Chapter Text
Starscream let out a yelp as Megatron threw him against the wall. There was no escape, there had never been any escape during the thousands of beatings he’d endured. And still, he felt himself try to scramble away and beg for Megatron to stop. Megatron rarely stopped.
Starscream believed the only reason Megatron had ever stopped those few times was to give a sense of hope that if Starscream just begged enough, just placated him enough, that maybe there was a chance.
Knockout patched him up. He always did, although he didn’t offer any comfort with it. Maybe Knockout knew if he got too close to Starscream, he’d become a target, too. Everyone Starscream was close to became a target.
Topped off with energon and with his wings somewhat functional, Starscream jumped from the Nemesis and into the night. Maybe this time, he’d actually leave. If he could manage not to starve, that is.
Optimus felt a sinking deep in his spark at the empty mine. Another failed energon raid. What the Decepticons lacked in morality, they made up for in resources. The hollow of his tanks made itself known, and he narrowed his optics, punching out at the wall of the cave.
“Optimus?” Arcee asked, field full of concern.
The Prime shook his head, trying to pull his emotions back in. He couldn’t show them, or the team would lose hope. They couldn’t know the extent of his desperation, his hunger, his sense of failure. His own hopelessness.
“I am in acceptable parameters,” he reassured, trying to sound normal.
Arcee touched his arm. “You don’t have to pretend,” she said gently.
Optimus looked at her, part of him wanting to give in. But he sensed her hunger and her disappointment and pain. No, he couldn’t burden her more. “There is no need for concern, Arcee.” He drew himself up to his full height. “Return to base. Tell the others not to worry, either. I will comm when I am ready to bridge back.”
Without waiting for her response, he walked from the cave, walking until he could no longer feel her field and knew it was safe to let his emotions roll off him in waves, where they would harm no one.
Heavy steps sounded closer and closer, and Starscream went rigid with fear. Megatron had hunted him down already? Usually he had far longer than this before his master chased him, or before he felt too fearful of the consequences to stay away any longer.
Should he hide and make his field as small as possible, and hope he wouldn’t be found? Should he beg and try to make an excuse for why he was out here, maybe say he had been searching for more energon?
He had just decided on the latter when he saw the red and blue, and it was too late to run or fly, not that his pained circuits were even up for that. And then Optimus locked optics with him.
Starscream backed away, raising his hands and hoping Optimus wouldn’t see him as a threat, that he would just let him go. Optimus always was more merciful than Megatron. Starscream backed into a tree and froze.
Optimus’ battle mask slid quickly into place, and he took on a defensive stance, weapons up and ready. But Starscream felt the heavy sorrow from Optimus, his vents catching in surprise.
He had experienced others’ sorrow, that was a part of war and killing and loss. He didn’t know anyone who had shown at once thousands of years of grief, anger, sorrow, hopelessness… Starscream slid to the ground. It wasn’t like he had a chance of defending himself, anyway, even if Prime attacked and he tried fighting back. Besides, he was pretty sure Optimus wouldn’t attack a bot who wasn’t fighting back.
“I’m not here to fight,” he said, keeping his hands up.
“Then why are you here?” Optimus asked. He noticed the freshly welded patches on Starscream’s frame. “What happened to you?”
Starscream quirked a brow. “What, you don’t recognize a disciplinary beating when you see one? I’m sure you’ve done the same to your underlings.”
Optimus lowered his weapons, but stayed alert. He knew he couldn’t trust Starscream not to try something. “Are you saying Megatron did this?”
“Don’t act so surprised, or like you don’t do it yourself. That’s how you keep bots in line, and keep them from treachery.”
“I have never intentionally harmed my team,” Optimus said. He felt a jolt of pain from his empty tank and crouched to the ground. “I can’t say I didn’t suspect Megatron treated his army this way. I’ve tried to ignore what he may be doing.”
Starscream eyed the Prime, then lowered his arms. “Yes, well, you’ve got enough of your own problems to worry about,” he said, but he could feel the fresh wave of Optimus' regret and sorrow adding on, harmonizing with the rest of the Prime’s sadness. Huh. Starscream never imagined any bot would feel sad on his behalf ever again, least of all the leader of the Autobots.
“Are you afraid to leave him?” Optimus asked.
The seeker nodded. “He’ll always find me, and if I stay away too long I’ll just be hurt worse than if I go back sooner.”
A sense of understanding flowed from Optimus, surprising Starscream. Optimus sensed the surprise. “I understand, because I was, as well. For different reasons-- I feared hurting him, by leaving him. And I wondered if I made the right choice, after, because he has tried for millennia to make me regret that choice.”
“Well, I don’t know if I could handle the consequences the way a Prime could,” Starscream dismissed the idea, even though a part of him wanted that still.
“I would help you, Starscream, if you were truly ready.”
Shock stunned him for a moment at the offer. He couldn’t mean that. But this was Optimus, he wasn’t known for being a liar. “Why?”
Optimus lifted his optics to look at the seeker. “Because freedom is your right. Because you deserve a chance to be the bot you want to be.”
Starscream snorted, trying to brush off the comment, but his spark held on to the words, and he heard them replay in his head as the two bots sat in silence for several minutes.
Optimus wasn’t sure if he should trust the coordinates Starscream had given him, before the seeker had flown back to the Nemesis. He went himself, not willing to risk his team. But there, underground, was an unguarded deposit of energon that could last weeks. He called in to his team to request a bridge, and by the end of the earth-day, he and his team felt full for the first time in a long time.