all.

Starscream also came to the conclusion that human biology was malevolent and full of little pockets for hiding things. What could a human pull out of its disgusting, wet little orifices at any given time? What were they hiding? What on Unicron’s decaying carcass did they use those tiny little pede-digits for?!

No. He did not like them and their secrets.

He said as much on his blog, especially about the pede problem.

“As an actual, real member of the human species,” he had typed out, “I suggest that we all remove our bizarre, disgusting little ground-roving stabilizers and replace them with something more sensible. Like cinderblocks.”

He had gotten several comments on that, the first of which was: ‘you mean feet???’ Everything that followed was some variation or another of ‘anti-foot,’ ‘foot-havers dni,’ or ‘footphobic.’ It was becoming very popular- someone had even created a striped banner and dubbed it the ‘footphobe pride flag.’

He chuckled in satisfaction as he noticed another comment that said ‘reblog to replace your disgusting ground-roving stabilizers with cinderblocks.’ Good, his campaign was gaining popularity. Soon, there would be one less problem in the universe. He was brilliant!

“Hm,” he muttered to himself, registering a notification in his messages. “It seems weedbaby69 has returned to pester me.”

‘ Hello! ’ Said the message. ‘ What’s up? :)’  Starscream blinked.

Beg pardon?

‘ Anywhere that isn’t down, ’ he replied.

‘ Lmao, ’ said weedbaby69. ‘ How are you doing? ’

Starscream did a quick search.

“Ah! L-m-a-o. Slang. Stands for ‘laughing my ass off.’” He frowned. “What in the Pit is an ‘ass?’”

He searched that up, too- and learned many fun new synonyms for a human’s rear end. Satisfied with his findings, he returned to tumblr.

‘ Why are you laughing off your derrière?’  He asked.

‘ Adafdsgsgsgdfjgjfj, ’ replied weedbaby69. Starscream blinked, then sighed.

“Oh dear,” he muttered. “Another abbreviation. This is going to be tedious.”

Humans were such demented little creatures.

...

It had been a couple weeks since the kids had discovered Starscream’s blog, and Raf was swinging wildly between hating the mech and pitying him.

He was still all kinds of mad that Starscream had hurt Bumblebee when he’d lost his t-cog, and he wouldn’t deny the smug sense of justice he’d gotten when Starscream had made a post bemoaning that he’d been ‘betrayed’ and had ‘lost an important organ.’

... And then, in an act of flagrant disobedience, Raf may or may not have left an anonymous message to Starscream explaining that he probably deserved what he’d gotten, given who he’d chosen to ally with.

Starscream’s response to his ask had been long, nasty, and... Unfortunately kind of justified. It left Raf feeling a bit like an idiot.

‘Oh, get fragged! You don’t know anything about me and my situation, and you don’t know why I did anything! Do you think I wanted to align myself with a bunch of traitorous, filthy organ thieves?!

Admittedly, it was a colossal error in judgement, but I am starving!

But, of course you don’t know that- you just want to moralize like an insufferable...’

It went on and on and on. Raf really, really hated to admit it, but the guy had a point. Sort of.

And, well. The Autobots had kind of put him in that position- they couldn’t really be mad at him for being a decepticon right now, because he left them. Willingly.

... On the other hand-

“Hey, Raf! Whatcha doing?” Miko chirped, bounding up the steps to their platform two at a time. The boy realized he’d been staring blankly at his computer screen for ten minutes.

“Having a crisis,” he croaked. Ratchet glanced at them over his shoulder, raising an optical ridge.

“Crisis? Is everything alright?” He asked. Raf momentarily bluescreened.

“Uh, well- an existential crisis,” he said. “You know, like ‘why are we here, what is our purpose?’ That sort of thing.”

Miko was seized by a sudden coughing fit when she saw what was on his computer screen. Ratchet scoffed.

“What’s there to have a crisis about? Everything is an accident and ultimately devoid of meaning or purpose. Existence is a circus of tragedy and mistakes.” At the kids’ unsettled expressions, he hastily reset his vocalizer. “Well. Life doesn’t need a meaning, anyway- we’re here and that’s that. Best not to waste your time thinking about it.”

Raf blinked.

“Um. Thanks, Ratchet. That was...” He looked to Miko, who shrugged. “Helpful?”

Ratchet grunted, pursing his lips awkwardly, and returned to his work to avoid further conversation.

Arcee and Jack returned from a patrol, entering through the tunnel. The two-wheeler transformed immediately after her companion slid off the seat, stretching her limbs.

Ratchet glanced at Miko and Raf again, fidgeting uncomfortably.

“Arcee- wonderful!” He called, beckoning her to the storage area. “Come help me find some... Things.”

“Cool,” Arcee said, unsubspacing a couple rather large, solid-looking rocks. “I need to add these to my collection. Should I categorize them under ‘denters,’ or ‘paint-scratchers?’”

Their conversation trailed off as they disappeared further into the base, leaving the kids alone.

“What’s up?” Jack asked after he climbed up their loft-area. Raf put his face in his hands, displacing his glasses.

“I sent Starscream Anon hate,” he blurted.

“ What?! ” Jack and Miko shouted simultaneously, albeit with wildly contrasting tones.

“ Raf... ” Jack whined nervously, pulling at his own hair. Miko cackled.

“Dude, what did you say? ” She asked, sidling up to him and peering at his computer screen.

“Why would you do that?!” Jack wheezed. “You’re going to get killed!”

Miko giggled at Starscream long-winded response.

“Wow, somebody’s butthurt!” She crowed. Raf snatched his laptop back away from her.

“It’s not funny, Miko!” He snapped. “He’s- he’s got a point.”

Both Jack and Miko froze, staring at him incredulously.

“Wait, seriously?” Miko asked, narrowing her eyes at him. “Remember when he helped the jerks who took ‘Bee’s T-cog? Or how he killed Cliffjumper? Or how he tried to kill me in a cave?!”

“For once, I’m with Miko,” Jack said, crossing his arms. “You can’t be serious!”

Raf looked away guiltily, but he pushed the laptop at them.

“Just... Just read it. Really read it.”

Jack hesitantly took the computer, and he and Miko began to read.

Chapter Text

By the time Ratchet and Arcee returned, the kids were looking quite ill.

“Everything alright?” Arcee asked, quirking a worried optical ridge.

Miko stiffened, Raf’s face soured even further, and Jack went white as a sheet. Before Arcee could approach them, Ratchet reached a servo out to stop her.

“I don’t recommend getting too close,” he muttered. “They’re having a crisis. It appears to be infectious among humans.”

Arcee stared at him a moment, then shrugged.

“You know more about humans than me,” she murmured back. “Makes more sense than mitochondria- how are they part of a human, separate life forms, and microscopic power plants? That has to be fake.”

Ratchet patted her shoulder sympathetically.

“I find it best not to ask,” he said.

Arcee glanced back over to the humans and frowned.

“I’ll talk to them,” she said quietly, “see if there’s anything I can do.”

For a brief moment, Ratchet appeared troubled by something, but he quickly smoothed his face back over.

“Great. Good luck.” He shuffled awkwardly over to his workstation, deliberately avoiding looking at the humans. His antenna receded slightly into his back as he did so.

“Hey, guys,” Arcee said as casually as she could, sidling up to the platform. The kids looked up at her curiously. “Ratchet told me you were having some issues. Do you you want to talk about it?”

The kids collectively blanched.

“No!” Miko shouted abruptly, then froze. “I mean- um- talking doesn’t help! The world is all dumb and pointless either way! Everything sucks, and we’re all going to die!”

Jack and Raf gaped at her, aghast. Arcee looked supremely uncomfortable.

“Is that how you feel, guys?” She asked, leaning over the railing to peer at them more closely.

“... Yes?” Raf squeaked. Jack looked like he was going to puke.

Ratchet’s antenna receded further into his chassis, until only about a foot was left sticking out. Arcee frowned.

They were far too young to be despairing like this- something was clearly very wrong.

“... Okay,” she said, flashing them a thumbs-up. “Just, uh. Let me know if you need help with anything.”

She was going to have to consult Optimus about this.

...

“Miko!” Jack hissed, rounding on her furiously. “What the hell?” Miko shrugged helplessly.

“ I panicked! ” She whispered back. Raf wilted miserably.

“I hate lying,” he mumbled. “It makes my stomach hurt.”

Jack pulled at his own hair, visibly withholding a scream.

This was just the worst day.

...

Starscream was having the best day!

Well. Aside from the whole not-having-a-t-cog business. Also, his impending starvation.

Okay, Starscream was having an alright day, considering his less than ideal circumstances. In fact, he rather felt like one of the bound humans from that bizarre video Weedbaby69 had sent him, singing about looking on the ‘bright side of life.’

But, hey- he was allowed to take a break from his frothing rage once in a while! Especially for this momentous milestone!

Fifty-seven followers!

That was enough humans to fill more than eight cubes! Soon, he would have an army!

Sure, humans were very lacking in the strength department, but if one stepped on enough of them their joints would get soaked with their disgusting salt-fluids!

And what, one might ask, did salty fluids do to internals? Oh, nothing good. That was a recipe for a rust infection.

Plus, getting one’s joints gummed up with organic viscera was disgusting and distracting enough for one to get taken down by real weapons.

It was brilliant!

Now, he just needed a few thousand more. Simple enough. He chuckled darkly.

“Megatron won’t know what hit him,” he said, leaning against the ancient console and inspecting his dulling claws.

Oh, dear- he’d have to sharpen them sometime soon. Something blinked in the corner of his optic.

“Ah, my favorite minion!” He purred. When he finally had his army, Weedbaby69 would be one of his most trusted lieutenants.

‘ Hi, ’ said the message. ‘ Is it ok if we chat rn? I need someone to talk to. ’

Starscream blinked. Well, why not?

‘ Certainly, ’ he replied.

‘ I came out as trans to my parents today. They screamed at me and now I’m in my room and they won’t stop arguing. ’ Starscream froze.

Well, then.

He’d had to look up what ‘trans’ meant a few days ago, and simply put it was a human who deviated from their assigned gender-caste. It frequently involved changing pronouns and parts of one’s physiology to match.

As a caste-breaker himself, he could empathize.

‘ I’m really scared that they’ll kick me out,’  Weedbaby69 continued. ‘ I’m 18 now so they won’t get in trouble if they do. ’

Oh, now this was getting painfully close to home.

‘ Do you have anywhere else to go? ’ He asked.

‘ No ’

‘All my friends are in collefe’

‘ I’m really scarwd ’

The messages came in quick succession, increasingly frantic.

Starscream was starting to get a bit angry.

He remembered when he’d been thrown out by his family after he’d announced his plan to join the intellectual caste.

He remembered how everybody he knew had insisted on using military-caste pronouns for him, even when he was at the top of his class. Well, everyone except-

He remembered how he had been treated with revulsion by his peers, professors, government-

Needless to say, he was feeling more for this human in particular than he ever had for the entire rest of the species.

‘ Are you alright? ’ He asked, knowing full well that his little internet acquaintance was not. ‘ Are you safe? ’

No answer. He waited a minute.

Five minutes.

Fifteen minutes.

No answer.

A tingling sensation curled in the pit of his tanks, a mixture of anxiety and excitement. He knew that feeling intimately well.

It generally occurred before he was about to do something really, really stupid.

...

Now, Starscream was no Soundwave, but tracking the human’s IP address had been fairly easy.

What he hadn’t anticipated, however, was that Weedbaby69’s domicile would be in such a heavily populated area. In his defense, he had been in a hurry.

He regretted not double-checking when he was met with a rather busy neighborhood full of gawking, screaming humans upon exiting the groundbridge.

Ah, well- he could work with that.

He quickly spotted the rather small house that matched the address.

“How am I supposed to see who’s in there?!” He muttered to himself, crouching in front of a tiny window to peer in at the terrified inhabitants.

Stupid humans. So inconsiderate.

In retaliation for the ridiculous vermin being too small to properly handle, Starscream ripped a hole in the roof.

A trio of fleshlings gaped up at him.

“Which one of you is Weedbaby69?” He asked, eyeing them critically.

One of them screamed, and the other dropped something that shattered all over the floor, as if they had been about to throw it.

Starscream rolled his optics.

“I don’t have all day, you know,” he snapped. The Autobots would no doubt arrive at any minute.

The third one peered up at him with a tear-stained little face and raised a shaky servo.

“Excellent.” He grabbed the terrified teenager, opened the groundbridge, and strolled through- completely ignoring the chorus of horrified screaming he left in his wake, and the panicked struggling of his captive.

Mission successful! He mentally patted himself on the back for a job well done.

Chapter Text

“ Prime! ” Agent Fowler bellowed, marching up to the human-platform. “You need to fix your Starscream problem, ASAP!”

“What is wrong, Agent Fowler?” Optimus asked, bending down until his face was a mere few feet away from the human’s.

The Prime had a bad habit of invading people’s personal space on accident, and it seemed no one had the heart (or spark) to let him know.

Fowler didn’t budge.

“Your ‘Con kidnapped a teenager in Oklahoma fifteen minutes ago!” He shouted. “And blew his cover to the whole world! I thought you said you had a handle on him!”

Optimus’s optics widened, and he stepped back. Fowler felt a sort of tingling in the back of his brain, and broke out in goosebumps.

He knew from impromptu Cybertronian biology lessons that they tended to broadcast their emotions in a controlled electromagnetic field. Humans, though generally unaware of it, could sense them on occasion if the bot in question was feeling strongly enough.

At that moment, Optimus was feeling something that activated Fowler’s fight-or-flight response. Judging by the visible discomfort of the Autobots behind Prime, his assessment was fairly accurate.

The man still didn’t budge.

“Based on the footage I’ve seen, he has access to a groundbridge. Figure out what’s going on and fix it.” He took a deep, calming breath. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go tackle a mountain of paperwork. I’ll send you the reports once they’re released to me.”

“Thank you, Agent Fowler,” Optimus said, nodding respectfully. “Rest assured that I will do everything in my power to find the human.”

Fowler nodded back, ignoring the prickling  sensation at the base of his skull. He tried not to think about what the poor kid was going through, having been a victim of Starscream’s ‘tender mercies’ himself.

...

“Oh, would you stop that?!” Starscream snapped, looking distinctly unimpressed with the panicking human in his grasp. “I just saved you, a little appreciation is in order!”

Weedbaby69 hiccuped, shaking like a leaf, and stopped pounding ineffectually on his servo.

“Huh?” They asked, shrinking away from him. Starscream scoffed.

“Is human memory so poor that you can’t remember a conversation we had not half an hour ago?” Weedbaby69 blanched.

“Wait,” they said, staring up at him with dawning horror, “are you ‘Normalperson123?’”

Starscream cocked an optical ridge.

“Obviously. And here I thought you were smarter than that.” He placed them down on a comfortable-looking ledge. “Of course, my real name is Starscream, but I couldn’t put that out there- you may address me as ‘my lord,’ ‘your excellency,’ ‘his royal highness,’ or any variant thereof.”

The human gaped stupidly.

“Uh, cool,” they said. “My name’s Elizabeth.”

Ah, a she-name. Duly noted.

“Well, Human Elizabeth,” Starscream declared, gesturing grandly at nothing in particular, “consider this the dawn of your new life! I have released you from your shackles to society, and together we will forge a new path soaked in the blood of our enemies! We will amass a grand army that will crush anyone who stands in our way, and conquer everything in our path- What?”

Elizabeth lowered her politely raised hand.

“That sounds great and all, Mr. Starscream,” she said nervously, “but I’m not really down for the whole ‘imperialism’ thing. Do we have to do that?”

Starscream made a face like he’d bitten into a rotten lemon.

“ Yes! ” He snapped. “No more questions! Anyway-”

“I mean, killing and conquering is kind of... Bad,” Elizabeth continued, visibly sweating. “I’m sure there are plenty of normal, non-destructive outlets for your energy.”

Starscream blinked. He was certain Megatron hadn’t had such a difficult time recruiting people!

“What could possibly be more worthwhile than conquering the galaxy?!” Starscream shouted frustratedly at the ceiling.

Elizabeth flinched, and the seeker drew back a bit when he realized how that had come off. He reset his vocalizer, tucking his wings back.

“What I meant to say... Is that this is an opportunity,” he said slowly, pressing his servos together and leveling them at the teenager. “Think about it! Power, fame, glory- all of that! Don’t you want that?”

Elizabeth looked him up and down.

“Well, not at anybody else’s expense,” she replied. “Why do you even want to hurt people so badly?”

Starscream’s optics briefly went unfocused as all the slights of five million years replayed themselves in his processor.

“... not leaving these grounds until your form is perfect...”

“... utter disgrace to this household...”

“... scores must be forged, just look at him...”

“... do hereby sentence you to execution by firing squad...”

“... are you prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice?”

“... will be a miracle if you survive what I have planned-”

“Uh, hello?” Elizabeth asked, waving her little organic servos to get his attention. “You alright?”

Starscream realized he’d been staring into space for several seconds, and blinked.

“To answer your question,” he said primly, “I am motivated entirely by pure, unbridled bloodlust.”

Elizabeth looked at him like he’d just eaten a live cockroach right in front of her.

“... Neat,” she said.

Chapter Text

An hour after Starscream had confiscated Elizabeth, he was still struggling to convince the ungrateful whelp to join him.

“Seriously, there isn’t anything else you want to do with your life?!” She exclaimed incredulously, making dramatic gestures with her squishy little servos. “Come on, you’ve gotta at least have a hobby!”

Starscream, equally incredulous, squinted at her.

