Chapter Text
Somewhere distantly, the sound of Starscream’s laughter echoed and bounced across the walls of the Nemesis in his own memories.
It became nothing more than a background hum to him, given that Starscream’s undivided attention was trained solely on the larger mech in front of him.
His mind, and the memories stored within, were all supposed to be…well, private. Such things had been kept only for himself to analyze and reminisce over, not for them to be intruded upon and displayed like some daily news the fleshlings watch.
Regardless, Megatron was here, with him, inside his mind, doing just that. No matter, no mind! It’s not like the warlord could hurt him here, thankfully. He could only harm him in reality, but that would be a problem for future Starscream.
The present-tense seeker had more pressing matters to deal with. As if the memories currently flashing by weren’t humiliating enough, Starscream knew there were far worse ones that weren’t so far off. Tucked safely in some chamber in his mind, one that he rarely delved into, he’d only hoped that Megatron would find what he was looking for, and jail or execute him swiftly before any of those recollections came to light.
Despite the fact that Starscream had no need to breathe, barely had the means to breathe besides his intake and derma, the air in his…mind…(was there even air in this space?) felt stuffy. It wasn’t hard to locate the source, the problem was Lord Megatron- who was, frankly, standing far too close for comfort.
With a click of his stiletto-heeled pedes, Starscream took a cautionary step away from the imposing mech, who’s optic ridges were furrowed so deeply that Starscream half wondered if they’d get stuck just like that.
“You see, there are no secrets in here. Only your memories.”
“You cannot manipulate their content, nor modify the outcome… What we see,” Megatron waved his servo, gesturing to the expansive space of nostalgia. “Is how it happened.” He finished, his expression tangled somewhere between anger and amusement.
Distantly once more, more memories played through - demands of his new title, the chanting, the celebration on his own part…Starscream mimicked an intake-clearing, with his helm turned pointedly to the side - unable to glance at anything but a blank wall of the Nemesis.
The noise just barely caught the warlord’s attention, who sneered as he only leaned closer - with merely a gap separating the two mechs, Starscream grew visibly agitated. “Where did we leave off?” Megatron spoke through gritted denta, “Oh. Yes. ‘All hail Starscream’, a rather obvious motif, Starscream .” His voice tumbled through Starscream’s audial receptors, heavy, and gravelly. And angry.
“You deem yourself more able to lead the Decepticons than I?!” He barked the question, his tone laced with nothing but pure venom, and with each cautionary step Starscream took backwards, Megatron took a larger, offensive step towards him.
“No, no! Not anymore!” Starscream instinctively raised his servo’s in a ‘I surrender’ fashion, with his clawed digits trembling ever so slightly - a minute detail he’d only hoped Megatron wouldn’t pay any mind to.
Unfortunately for him, his wishes went unanswered. Megatron was quite perceptive (he just usually chose to ignore stupid things like these, but somewhere in the warlord’s own mind, he stored this detail.).
In a flash of movement, Megatron reached forward - and before Starscream could turn wing and run, he grabbed his servo’s in his own much larger ones, his grip resembling an uncomfortably tight vice. “Then why, pray-tell, Starscream,” Megatron shook Starscream’s hand roughly. “Are you shaking?! Would one who is not guilty have nothing to fear?!”
Before Starscream could muster up his best excuse or lie, the scene surrounding them faded away softly. Both mech’s glanced away from each other, staring in confusion at the new scene that was unfolding.
The background of the recollection was fuzzy at the edges, the location seeming almost unrecognizable - but, in a distant, drowned out sort of way, the two of them heard a deep laughter. It wasn’t one of joy or humor, but it definitely sounded amused.
Starscream’s optics widened to the size of two small planets, and without a second thought, he began struggling to the best of his ability (Which wasn’t much, but he’d do his best anyways, lest this scene spill itself on display with Starscream still kept in Megatron’s proximity.).
Having recognized the sound immediately, he began attempting to yank his servo free. This only caused Megatron’s grip on him to tighten, all but dragging the smaller jet towards him once more. Somewhere along his arm, he could feel a tight tension run itself through his cabling, causing pain to tremble throughout his sensors.
His safety sensors were also loudly ringing, indicating that they, too, would like nothing more than to slip away from this horror entirely.
Unfortunately, there weren't many places he could escape to. So, Starscream was forced to bear witness as Megatron would soon realize just who’s laughter it was.
It was his, after all.
Apparently the background was deemed entirely unimportant to Starscream’s processor, as the only part of this memory that showed clearly was Megatron, smiling maliciously.
A look of poorly concealed confusion painted itself across present tense Megatron’s facial plating, and with narrowed optics, he glanced at Starscream - wordlessly asking for an explanation.
