Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The perception of time has always been a funny thing. Cybertronians, humans, any complex being amongst the stars clocked it differently. For Starscream, any means of organizing it was always a tactical, professional asset. If you thought time could be used recreationally without thought, you were a fool. Any time that wasn’t strictly clasped into submission to fill its roll would become sluggish, warped, and glitchy at best. It was yet another one of those things that would never be your friend.

Like now, for instance, Starscream was bored. So. Unbelievably. Bored.

So he paced. He had to think of something to get out of this Primus forsaken Titan. After obtaining the full power of the shattered Emberstone with Spitfire and Aftermath’s help, his memory had become filled with even more oh so helpful static. How had he lost? He had the Decepticon army, even if it was rather miniscule on Earth. He had the power of a Prime. A Titan under his will. He had it all under control. All planned out. Everything had gone perfectly!

Something had happened when the chaos energy sparked from the corrupted Emberstone had flooded his systems. All he remembered seeing after borrowing Spitfire and Aftermath’s shards, and creating his gauntlet became… glazed in red light. He should have crushed the autobots and begun reshaping this pathetic planet into New Cybertron! Not suddenly have the power ripped away from him as this useless Titan ceased its pathetic functioning! What the frag happened?!

Nothing about that was right. No one should have stood in his way–

As Starscream began to pace faster, he growled and red lightning fluttered across the surface beneath his peds. The crimson light flickered in his vision but he only felt the jolt in his spark that made his violent rage rise.

“WHAT THE FRAG?! I cannot believe this. Of course. Of course! No. They should have all been ground to ASH beneath my ped. HOW did this happen?! HOW?! I obtained the most powerful weapon on this planet and STILL they pull some miracle out of their afts to-to MOCK ME?! I AM GOING TO KILL ALL OF THEM.” He slammed a fist against the wall, then proceeded to shoot his plasma cannon rapidly; they only created a meager dent.

He vented shakily before turning back to look at Spitfire and Aftermath, still lazily collapsed across the floor. With the Emberstone power released again shouldn’t they be getting off their afts by now? Perhaps they were still in stasis. He did suppose that the shard they carried sparked them, but surely they couldn’t be this reliant on a rock for the entirety of their function. The Terrans didn’t need pieces of the Emberstone to tramps around, so why should these two? They just needed energon. Or… whatever it was they ran on. Cave water…? Starscream recognized as his energy levels drifted down again, that the chaotic crimson lightning around them was retreating into the atmosphere and elsewhere in the Titan. Fuel would become a problem for all three of them if they didn’t find a way out of this.

What were the other Decepticaons doing? Pit, what were the Autobots doing?

Why hadn’t anyone come for them? He shouldn't be foolish enough to think the cons would try and break him out of this, especially if they’re now being hunted by the bots again. But at least the Autobrats wouldn’t just leave them up here in limbo. They wouldn’t trust it. They knew he was going to get out of here without them right? The idiots.

Then again, Starscream walked over to one of the Titan’s optic windows, apparently those Malto’s had created some sort of barrier around them and this part of the city. The scattered chaotic energy was made into some sort of odd weather pattern. Perhaps the bots thought this was enough. And he had seen a couple cons running around down there too. So the plan was to just leave them there. Of course.

He clasped his hands behind his back with a tense hold on his wrist to release some pressure within him. Then began to pace again in front of the window. Observing the happenings below, at some point he spotted Breakdown and Bumblebee conversing to some degree through the barrier. Then they started playing… card games? What idiots. Did they think they could have some sort of petty friendship through all this? They’re just a couple of low-grade fools down there. Laughing, having a bit of silly banter. Pathetic.

Starscream scoffed and commented through a sneer with a roll of his optics, “How quaint.”

Yet he watched. A part of him wishing he could join in. But that was too ridiculous of a feeling to indulge.

The two rustbuckets eventually dispersed and he found himself searching the sky instead. Then he spotted two jets shooting through the air, dodging clouds and shooting upwards in an attempt to ram the force field. His spark skipped in his chassis and he flung himself up against the optic window.

“SKYWARP! THUND- er–” Starscream cleared his throat with an embarrassed laugh, “N-novastorm! Hey! Get your afts down here and help me! What are you doing up there!? You can’t just ram an energy barrier you fools– Hey hey WAIT!” He hit his fist against the window again as he yelled desperately in an effort to gain their attention, but they couldn’t hear him.