“I’m offering you everything, what more could you possibly want?!” He asked, furrowing his optical ridges. The human curled her lip in confused disgust.

“I don’t know, a little happiness, maybe?” She scrunched up her face thoughtfully. “And HRT.”

Starscream squinted harder.

“Power,” he said slowly, as if speaking to a toddler, “can buy you many HRTs.” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose.

“Why do you think it’s okay to hurt others for your own gain?!” Starscream blinked rapidly.

“Everybody does that, it’s nothing new!” He cried, throwing his arms up in the air.

Elizabeth shook her head vigorously, looking like Starscream had suggested she start shoveling dirt into her mouth, rather than a perfectly reasonable statement of fact.

“No?” She said. “That’s not how people generally work! ”

Starscream could see that they were going nowhere with this.

“Well, you’re wrong. We’re conquering the galaxy, and that’s final!” Elizabeth scowled at him.

“Oh, yeah? Who said you were in charge?”

“ Me! ” Starscream shouted, jabbing his thumb-digit at his chassis. Elizabeth didn’t waver.

“And why do you think you should say who’s in charge?”

Starscream wanted to blow something up.

“I’m older than you, bigger than you, and you owe me!” He exclaimed. Elizabeth crossed her arms.

“Oh, yeah- great way to determine whether or not someone is fit to lead.” She deadpanned. “You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my real dad!” Starscream grit his denta.

“I’m not anybody’s ‘dad,’ but in terms of authority figures I’m certainly better than your old ones!”

It was like he’d slapped her across the face (which he wouldn’t - she would probably go into shock and die like that large, grazing organic he’d accidentally kicked once).

Her optics got wetter, pooling with weird organic coolant, and her servos began to shake.

Starscream tensed.

“Wait, what are you doing? Stop that!”

Elizabeth slumped heavily against the wall and slid into a fetal position, pressing her squishy face into her blunt knees. Starscream heard a whine, and her shoulders started shaking.

Oh, frag. Really?

“Oh, calm down!” He snapped, crossing his arms impatiently. “You’re fine, now!”

Elizabeth just seemed to cry harder. Starscream was starting to panic.

“I’m serious! Stop being sad!” He looked around desperately, hoping for a magical solution to appear out of thin air. “That- that’s an order!”

As the humans put it, no dice. Ugh.

Fine.

“You stay there,” Starscream said, forgetting that she was on a rather high ledge and couldn’t actually go anywhere.

He hurried to his console and typed in ‘how to fix sad human.’

...

Soundwave couldn’t believe what he was seeing, but at the same time felt that he shouldn’t be surprised.

Out of all mecha in the universe, of course the one to ignore Starscream’s decision to avoid the humans would be Starscream himself.

Idiot.

‘ Lord Megatron, ’ he commed. ‘ News of Starscream. ’

Megatron, who was busy standing at the viewport and staring dramatically at Earth’s horizon, turned to face him with a raised optical ridge.

“Soundwave, unless it is of direct consequence to the Decepticons, I do not wish to hear it.”

Soundwave quietly resented that his lord would imply that he would ever waste his precious time on trivialities, but persisted.

‘ Information: highly significant. ’ He pinged back.

Megatron looked at him expectantly. Soundwave pulled up the news report on his console, drawing the attention of the entire bridge.

“... Not two hours ago, some sort of giant robot was spotted kidnapping a teenager in Ponca City, Oklahoma. According to eyewitness reports and footage of the incident, it entered through some sort of portal, smashed a hole in the house, and pulled him out.”

A shaky, grainy video appeared on the screen, and the sound of human screams filled the bridge.

There Starscream was, in all his stupid, stupid glory.

Megatron looked a combination of disgusted and surprised.

“The abductee is eighteen-year-old Jonathan Smith, and his parents have neglected to comment. A spokesman from the Department of-”

Soundwave switched the feed off, and Inclined his head at Megatron in a sort of ‘I-told-you-so’ gesture.

The warlord growled, turning back to face the viewport.

“Find him,” he commanded. “Bring him back alive. I’m going to rip off his wings and toss him in a smelter.”

Soundwave nodded, and resumed his work.

...

This time, Starscream knew he was bridging into a highly populated area, so the shocked screaming and camera flashes were of little concern to him- he was entirely focused on his target.

Ah, Malwart. The human market that sold everything.

Conveniently, it was almost as tall as he was. He tore out a huge chunk of the wall and hunched to get inside, tucking his wings close to his chassis.

Immediately, his crest bumped into a light fixture, breaking it.

“Ow!” He hissed, ducking further. Stupid human architecture and its pathetic size.

He waved dismissively at the few humans without the good sense to get out of his way.

“What are you looking at?!” He snapped. “Shoo! ”

That seemed to do the trick. Excellent.

His first priority was food. He grabbed an entire cart of dead organic vegetation and put it in his subspace. He walked a little further, tipped a shelf over, and collected what fell onto the floor. Not too far away, he spotted racks of colorful human drapery-

“ Starscream! ” Bellowed Optimus Prime from outside.

Oh, frag. Scrap, scrap, scrap, scrap, scrap.

He grabbed an armful of the human fabrics, activated his groundbridge, and scurried through as quickly as he could.

He could hear the Autobots shouting behind him as he closed the bridge, slumping against the wall of the Harbinger in relief.

Mission accomplished.

...

Arcee and Bumblebee, being the only two on the team who could fit into a human supermarket comfortably, skidded to a stop when Starscream’s groundbridge closed.

Bumblebee beeped curses. Arcee frustratedly activated her comms.

“We lost him,” she said tiredly.

Suddenly, she was aware of the multitude of human eyes on her. A phone camera flashed. She froze.

“Uh,” she said, “nothing to see here. Bye.”

She transformed and sped out as fast as her wheels could take her. Bumblebee, being a car and thus more likely to run into someone in a confined space, was left to sprint behind her.

...

“I have returned!” Starscream announced, striding proudly into old the storage room he’d left Elizabeth in.

Thankfully, the human had stopped crying, but she still looked absolutely miserable. Starscream carefully scooped her into his servos, causing her to yelp.

He brought her into the console room and deposited her on a counter next to the massive pile of provisions he’d accumulated. Elizabeth gawked.

“There,” Starscream said proudly. “Now, you are obligated to stop being sad.”

Elizabeth looked between him and the pile, then smiled.

“Thanks,” she said. “I really appreciate- Oh, are those dresses?”

She ran to the pile of clothing with a squeal.

Starscream, not knowing what a dress was, had no idea what she was talking about.

“Okay, it’s official: I would die for you!” She hugged a particularly sparkly garment, stroking it lovingly.

Starscream blinked, unsure of how to respond to such an enthusiastic declaration of loyalty.

“... I see,” he said.

Perhaps he had found his bargaining chip.

Chapter Text

“So, what even are you?” Elizabeth asked the next morning, having emerged from the pile of clothing she was using as a makeshift bed.

Starscream paused in sorting his fuel into (admittedly, probably too small) rations.

“Oh- I’m a seeker,” he said.

He didn’t elaborate, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Elizabeth furrowed her eyebrows.

“So, you find things?” She asked. Starscream spluttered.

“No! Where would you get that idea?!” Elizabeth gave him a deadpan stare, which didn’t seem to translate. “Seekers are the fastest flying frametype in Cybertron, generally members of the military caste.”

“Wait, so there are more of you?” She asked. Starscream’s expression fell.

“Well, there used to be, back before the war,” he muttered.

“War?!” Elizabeth looked more confused than ever. “Where do you even come from?”

Starscream cast her a sideways glance.

“Cybertron.”

Silence.

“I don’t know where that is,” Elizabeth said flatly.

Starscream gestured somewhere over his head, screwing his face up in thought.

“Somewhere on the other side of the galaxy, I think.” He frowned. “Or perhaps the next one over? Haven’t been there in ages, I can’t quite remember.”

Elizabeth gaped.

“You’re an alien?!” She shouted. Starscream furrowed his optical ridges.

“Did I forget to tell you all that?” He asked.

“ Yes! ” Starscream‘s wings fell sheepishly.

“... Oops.”

“You owe me so many answers!” Elizabeth exclaimed.

A terrible smile worked its way across Starscream’s face. He never turned down an opportunity to talk about himself.

“Well,” he began, “it all started when I was wrongly imprisoned for murder...”

Elizabeth gaped, mouthing ‘ what? ’ Starscream didn’t notice, too wrapped up in his life’s story.

“I was freed in a prison break, and soon after began my glorious and successful military career...”

He just kept talking, throwing all sorts of weird bullshit up into the air as if were completely mundane. Elizabeth struggled to wrap her head around it.

The whole thing lasted an hour.

“So, let me get this straight,” the teenager said finally, rubbing her temples. “You’re an alien war criminal that turns into an airplane and is currently enemies with all the other aliens on this planet, except you can’t fly right now because a secret group of human terrorists you were working with because you’re running out of food stole the organ that lets you do that.”

“Yes,” Starscream replied with a completely straight face. Elizabeth took a deep breath.

“Why were you on tumblr?!” The seeker hunched a bit.

“I was lonely,” he muttered. Elizabeth’s eyes widened.

“Wait,” she whimpered, “you’re not going to try to cut off my feet, are you?”

Starscream frowned at her.

“What on Primus’s rusty rear end is a feet?” He asked.

“I’m not telling you, I’m afraid of what you’ll do to them,” Elizabeth replied, crossing her arms.

“Whatever,” Starscream grumbled, returning to his task.

...

The kids were all huddled around Raf’s computer like it was a heat lamp in the Arctic, a sight that had become as familiar as it was concerning to the bots. They couldn’t help themselves- piecing together the mystery that was Starscream had become their new favorite hobby.

Currently, they were over-analyzing one of his older rants. Raf had a notebook in his lap, writing down possible meanings for the intentionally vague complaints in the diatribe. Jack was murmuring ideas to him, pointing at various lines in the near-solid wall of text.

Miko was, for once, mostly silent as she tried to picture Starscream as a sympathetic figure. It was taking awhile.

“Hey, Miko,” Bulkhead called, approaching the platform with a worried expression. “Wanna go for a ride?”

She looked up from her lap, then to the two boys next to her, and shrugged.

“Sure,” she said.

Wordlessly, she stepped into his outstretched servo.

Neither of them said anything until they were out on the open road.

“Hey, Bulk,” she asked, leaning despondently against his door, “what do you do if you find out someone who sucks isn’t a complete jerk? How do you know it isn’t fake?”

Bulkhead’s frame seemed to sink on its suspension as he let out a long sigh.

“Aw, Miko,” he said, “people are complicated. Optimus says there’s a little good in everyone.”

The teenager frowned.

“Well, what do you think?” Bulkhead hummed.

“Well, honestly... I think some people are just plain scrap,” he replied. “I’m pretty sure there ain’t any good left in Megatron, or Starscream, or any of the other Decepticons. I’ve seen them do a lot of awful things.”

Miko frowned, letting her face squish against the window.

“But, what if one of them started being less of a jerk?” She asked, wringing her hands in her lap.

She remembered Starscream’s hands- big enough to hold her, Jack, and Raf with room to spare, grabbing at her in the dark while she barely had the energy to get away...

“... Well, I guess it would depend on the ‘con,” Bulkhead replied. “You been having trouble with someone lately?”

Miko snapped out of her reverie.

“Um, not really? I don’t know.” She pushed off the window and flopped back against her seat. “This guy’s just a butt. And lately I found out a couple things about him, and now I feel kind of bad for him, but I still hate him.”

Bulkhead pulled up to the edge of a cliff, let his passenger out, and transformed back into root mode. He took a seat, letting his legs hang over the side. Miko joined him, leaning against his side.

They stared at the horizon in silence.

“You know,” Bulkhead said, glancing down at his charge, “you don’t have to forgive everyone. Not even if they apologize. It’s okay to not like this guy, even if he’s going through some scrap.”

Miko thought about that, feeling the knot in her stomach unclench somewhat. She nodded.

“Okay,” she said. “Thanks, Bulk.”

They sat there a moment longer, before Miko abruptly jumped to her feet.

“This is boring, wanna go try dune jumping again?” Bulkhead laughed, transforming and opening a door for her.

“Sounds awesome!”

Miko cheered, and the radio started blasting heavy metal as they disappeared through a groundbridge.

Chapter Text

“Starscream, no!” Elizabeth exclaimed, pulling at her messy hair. “That’s, like, five more mouths to feed!”

Starscream glared at her sharply, swaying a bit on his pedes. Starvation  was not doing him any favors.

“Shaddup! It’s a great plan, a brilliant plan!” He chuckled darkly. “Who better to entrust with the disposal of Megatron than me?” He turned on his heel and staggered his way to the room with the protoforms.

Elizabeth clambered down from the table she was on using a makeshift rope made of ill-fitting clothes.

“Hey!” She called, chasing after him. “Get back here! This is a bad idea! ”

After about a week of living with Starscream, Elizabeth had come to one conclusion: the guy needed help. Like, serious, professional help.

Unfortunately, seeing as there weren’t any spare robot therapists lying around, Elizabeth herself would have to suffice as a voice of reason.

She evidently wasn’t doing a very good job.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, you infant!” Starscream slurred, waving a servo dismissively at her. “I’ve been doing plans like this a long time!”

He pricked one of his arms and got to work, mumbling to himself about ‘stabbing,’ and ‘armadas.’

Elizabeth gave up, returning to the table she’d claimed in the storage room.

...

Fifteen minutes later, Starscream came trudging back to her with a scowl.

“Did it not work?” Elizabeth asked, trying not to sound too eager. Starscream slumped into a seat, pouting.

“Oh, it worked,” he muttered. “And they all got t-cogs!”

Elizabeth hummed sympathetically.

“You know, you could use them to kidnap a medic and make them help you,” she suggested nonchalantly, picking at her nails.

Starscream’s head swiveled towards her so quickly she thought it would fall off.

“What?” He said in a small voice. Elizabeth shrugged.

“Yeah, I mean it’s not like you’re going to really hurt anybody, right?” She paused. “Wait- please don’t hurt anybody, that would make me cry again, and I know that makes you freak out- what?”

Starscream was gaping at her.

“Holy slag, that’s actually a good idea,” he murmured, then his optics widened. “Oh, scrap-”

Suddenly, he doubled over with a blood-curdling scream. Elizabeth scrambled over to the edge of the table.

“Starscream?!” She shrieked.

After an agonizing few seconds, Starscream uncurled with a haunted look in his optics.

“Well,” Starscream croaked, “I suppose I learned two things: one, I can feel their pain. Two,” he shuddered, “one of them is definitely dead.”

Elizabeth gaped in horror.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” She asked, shimmying down her cloth-rope and running to his pedes.

Starscream’s gaze had gone unfocused,  until he blinked and looked down at her.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that,” he said. Elizabeth wrung her hands anxiously.

“I asked if you were okay,” she said. He blinked again, frowning.

“Well, yes,” he replied. “It’s the ones on the Nemesis you should be worried about. They don’t seem inclined to return.”

Elizabeth felt a knot begin to form in the pit of her stomach.

“Wait, why?” She asked. Starscream growled.

“They kept insisting that they were too close to killing him to quit,” he grumbled. “Stubborn idiots.”

Elizabeth stared at him.

“Wow,” she deadpanned. “That sounds so frustrating. You must be really upset.”

Starscream didn’t seem to get it.

“I know, right?” He complained, then offered a servo for her to climb up on. “See, you get it. This is why you’re my favorite.” He deposited her on the console next to him, then gently ruffled her (admittedly, in need of a wash) hair with a digit tip.

Elizabeth sighed, feeling her frustration slip away. It was nice to have an authority figure that seemed to like everything she did- a definite upgrade from the nitpicking and vitriol she’d had to put up with from her parents.

“... Even if you’re going through some sort ‘pacifism’ phase,” Starscream continued, smiling condescendingly. “I’m sure you’ll grow out of it.”

Elizabeth glared at him. The patronizing attitude she could definitely do without, however.

“I’m an adult,” she said flatly. Starscream cackled, doubling over and slapping his knee.

“Oh, that’s cute,” he howled. “You’re not even a vorn old! ”

“How long is vorn?” Elizabeth asked.

“Oh, about eighty-three years,” Starscream replied, wiping coolant from his optics. The teenager blinked.

“Uh, Starscream? That’s... About the average human lifespan,” she said. The seeker froze, smiling into empty air.

“Wait, what- augh!” He fell out of his chair and curled up in ball, hacking and convulsing.

From her perch on the console, Elizabeth screamed.

...

The metal of the ground felt warm against Starscream’s pedes, an odd sensation for one who had spent his whole life above the clouds in the chilly spires of Vos. The city glittered in the distance, beckoning Starscream back to safety.

His cooling fans were at their highest setting as he fought not to collapse. He failed and fell to his knees with a clang.

Flying a complicated obstacle course full of tunnels, automated blasters, and pre-programmed drones multiple times had completely exhausted him, and he hadn’t refueled since he’d been dragged out of berth early that morning.

“Again!” Silverstreak barked, marching over to his creation and pulling him up by his wings. Starscream yelped at the rough handling of such sensitive appendages.

“I don’t- I don’t think I can keep going,” he slurred, stumbling sideways. “It’s been hours.”

“Don’t be lazy,” Silverstreak spat, shoving Starscream back towards the course. “I was more agile than this when I was still carrying you! War doesn’t give you time for a break and a refuel!”

“Maybe that’s why I came out so small,” Starscream muttered, feeling too weighed down to even try continue. His fuel levels were in the red, and his internals were in danger of overheating.

