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Starscream never got confused.
The second-in-command of the Decepticons had his own notions about the human beings of earth. Notably, that they were cowardly, squishy, and pathetic.
And worst of all, they never shut up.
So when Lord Megatron returned to the hull of the Nemesis through the ground bridge with Breakdown in tow, the last thing the commander expected to see in the blue brute’s servos was one the very same fleshies he despised.
Except, this one was unfamiliar to him. Not one of the Autobots’ pets, no- either this one knew their place to not meddle in their affairs, or it was truly just a random, unassociated human. But as Starscream locked eyes with the little creature as Breakdown passed by, only one question formed in his head.
Why?
“Merely a tactical advantage, Starscream,” the Decepticon warlord once informed him as he sharpened his retractable arm blade in the war room. “Having a human in the ranks seems to have served the Autobots well time and time again.”
“But, my liege,” the seeker argued, “humans bring nothing but trouble wherever they go. Consider what happened to Breakdown, what happened to me.”
“And you will get your just desserts,” the former gladiator hissed. “But this human bears skills that are useful for us at this time. After all, at the rate he is going, Soundwave cannot decode the entirety of the Iacon database alone if we wish to be a step ahead of the Autobots.”
You were an archivist, then. That’s what this was about. Days on the warship passed, and slowly, Starscream gathered bits and pieces of information about you during your medical check-ins with Knockout or lessons in decoding in Cybertronian with Soundwave.
The more accurate title for your job on this planet was “librarian,” not “archivist,” as you so loved to point out. You refueled and recharged constantly, and you insisted on these things being done in private. There was also the matter of human waste disposal, which- no matter how you convinced Knockout or Soundwave- Starscream knew was a lie. No organism in their right mind would ever dispose of waste in such a manner!
Nevertheless, the thing you always made most clearly known was the fact that you did not want to be here.
Countless times, Vehicons and higher ranking officers have found you in areas outside of your designation- trying to find some method of escape, no doubt. In the halls, behind data consoles- once, even inside the vents. But Soundwave hears and sees all, so all it took was one report to the nearest officer to scoop you back up and bring you back to the data room.
That day, the unlucky bot who had to return you to your quarters was the commander himself.
Grumbling to himself as he dismissed the ping he’d received from the communications officer, Starscream turned the corner to follow the coordinates he had been sent.
There, at the end of the violet hued hall, stood you.
You looked to and fro in a panic. You were met with an intersection, one you were unfamiliar with. One path would lead you further into unknown territory- where you meant to go- and the other would loop you back around to the data room. You needed to make the right choice, and fast—
“Feeling indecisive, are we?” A familiar, grating voice echoed from behind you. You jumped as you whipped around, craning your head further and further back as Commander Starscream approached with steps that trembled the steel floor beneath you. “You appear a bit lost, little archivist,” he said as he leaned forward to hover directly over you.
“Librarian,” you corrected through gritted teeth.
Starscream clicked his glossa in distaste. “Details, details. As long as you’re doing what Lord Megatron orders- and you are, or else you’d be little more than a red stain on the flooring- I really couldn’t care less of your position.”
You wanted to wipe that smug grin off of his face so badly. Despite the fact that getting back home was your main priority, you had to admit, you couldn’t say you hated Soundwave or Knockout’s company by this point. They were civil, at the very least.
With Starscream, however, he made it clear to you from day one just how little he wanted to do with you. You shared the sentiment, remembering how you returned his icy stare the day you entered the warship. So when the Decepticon crouched down to reach for you, you bolted in the other direction.
“What?!” The seeker exclaims as he watches you tear down the hallway to your left. He rolls his optics- did you always give the others this much trouble when you ran off? He raises himself up and stalks back over to you, his strides much larger than your own.
That is, he would have, were it not for a figure down the hall that froze him in his tracks.
Lord Megatron. And you, daring to run between his legs to continue your escape.
Quick as lightning, the warlord snatches you up in a single fist, optics flicking back between you and Starscream with an optical ridge raised questioningly. “Would any of you care to explain why the human-“ he shakes the fist he holds you with for emphasis- “is outside of its quarters?”