They didn’t even look his way. Like he wasn’t even a second thought. After they gave up their useless ramming idea they just flew back down to ground level. Never hesitating and only voicing complaints to each other that he too couldn’t understand, although he could imagine.

Starscream’s wings tipped down in his own defeat. His expression was dismayed until the crimson lightning returned in a wave through the Titan and it twisted into a pained fury. Of course they don’t care.

“FINE! BE THAT WAY! SEE WHAT I CARE! I CAN GET OUT OF HERE WITHOUT YOU USELESS MECHS! See–” Starscream’s voice crackled a dangerous, humorless laugh– “THIS is exactly why you can’t count on anyone but yourself. THIS is why I never went out of my way to help those two. What have they ever done for me?! Whatever. They can get scrapped by those chaos clouds for all I care. Heheh… Oh you two understand don’t you?” He glanced back at the chaos Terrans as his eyes flickered between their blue and red. “Hm… I suppose we can’t have you rusting on the floor forever now can we.”

The chaos lightning leaves Starscream’s optics again, the odd surges going unnoticed by the mech in question. He first hefted Aftermath into a makeshift chair with significant effort. The mech was far too bulky to be convenient if you asked him. Then he went to Spitfire to carefully lift her smaller frame from the floor and thoughtfully sit her up against Aftermath on a table of sorts around the dimly lit spark of the Titan.

“Ugh, why must you two still be powered down? Even if you might not contribute much at all in getting us out of here, at least you could be more entertaining than this.” Starscream waved a hand judgmentally at them, and Spitfire had the gall to fall down face first from her position. “Oh don’t give me that sass Spitfire, I outrank you!” He scolded, to which she motionlessly mocked him. He gasped and put a hand to his chest dramatically, “How DARE you! It’s not MY fault– the-” Then Aftermath just stared at him with that stupid expression, and his head tilted to the side accusingly. “EXCUSE ME that you two had the last of the shards in you that I needed. You shouldn’t require those rocks to continue your function, and I don’t have them anymore anyway, the chaos energy exploded everywhere. So why has it not returned to you yet? That isn’t my doing! You just want to take your sweet time to spite me.” Starscream crossed his arms in a huff after having been animatedly waving them around.

After perhaps waiting a moment for a response his ped started tapping, and he hummed. “Hmm… we really need to find some means of fuel in this dump. Perhaps that is all you scrap heaps need to get moving.”

Starscream began wandering around the little room. Inspecting the streaks across the surfaces, the fact that the centerpiece topped with a glowing green orb was still lit, and the oddly organic flora sprouted around them. The light was clearly from the Titan’s dormant spark, and he doubted they could siphon power from it. The energon extractor spear likely wouldn’t work for that purpose, and he didn’t wish to test his luck and make the thing collapse with them in it. When Starscream reached out to touch the orange tinted bulb protruding from the tip of the flora, a flit of crimson static shocked him and he yelped as he flinched back.

Well, obviously the chaos energy is power, and was the core of those chaos Terrans. So surely he just needed to gather more of it again. This he was sure the spear could accomplish.

He retrieved the device from the table and stabbed it into the wall to pull out more of the escaped chaos energy from it. Then, pointed the spear at spitfire first, he always did like her better. He carefully operated it to release a stream of the gathered energy into the vacant spot left in her chassis. Lightning erupted across her frame and even leaked a bit into Aftermath as she leaned against him. But after her shaking subsided, and the energy depleted, she didn’t move any more than that.

Disappointing. And infuriating.

“AAAUGH! Why didn’t that work!?” Starscream’s hand holding the spear shook as the energy it loved was attracted to him, red flickering in his blue optics. He growled and pulled his free hand down his face, exasperated. Then threw the spear across the room, “Useless!” and stomped back over to the optic window.

As he looked down at the stupid landscape below, he spotted Bumblebee and… Trash and Mo? Trash was probably not the correct name but he didn’t care. It was funny. How did they get inside? Oh wouldn’t that make Breakdown happy, that the bug had known how to get inside yet never freed his supposed friend.

Then they actually looked up at him. This made anger surge in his spark. He wasn’t some sort of sight to see in a museum!