“Your size only means that you should be faster and more flexible than... Whatever that was!” Silverstreak waved his servo towards the course with a disgusted expression. “You are not leaving these grounds until your form is perfect!”

Starscream scowled at him.

“I really can’t do it again!” He protested. “I’m going to go into stasis!”

Silverstreak grabbed him by the jaw, digging his claws into the mesh of Starscream’s face. The younger seeker shrank in fear, pinning his wings to his back.

Silverstreak was slender, but he was still more heavily-built than his stunted creation. He his height advantage to loom over Starscream.

“You are going to finish that course, and you are going to do it with impeccable form- just the way I taught you,” he growled, “or I will be having words with your sire about all the time you waste watching those stupid little holodramas of yours that could be used for practice.”

He released Starscream, who sullenly rubbed his jaw.

As inane as it sounded, Starscream needed those scraps of free time he was allowed between training and recharge. They were the only thing- besides Thundercracker and Skywarp, of course- that kept him sane.

As exhausted as he was, he had to make this work.

“ Fine, ” he sighed.

He leapt into the air and transformed, aiming to navigate through the first narrow tunnel, pushing his thrusters to their limits and burning through what little fuel he had left.

He was scant meters away when the blinking notifications on his HUD flashed and disappeared, taking the rest of his visual feed with them.

Starscream barely had the presence of mind to transform before he crashed face-first onto the ground, having fallen into stasis.

...

When the horrible, agonizing pain of what was definitely Megatron’s ire faded, Starscream felt something small and soft resting on his face.

He onlined his optics (he hadn’t even realized that they were off) to see Elizabeth’s tear-stained countenance leaning over him. She had pressed one of her little servos to his forehead, as if trying to shake him awake.

That was when he realized that he was splayed across the floor with all the dignity of a rusted old dump truck, and quickly sat up and composed himself.

They stared at each other.

“Are you alright?” Elizabeth asked, wiping at one of her optics.

Starscream felt a weird clenching sensation in his spark at the knowledge that she was genuinely worried about him. He decided to ignore it.

“Yes,” he said. “I think the clones all died.”

Elizabeth ran to his side and pressed her body up against his waist with open arms.

“... What are you doing?” Starscream asked, unsettled by the feeling of a warm, squishy organism on his sparsely-armored middle.

“Giving you a hug,” Elizabeth croaked.

“Ah.”

She was getting salt-fluids all over his armor, but Starscream let her be. He’d wipe them off later.

Chapter Text

As it turned out, one of Starscream’s clones had survived.

He strutted in wearing an expression he was all too familiar with, probably fully intending to try to kill him (laughable- Starscream refused to die), took one look at Elizabeth’s sad little face, and stopped.

“What did you do?!” He screeched, gesturing at her. Starscream scowled.

“Me? If you idiots had come back like I told you to, you wouldn’t have scared her!” There was no way he was letting this clone know he could feel his pain, not when he obviously wished him harm.

“This is so fucking weird,” Elizabeth said, looking between the two of them. “Also, stop arguing- you are literally the same person!”

Starscream wanted desperately to argue with that, but one glance at his clone revealed that he was wearing a similarly mulish expression, so he shut up. Elizabeth turned to him.

“Anyway, do you think you can kidnap a medic with only one other guy?” She asked.

Starscream stiffened.

“Oh, yes- we have a plan!” He announced.

The clone raised an optical ridge.

“What sort of plan?” He asked suspiciously.

Elizabeth grinned.

...

‘ This is trooper 45-B7 requesting reinforcements in mine 5-T56. We are under attack! ’

Soundwave sent commands to a squadron of Eradicons, then opened a comm channel with his liege.

‘ Mine 5-T56: Under attack. ’ Megatron grunted.

“I see,” he replied. “By whom?”

Soundwave connected to the on-site cameras and displayed the pertinent visual feed on his visor.

Two Starscreams- one shooting and one gathering resources as quickly as he could subspace them.

Megatron saw red.

“Starscream,” he growled, clenching his servos into fists. “Soundwave, bridge me in. It’s time I dealt with this pest- permanently.”

...

Starscream finished subspacing as much energon as he could reasonably carry just as an Eradicon (thankfully in root-mode) collapsed nearby.

“I found one!” He hollered over the din. The clone rolled his optics.

“Make it quick!” He replied, kicking a vehicon in the neck in a flare of dramatic confidence Starscream himself hadn’t demonstrated since the war had shown him that fighting quick and dirty was the only way to survive. “It won’t take much more for them to overwhelm us!”

Starscream sighed. Of course the idiot would announce it to the world like that. He scrambled over to the dead Eradicon and lifted it over his shoulders.

A bridge opened.

“Great,” the clone griped, pulling his claws out of the chassis of another drone. “Not more!”

“Starscream!” Bellowed a horribly, horribly familiar voice. “I am going to rip you to shreds!”

Starscream and his clone froze.

“Get the remote!” Starscream screeched. “Go, go, go!”

The clone clumsily unsubspaced the groundbridge remote and activated it with shaky servos.

Megatron emerged from his own bridge, and seethed at their attempt to escape.

“ Coward! ” He roared.

Starscream sprinted through, tossing the dead frame in front of him and leaping the rest of the way. His clone blasted past him in alt-mode, transforming and closing the bridge just before Megatron could reach them.

The last thing they could see before it blinked out of existence was the warlord’s enraged snarl.

They both stared breathlessly at the empty air for a moment before Starscream doubled over in laughter.

“Did- did you see his stupid face?” He wheezed. “He’s so mad, and he can’t even do anything about it!”

The clone, markedly less addled by starvation, chuckled.

“That was rather amusing,” he agreed.

“Oh, we are so dead!” Starscream cackled. His clone frowned.

“Go get some fuel, you lunatic,” he said, then gestured at the crumpled remains of the Eradicon. “I’ll get the t-cog.”

Starscream stumbled off, giggling.

...

“Optimus,” Ratchet called over his shoulder.

“Yes, old friend?” The Prime asked, approaching the console the medic was working at.

“We’re being hailed... By Starscream.” The atmosphere abruptly tensed. “He says he has the human, and he wants me to come alone.”

Suddenly, Optimus’s field erupted, permeating the space around him with heavy, oppressive anger. He was a big mech, and it reached far enough that the children fidgeted uncomfortably on their platform. Ratchet shuddered.

Sometimes, it was easy to forget what the Prime was capable of. Even after all this time, it was difficult to wrap his processor around the fact that little Orion, the mild-mannered archivist, was now capable of taking on Megatron himself.

Not that Ratchet blamed him for his rare display of murderous rage. No, the medic was also slagged to the Pit about it.

As much as he scorned humans, he really did want to protect them. Raf’s dark energon incident came to mind, bringing with it a wave of shame and anger.

Jonathan didn’t deserve to die- and Ratchet was going to do everything in his power to prevent that from happening, even if it meant helping Starscream.

“I’ll do it,” he said. Optimus stiffened.

“I cannot allow-”

“-Any humans to come to harm, Optimus,” Ratchet finished for him. “We both know what could happen, should Jonathan prove to be an ineffective bargaining chip.”

Optimus’s face remained impassive, but he didn’t stop Ratchet from gathering his supplies.

...

Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably in Starscream’s grip, looking around the creepy forest they had chosen to wait in.

“Could you... Maybe loosen it up?” She asked, squirming again. “This is really freaky.”

Starscream brought his other servo under her feet, and his grip went slack. The teenager landed on his outstretched palm with a yelp.

“Better?” He asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “Thanks.”

The seeker glanced down at her.

“Remember- let me do the talking. Just be quiet and look scared.” Elizabeth pouted.

“I wanna be hammy!” She whined. At Starscream’s confused expression, she continued, “Y’know, chewing the scenery? Over the top? Dramatic?”

Starscream raised an optical ridge.

“... I will permit a reasonable amount of ham,” he conceded. Elizabeth grinned.

“ Yes! ” She did a victorious little wiggle-dance.

A groundbridge opened a short distance away, admitting one Autobot medic. Starscream took the teenager into one servo again.

Elizabeth stared. She’d gotten used to Starscream, but this was a completely different giant alien. He was stockier, with wheels instead of wings, and wore white and orange paint. It almost looked like he was wearing a helmet of some sort.

“Good evening, Doctor,” Starscream purred. The medic fumed.

“Starscream,” he spat. For a moment, Elizabeth felt bad about her plan- he clearly didn’t want her to get hurt. “Put him down!”

Starscream blinked in confusion. Elizabeth frowned.

Logically, she knew that the medic didn’t know her real pronouns, but she still hated to be misgendered. Not to mention, Starscream had grown on  her- and she knew this guy had tried to leave him to die in the past.

She didn’t like that, either.

“Oh, thank god!” She cried, putting on her most absolutely distraught face. “He’s crazy- just do what he says, please!” She managed to shed a few Tears of Anguish by thinking about dead puppies.

Thank you, drama class.

Ratchet transformed out his blades, scowling. Starscream chuckled darkly.

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” came a voice from the foliage. The clone emerged from the shadows, both his blasters trained on Ratchet.

The medic froze, looking sick.

Starscream unsunspaced the t-cog, tossing into the air and catching it with a smug grin.

“Here’s how this is going to work, Doctor,” he sneered. “You are going to restore my flight capabilities, under my associate’s supervision, or I’m going to start squeezing.” He tensed his servo around Elizabeth for emphasis, and the girl let out a dramatic, blood-curdling scream.

The seeker spared her a concerned glance.

“Jesus, is that you?” Elizabeth wailed at the sky.

Ratchet looked murderous.

“Tick-tock, Autobot,” the clone mocked from behind him, stepping closer. “Better get to work. Imagine what would happen if the Prime were to lose his only medic.” He pressed the barrel of his blaster against Ratchet’s back, right over the location of his spark chamber.

Ratchet reluctantly put his blades back.

“... Fine,” he said defeatedly, shoulders slumping.

“Excellent,” Starscream purred.

Chapter Text

Handing Elizabeth off to the clone had been an awkward affair, involving circling around Ratchet at a radius well outside of grabbing distance and a good deal of threatening and screaming to keep the medic still.

He was half expecting the clone to take off and leave him there, but he had no choice but to trust him- he needed  the sky so badly that he felt like his spark was going to burn through his plating.

Denying any flier their birthright was an unparalleled act of cruelty. One he had dealt with before, and built up a tolerance to (Megatron was nothing if not sadistically creative), but awful all the same.

To his immense relief, he came out of medical stasis to the sight of Ratchet’s resigned face looming over him, field laced with anger and despair.

He sat up, transformed his servos into blasters, then returned them to normal.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He purred. Ratchet glared.

“You’re evil,” he said darkly, “and one day someone’s going to put you down like the animal you are.”

Starscream tsked, moving into a crouch. He rested an arm on one of his knees.

“Manners, Doctor,” he chided, crooking one digit under the medic’s chin and tilting his head up. “I thought you Autobots were supposed to be more well-behaved.”

Ratchet scowled. Starscream leered.

The clone loudly reset his vocalizer.

“Ew, are you flirting with him?” Elizabeth shouted. “Right in front of the whole world and god?”

Ratchet sneered in disgust. Starscream shot her a Look.

“Prisoners don’t make implications about their dangerous captors,” he said pointedly. Elizabeth muted it, but her expression told him that she was far from finished making fun of him.

“I am never doing that to any of my enemies again,” the clone muttered. Starscream scowled at him.

“Starscream, you got what you wanted,” Ratchet snapped. “Just give me Jonathan and go.”

The two seekers shared a look, then burst into laughter.

“One,” Starscream said, “I don’t know who you think this human is, but her name is Elizabeth. And two... Well, it would be rather foolish of me to get rid of such a useful asset, wouldn’t you agree?”

Ratchet’s optics widened.

“Wait-”

Starscream’s clone transformed around Elizabeth, rocketing into the atmosphere. Ratchet snarled, bringing out his blades.

“So long, Doctor!” Starscream crowed.

Before Ratchet could do anything, the seeker was high in the air.

...

When they reached the Harbinger , Elizabeth emerged from the clone’s cockpit looking quite ill. She flopped flat on her back as soon as she was deposited on a table.

“Please,” she croaked, “never do a barrel roll with me inside again.” The clone snorted.

“That was an aileron roll,” he corrected, rolling his optics. “A barrel roll probably would have killed you.”

Starscream gently scooped the human up, holding her away from his clone.

“Don’t damage her, you idiot!” He snapped. “Lieutenant Elizabeth has more than earned a reward, I would say.”

The teenager sat up and squealed.

“Ohmygod, can I have makeup? I’ve never worn makeup before!”

Starscream’s face brightened in recognition.

“Oh, you mean the human-paint?” He tousled her hair with his digit-tip. “Of course! I reward loyalty from my subordinates!”

The clone reset his vocalizer.

“Then I believe a little ‘thanks’ are in order for keeping the Autobot in check,” he snapped. Starscream blinked at him.

“Oh- yes,” he said. “... Thank you.”

They shared optic contact for a few seconds, sizing each other up, before the clone turned away.

“Of course,” he replied dismissively. “We are as one.”

A small smile crept across Starscream’s faceplates before he could stop it.

“Makeup! Makeup! Makeup!” Elizabeth chanted, wearing a wide grin. Starscream rolled his optics fondly.

“Yes, yes- let me access the Azamon.”

...

Ratchet returned to the base looking very, very sick.

“Starscream got away,” he said before anybody could ask questions. “He took the human with him.”

The atmosphere of the base became heavy and quiet, and Team Prime stared at him in horror. Optimus’s field crackled and lashed out before he could stop it, causing everyone in the room to flinch.

The Prime grimaced, and approached Ratchet.

“Are you harmed?” He asked, resting a gentle servo on the medic’s shoulder. Ratchet shook his head. “What happened?”

“He’s- he’s got this clone...”

Optimus’s face remained impassive as Ratchet reported the incident, field neutral and withdrawn. He guided his friend over to the berth in the medbay and gently pushed him to sit down. Ratchet did so without thinking about it, too wrapped up in his guilt to really notice.

“... And now, there are two of him running around fully armed with a helpless captive, because I failed to stop him,” the medic finished. Optimus hummed.

“There was nothing you could have done that wouldn’t have risked the human’s safety,” he said.

Ratchet’s antenna was completely withdrawn into his chassis.

“I could have tried harder,” he insisted.

Up on the catwalk, three guilty faces peered over the railing.

...

The next day, the children all sat at the same table in the corner for lunch. Miko snorted as she scrolled through tumblr on her laptop.

“I can’t believe they’re calling the ‘bots a ‘military experiment,’” she said disdainfully, using air quotes. “It’s so weird to see pictures of them all over the place online.”

Jack grunted. Raf looked positively miserable.

Miko frowned at her two friends, desperately searching for something to cheer them up.

“... Wanna send Starscream Anon hate again?” She asked. Jack made a face, and Raf stared at the table despondently.

They hadn’t returned to Starscream’s blog since the incident between him and Ratchet, feeling guilty for feeling anything for the seeker at all. It was as if Miko had broken some unspoken rule between the three of them just by bringing it up.

“C’mon,” she goaded, elbowing jack playfully in the ribs. “You know you want to! We might even make him cry!”

Jack pulled away with a scowl.

“I don’t want to think about Starscream right now, Miko,” he snapped. The girl frowned at him.

“Fine, whatever. I was only trying to lighten the mood.” She returned to her laptop sulkily. “ I’m gonna do it .”

“Cool,” said Jack. Raf was still staring at the table, poking at his food with a fork.

Party poopers.

She found Starscream’s blog, already composing a scathing dressing-down that was sure to make him curl up in a ball and cry about his pathetic life (she could see it already- he probably sounded like a baby), when the most recent post caught her eye.

‘Tfw you get disowned by your shitty transphobic parents and then adopted by two really tall weird dads in less two weeks,’ said some rando called Weedbaby69, with a picture of a football player saying ‘they had us in first half.’

‘Elizabeth, I am not your father,’ Starscream had replied. ‘Neither of us are your ‘dad.’’

‘Shhhhhhhhhh,’ Weedbaby69 said, ‘youre my dad now no refunds.’

‘You were not acquired through a transaction, and even if you were I would not give you back!’

‘Lmao see??? You’re totally my dad.’

‘I am your COMMANDING OFFICER-’

The argument continued for awhile. Miko’s jaw dropped.

“Oh my god,” she whispered. The boys looked up from their moping.

“What?” Raf asked.

Miko shoved the computer at them.

“Dudes, we totally got duped!” She exclaimed.

Chapter Text

The next day, Ratchet still looked positively awful. He was entirely focused on fixing something with lots of twisted wires, having skipped out on recharge the night before.

The Autobots walked on eggshells around him, careful not to upset or anger the medic. The last thing they needed was another spiral.

Unfortunately, such abnormally cautious behavior only made it worse.

“ Bulkhead! ” Ratchet snapped, slapping the wrecker’s servo away from a tangle delicate equipment. “Don’t touch anything!”

“Sorry, Doc,” Bulkhead replied sheepishly, “just wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help.”

Ratchet scoffed and leveled him with a scornful glance.

“Puh-lease,” he sneered. “The most helpful thing you can do right now is find a less breakable environment!”

Bulkhead held up his servos in surrender, backing out of the room. Ratchet huffed agitatedly and returned to his work.

The kids watched tensely from their platform.

“I’m not telling him,” Raf murmured fearfully. Jack glared at him.

“ Seriously- ”

“Nose goes!” Miko tapped the tip of her nose with her index finger. Raf quickly copied her. Jack raised his eyebrows.

