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The wind whipping through Starscream’s frame, chilling him to the core, was only a minor inconvenience. His joints cracked and popped as he trudged uphill through the powdery snow, but he paid the sounds no mind. If it had been any colder and on any other night, he would’ve been worried his spark might freeze over, but tonight, that didn’t sound like too bad a fate. It wasn’t the fault of his team, of course; the other seekers were perfectly fine, Soundwave and the minis were decent, even Shockwave was usually tolerable. Hell, Thundercracker had tried to keep Starscream from coming out here tonight, pulling at his wrist and rambling about the snowstorm right up until the former scientist had wrenched his hand from his grasp and ran out. He should apologize for that later, he thought. If he ever made his way back, that is. He was already so tired…collapsing atop the hill, he sighed softly, barely registering the cold touch of the snow on his frame as he sat looking out over the valley below.
“...If you could only see this place now, Skyfire…you’d be happy to see what it’s become…” Why he bothered wasting what little energy he had left on talking to someone he’d last seen a few millennia ago on the other side of the planet was beyond Starscream; he heard the words before he realized he’d opened his mouth. Something about it just felt…right. As right as any of this could possibly feel, at least. No matter how much time passed, no matter what he managed to accomplish, the loss of his best friend still weighed heavily on him. Victories weren’t as sweet without Skyfire there to celebrate with him, and losses were all the more bitter. Even this view, the sight of the valley he had come to visit every few centuries since the storm had taken his Skyfire from him, felt lacking. He always expected to be more impressed by how much had changed since his last visit, to be more curious about how it all happened, and yet he was always disappointed. He had started noticing that a lot, recently. Science just…didn’t hold his attention like it used to.
There was nothing he could have done. He knew that, he’d been told that, and he reminded himself of that yet again as he closed his optics, laying back in the snow. There was no point in searching the Arctic for him for what must have been the hundredth time, and there was even less of a point scanning the valley for any signs that he might be there. They had come here a few times simply for the sake of exploration. That didn’t mean they would be reunited here. Still, if he hadn’t laid back, Starscream knew he would have been tempted to search the area, just like he did the last time he came here, and the time before that. Stupid. Pointless.
He was getting too tired for this…How many times could he come back here, only to be met with nothing? The resources it cost to get to this useless rock weren’t worth it if he couldn’t bring anything back, and such sentimentality didn’t make him look very strong…besides, he could only do so much for the Decepticons- for HIMSELF- while he still clung to the past. He had to move on… ”Skyfire…” There was so much the seeker wanted to say, but exact words were hard to grasp. Slowly, he pushed himself upright, and even more slowly, he dragged himself to standing, staring down over the sheer drop that led into the valley below. “...I’ll come back for you someday. I will…” He took off from the ledge, using the last burst of energy he could muster to climb above the snow and clouds. It was so serene up here…the sky was clear, and though the air was cold, the light of the sun made Starscream feel just a little bit warmer…but something was still missing.
Thundercracker and Skywarp wouldn’t want him to stay out here all night. They hadn’t even wanted him coming out here to begin with. He had new friends now, and a job, and a team to get back to…As much as it hurt to leave empty-handed yet again, he knew he had to get home. Maybe next time, he’d be bringing his Skyfire back with him. Whenever that next time was. If there even was one. Could he afford to think like that? Skyfire still needed him, so of course there would be a next time…then again, he couldn’t keep wasting resources on these trips when he hadn’t found so much as a sliver of chipped paint he could use to prove that his old partner was even THERE, let alone that he might still function. His leader’s patience with him was already wearing thin, and the seeker didn’t fancy the idea of being on the receiving end of whatever would happen when it completely ran out. He could be bold, and brash, and more than a little opinionated, but he wasn’t stupid; he quite liked his wings where they were, and he wouldn’t put it past his commander to tear one off if he really pushed him. He had already secured himself the position of air commander, but if he wanted to have a chance at climbing the ranks any further- and he absolutely did- he needed to be careful…He needed to prove he could be strong and calculating, and that he cared about the cause above all else.
Skyfire would have understood. Starscream wanted so desperately to be sure of it. It didn’t take much to convince himself that his partner would have wanted him to move on, to pursue the rank of Lieutenant Commander with everything he had, to stop living in hazy memories of a frigid past and for once, instead of looking at where experiments had gone wrong and what he possibly could have done to stop them from failing, to look at what use the data could still have, to what the future could hold…He would have wanted Starscream to make a new hypothesis instead of fighting against old results. Skyfire had always been so supportive…surely, this would have been no different. As the seeker landed beside the rickety little craft that had gotten him here and prepared to make his way back home, he told himself in as many different ways as he could that his ex-partner wouldn’t mind. He’d understand. He had to. Because he always had. Because he was so selfless. He HAD to understand.
Because Starscream didn’t know what he would do with himself if he didn’t.