Starscream, who offered no clarification, was shaken once more by Megatron’s strong grip.
“You laugh, a lot! Okay? It’s more than likely an error in my processor, it’s nothing to focus–”
And with that, the memory slipped away once more. Painting a new scene rather quickly to replace the last, the colors of the space changed drastically from a deep, dark purple to a much softer shade - something resembling a lilac hue.
And the recollection was of Megatron, again. This time it was of him pacing in the command center. Megatron could make out vague silhouettes of some decepticons, though they blended in with the background, since, once again, the main focus was on himself.
The memory wasn’t anything of significance. Just him walking, back and forth, seemingly lost in thought; not sparing a glance to Starscream who was watching him, just a little too intently.
In the present tense, Starscream could feel his facial plates internal heating begin to rise, and softly, his fans began to whirr - as much as he tried to keep the sound quiet and unnoticeable, Megatron also docked this detail into his processor.
This memory, a memory of Megatron saying something along the lines of ‘good work, Starscream’, flashed by. The audio played itself over three times more, and with each passing of the sound, Starscream felt as though his face would melt off from all the excess heat.
Another memory played, then another, and another. All of them centered entirely on Megatron, whether it was a conversation with a soldier, a scene of him wiping energon off of his servo’s after slaying an enemy, or a simple recollection of him just looking at Starscream - all of it played, much to Starscream’s dismay.
Without missing a beat, each memory Starscream had ever kept played through, like some sort of gag reel.
With the scenes still passing and flashing, Megatron’s optics were glued on them. He watched his life through Starscream’s optics for a while, and he’d gone…uncharacteristically quiet. It left the smaller jet a tad bit unnerved. He was unable to read the expression on Megatron’s face, mainly because he couldn’t bear to even glance up towards the mech.
After a moment that felt like an agonizing eternity, Megatron’s grip loosened considerably, until his touch was retracted entirely. Starscream pulled his servo’s protectively against his chassis, rubbing his wrist with intents to self soothe.
“Are you happy now, Lord Megatron?” His own voice slipped through his speakers with traces of venom that twinned with Megatron’s earlier tone. In this heavy silence, Starscream was the first to strike.
Having been forcibly laid bare, Starscream felt a large twinge of shame trickle through his spark, but simultaneously, there was the feeling of a substantial weight rolling off his shoulders. Though he would have preferred for this revelation to have been controlled by him, and to have gone at his pace, at least everything was laid down to rest.
When they awoke, Megatron would surely have enough evidence and reason to execute Starscream for treason. It would be for the best, anyways, lest he have to face Megatron after this ordeal.
The lights of the medical bay were optic-stingingly bright.
“Welcome back, Lord Megatron!” Knockout’s voice bounced through Starscream’s audial receptors, causing the jet to wince… Was he always so loud?
Assuming it was something along the lines of waking up too abruptly from a forced recharge, Starscream let his optics shutter to a close.
Dancing in and out of a sleep cycle, Starscream listened as Megatron slowly sat up from the medical berth, parallel to his own. The warlord was surprisingly quiet, still, as though he were shocked out of speech. That was fine with Starscream- he wasn’t sure if he was ready to hear Megatron’s voice again, after hearing so many audio clips echo throughout his processor.
Though suddenly, he heard whispers of a conversation.
Ah, those fools must have thought he’d fallen asleep.
“Check him over for any injuries,” Megatron said, with a tone that was unlike anything Starscrean had expected. The sound was almost…sullen. Forcing away the confusion that wanted to paint itself over his supposed recharging features, Starscream pitched up his audial receptors - to catch anything else Megatron might whisper to the doctor.
When there wasn’t any more sound (besides the door opening, and the heavy sounds of footsteps slowly receding.) Starscream released an ex-vent.
Knockout rolled his optics, and flicked his sharp digit against Starscream’s brow ridge. “Quite the show, I must say.” The muscle car said with very audible amusement evident. With Starscream’s audial receptors still pitched up high, the voice was obnoxiously loud, resulting in his facial plating scrunching up in a grimace.
When Knockout began to inspect Starscream for any visible injuries, Starscream suddenly jerked ‘awake’ (though Knockout didn’t suspect for a second that the jet was actually recharging.).
It had dawned on him only now, due to the fog of his forced awakening clouding it up earlier, that Knockout had access to every single memory that displayed itself earlier.
Knockout had seen everything.
“Pour me a poison, doctor.” Starscream ex-vented heavily this time.
“Would if I could, ‘Lord Starscream’, but I think Megatron would have my helm.” The doctor laughed at Starscream’s expense, and if it weren’t for the restraints holding him in place, Starscream would have strangled him.