“Are you kidding me?” He hissed. “This is so immature.”

“Cranky ‘cause you have to tell Doc-Bot he got played, aren’t you?” Miko teased smugly, pushing him at the railing.

Jack tried not to pout. He was seventeen years old, he did not pout.

“Why are you pouting, Jackson?” Ratchet asked, giving him a side glance. The boy stiffened.

“Nothing,” he said quickly. “We’re just... Worried about you.”

Ratchet stared at the trio a moment, before turning back to his work with a grunt.

“I’m fine,” he muttered.

“Okay,” Jack said awkwardly. “Cool!”

He scurried back to the couch, and Miko slugged him in the arm.

“Chicken!” She hissed.

“Ow- hey!”

Ratchet turned back around.

“What are you three doing?” He asked incredulously.

“Miko punched me in the arm,” Jack said. The girl threw her hands in the air.

“Wow! A chicken and a snitch!” Ratchet stared the three humans down.

“If you don’t cut it out, I’ll put you on a high ledge until Optimus comes back,” he warned. Miko snorted.

“No, you won’t!” She said. “He had to stop you from bubble-wrapping the stairs!”

Ratchet didn’t reply to that, silently pressing his mouth into a thin line. Miko marched up to the railing and jabbed a finger at him.

“If you’re so mad at Starscream, quit being a mopey jerk and do something about it!” The medic clenched his fists.

“What am I supposed to do?!” He asked. Miko rolled her eyes.

“He’s got a blog,” she suggested, raising her eyebrows. “Duh.”

Ratchet huffed.

“His blog hasn’t offered us any insight into his activities,” he replied. “It’s useless!”

“Oh, yeah?” Miko challenged. “When was the last time you checked it?”

Ratchet went silent again.

“... Fine,” he said, turning to the console. “I guess it’s better than nothing.”

Miko flashed Jack and Raf a smug smile over her shoulder.

Raf offered her a thumbs up.

“ Two trucks, having sex!

Two trucks, having sex!

My muscles, my muscles, involuntarily flex! ”

The kids stiffened, looking to the console. Ratchet was absolutely horrified, and paused the video before it could go any further.

Miko collapsed onto the couch in a fit of badly-concealed cackling. Raf frowned, and Jack wrinkled his nose.

“What is wrong with him?!” Ratchet exclaimed. He scrolled down.

‘This reminds me of the porn collection of someone I know,’ Starscream had commented.

“Nope,” the medic decided, and exited the blog. “Never again.”

Miko was too busy laughing to notice that her plan had failed.

...

“Elizabeth, are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Starscream asked, eyeing his charge as she struggled with her makeup.

“Oh, yeah,” Elizabeth replied, waving dismissively. “I’ve watched, like, so many tutorials online. I got this!”

She cursed as she accidentally drew an uneven line with the liquid eyeliner, drawing another one over top of it and then moving to the next eye to even them out.

It was the fifth time she’d had to do so, and she was starting to look like a panda.

“... Okay,” Starscream said.

“Fuck!” Elizabeth hissed, accidentally flicking the eyeliner pen upwards to her eyebrows, leaving a stark line. “You know what? Eyeliner sucks, anyway!”

She tossed it off the table and grabbed the makeup wipes, shoving them into the broken ventilation system when they became too dirty to keep using.

The Harbinger, sadly, did not come with trash cans.

“I don’t understand why you don’t just spread the stuff all over your face, instead,” the clone said with a raised optical ridge. “You can hardly even tell that it’s there!”

“That’s the point,” Elizabeth said. “It tricks people into thinking you’re prettier.”

Starscream snorted.

“Humans all look the same, anyway,” he said. “And none of you are ‘pretty.’”

Elizabeth glared at him.

“... But you are prettier than all the other humans,” Starscream hastily amended, laughing awkwardly. He glanced around. “When was the last time you fueled? Go consume sustenance! Shoo!”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and climbed down the rope ladder Starscream had stolen from a public playground, jumping the last few feet to the floor. She looked up at the two identical mechs.

“You are the prettiest robots,” she declared. Starscream and his clone burst into cackles.

“Oh, oh no-” cried the clone.

“I’m not pretty, I’m intimidating!” Starscream said, wiping coolant from the corners of his optics.

“Knockout is pretty,” the clone added. “I don’t particularly care about those sorts of things.”

Starscream’s head swiveled towards his lookalike so fast he could have broken the sound barrier.

“Wait, what?” He wheezed, optics going wide. “Why would you say that out loud?!”

“Oh, shut it!” The clone replied, waving him off. “I mean, aesthetically speaking-”

“ No! ”

“- He’s attractive!” The clone paused. “Well. For a grounder.”

Starscream looked like he’d been dunked in a bucket of ice water.

“Who’s Knockout?” Elizabeth interrupted. “Also, what’s a grounder?”

“Knockout is weird and annoying, and grounders don’t fly,” Starscream answered absently, giving his clone a death glare.

“Am I a grounder, then?”

“ What? ” Starscream looked at her incredulously. “No, you’re an organic!”

“Go eat your food,” the clone added.

Elizabeth shook her head and left. Behind her, the argument continued.

“Oh, come on! It’s not like I want to frag him or anything-”

“How can you say he’s attractive when you’ve seen his taste in porn?!”

“Ha! So you admit that he has aesthetic appeal!”

“Dump trucks, Starscream! Dump trucks!”

“You haven’t denied it, Starscream!”

“Dump trucks fragging other dump trucks!” A pause. “On top of a shuttle!”

“But aesthetically-”

“Too shiny, and also too short-”

“We both know you’re making that up-”

“ Why is this the hill you’re willing to die on?! ”

“Shut up! I’m always right!”

“You’re full of slag!”

Elizabeth sat in the corner, munching on a bag of prepackaged popcorn as she recorded them with her phone.

“God, I wish I could post this,” she muttered.

“Fine! He’s not ugly!” Starscream snapped. “Better than Shockwave, at least.”

The clone snorted. Starscream shot him a warning glare.

“ Please , darling!” He crowed. “You liked that he-”

“ I regret making you! ”

“Then get rid of me, you coward!”

Elizabeth stuffed another handful of popcorn into her mouth.

“My life is so weird,” she said.

Chapter Text

Elizabeth was awakened by the sick sound of retching coming from the old, decrepit washracks. Her blood froze.

Quietly, she climbed down the rope ladder and padded to the entrance.

Starscream was on his elbows and knees, hunched over the rusty drain as he hacked up thick dribbles of half-processed energon. His servos trembled as he struggled to keep from collapsing on his face.

“... Starscream?” The seeker froze. “Are you alright?”

Starscream pushed himself up, wiped his mouth with a shaky servo, and shot her a poisonous glare.

“Get. Out!” He roared, flaring his wings in a threat display.

Elizabeth locked up, flinching hard at the volume.

“I’m sorry!” She whimpered, voice cracking as she stumbled back. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

Starscream’s optics went wide at her reaction.

“Oh, nonono- I didn’t mean-”

He collapsed back over the drain and dry-heaved.

“Wait!” He held up a servo as Elizabeth began to back away, absolutely terrified. “You don’t have to- I didn’t mean to-”

He fell into a brief coughing fit, and his cooling fans kicked into high gear as his systems struggled to right themselves.

“... You didn’t do anything wrong,” he finally managed to croak.

Elizabeth watched him a moment, anxiously wringing her hands.

“Can I come in?” She asked. Starscream nodded, slumping against the wall.

Hesitantly, she crept to his side and climbed into his lap. He peered down at her and raised an optical ridge.

“What are you doing?” He asked hoarsely. Elizabeth curled up against his cockpit, resting her cheek against the glass.

“I dunno,” she mumbled. “Emotional support?”

Starscream sighed heavily, letting his head fall to rest against the wall with a clang.

“I... Apologize, for yelling at you,” he muttered. “It was undeserved.”

“It’s okay,” Elizabeth replied. “I snap at people all the time if they catch me crying, or something. I get it.”

Starscream gently ran the side of his digit-tip across her upper back, humming regretfully.

“You are much smaller than I am, however,” he said, “and you rely on me for survival. You don’t have a choice to be here, nor any power in this situation. I owe you .”

Elizabeth looked up at him, face still squished against his cockpit.

“I wouldn’t leave, though- even if I had the option,” she said quietly. “I like you guys. You’re like my dads.”

Starscream huffed in amusement.

“I’m not your father, Elizabeth.” He gave her a soft poke between the shoulder blades with his knuckle. “I’m your commanding officer.” The girl snorted.

“Decepticons must be pretty cuddly, then,” she replied drily.

Starscream scoffed, but didn’t say anything further. Elizabeth turned to face him fully.

“If you don’t mind me asking... What happened? Are you sick?” She could feel the seeker tense underneath her.

“Just... A bad flux,” he said, frowning. “A nightmare, I’ve heard it called.”

Elizabeth’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked. Starscream shuddered, unintentionally jostling her.

“No,” he murmured. “I just want it all to disappear.”

His servo clenched where it lay on the floor, peeling up ribbons where his digits scratched the metal. Elizabeth grimaced at the noise.

“Primus- when he went away, everything was perfect. There was no fighting, we had resources, everyone respected my command...” Starscream sagged. “I wish he hadn’t come back. That he’d gotten lost in space, or something. He just ruins everything.”

The pair was silent for a moment.

“Is this about Megatron?” Elizabeth asked. Starscream nodded. “I’m sorry. He sounds like a jackass.”

The seeker giggled, the sound bubbling up from his vocalizer and escaping with a tinge of hysteria. 

“That’s one way to put it,” he said.

...

The kids observed as Optimus worked at the console, frowning more than usual.

Miko elbowed Jack.

“Hey, maybe you could try to get him to look at Screamer’s blog,” she whispered.

“Me?!” Jack hissed. “Remember how well that went last time?”

Raf pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“I could give it a try,” he suggested. Miko’s eyebrows shot up.

“If you rat us out,” she warned, narrowing her eyes, “I’m telling Optimus it was your idea!” Jack glared at her.

“ Miko! ”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Raf replied. He flashed then both a thumbs-up and approached the railing.

Jack pursed his lips.

“He’s totally gonna panic, isn’t he?” He muttered.

“Oh, definitely,” Miko agreed.

“Hey, Optimus?” Raf greeted hesitantly. The Prime smiled down at him.

“Hello, Rafael.”

“Are you okay?” Raf fidgeted. “You just seem... Kind of stressed out.”

Optimus vented a long sigh.

“I apologize if my manner has distressed you,” he said. “I simply find myself worried for the human Starscream has taken captive. I do not like that I cannot stop him from hurting her.”

Raf tilted his head.

“Maybe you should check his blog to see what he’s thinking,” he suggested. “He might spill something important.”

“Ratchet has taken the task of monitoring his blog,” Optimus replied. “He does not like for his jobs to be ‘stolen.’”

“Not anymore!” Miko piped up. “Yesterday he totally freaked after, like, one post!” Optimus frowned.

“I see.” His gaze grew sorrowful. “He has become rather... High strung, as you would say.”

“Yeah!” Miko said. “So, go check that blog!”

Optimus wordlessly brought it up on the monitor, scrolling down to the first post.

‘Do any of you ever think about how all life on this planet came from what was essentially pond scum?’ It read. ‘I feel like that explains a lot.’

“ Wow ,” Jack said. “Okay, then.”

‘Excuse you!’ Commented weedbaby69. ‘Pond scum is valid and you suck. Besides, you’re thinking of plants. The cells that turned into animals stuck together in blobs and started running around eating other creatures.’

‘This planet was designed by a sadist,’ Starscream had replied. ‘What the frag???’

Optimus stared at the screen for a long moment.

“What does this mean?” He asked hesitantly, as if he fully understood but was hoping he was incorrect. “Surely, you don’t eat other living creatures?”

“Uh... Yeah?” Jack said. “You didn’t know that?”

“Plants are... Alive?” Optimus murmured, stepping back from the console in horror. “I thought they were like crystals.”

The kids shared a look.

“Don’t worry about mushrooms or plants, they don’t think or anything!” Miko said, waving his concerns off. “Most of the animals we eat aren’t really smart, either!”

“... Animals?” Optimus asked, optics going wide. “Sentient animals?” Raf frowned at him.

“Well, none of them are sapient!”

“Nuh-Uh!” Miko protested. “What about octopi?”

“Oh, yeah,” the boy murmured. “Anyway, we don’t really have a choice. We’re consumers, not producers- we can’t make our own energy.”

Optimus looked like he was going to be sick. Jack looked between the younger teens and the Prime frantically.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa- it’s fine!” He said. “It’s just the circle of life! We eat things to stay alive, and then when we die other things eat us to stay alive, and then something else eats those things, too! It’s just how it works.”

Optimus was making the expression of a kid who had been told that Santa wasn’t real.

“... Excuse me,” he said. “I am needed elsewhere.”

He transformed and sped out of the base faster than any of them had ever seen a semi drive.

“Oh, man,” Jack muttered.

...

Fowler was bone-tired. He’d worked for ten hours straight, managing PR and convincing his superiors that the Autobots weren’t going to behave like Starscream (and in fact were actively fighting against him). If he never heard Geberal Bryce’s voice again, it would be too soon.

He sighed as he sank into a bubble bath, relaxing his tensed muscles. The radio was set to smooth jazz, which in combination with the warm water lulled him into a state of drowsy incoherence.

Surely, it wouldn’t hurt if he closed his eyes for a few minutes-

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!

Fowler startled, accidentally knocking a bottle of soap off the edge of the tub with his elbow. It clattered to the floor, skidding across the tile.

He stood up with a growl, wrapping towel around his waist and stomping to the counter where his phone lay.

“ Yes? ” He asked through gritted teeth.

‘Agent Fowler!’  Bryce shouted, causing him to pull the phone away from his face with a flinch. ‘Explain to me why one of your robot friends just crippled Texas’s cattle industry!’

Fowler was too goddamn tired for this bullshit.

“What?” He asked flatly.

’ Turn on the news!’

A minute later, Fowler stood in front of the TV, gripping his bath towel like he was trying to squeeze the life out of it.

‘... Reports have been coming in from all over Texas today about a giant blue robot destroying the fences at feed lots and releasing all the cows.

It’s struck almost all the major feed lots in the state, and has somehow evaded the authorities for seven hours. The culprit remained unknown until about an hour ago, when it was caught on camera.’

The video feed switched to silent footage of Optimus Prime ripping up the fences of a cow-pen and ushering the animals out before driving off.

‘This is the third giant robot incident in a month,’ the newscaster said, ‘and everyone wants to know what’s going on.’

Bryce was still yelling.

‘ - And if you don’t get this problem fixed ASAP, Washington is gonna start recognizing your buddies as hostile entities- ’

The news droned on. Bryce continued to shout.

Agent Fowler was going to kick Optimus Prime’s shiny metal ass.

Chapter Text

Elizabeth had been teaching the Starscreams how to play Uno when the console flashed, indicating that Harbinger had picked something up.

The clone, who was sitting closest to it, stood up to investigate. Starscream joined him.

“What’s the deal?” Elizabeth asked, perched on what she had claimed as Her Table as she paused in her struggle to shuffle the massive pieces of cardboard she’d written numbers on using different colored markers.

The game had yet to begin, and it was already a disaster.

“Strange... It seems the Nemesis is dispatching teams to various locations across the planet,” Starscream said.

“Oo, I wonder if there’s going to be a fight?” The clone crowed, optics brightening in petty glee. Starscream elbowed him.

“Hush, you. Whatever it is, it must be important-”

“-Thereby giving us an advantage and a potential bargaining chip,” finished the clone enthusiastically. “Oh, yes - let’s go create a fiasco!”

Starscream raised an optical ridge.

“I will go and investigate, you will stay here and watch Elizabeth until you learn to control what comes out of your mouth.”

“I wanna go, too!” Elizabeth whined. “I don’t need to be ‘watched,’ I’m an adult!”

The Starscreams burst into identical peals of laughter, before quickly composing themselves.

“ No, ” they said in unison.

Starscream isolated a set of coordinates near the southernmost group and punched them into the groundbridge.

“You two stay here- bridge me back when I call for it,” he ordered. The clone rolled his optics.

“Whatever,” he grumbled. Elizabeth watched them both with a frown.

“You’re just going out there all alone?” She asked. “What if something happens?” Starscream bristled.

“I’m several times older than your entire species- I can handle myself, thank you very much!” He snapped.

Elizabeth seemed unconvinced.

“Alright, just... Be careful? Please?” Starscream waved her off.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, then turned to his clone. “Just make certain that you bridge me back.”

With that, he pulled the lever and flew through the groundbridge. When the portal closed, all was silent.

“How rude,” the clone huffed. “I can keep my mouth shut! For example, I never told anyone that we’re afraid of enclosed spaces, because I held back from talking about it, because I have self control!”

“You’re claustrophobic?” Elizabeth asked. The clone’s expression soured.

“Shut up!”

...

Starscream was starting to regret his decision to come alone.

Not two minutes after he’d bridged into the Antarctic, he’d been grounded by a surprise shot to the wing.

Now, he was trudging after some upstart who thought he was an adequate replacement for the position Starscream had held for millions of years, surrounded by his Eradicons, and completely unable to comm for help thanks to the undignified pair of cuffs they’d slapped on him.

Ugh. Just- the nerve of these idiots! He was their superior! Who did they think they were, disrespecting the most powerful living Vosian noble like a bunch of-

Choom! Choom!

Oh, scrap- there was the Prime. He didn’t look happy to see any of them.