“Ah, my lord!” Starscream approaches his superior with caution. “I was just in the middle of pursuit!”
“Were you now?” The behemoth asks skeptically. “I didn’t think that allowing the organic to scurry across the floor long enough for me to catch it was considered ‘pursuit’.”
“Ah, well, you know how humans are,” Starscream insisted, “this one in particular is quite slippery. It’s quite fond of slipping away unnoticed until we find it again.”
“And yet, knowing this, you continue to allow it to happen.”
“N-No, my liege!” The seeker raises his servos defensively. “We work tirelessly to keep the human in check. It’s simply due to its size that it manages to, er, avoid our radar.”
“You’re doing fine work of telling me things I already know, Starscream,” the warlord leans down to stare Starscream in the optics, “But I asked why the human is out of its quarters.”
“Hey!” A shout involuntarily bursted from your throat as you slammed your free arms onto the top of Megatron’s claws, and suddenly two pairs of red optics were focused on you. Your breath hitches under their scrutinizing gaze, and you know you have to continue quickly, or else they’d go back to talking about you as if you weren’t in the room.
“Starscream is right,” you say despite the fact that every survival instinct in your body objected to it. “He and the other officers catch me all the time. Most of the time I’m locked in the data room, doing what you brought me here to do. I was just unlucky enough to run into you this time.”
The gaze that Megatron gave you bore holes into your very self. He looks at you for a long time, and you try your best to keep up appearances. Then, with a scoff and a scowl, he tears his gaze away from you and looks back to Starscream.
He raises the fist that holds you over to the commander. Starscream only had a moment to bring up with his servos below before the warlord unclenches his fist and lets you drop down. You land into the palms of the second-in-command’s servos with a thud, and you quickly reorient yourself to look where he was facing.
“This will not happen again,” the Decepticon leader grumbles. His optics are locked with Starscream’s before he glances down at you. “And if it does, I will do what is necessary to assure it does not ever again.” And with that, Megatron pushes past the commander and continues down the hallway, leaving the two of you stunned as you watch him turn the corner with his heavy metallic footfalls following suit.
Once he was gone, you heaved a sigh of relief, absentmindedly leaning a hand on one of Starscream’s claws. The seeker lightly shook his servos, causing you to stumble and lose your grip, taking you out of your stupor. As you rebalanced yourself, Starscream’s optics reduced themselves to slits.
“Why?”
“What?” You ask, only half-listening as you try to find the best way to place yourself on the platform that was the commander’s servos. All your work was for naught, however, as he raised his hands closer to his face, disrupting your balance once more and landing you on your ass.
“Why did you defend me?” He spoke slowly and carefully, his raspy voice rumbling with every syllable.
Oh, that’s what this was about. “Listen, I don’t like you any more than I do than I do the other aliens on this ship,” you begin, not even bothering to pick yourself back up onto your feet. “I just wanted to see that Megatron guy get annoyed more than I wanted to see you get beat into a metal pulp.”
Apparently, Starscream doesn’t deign your words worthy of a response, as he only continues to examine you for a moment before tilting you off of the middle of his servos into just one, bringing the now free one down to his side. Wordlessly, he continues down the opposite direction of where you were headed, likely back to the data room.
Oh, well. Standing in his palm was better than being trapped in a fist.
Once he dropped you off onto a data console beside Soundwave, he was quick to make his exit. But rather than continuing down the hall and returning to his duties, the commander pressed his back to the wall just beside the door and began to think.
The mech thought he knew humans well. They were cowardly, squishy, pathetic things. But you were no coward, and one could argue you weren’t totally pathetic.
Despite the fact that you were an unwilling passenger on the ship, you didn’t throw everyone under the bus at every opportunity. If he wasn’t certain it was the farthest from the truth, the seeker would dare say you respected him. Which was more than what the bot normally got from the ship.
Starscream never got confused.
So what was the strange, warm feeling that tugged on his spark?