Starscream dove out of the way just in time to avoid being buried in a minor avalanche. He struggled to get to his pedes, pulling one leg out from under the large pile of snow with a curse.

Suddenly, a large, firm servo grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, and he was yanked up to optic-level with Optimus Prime.

He tittered nervously, feeling quite like one of those meowing dogs Elizabeth seemed so fascinated with.

“Why, hello there!” He greeted, plastering a big grin on his face. “Long time, no see! How have you been?”

Prime tightened his grip on Starscream’s neck.

“ Where is the human? ” He growled dangerously, field assaulting the seeker with fury and murderous intent.

“Nowhere you can find if I’m dead!” Starscream blurted.

Optimus held him aloft for a moment, glaring at him.

“We will speak when we get back to the base. First, I have a matter I must attend to.” He dropped Starscream and nudged him with his blaster. “ Move. ”

Starscream was really, really regretting his decision to go alone.

...

The clone picked at his claws, leaning sideways against the wall to avoid squishing his wings. Out of the corner of his optic, he could see Elizabeth doodling something on a piece of cardboard she’d deemed too small to be a part of the makeshift Uno deck.

“You need a name,” she said, glancing up at him. “And maybe some sort of defining feature so I can tell you two apart.”

The clone paused.

While it was certainly a logical conclusion to come to, he didn’t... Want to divorce his identity from Starscream’s.

He had all the same memories, shared all the same pain. His spark was a perfect replica of his creator’s- he’d checked. Several times.

He hated that he was different somehow. That he wasn’t the ‘real thing.’

That was part of the reason he’d originally intended to kill him. He was Starscream, and Starscream didn’t settle for being second-best.

Well. Without significant brute force, anyway.

The longer he spent time around his creator and Elizabeth, the more it became apparent to him that he was lacking. Less clever, less wise, less... Something.

Some quintessential thing that made him not Starscream.

“No,” he said firmly. “I’m Starscream, too. He and I are both Starscream.”

Elizabeth frowned at that.

The clone didn’t like to upset her. He knew he was more honest than his creator- at least, with himself. They both cared about her very much. He knew right away that if he’d killed his creator, Elizabeth would have hated him.

Starscream hated to be hated.

“Well, yeah,” the girl said hesitantly, “but I can’t tell you guys apart.”

“You don’t need to,” the clone snapped. “We are as one.”

Of course, he knew why she would want to know who was who. She had a favorite.

He had heard them talking the night before, in what used to be the washracks. His creator had been recovering from a bad flux.

The clone never had bad fluxes. Memories of them, inherited from his creator, but not the real thing. His own processor hadn’t developed such a glitch, new as it was.

He never thought that he’d want them back.

“Sorry if I upset you,” Elizabeth said softly.

“It’s fine,” the clone replied, fighting to keep his voice from wobbling.

Another thing he lacked- the ability to suppress unpleasant emotions. His creator had millions of years of practice, but the clone’s processor was brand-new and hadn’t had time to adjust to that kind of behavior.

Starscream didn’t cry over such minor inconveniences. Starscream didn’t even have to suppress it!

The clone was Starscream. He shouldn’t have had a problem with it, either.

Now that he was thinking about it, half the things that had happened to his creator over the past few years alone would have sent him into hysterics.

He could feel himself beginning to tremble.

All these years, Starscream had gotten through life’s slag by taking comfort in the fact that he had himself. That he couldn’t be owned or subjugated in the way that mattered. His mind was still his, and he was proud of who he was.

The clone couldn’t even have that, now, could he?

None of those experiences had really happened to him- he couldn’t claim any of his creator’s successes or failures. He couldn’t even say that he may as well have been responsible for them, because he was an imperfect copy.

He had all the same memories, shared all the same pain, but couldn’t claim the one thing that made them all worth having: the identity.

He couldn’t fill an already occupied position, after all. He would never be the real Starscream to anybody- not even himself.

Because he wasn’t, was he?

His spiral of melancholy was interrupted by his comm.

‘I fragged up, I fragged up, I fragged u- SLAG!’

Oh, dear. It seemed Starscream needed all the help he could get.

“Elizabeth?” He asked. The girl looked up from her doodling.

“Yeah?”

The clone grabbed the groundbridge remote and held out a servo for her to step onto.

“The idiot needs backup. Let’s go.”

The girl grinned, grabbing one of the unused coats she’d piled in the corner and climbing into the clone’s grasp.

“Let’s go apeshit!” She cheered.

The clone wasted no time in opening the bridge and zooming through, ready to join whatever idiocy his creator had cooked up this time.

Chapter Text

About the time Optimus and Starscream had arrived at the military base, (during some sort of comm argument between the Prime and one of his humans), the pair was interrupted by the the roar of three very angry Decepticon jets.

The Prime warmed his blasters. Starscream held up his cuffed wrists.

“If you free me, I could be useful,” he suggested. Optimus didn’t even look at him.

“No.”

Starscream grit his denta, moving behind the Prime as Dreadwing and the remaining Eradicons drew closer. He surreptitiously activated his comms, shrinking back in his growing anxiety.

‘I fragged up, I fragged up, I fragged u- SLAG!’

Dreadwing was shooting at them before he was even in range, throwing up chunks of snow and ice in the wake of the plasma blasts. Starscream dove to the side to avoid being hit, not looking to back to see what the Prime was doing.

He ended up with a face-full of snow.

Suddenly, two sets of claws were hauling him up out of the drift.

“Ow!” Starscream yelped as his damaged wing was jostled. The Eradicons manhandling him didn’t seem to care. “Get off of me!”

There was a flash of green above them, transformation noises, and suddenly the servos gripping Starscream’s arms went slack.

The two Eradicons dropped dead next to him, each bearing a smoking hole through the spark chamber.

Starscream whipped around to find own his own face grinning back at him like a smug little slagheap.

“Apparently, you couldn’t handle it,” the clone purred. Starscream glared at him.

“Shut up and get me out of these things!” He snapped, offering up his bound wrists.

Dreadwing paused in his fight with Optimus, taking in the scene with wide optics.

“What is the meaning of this?!” He bellowed. The Prime turned around, then stiffened.

“Starscream,” he shouted, raising his blasters, “stand down!”

The clone grinned, then dropped Elizabeth out of his cockpit and handed her off to Starscream, who held her awkwardly with his cuffed servos. Optimus’s fury seemed to increase tenfold as he caught sight of the human.

“ Make me! ” The clone spat, jutting his chin defiantly at the two large, terrifying, absolutely torqued to the Pit mechs.

Starscream dropped the shivering Elizabeth into his own cockpit, then rounded on his clone.

“Are you insane?!” He hissed, eyeing Dreadwing’s massive sword and Optimus’s gigantic blasters. “You’re going to get killed!”

“Not necessarily,” the clone murmured back, holding his own blasters steady. “Unlike you , my first instinct in a fight isn’t to cower.”

The statement hit Starscream like a ton of bricks. Before he had time to process the implications of it, the clone was high in the air, weaving between plasma blasts and shooting at whichever of his enemies was within range.

Starscream watched for a few seconds, his expression a combination of insult and anxiety, before glancing towards the human military complex.

Priority number one was getting Elizabeth out of the line of fire.

...

The clone was exhilarated. It had been a long time since he could remember actually enjoying a fight- especially a challenging one such as this.

He spiraled and ducked and shot, the acrobatics that had been hammered into him since he could first transform coming back to him so easily now that they weren’t impeded by a hard-wired instinct to cringe and beg for forgiveness.

His cackle was lost the wind as he looped around behind Dreadwing, shots scoring streaks into the larger seeker’s paint as they just barely missed him. He’d flown obstacle courses more rigorous than this!

What was Starscream so afraid of? Didn’t he know that he was capable? Didn’t he understand that his enemies could only hurt him if they won?

What Megatron had done to his creator was an unforgivable travesty. It was one thing to be disarmed of one’s physical weapons, but another entirely to have a shattered will.

The clone was going to help him repair it, and together they’d kill the brute that Prime had long been too pathetic to get rid of by himself. Megatron had been permitted far too much lenience- it was time to put him to an end.

Primus, the Prime wasn’t even coming close to hitting him-

Wait.

The clone almost didn’t think to dodge a blast from Dreadwing, and earned a long scorch mark where it had grazed his underside as a result. He was far too distracted by the fact that the Prime had left.

...

Starscream smashed frantically at the ice encasing whatever it was that had brought them all there in the first place, listening to the battle outside to be certain that he wouldn’t be caught unawares.

Elizabeth was huddled in the corner, chattering her little denta.

Oh, when this fiasco was over, he was going to gut his clone for bringing her to one of the most hostile environments on the planet!

First, however, he needed to acquire whatever weapon was hidden in the ice so that he could fend off Dreadwing and the Prime long enough to escape.

“How are you doing?” He asked, glacing at Elizabeth out of the corner of his optic.

Smash! Crack!

Almost there...

“I sh-should’ve brought a heavier coat,” the girl replied, tucking her legs underneath the puffy purple monstrosity that was keeping her from freezing to death. “Please hurry.”

Smash!

“I’m trying,” Starscream said. “He shouldn’t have taken you with him, the idiot.”

Smash!

“ Starscream! ” The Prime shouted. Just as the seeker turned around, twin bolts of blue plasma blasted massive chunk out of the ice.

The relic was shaken loose and thrown across the hangar, bouncing off the wall closest to Elizabeth.

Before Starscream could make a dive for it, the Prime had flipped him around and pinned him to the ice by his neck, pressing the warm barrel of his blaster against Starscream’s chest- right over his spark chamber.

Elizabeth screamed.

“Starscream,” the Prime growled, ignoring the seeker’s feeble attempts to loosen his grip. “You will never harm anyone, ever again.”

Starscream knew that tone. He knew that look.

He’d seen it many times over the course of the war, when the Prime psyching himself up to kill someone- namely, Megatron.

The servo at his neck was smaller, blunter than what he was used to- but still strong, and still hurting him, and still terrifying enough to make him freeze on the spot.

“Wait,” he whimpered, pawing weakly at the Prime’s wrist with his own bound servos. “Wait, I can explain-”

Optimus pressed the hot muzzle of his blaster in further, and Starscream could feel it beginning to melt and warp his Decepticon insignia.

“I cannot allow you to continue to terrorize innocents,” The Prime continued. “You are far too dangerous to be left alive.”

Elizabeth was shouting something, but the two of them were too caught up in the moment to hear it.

Starscream was going to die. He could see it in the Prime’s optics, he was going to die. He didn’t want to die!

“ Please ,” the seeker sobbed, shaking too badly to thrash effectively. His vents had shut off, and he could feel is internals beginning to overheat. “Please, please, please, no- please, don’t do this, don’t-”

Optimus’s optical ridges were furrowed harshly, betraying his inner conflict. His grip on Starscream’s neck slackened somewhat, and his blaster receded a few inches.

He paused, as if thinking it over, then pressed his blaster back into Starscream’s chest with a new determination.

“You chose this path,” he muttered darkly, resolve strengthening. “... And you will never change.”

The heat over Starscream’s spark chamber returned, and his begging and pleading crescendoed into a panicked frenzy as he struggled fruitlessly in the Prime’s grip.

“Please- I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’msorry I’msorry-”

The Prime’s optics narrowed harshly, and his grip tightened on Starscream’s neck. 

He was going to die. He was going to die. He was going to-

A blue and silver blur crashed into the Prime’s side, sending them both tumbling  into a heap as Starscream was thrown to ground by the force of it.

“Stop it!” Elizabeth shrieked, pinning the Prime to the ground under the weight of the Apex Armor. “Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop!”

Starscream curled into a fetal position on the floor, locking his joints into place and keeping his wings flat against his back. His vents were still not functioning, and he just barely registered the heat simmering up off of his plating.

It was getting more difficult to receive sensory input, and his visual and auditory feeds began to glitch as his systems shut down all non-essential activity to avoid overheating.

He couldn’t- he couldn’t-

Emergency override. Stasis lock: engaged.

Chapter Text

“... And you will never change,” Optimus growled, tightening his grip on Starscream’s neck.

The seeker was sobbing and pleading incoherently, struggles growing weaker as he overheated in his panic.

Optimus hated this. He didn’t want to kill someone so terrified, so distraught- but he needed to keep in mind who he was contending with.

He thought of Ratchet’s guilt, the screams of the humans Starscream had terrorized, the look on the face of the teenager (not a boy, nor named Jonathan, according to Ratchet) he’d kidnapped, the state Agent Fowler had been in after his interrogation, Miko’s trauma from the collapsed mine, Bumblebee’s t-cog, Arcee’s grief, Cliffjumper-

No. Starscream needed to die.

He prepared to shoot-

Something large and solid crashed into his side, tackling him to the ground and pinning him there.

“Stop it!” Someone shrieked. “Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop!”

Optimus’s visual feed came back into focus, and he found himself face to face with a crying human...

... Encased in the Apex Armor.

Oh.

“You can’t kill him!” The teenager continued, visibly distraught. “I won’t fucking let you!”

Optimus’s glare softened. Something wasn’t right here.

“Why not?” He asked. The girl seemed to calm somewhat.

“... He’s important to me,” she said quietly. “This- this isn’t what you think it is.”

Optimus transformed away his blasters.

“I see,” he replied, moving to sit up. “Please get off of me.”

She reluctantly obliged. They both stood, sizing each other up.

Before either of them could say anything, the clone arrived, heralded by the roar of his turbines.

“ Prime-! ” He surveyed the scene with increasing incredulity. “Wait, what the frag? Is that the-”

Dreadwing barreled into him, leaving a deep trench in their wake.

“Do not think you can escape justice, traitor!” He shouted, drawing his sword.

The human was on him in an instant.

“Get the fuck off of him, you big blue bitch!” She screeched, tackling him into a snow drift. Dreadwing recovered from his shock remarkably quickly.

“That relic is not yours to take, child!” He replied, pushing her off long enough to regain his bearings. “Surrender it to me, and I may spare your life.”

“Fuck you!” The girl yelled, giving him a clumsy ‘middle finger’ with the inflexible servos of the suit. “Squatters’ rights, jackass!”

Optimus’s optical ridges raised slightly. He had never met such a vulgar human.

“Dreadwing!” He called, transforming his servos into blasters. “Stand down! We do not need to fight!”

“Oh, you say that to him,” the clone muttered resentfully, stumbling to his pedes.

Dreadwing looked around, glowering at the opponents outnumbering him. He put his sword back.

“Very well,” he said, “but do not presume that this is over- One day, you will all pay for your transgressions!”

He transformed and flew off, leaving Optimus to his awkward situation.

The girl snorted.

“What a windbag,” she muttered disdainfully.

The clone burst into a peal of surprised laughter before regaining his composure. The girl approached him.

“Are you alright?” She asked, looking him up and down.

The clone puffed up proudly, flaring his wings- rather like a showy bird, in Optimus’s private opinion.

“Of course I am,” he drawled, putting his servos on his hips. “You’re talking to the most talented flier ever sparked!”

“Alright, alright,” she said with a smile. “That was pretty impressive, I’m not gonna lie.”

The clone preened, then stiffened.

“Oh, frag!”

Without any further explanation, he sprinted back into the hangar.

Optimus and the girl shared a look, following him at a more sedate pace.

...

The clone fell to his knees beside his creator’s unconscious form, pressing a servo over his vents to see if they were functioning properly.

He slumped in relief when he felt soft, warm gusts of air caress his digits. He knew what this was- it had happened before, a few times. He remembered those episodes all too well.

The unconscious seeker’s temperature was still running high, but luckily it appeared that the heat damage was minimal. Or, so it seemed to the clone- he wasn’t a medic, after all.

Either way, what concerned him most the damage to his neck cabling and the warped circle that had been melted into his chest plate.

He looked between the Prime and his creator.

“You tried to kill him,” he said. It wasn’t a question, or an accusation- a mere statement of fact.

“Yes,” the Prime replied, looking the slightest bit guilty (which, for him, was a profound display of emotion). “It seems my understanding of your situation was... deeply flawed.”

“Yeah,” said Elizabeth, drawing the word out, “about that- We lied.”

“We told so many lies,” the clone felt it was important to add. Elizabeth nodded.

“We lied our asses off.”

“Big time.”

Optimus looked between the two completely unapologetic faces with a frown.

“... I see,” he said slowly. “Might I inquire as to why?”

Elizabeth and the clone replied at the same time:

“We had to force your hand.”

“For fun.”

The clone gave Elizabeth a strange look, and found himself on the receiving end of a stern glare.

“What?” He asked, looking between her and the very confused Prime. “I mean, you seemed to be having fun with it!”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, and turned back to Optimus.

“Y’all weren’t gonna do it unless you absolutely had to,” she said. “He needs that t-cog, you should have seen him- he was completely off the shits!”

The clone furrowed his optical ridges at her incredulously.

“Oh, you say I’m the one who can’t shut up!” He complained.

Optimus frowned.

“What do you mean by ‘off the shits?’” He asked. Elizabeth pursed her lips.

“Y’know, all over the place? Hog-wild? Loopy?”

Optimus looked even more confused. Privately, the clone shared his sentiment, but he refused to show it.

“... Not in possession of all his mental faculties,” Elizabeth finished sheepishly. Optimus hummed in understanding. “I mean, not that either one of them is much better now. I think that’s their default.”

The clone bristled.

“ Hey! ” He snapped. Elizabeth side-eyed him.

“Can it, Mr. ‘I’m-going-to-fight-two-big-scary-dudes-with-laser-guns-at-once.’”

“You said it was impressive-”

“Regardless,” Optimus interrupted (so rudely ), “I must ask you to accompany me back to base. There is much to discuss.”

Well, that wasn’t horribly ominous at all.

The clone and Elizabeth shared a look. He gave her the minutest shake of the head. If they complied, they’d both likely wind up in prison cells. Course of action determined, they turned back to the Prime.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to decline,” the clone said smoothly, resting a servo on his hip with a cocky little flair.

Elizabeth gently lifted Starscream’s limp frame off the ground, holding him bridal-style.

“Yeah, sorry, dude.” She paused. “Wait a minute- aren’t you the cow guy?!”

Optimus did not dignify that with a response. The clone was immensely confused.

“Until we meet again,” the Prime said, nodding at them. He turned around and exited the hangar.

“Oh my god, you’re totally the cow guy!” Elizabeth exclaimed, trotting after him. “What the fuck was that about? Wait- where are you going? I need answers!”

The Prime was gone in a flash of green.

“Elizabeth,” the clone called, gesturing to Starscream’s unconscious form, “we need to leave before he freezes.”

The teenager stiffened, and the clone activated the groundbridge.

“Alright,” Elizabeth said. “Let’s get out of here.”

...

When Optimus returned, the base was a mess.

Bulkhead was unconscious on the med-berth, being frantically tended to by Ratchet. The children were slouched sullenly on the couch, and the rest of the team looked either tired or murderous.

Oh, dear.

“What happened?” He asked, approaching the med-bay. At Ratchet’s sharp glare, he stopped a respectful distance away.

“Tox-En,” the medic replied with a scowl. Optimus stiffened. “Luckily, there’s not any of it left- but it took its toll.”

“Did you get anything?” Arcee asked from the crate she was perched on.

Optimus frowned.

“No,” he said, “but I have learned of some important developments concerning Starscream.”

The atmosphere of the base soured further. Ratchet’s jaw clenched as he worked on Bulkhead.

“Is he dead?” Wheeljack asked perhaps a touch too hopefully, leaning in the corner.

“No,” Optimus replied, giving the Wrecker a stern look that went completely ignored. “It is a long story.”

Fowler crossed his arms, leveling Optimus with a stern look of his own.

“We’ve got time,” he said. “But afterwards, you and I are going to have a talk about the cows.”

Optimus stared at him. He really wished people would stop bringing that up, he did not want to address it.

“We shall see,” he replied cryptically. Agent Fowler’s demeanor could only be described as menacing.

“Oh, we will,” he assured, stance unwavering.

Optimus liked Agent Fowler. He respected that the man refused to cower from the ancient, heavily-armed giants occupying his home planet...

Except for right now.

They stared each other down.

Optimus regretted nothing, and he was never, ever going to talk about the cows.

“Indeed,” he said.

Chapter Text

Dreadwing’s mood wasn’t improved by the  presence of the chittering beasts leering at him on the bridge, nor by the ghastly sight of whatever had happened to Knockout.

Regardless, he pressed on- his Liege needed to be made aware of what had happened in the Antarctic.

He approached Megatron, stopping a respectful distance away, and bowed his head deferentially.

Megatron didn’t see any of it, too busy staring out at the clouds- likely strategizing, or reflecting on his place in the universe. Something profound, meaningful.

“My lord,” the seeker greeted.

“Ah, Dreadwing,” Megatron said, not turning away from his view of the horizon. “I trust you have brought me a relic?”

A hot stab of shame curled in Dreadwing’s tanks for his failure, and he looked at the floor.

“... No, my Liege,” he replied.  Megatron stiffened, so Dreadwing continued, “I was impeded by the presence of the traitor Starscream, his clone... And the Prime.”

That piqued Megatron’s interest.

“The Prime, you say?” He turned to face his Second fully, and Dreadwing clenched his jaw to keep his confidence steady under the weight of the tyrant’s full attention.

He nodded.

“Yes, my liege,” he said, “I have reason to believe that he and Starscream are working together.”

Megatron’s optical ridges furrowed, and a snarl worked its way across his face.

“... I see,” he muttered. “Your failure displeases me, Dreadwing- but it seems that I have other matters to attend to. See to it that this does not happen again.”

Dreadwing nodded, ignoring the anxiety souring his internals.

“Yes, my liege.”

Megatron turned back around and resumed his musing at the viewport.

“You are dismissed,” Megatron said with a careless wave of his servo.

Dreadwing couldn’t leave fast enough, eager to fix his mistake and restore his lord’s faith in his abilities. The next time he was faced with the Prime and his followers, he would not run.

...

“Mnn,” Starscream moaned, mustering up the presence of mind to online his optics to their lowest setting.

His entire frame ached down to his smallest struts, and his processor felt as if it were slogging through mud. If he’d had the energy to try, he would hardly have been able to move.

“Hey,” said a quiet little voice. A moment later, Elizabeth’s fluffy head poked its way into his limited field of vision- though it was difficult to pick through the details. “How’re you feeling?”

Starscream managed something between a whine and a sigh, feeling at once too hot and too empty. Elizabeth disappeared.

“Is he alright?” She asked, voice fuzzy and difficult to make out. “He’s really warm.”

“It seems the heat damage was more extensive than I thought. His self-repair systems are straining.” A pause. “We need to flip him on his front.”

There was the sound of something deploying, and one massive pair of servos gently lifted him by the shoulders while another took his hips. He whimpered- they were cold.

Slowly and with great care, he was rolled onto his front. His wings were flopped to either side, open to what little air was circulating inside the stuffy old shipwreck. He could feel his systems cooling down from their slight fever, and his aches abated somewhat.

Elizabeth giggled.

“He looks droopy,” she said. His clone huffed.

“Yes, yes- he’s tired, give him some space. Go eat your ‘food,’ or something.”

“Alright, whatever.” There was a noise that signaled something folding back up, and little pedesteps pattered out of the room.

The clone sighed once it was silent, and a cold, spindly servo rested itself on Starscream’s back-thruster. Slowly, it began petting him in soothing up-and-down motions that made his already muddled processor fuzzy. Starscream made some sort of inquisitive hum, the purpose of which he wasn’t entirely certain.

“Shh,” said the clone, field dancing on the edge of Starscream’s own with a vague sense of affection. “Go back to recharge. You need to rest.”

Starscream wouldn’t admit it to anyone- even himself- but he’d missed the feeling of being doted upon. Of being able to relax and entrust someone else with his safety for a little while. Of affection in general.

He liked this- the soft words, the petting of his back. It was nice.

It didn’t take long to lull him back into unconsciousness.

...

The clone couldn’t stop a soft smile from spreading across his face as Starscream’s weak purring tapered off.

Someone (he couldn’t remember who- it had happened a long time ago) had once called him incorrigibly self-absorbed. He wondered if it still applied, now that they were now two different entities.

After all, from the clone’s perspective he had been the mech in front of him for as long as he could remember- up until a couple weeks prior.

It was strange, to look down at himself and see someone so contradictory to the self-image he’d held for so long. Someone scared, and lonely... Someone whose struggles he understood intimately.

He had never thought of himself like that before, had never been so generous with his understanding for anybody.

Starscream could always be counted on to love himself, and the clone was Starscream, to a certain degree.

His creator murmured in his sleep, using what little energy he had to spare from his overtaxed self-repair systems to press up into the caress. It was... Endearing.

The clone realized something, then- watching the unconscious seeker sigh softly in recharge:

Starscream did not love himself.

He didn’t even like himself, come to think of it.

When had he ever forgiven himself for his failures?

When had he ever judged himself on his own terms?

When was the last time he’d had actual, real confidence in himself not born of spite?

Not that he’d ever been candid about it with anyone, of course- but even in the moments he’d been shouting his own praises to the high heavens, there had been an ache there to prove it.

If someone had ever told him to ‘prove’ that his trine had been worth love, affection, or praise, he would have gutted them on the spot.

The same with Skyfire.

Pit, if someone even tried to tell him Elizabeth’s presence wouldn’t be tolerated if she didn’t bring something significant to the table (a rather reasonable stance to take in a military, he presumed), he’d punch a hole in them faster than they could say ‘show me’...

... But, Starscream did not extend that same courtesy to himself. He hadn’t in a very long time.

When had that happened?

How had that happened?

He stared down at his double, feeling an odd swell of sympathy. He wanted him to succeed, to feel better.

... Who did he have to kill to make things right again?

...

The expressions in the Autobot base ranged from ‘dumbfounded’ to ‘very disappointed in you, Optimus, you know better than to consume substances that influence your neural net activity.’

“Bullshit,” Fowler said. The kids behind him stiffened.

“He’s allowed to cuss?” Raf whispered to his companions. Jack looked at him tiredly.

Miko was uncharacteristically silent, gripping the handrail as she stared at her injured guardian.

“What do you mean, Agent Fowler?” Optimus asked, ignoring the way the solemnity of the base weighed on his spark.

The human glared at him sternly.

“How do we know he’s not lying, or playing the long game? That girl could still be in danger! He could be lying to her!”

The base fell silent.

“No, he’s not,” Jack said. Raf and Miko froze, watching him with eyes.

Optimus frowned. Something was not right with the children.

...

Jack’s stomach was doing back-flips.

“What do you know about all this?” Fowler asked, giving him a Look. The boy took a deep breath.

“Okay, I know you told us not to go on Starscream’s blog-”

“ What?! ” Ratchet exclaimed. Arcee stood up from her crate, stiff and furious.

“Jack!” Miko hissed, whirling around. “What are you doing?!”

Good question.

“He almost died,” Jack stressed. “I mean, he’s a total asshole, don’t get me wrong, but...”

Miko stared at him a moment, before stomping off to the couch in a huff. Jack turned back to the crowd of gigantic, angry aliens.

“We looked at his blog a lot, because we thought it was funny at first,” he continued, “but we saw a lot of... Really messed up stuff.”

“Well, of course you did!” Arcee snapped. “This is Starscream, what were you thinking?! What did you even see?”

Jack swallowed.

“Not plans or anything- just his rants. Like, he doesn’t name any names, but you can tell exactly what he’s talking about and it’s kind of sickening.”

Ratchet grimaced.

“Of course he’d brag about the things he’s done...” He muttered. “This is one of the reasons why we told you to stay away from it, Jackson- war is brutal.”

Jack shook his head.

“It wasn’t bragging, though,” he said. “It was complaining. The Decepticons are messed up- like, really messed up on a psychological level. I just- I don’t know, I feel like I need to show you so you can understand what I’m talking about.”

“We know they’re fragged up, kid- we’ve been fightin’ ‘em for longer than humans have been around ,” Wheeljack said. Jack sighed in frustration.

“I know what you mean, but that’s not what I’m talking about!” He said. “Just- just pull it up and let me show you? Please?”

He looked imploringly to Optimus who, with a sigh, nodded his assent. Ratchet offered him a servo, and deposited him on the console.

“This is ridiculous,” the medic muttered.

“Go to the search bar and find the ‘delete later’ tag,” Jack said. Ratchet shot him an inquisitive look. “He always tags them with that, but he never actually deletes the posts. Anyway, those are usually the worst.”

‘I used to think I was sore all the time because I was getting old, but now I think that it was either healing injuries or the fact that I was constantly tensed. I didn’t even realize how much my body ached until it stopped.’

The base fell into an unimpressed silence.

“So,” Ratchet deadpanned, “he’s enjoying a break from responsibilities. What’s so ‘messed up’ about that?”

“Yeah, it seems like that on the surface,” Jack said, “but you’ve gotta think about it- isn’t he rogue right now? As far as he knows, he’s going to get shot on sight of anyone finds him. Optimus, didn’t his friend say he was starving? He should be stressed out.”

The Autobots didn’t look convinced.

“And- and apparently he was recovering from injuries so often he thought it was chronic pain! You guys fight in way more battles than he does, and that doesn’t happen to you.”

No dice.

This was getting increasingly difficult to articulate without making some sort of actual claim (and he didn’t want to go there), so Jack stepped on a button to scroll down a bit.

It was some sort of post about arch-nemesis fighting tropes, and Jack scrolled all the way to the bottom of it to find Starscream’s comment.

‘You’re all idiots. You’ve obviously never been in a situation like that before, have you?

There’s nothing ‘fun’ about being pinned against wall by your throat while your enemy screams in your face and won’t let go. It’s not ‘sexy’ for your neck to be so damaged that you can’t talk for days afterward. It’s painful and humiliating and annoying.

You don’t want someone that threatening getting in your personal space, or grabbing at you, or throwing you around. You don’t want to be that weak in front of anybody.’

There was beat of silence.

“It’s a war, Jack,” Arcee said impatiently. “People throw you around.”

“You guys are all stupid!” Miko snapped, stomping over to the railing. “Let me get up there, I’ll show you what he means!”

Ratchet rolled his optics, muttering something about ‘not being a taxi service,’ but complied.

“Go back and find the ‘anonymous’ tag,” she said.

After scrolling for about ten seconds, she found it.

‘Anonymous said: Why are you so surprised about losing an organ when you were working with literal organ thieves? Seems like you had it coming.’

‘Oh, get fragged! You don’t know anything about me or my situation, and you don’t know why I did anything! Do you think I wanted to align myself with a bunch of traitorous, filthy organ thieves?!

Admittedly, it was a colossal error in judgement, but I am starving!

But, of course you don’t know that- you just want to moralize like an insufferable, impertinent little idiot who thinks you are the pinnacle of morality and sound judgement.

Let me spell it out for you, since you seem too dense to comprehend what exactly is going on:

Sometimes, you have to work with people you’d rather kill in order to stay alive!

It was them or a gigantic megalomaniac with anger issues, and I’d rather take my chances with a band of wannabe-scientists with a penchant for impromptu dissection than an idiot with a god complex who’s big enough to crush my body just by squeezing (and when it comes down to organ removal, the thieves still win, because this is not the first time this has happened and they’ve only done it once - not to mention, they didn’t treat it like it was a privilege that could be lost).

I don’t care about whether or not I “had it coming,” this is my blog and I’m going to complain!!!!

Come back and talk slag when you’re actually in a difficult situation, you miserable, insignificant little cockroach.’

Miko gestured to it with both hands, waving them up and down dramatically.

“Duh!” She shouted. “Jack is just too much of a wuss to tell you that Screamer isn’t going back to the ‘Cons because his life is a fucking nightmare!” She turned to Jack. “You are so bad at explaining things, I can’t believe you just made me defend that guy!”

The teenager held up his hands defensively.

“What, do you think Starscream is the hill I wanna die on? I’m just saying, he’s probably not lying because that?” He gestured to the screen. “That is messed up. That isn’t normal. That’s not a ‘war’ thing, that’s a ‘Megatron’ thing.”

The bots were grimacing at the screen. Agent Fowler was frowning.

“And he’s got no idea that anyone knows about his blog?” Jack and Miko shook their heads, and he sighed. “Fine. That doesn’t excuse the fact that he’s prone to robbing and destroying establishments for his little ‘friend,’ though. Or the fact that she seems to be complicit in all this.”

Jack looked out at the bots’ expressions, which betrayed various degrees of disgust.

“Look, I’m not saying he’s a good guy, or anything,” he said, “but I don’t think he’s much of a threat at this point. So, maybe don’t kill him?”

Optimus looked supremely guilty. Agent Fowler pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Great- glad we got that cleared up.” He turned to the Prime. “Now- the cows.”

Before he could say anything further, Optimus had shifted into alt-mode and escaped out the tunnel entrance.

Jack blinked. It weird to watch Optimus run (or drive, in this case) away from his responsibilities. Fowler turned to the rest of the Autobots with a grim determination.

“Anyone wanna give me a ride?” He asked. 

Chapter Text

Arcee was quiet the next day when she picked Jack up from school.

“Hey,” he greeted.

She did not respond.

They drove in silence for a few minutes.

“... What’s wrong?” Jack finally asked.

“I can’t believe you’d do that,” Arcee said quietly, after a moment. “After everything he’s done, I can’t believe you’d defend him like that.”

Her voice was bitter, with an edge of betrayal. Jack’s stomach twisted into knots.

“I’m sorry, I just- I wasn’t defending him, I-” he cut himself off. “I don’t know. I just don’t think it’s a good idea to focus so much energy on him?”

“That’s a load of scrap, Jack,” Arcee replied curtly. “You feel bad for him.”

Under his helmet, Jack grimaced.

“I just don’t know why,” Arcee continued. “He’s hurt so many of us- I don’t care how bad his life is.”

“He just- reminds me of someone,” Jack muttered, tightening his grip on her handlebars. “A lot of the things he said really got under my skin. I don’t know.”

Arcee veered off the road, speeding off behind a Mesa. Jack slid off the seat once she parked, taking off his helmet as she transformed.

“We need to talk about this,” she said, staring at him with an intensity that made him squirm. “This isn’t- it’s not okay.”

Jack sat down heavily, leaning on the helmet in his lap and staring at the ground.

“Look, it’s complicated, okay? I just...” He looked up at Arcee, who sat in front of him with her legs crossed, staring at him expectantly. “He... Kind of reminds me of my mom.”

Arcee’s optics narrowed.

“Wait, what?” She asked. Jack grimaced.

“Okay, you can’t ever tell her I told you this,” he said, “but my dad was terrible. Like, really awful. He did a lot of bad things to her when I was little, and I don’t remember a lot of it, but it still affects her.”

He looked back at the dirt, tracing circles with his finger.

“You can’t sneak up on her, you can’t yell at her, you can’t get in her face- she freezes up really badly. Like, one time we got in a car accident, and the guy who rear-ended us started screaming at her, and I thought she was going to have a panic attack.” He fidgeted. “And reading about some of the things that happened to him kind of reminded me of that.”

Arcee’s face softened.

“Jack-”

“And I know, I know- trust me, I hate seeing her in him at all, but still. It bugs me.” Arcee sighed.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m not really mad at you, I’m just... Frustrated and upset.”

“I can understand that,” Jack replied.

“I just don’t know where all this is coming from- it’s like he decided to be less awful all of a sudden,” She continued. “Why couldn’t he do that instead of murdering-”

She cut herself off. They were both silent.

“Did I tell you about when he saved my life?” Arcee asked quietly. Jack nodded.

“A bit, yeah. You said he shot Airachnid.” Arcee sighed.

“Yeah... He did more than that,” she said. “He cut me down from her webbing and said something about ‘repaying debts.’ It came out of nowhere.” She furrowed her optical ridges. “I don’t understand why he didn’t just kill me. He doesn’t get to start playing nice, like he didn’t hurt anyone!”

Jack didn’t know what to with that.

“Uh, well.” He fidgeted. “I’m sorry.”

Arcee sighed.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

There was a beat of silence.

“I don’t know about you,” Jack said, “but I’m tired of thinking about that jackass. Wanna head to base?”

Arcee smiled, shifting into her alt-mode.

“Sounds like a plan, partner.”

...

Starscream had curled up on his side in the night, and was whimpering as his dim, unseeing optics darted around the room.

Elizabeth was seated in the clone’s lap, and together they watched the feverish shaking in silence.

“... He needs a doctor,” Elizabeth decided. “Like, right now. Look at him, he’s still all busted up!”

The clone nodded.

“Undoubtedly. The question now is how we would go about  acquiring  one.”

Elizabeth sighed.

“Yeah, the Autobots are not going to do anything for us after all that shit we pulled.” She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, screwing up her mouth. “You said Knockout is small- do you think we could just pop into the Nemesis and kidnap him?” The clone shivered.

“No. Absolutely not. He’d comm for help, or drill through something important.” He grimaced. “He’d probably also start cracking jokes.”

Elizabeth shot him an inquisitive look.

“Oh, just little things. Like, ‘Oo, that looks like it hurts! Do you want to be in stasis for the surgery?’” He mocked in a falsetto, flapping one of his servos to imitate talking. He grabbed his wrist and shook it in a pantomime of strangling. “Shut up, you little goblin! What, do you think I can’t handle getting a bit dismembered?”

Elizabeth looked between him and his servo with furrowed brows.

“You need help,” she muttered. The clone glared at her.

“We’re not getting Knockout,” he said. Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

“Alright, then. Why don’t we just go kidnap another teenager for real this time like pair of jackasses!” She threw her hands in the air. “I mean, unless we can magically procure another bargaining chip-”

She paused, looking over at the condensed Apex Armor she’d left on the table, mercifully still there thanks to her threats to do very awful biological things to the clone in his recharge cycle if he took it. The clone followed her gaze.

They looked at each other.

“I hate this,” the clone said.

“Me too,” Elizabeth replied with a grimace.

“We have to do it, don’t we?”

“Ee-yep.”

The seeker flopped back in his chair with a whine, jostling Elizabeth.

“Fine. Go suit up, I’ll contact the stupid Autobots.”

...

Just as Jack and Arcee got back to base, they received a hail from Starscream.

“Are you kidding me?!” The two-wheeler hissed. Jack patted her ankle sympathetically.

“‘Will trade Apex Armor for medical attention,’” Ratchet read. “‘No lying this time- pinky promise.’”

“That’s literally the least trustworthy thing I’ve ever heard in my life,” Arcee said.

“Then they shall give it to us before we assist them,” Optimus replied. “Arcee, you will stay and operate the groundbridge. Bumblebee will monitor Bulkhead. Ratchet and I will handle this situation.”

Arcee had to concede that that was probably a good idea. If allowed to go along, she might get tempted to shoot Starscream in the codpiece during surgery, and something told her that Optimus would not approve.

“Alright,” she said.

Ratchet and the Prime disappeared, leaving the base in silence.

Suspicious silence.

“Hey, where’s Miko?” Jack asked.

Scrap.

...

Miko trotted up behind Optimus and Ratchet.

“Hey, guys!” She chirped. Ratchet jumped.

“Ack!” He turned around. “What are you doing here?! ”

Well, truthfully, Miko wanted to escape the base and occupy her mind so that she wouldn’t have to think about the fact that she’d killed Hardshell the night before and process why she didn’t regret it in the slightest, or why she even wanted to.

But they didn’t know about that, so she shrugged.

“I’m bored,” she said.

Ratchet stared at her. Optimus frowned.

“Miko,” the Prime said, “this situation could escalate-”

“I’ll stay out of the way!” She promised, putting on her Pleading Face. “You won’t even know I’m there!”

“That’s not reassuring in the slightest,” Ratchet muttered. Optimus stared at her a moment.

“At the first sign of trouble, you will return to the base,” he said.

Ratchet glared at him, and Miko whooped.

“Alright! Let’s rock this surgery!” She cheered. “Stab that guy back to life!”

“Please, never become a medical professional,” Ratchet said exhaustedly.

Chapter Text

Elizabeth held Starscream bridal-style, relishing in the power of the Apex Armor while she still could. He was not going to be happy about this, she knew.

Tough shit.

“Hm?” The seeker hummed inquisitively, onlining his optics as she and the clone trekked through the forest.

“Shh,” Elizabeth said, shifting his position so that his head was resting on her shoulder. “Go back to sleep. I’ve got you.”

“Mmkay,” he mumbled. The clone rolled his optics.

“Don’t coddle him,” he muttered. Elizabeth gave him a flat look.

“He’s sick,” she said. “He needs a little TLC.”

The clone squinted.

“He needs ‘the learning channel?’” He asked.

Elizabeth shook her head with a snort.

“Nevermind.”

They came upon a clearing, and the Prime and Ratchet were waiting for them, looking thoroughly unamused. They stopped.

The two parties stared at each other for a moment.

“Hi.” Elizabeth shifted her weight awkwardly. “So, uh. Do I just set him on the ground, or...?”

“Unless you brought a tarp,” Ratchet snapped impatiently.

“Right.” She gently laid Starscream on his back.

The seeker’s face screwed up, and he mewled in discomfort. Elizabeth’s heart broke a little at the sight.

“Hm ,” Ratchet said. “He’s not doing too well.” He held out a servo. “Give us the armor.”

Elizabeth hesitated a moment.

She probably should have seen this coming. If she made herself vulnerable now, there was nothing stopping these guys from taking the armor and leaving them there.

They weren’t going help them if she didn’t fork it over, however.

She deactivated it (the mechanism had been difficult to locate, and it had taken her twenty minutes to get out of it last time), and left it on the ground.

“Uh, here?” She felt too exposed without it.

Optimus quietly retrieved it, then moved back to the side, out of the way.

Elizabeth chuckled nervously. She’d forgotten how big these guys were. They could just squish her if they so chose, and they looked angry-

“I’ll be over there,” she blurted, pointing to the underbrush.

...

The clone frowned as he watched Elizabeth go, feeling oddly awful about himself at her reaction.

Perhaps it felt too much like something he’d do. He did hate those all too frequent moments of weakness, and seeing such behavior displayed by his charge brought on a sense of second-hand embarrassment.

He decided that the best thing he could do would be to leave it- acknowledging it would only exacerbate the shame by bringing it to everyone’s attention, after all.

The medic got to work, muttering to himself as his nimble servos flew across his creator’s chassis.

“Damaged neck cabling, dents and scoring on the outer edge of one wing, partially buckled chest plating, heat-damage all over the sensornet, signs of spark-stress...”

The clone felt like a fool for waiting so long to do something about it.

He hated feeling foolish.

He stood there quietly, watching with the Prime as Ratchet began his repairs.

He would never allow himself to shirk his responsibilities to either Starscream or Elizabeth ever again, he decided.

...

Elizabeth found a girl in the bushes, and blanched.

“Uh, kid-” she whispered, but was cut off.

“Oh my god, are you Screamer’s human?” She asked. Elizabeth blinked.

“Wait, what?” She furrowed her eyebrows and let out a snort. “Also- ‘ Screamer?’ ”

The girl nodded.

“Yeah- that’s what we call him,” she said.

“Hold on, hold up- ‘we?’” Elizabeth asked incredulously. “Who are you? Why are you even- how old are you?!”

“The name’s Miko, and I’m fifteen and a half!” She said proudly. “So, y’know- I’m basically an adult.”

Oh, christ. Was this how she made Starscream feel? Elizabeth shook her head.

“Oh, kid, no,” she said. “Are you with the Autobots? Where are your parents? ”

Miko pouted at her.

“I’m not a little kid!” She insisted. “I’ve been on a ton of missions! I killed a guy!”

What?! Optimus Prime, the guy who had tried to murder Starscream for having her at all, put fifteen year olds into situations that led to them having to kill people?

Giant robot or not, she was having words with that guy.

“Holy shit, are you okay?” Elizabeth asked. “ Why do the Autobots let you on missions? Are you in danger? What the hell?!”

Miko wrinkled her nose.

“They only let me do boring things, like patrolling or something,” she complained. “I have to sneak out a lot.”

Elizabeth was losing years off her life. Did this child have no sense of self-preservation?!

“Why?” She hissed. “Why do you do this? You could die!”

“I haven’t yet!” Miko helpfully pointed out. Elizabeth took a deep breath, and folded her hands.

“Alright, let me break it down for you,” she said. “Starscream has told me that he’s considered kind of small among the Decepticons. He is twenty-two tons of solid metal.”

“Big whoop,” Miko replied flatly. Elizabeth’s patience waned.

“Kid, humans are made out of animal cells. Y’know, the structures with membranes so fragile that they liken them to bubbles in biology?” Elizabeth continued. “We are water held together with microscopic sheets of phospholipids. You aren’t dead yet because you are very lucky.”

Miko narrowed her eyes.

“Oh, yeah?” She challenged. “Well, this animal cell-bubble took down an insecticon!”

Elizabeth blinked.

“I don’t know what that is,” she said. “Are they smaller than the average cybertronian, or...?” Miko scoffed.

“No, they’re bigger than Optimus!” She exclaimed, waving a hand in the direction of their guardians. Her face fell into something more neutral- almost haunted. “He hurt my friends, so I shot that stupid slagger with a missile and sent him back to Megatron in pieces.”

Well, that was fucked up. They were silent for a moment.

“Hey,” Elizabeth said softly, “are you okay?”

Miko didn’t answer, and stomped over to a rock to plop down on it. Elizabeth sat down next to her, watching her worriedly.

“... I thought I would feel better if I made him pay,” the girl finally muttered, picking at the stone beneath her. “But Bulk is still hurt. And none of the bots know except for Wheeljack. I didn’t fix anything.”

Elizabeth nodded sympathetically.

“Do you regret it?” She asked. Miko shook her head.

“No,” she said. “It just sucked. It wasn’t any fun- it felt like taking out the trash, or something.”

“Oof,” Elizabeth said with a wry smile. “You just dug that guy up and killed him again!”

Miko smiled faintly.

“Yeah.” She turned to Elizabeth. “Has Screamer made you kill anyone yet?” She asked.

Elizabeth couldn’t suppress the short burst of giggles that erupted from her mouth at the thought of Starscream willingly placing her into any combat situation.

“I mean, no,” she replied, “but he’d probably be proud of me or something. When he first grabbed me, he made this big speech about how it was the ‘dawn of a new era,’ and kept going on about how we were going to bathe in the blood of our enemies, or something.”

“Wait, seriously?” Miko asked, looking like she couldn’t decide whether to be amused or horrified. Elizabeth nodded.

“ Hoh,  yeah,” she said. “And then I started panicking because I’d just gotten kidnapped by a giant robot, and he freaked out and robbed a Walmart to get me things so I’d stop.” She shook her head fondly. “It’s kind of a mixed bag with him.”

The sound of whirring and buzzing came from the clearing, and the pair looked through the trees for a moment. Elizabeth seemed to wilt a bit at the reminder of Starscream’s predicament.

“... Why do you stay with him?” Miko asked, looking almost as if she already knew the answer. Elizabeth dismissed the absurd thought. “Didn’t he kidnap you, or something?”

“Well, yeah,” she replied, “but- and this is gonna sound weird- we were sort of internet friends, before that?”

Miko didn’t look near as surprised as Elizabeth thought she would.

“ Wow ,” she said with a forced-looking grin, “that’s totally crazy!”

Elizabeth didn’t worry too much about it. The kid was weird.

“Yeah.” The memory of the events before she’d properly met him soured her stomach. “My parents were gonna kick me out. I was scared, so I told him about it, so he punched a hole in the roof and grabbed me.”

“Huh,” Miko said. “I thought he didn’t like humans.”

“Pfft,” Elizabeth replied, “he doesn’t like anybody! He’s a crabapple!”

“He calls us ‘vermin,’” Miko said flatly. Elizabeth shrugged.

“Last time he said something like that, I threw a can of beans at his head.” Miko snorted at that. “Anyway, he seems to like me just fine, for some reason. I wouldn’t leave even if I had somewhere else to go.”

Miko raised her eyebrows.

“I mean, I guess I get what you’re saying.” They were silent for a moment. “Anyway- did you really tackle Optimus?”

Elizabeth grinned.

...

Megatron stood before him, face impassive and blank as it had always been, when addressing him. Starscream was never spared feelings from his master.

He was on his knees (why was he on his knees?), and he was begging and pleading.

He didn’t understand a single word that was coming out of his own mouth. They all merged together into one long, fixed, and ultimately meaningless unit.

Words were useless, here.

Megatron’s features remained neutral, but had slowly began to harden somehow- as if he had become resolute in not feeling anything for Starscream at all.

His simpering was beginning to make some sort of sense. There was a feeling he could identify now, behind that pure terror: desperation.

Not for his life. Not for his safety.

The words came into focus.

“... Please, master, just once! Just this once is all I ask, just one time is all I need...”

What was he begging for? What did he want so badly?

“It doesn’t even have to be significant- maybe something like ‘you do well, occasionally,’ or ‘good job!’”

Megatron remained unaffected by his plea for approval. His face was cut from stone and his harsh, blazing gaze was somehow icy. Starscream became more desperate.

“Please,” he sobbed, “you don’t even have to mean it! I’ll- I’ll never be a problem again! I’ll never question you, I’ll never speak out of turn, I’ll never think twice to execute your orders! You can hurt me whenever you want, I don’t care! I won’t scream, or cry-”

Nothing.

“- unless you want me to cry, of course! I’ll do whatever you want, whenever you ask, just please just give me one good reason to stay with you. Please give me one sign that everything I’ve done means anything to you at all!” His voice quieted. “Please.”

Megatron didn’t move, but he also didn’t look away.

“You try to bargain with me,” he finally said, (and oh, how Starscream still flinched at gravelly voice), “with behavior that is already expected of a Second in Command?”

Starscream’s wings fell. Oh, he’d fragged up, he’d fragged up-

“Master,” he tittered nervously, “I-”

“Do not interrupt me,” Megatron growled. Starscream froze. Was it warm? He was getting warm. “As I was saying, you dare to threaten to withhold the very bare minimum I expect from you, as if it is a luxury? As if you have any right to command me?”

Starscream shook his head fervently.

“No, master, no-”

“Every other soldier in this faction has no trouble doing what is expected of them, Starscream.” The seeker flinched. He hated the sound of his name in Megatron’s mouth. “If you are unable to do so without special treatment, then you are not worth keeping around at all.”

Starscream felt like he was hanging over a smelting pit, with the way the heat was suffocating him. Despite this, cold still crept up his spinal struts to his neck.

“Master, forgive me-” he begged, staring into the brightening barrel of a fusion cannon. It was warm, getting warmer- “I- I spoke out of turn, my lord, please-”

Megatron’s face was impassive, almost bored.

“Time and again, you prove yourself more trouble than you are worth, Starscream,” he said. “You are far from impossible to replace.”

Starscream’s pleading began to blend itself up again, a slurry of meaningless simpering and bids for mercy that he did not deserve.

The fusion cannon was bright, getting brighter, brighter, brighter-

Somewhere, wherever he was, Starscream sat up abruptly with a strangled gasp and fell on his side, retching into the soft organic soil.

Chapter Text

The repairs didn’t take as long as the clone had thought they would. Apparently, most of the damage had been to his internal wiring, but it was nothing that couldn’t be solved by his self-repair systems (and how fortunate for them- Ratchet had neither the time nor resources to set about fixing a problem of that magnitude).

“Alright,” the medic said tiredly. “I’m bringing him back online.”

As soon as he disconnected, Starscream was upright and heaving all over the ground. The clone shuddered as the half-processed energon narrowly missed hitting his pedes, making a noise of frustration.

“Do you have any idea how long it took to get him to swallow that?” He muttered, falling into a crouch in front of his creator. “Come on, up you get.”

Starscream dry-heaved one last time, frame trembling from the exertion.

“Wh-Where the frag are we?” He stuttered. His optics darted around almost feverishly, taking in his lackluster surroundings, then widened. “I’m- I’m not dead!”

He laughed deliriously at that, allowing himself to slump back onto the disgusting, dirty forest floor.

“That’s twice now,” he slurred, holding up two limp digits. “Twice in a row I thought I was gonna die! An’ I didn’t!”

The clone was completely mortified at such undignified behavior.

“His self-repair systems are still taking priority in his frame’s energy distribution, so his higher processing skills may be temporarily impaired,” Ratchet helpfully supplied, as if reading his mind. “Basically, he’s going to be functionally overcharged until his circuits heal.”

Overcharged?! He would be dealing with a completely slag-faced idiot?! The clone shot the Prime a poisonous glare.

“Oh, you just had to try to kill him, didn’t you?” He growled.

Ratchet was on him before the Prime could formulate a proper response to that.

“If you didn’t want to be treated like a dangerous enemy, you shouldn’t have gotten yourselves involved in human affairs,” he snapped. “And you certainly shouldn’t have lied about the nature of said involvement!”

The clone glared back at him, but said nothing.

Starscream looked between them with the expression of a mech who didn’t know what was going on or how to feel about it at all.

“What’re you doing here?” He asked suspiciously, waving a digit around in the Autobots’ general direction.

The medic gave him a flat stare.

“I fixed you. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Starscream blinked.

“Oh,” he said. “Thank you.”

Ratchet snorted.

“What do you know? He does come with manners.”

Starscream scrunched up his face thoughtfully.

“I suppose that I means I owe you something, doesn’t it?” He said.

Oh, no. Oh, Pit no.

“That will not be necessary,” the clone said curtly, hauling Starscream up from under his arms. “I believe the Apex Armor is more than enough payment for your services.”

“Wait, hold on,” Starscream piped up. “What’s this about the Apex Armor? Do we have that, now?” His optics were practically sparkling.

Oh, slag. The clone had run his mouth again.

“Had. Past tense. Don’t worry about it,” he said quickly. “Get out of the dirt, it’s time to go. Elizabeth!”

Starscream wobbled to his pedes. There was a rustling from the underbrush, and two humans emerged.

“Oh, I know you!” The inebriated seeker said, swaying unsteadily. “You’re the Autobots’ pet, uh... Human Milky!”

The Prime, his medic, and ‘Milky’ all gave him dirty looks. The clone wanted the ground to open up and swallow them both.

“Oh my god,” Elizabeth muttered, burying her face in her hands.

“It’s Miko,” the smaller human said flatly. “Remember that time in the cave, where you tried to kill me?”

Elizabeth looked between the two incredulously. Starscream waved her off with a limp servo.

“Don’t be so dramatic, I wouldn’tve killed you!” He drawled, and the clone had to catch him to hold him steady. “I was just going to bring you to Megatron! He probably would have killed you. Maybe.”

“Wow, that makes so much of a difference,” Miko deadpanned.

The Prime and the medic were glaring at them.

Starscream looked like he was going to say something even worse, so the clone put a servo over his mouth and started pulling him away.

“Alright, it’s time to leave,” he said. Starscream glared at him, but couldn’t seem to muster up the energy to fight him off.

“Wait up!” Elizabeth called.

The clone sighed and released Starscream, offering a servo for her to climb into.

“Why do you get to hold her?” Starscream whined. “I wanna hold Elizabeth!”

The clone grabbed his arm and began marching away from the humiliating scene they’d just created.

“You’d drop her,” he snapped. “Let’s go.”

“Goodbye!” Starscream called to the displeased Autobots, looking over his shoulder and waving clumsily.

The clone tugged him along more insistently, dearly hoping that he would never see the Prime, his medic, or their human ever again.

...

‘ Soundwave: in possession of important intel. ’

The comm message startled Megatron out of his strategizing, and he turned away from the Nemesis’s viewport with a raised optical ridge.

“Yes, Soundwave?” He asked impatiently.

He had been plotting something splendid- ending, of course, with Optimus’s gruesome demise.

He could see it now: the Prime would be horribly wounded after a long, intense one-on-one battle in front of both of their respective factions, as a result of Megatron’s superior combat skills.

He would be standing over him, driving in the crushing agony of defeat both figuratively, as he explained to the Prime why was such a failure, and literally , with his pede on Optimus’s chest- right above his spark chamber-

‘ Lazerbeak: acquired intel during patro ,’ Soundwave interrupted, displaying an aerial photo of Starscream and his clone standing with the Autobots.

Peacefully.

“It seems Dreadwing’s assumptions were correct,” Megatron growled. “Starscream has abandoned the Decepticon cause for the Prime. ”

Megatron refused to admit it, but that burned.

How dare he. How dare he?

Megatron had given that little traitor freedom, power, meaning- and this was what he received in return?

He should have seen this coming. Starscream had developed a penchant for treachery and deceit, despite Megatron’s best efforts to cull his thirst for power. He had given the wretch an inch, and he had tried to take a mile.

He’d done everything he could to keep him under control: humiliation, pain, isolation, forced dependency, undermined authority- the list went on.

Yet, as the war stretched on, Starscream began to deteriorate from a capable soldier and commander to a greedy, cowardly wreck. He had used his talents- talents which Megatron had helped him to cultivate- to bite the servo that fed him, protected him, given him chance after chance after chance...

Going rogue was one thing. Megatron had been confident Starscream would come crawling back, sniveling and begging for another chance as he always did after his little temper tantrums, having learned his lesson for the time being.

And, depending on what he had to bring to the table, Megatron may have been lenient.

But, to join his hated enemies, who had once thrown him to the scraplets? To abandon Megatron altogether, as if he didn’t owe him his very spark?

Disgraceful.

Starscream had sunk to a new low, and Megatron was finished trying to salvage whatever usefulness the seeker had left to offer the him. The traitor deserved not a minute more of his time or attention.

“Soundwave,” Megatron said, “cease your search for Starscream’s whereabouts.” He turned back to the viewport, already planning new and painful ways to kill the Autobots. “It seems we now know where he’s hidden himself.”

If he ever saw that miserable, pathetic excuse for a mech again, Megatron was going to rip his spark out of its casing.

...

Soundwave nodded at the order, reluctantly deleting his file of potential temporary hiding places for the former Second in Command.

He hadn’t been able to investigate them all, but he was relieved that he wouldn’t have to waste time visiting either halves of the Harbinger.

He cooed praise to Lazerbeak over their bond, happy to be able to focus all his energy on the tasks that required more attention.

Chapter Text

Starscream wasn’t pouting. He was an adult, he did not pout.

He was simply expressing his displeasure.

“Stop pouting,” his clone said. “Until you’re right in the head again, you’re grounded.”

As if taking orders from his subordinate wasn’t humiliating enough, Elizabeth was stifling giggles. Badly.

Starscream bristled.

“And who,” he sneered, waving his servo about in what he felt was an elegant, expressive gesture, “saw fit to put you in charge?”

The clone caught his servo that, for some reason, was in a completely different place than he’d intended it to be.

“ Me, ” he said. “You’re clearly too incapacitated to make informed decisions at the moment.”

Wait a minute.

That sounded familiar...

“Aha!” Starscream crowed, jabbing a digit in his clone’s face. “Treachery! Insubordination! You’re trying to get rid of me!”

The clone gave him an exhausted (and probably completely deceptive) look, brushing his servo away.

“That’s absurd,” he deadpanned.

Starscream shook his head vigorously, ignoring his clone because he was a liar!

“It’s not gonna work!” He declared, with all the defiance and dignity of his station.

“Stop squawking,” the clone replied. “Go recharge.”

“ Never! ”

The clone sighed.

“Come, Elizabeth,” he said. “We’re going scouting. You,” he pointed at Starscream, “are going to rest until your systems are fully repaired. Have I made myself clear?”

How dare he?!

Elizabeth must have noticed the mulish look on his face, because she crossed her arms and leveled him with a stern glare.

“Do it, or I’ll cry,” she threatened.

That devious little rodent!

“... Fine,” Starscream relented. “But, do not think that this is the end of this discussion! I will not be usurped!”

“Okay,” Elizabeth said, then turned to the clone. “We going, or what?”

The clone offered her a servo to hop onto and left the ship. A few seconds later, Starscream heard the sounds of transformation and takeoff.

Well, now Elizabeth wasn’t here to cry, so he would not recharge! They were both probably just waiting for him to let his guard down, ready to strike at any moment!

He’d show them!

...

The pair was quiet as the clone tore through the sky. Elizabeth fidgeted minutely.

It was strange to have someone in his cockpit- especially someone so fragile. He was hyper-aware if every movement he made, careful not to do anything that could upset Elizabeth’s delicate organic constitution.

Really, it was no wonder humans didn’t live very long (and he would forever deny the flare of anxiety that thought brought to him every single time it passed through his processor). He felt like one of those angry jumping creatures in Australia with the pouches.

“We’re not getting in any fights, are we?” Asked Elizabeth. “I don’t think I can handle another one of those, emotionally.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the clone replied. “We’ve got plenty of fuel right now, we’re simply scouting for potential resources in the future. Neither of you can give me backup, so we’re not risking it.”

“Neat,” Elizabeth said. The clone hummed. “... Are you alright?”

Where had that come from?

“Of course,” he replied. “I’m not the one who’s injured, after all.”

Elizabeth fidgeted again.

“I just mean that you seem a little... I don’t know.”

Starscream couldn’t see her (he had never needed sensors on the inside of his own cockpit, after all), but he knew somehow that she was screwing up her face in thought in that way of hers, when she was trying to figure out how to properly word something.

“Upset,” she decided, and before he could reply: “That is, for reasons other than the Apex Armor fiasco.”

...Well.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the clone said.

“You’ve just been kind of closed off.” Elizabeth sighed. “It feels like I hang out with Starscream more.”

And that was just it, wasn't it? Elizabeth was Starscream’s human, not his.

Even if he’d been Starscream, once. At least in his memories.

He would never forget that strange, stabbing disappointment he’d felt when he’d awakened in that pod, no longer himself. (He wondered if his brethren had felt it, too- then pushed the thought away as quickly as it had come.)

He was Starscream (he had to be), but he was not Elizabeth’s companion.

...He had missed her.

“You do know that you’re just as important to me, right?” She asked, after he had been silent too long. He didn’t respond. “I’m worried about you.”

That did something strange to the clone’s spark. He decided not to investigate too deeply into whatever it was.

“No need to be,” he said. “Everything is perfectly fine.”

Elizabeth dropped the subject, but he could tell she was unconvinced.

...

Arcee didn’t know what she was doing.

Actually, she did, but she didn’t know why.

Another lie- she knew exactly what she was doing and why, and bemoaned the loss of her good sense.

She had managed to pilfer a blank datapad off of Ratchet, and found herself scrolling through Starscream’s blog.

She didn’t even know what she was looking for-

Wait, no. Yes she did.

And so far, she hadn’t found it.

She didn’t know why she wanted it so badly.

...That was true.

Feeling bad didn’t fix anything. ‘Sorry’ didn’t bring people back.

She knew he wasn’t sorry...

But she kept scrolling.

Something about liking birds that would be almost endearing if it came from literally anyone else. Some rant or another that took awhile to get past.

She’d killed people before. Mostly in self-defense.

There were a few ‘Cons to whom she’d given ends they probably didn’t deserve (who Optimus would definitely not approve of killing) after Tailgate had been murdered.

Sometimes, she wondered if she’d left someone just like her in her wake. If so, they were probably all dead.

Needless to say, she felt guilty. It was all she could do at that point.

Starscream didn’t feel guilty. Starscream wasn’t doing the bare minimum.

She didn’t know why she expected him to.

A post about Elizabeth. A post about Elizabeth. A post about-

‘My new lieutenant is a strange one.

Yesterday, she stepped on some form of insect (I couldn’t quite tell) and became unbearably distraught.

I tried to assure her that its death was meaningless, and that it probably wouldn’t have survived the week anyway, but somehow that made it worse.

She insisted upon having a funeral for it, and now there’s a little pile of dirt outside covered by a small rock (she scratched ‘RIP’ into it- I suspect that must be the name she gave the creature).

It reminded me of someone I hate, but I do not find myself annoyed with her foolishness.

It’s been a long time since all the people I knew that were like that either died or changed.’

Arcee stared at the screen. Her servos shook.

Once, Cliff had accidentally run over a squirrel.

He’d felt terrible about it, and had made the whole team attend its impromptu funeral in a remote mountain range where no one could see them.

He’d given a fairly short eulogy. Optimus had made a speech.

The pile of rocks they’d left was probably still there.

‘...Either died or changed.’

‘...Either died...’

‘...Died...’

And Starscream had the nerve to complain that all the nice people were dead, as if he hadn’t killed them himself.

She threw the datapad against the wall with a scream.

Chapter Text

They landed high in the mountains.

The clone kept Elizabeth in his cockpit when he shifted into root mode, allowing her a moment to process the change before creeping to the edge of a snowbank and peering over.

Oh, yes- he remembered this mine.

Small, not heavily fortified, minimal output. Two guards at the entrance, no more than ten miners.

He’d intentionally kept it sparsely occupied, just in case he should ever have need of it- too small to be of any significance to Autobots or Decepticons alike.

It seemed that had not changed in his absence.

There was precious little energon here, from the perspective of a heavily-armed warship, but for two (smallish) seekers? Whatever was left could most likely sustain them both for a couple weeks.

“Excellent,” he purred.

“What’s going on?” Elizabeth asked. “I can’t see anything except for snow.”

Oops.

“Just confirming my suspicions,” he replied. “This remains a potential source of energon for us.”

“Neat!”

The clone crept back until he was out of earshot of the drones, and was preparing to take off when he saw a brief flash of green out of the corner of his optic.

“What was that?” Elizabeth asked.

“...A groundbridge,” the clone replied. “We should investigate.”

He could feel Elizabeth shudder.

“No. Nuh-Uh. What if they attack?” The clone frowned.

“They’ll see me leaving either way,” he said. “It’s best to know what I’m dealing with beforehand, so I know what to expect.”

Elizabeth curled up into a ball.

“I don’t like this,” she muttered.

The clone sighed, and opened the bottom of his cockpit to drop her into his servo.

“I’ll come retrieve you when I’m finished, then,”  he said, depositing her at the base of a builder to block the wind.

Thankfully, she had had the foresight to bring a thick blanket with her this time.

“Fine,” she said. “Just don’t take too long.”

“I certainly don’t intend to exchange pleasantries,” he replied. “Scream if you need anything.”

Elizabeth nodded. They had yet to come up with a functioning communication system (phones didn’t take comm channel frequencies, sadly).

With that, he tip-toed through the snowy forest, trying not to acknowledge his own apprehension.

...

Arcee stared at the small pile of rocks on the ground, feeling empty.

She didn’t know why she’d gone to the squirrel grave. It just felt like somewhere she needed to be.

Cliff had liked Earth’s fauna. She’d never bothered to ask why.

She wished she had.

There were pedesteps crunching in the snow somewhere behind her, and she whirled around, blasters raised, to find the last person she wanted to see in the world.

“What are you doing here?” She asked coldly.

Starscream drew blasters of his own.

“There’s no need to get violent,” he said, with his usual touch of mockery. “I was just in the area.”

She could kill him, here and now, and nobody would know it was her. Nobody would even know he was dead, except for his weird clone thing and that human that liked him so much.

Her blasters warmed.

She was finding it difficult to care about the people he would leave behind. She couldn’t bring Cliff back, but at the very least she could keep this monster from hurting anyone ever again.

She kept telling herself that that was her motivation. Something noble, that Optimus would do- not the whirlwind of hurt and rage that was building every second she had to look at his ugly face.

“Well?” Starscream asked, cocking his head. “I’m not in the mood to fight, to be honest. I have other matters to attend to.”

“Shut up,” Arcee snapped. “You don’t get to be so casual about this. You don’t get to act like it’s nothing personal!”

Starscream raised an optical ridge.

“War isn’t personal unless you make it so,” he said matter-of-factly, as if he hadn’t hurt so many people for so long without a second thought. As if none of it mattered to him.

Arcee’s lip curled.

“Is that what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night?”

Starscream bristled. Good.

She wanted him to give her a reason to start shooting.

“Haven’t you killed your fair share of enemies?” He asked. “Seems to me that you’re being a bit hypocritical.”

Arcee had. In battle. Not even the ones she regretted were in non-combat situations.

“I know you,” she sneered. “There was no way it was fair fight, not if you were involved. There was one of him and hundreds of ‘Cons.”

“And yet, he still went in,” Starscream purred.

Arcee shot a tree not too far behind his head, looking him dead in the optics so he knew it was a warning. He flinched before he could stop himself.

That brought a curl of dark satisfaction to her, but she wanted to hurt him. To kill him.

Just keep digging your own grave, you bastard.

“Do you want a fight, or not?” Starscream snapped. “Standing around isn’t going to accomplish anything!”

Arcee wanted a fight. She wanted Starscream to hurt.

But, that wouldn’t accomplish anything. He wasn’t really a threat, now, and it wouldn’t bring back the dead.

Killing him would amount to nothing except a testament to her own brutality.

Damnit.

“You put away your weapons first,” she commanded.

“What?!” He squawked. “And leave myself unarmed when you want to kill me?!”

“I won’t shoot an unarmed opponent,” she said. “I’m not like you.”

Starscream stared at her for a moment, as if analyzing something.

“I suppose you aren’t, are you?” He muttered, transforming his blasters away.

Arcee reluctantly did the same, still glaring at him.

“I’ll be going, then,” Starscream finally said. “Tell your Prime to ask the humans about ‘veal.’”

He turned and began walking away. Arcee itched to shoot him the back, as disgusting as such an action would be.

There he went, leaving her with more questions than answers. Again.

The two-wheeler clenched her fists.

“Wait,” she called.

Starscream paused, glancing over his shoulder.

“What is it, now?” He sneered.

Arcee pursed her lips.

“When you- when you saved me-” the words felt bitter in her mouth. “You said you owed me. As if not killing you was a favor.”