Starscream banged against the optic window and yelled, “You like what you see you slagging BRATS? Come up here and fight me cowards! This is all YOUR fault! You did this! Especially that little human and HER STUPID CYBER SLEEVE! The Emberstone should have never been discovered by you IDIOTS! Maybe none of this would have happened if you had kept your grimy little meat stumps out of where they DON’T BELONG!” His vents cycled rapidly as the red electricity surged through him, his vision now clouded in crimson. “You want to be little Primus damned HEROES but you are NOTHING but yet another threat to Cybertronian kind after the war! Mandroid huh? Guess what! He needed Quintus’ power for his death machine! We would not have needed saving if YOU didn’t exist!”

Now he was caught between pacing and destroying any surface leading to outside. He wasn’t even sure what he was saying anymore. Why he was saying it. The kids had helped Decepticons and him directly back then when they had never needed to. He wasn’t mad at them. He wasn’t. He hated G.H.O.S.T. He hated Megatron. He hated plenty of people. But how could he blame kids for any of this?

In this moment he fully felt again the power of the corrupted Emberstone stringing along his movements. His whole frame was shaking and his optics sparked violently as his weapons shot red plasma at the glass that was hardly fazed.

Eventually the chaotic energy died down and Starscream fell to his knees in the carnage. He shuttered as his vision flickered back into the correct hues. He forcibly straightened the speed of his vents as he pulled himself off the floor to whip around and face the chaos Terrans with a wild grin plastered on his faceplate.

“Oh I could never be mad about the existence of you two sweet sparks though right?!” Starscream’s optic twitched as his voice cracked. He strutted over to the two husks and bent down to put a hand around each of their shoulders. “We’re in this Pit together! It’ll be great! HAHA! YES!” He broke off again to grab the spear and prance around the room theatrically. “We will get out of here and show them all that we aren’t done yet, right guys?! Right! You agree with me Aftermath! Spitfire you know you still have to prove to that Twitch one you are superior, and we can’t do that from here! HAH! Well, maybe we could pretend–”

With a lack of books, it is a quite common thing in history to create stories orally, after all.

Chapter Text

More and more of the sun’s annoyingly repetitive up and down cycle over the horizon has come and gone. Starscream had determined that he didn’t have to worry too much about energon for now, with the chaos energy seeming to work for him as a sort of supplement. Aftermath and Spitfire have even been rather entertaining these last few cycles, despite their acting being rather lackluster. Seriously, did he have to do all the work? He’s already orchestrating a hundred percent of the dialogue.

Regardless, they were more fun than failing to break down the door, or the window, over and over again. Blasters didn’t work. Using the extractor didn’t work as some sort of remote like it did for Mandroid. The stupid door apparently only listened to Hashtag in that way. Why couldn’t he command energy into its circuits to yield to his will? What was the difference? And Primus, whose optics can handle so much punishment before cracking?? Why was it being this difficult? He should be out of here by now! As if this pathetic cage wasn’t the least of his worries with that damned dome out there that only the Malto’s seemed to be capable of opening.

He tossed the spear back and forth in his servos as he sighed in frustration. Then, a shutter rattled up his frame from his peds to wings uncomfortably, yet familiar as the chaos energy electrified his senses from one of its unpredictable surges. He had in-vented harshly and held it for a considerable amount of time as his systems absorbed the fuel to rejuvenate whatever energon he had left. After it subsided, he shook out his frame and cleared his throat.

Starscream's optics flickered with the crimson electricity, and with a shaky servo he rubbed them with annoyance. The odd side effects of this energy had started to become quite apparent to him, and they were… inconvenient. He didn’t need help feeling his anger, thank you, and the shaking. It made him too twitchy. He can’t make a fool out of himself by being a spazzy, erratic mess when the time came to face the others.

Starscream glanced back at Spitfire and Aftermath. At least they couldn’t verbally make fun of him, but the looks on their faces at his state still managed to show judgment as the surge dissipated from their frames. His optic twitched to spite him as it turned red for a moment before he turned his heel in their direction, waving around the spear.

“Oh HA-HA go ahead and laugh, sure, what else can you do hm? At least I am trying to figure something out.” Starscream knew they were thinking it. Knew they thought he was pathetic. They thought it was funny that the door wouldn’t listen to him. Would it listen to them? Well they won’t even get off their afts to try!

“Actually…” He started in thought as he strutted over to them with a little purr in his tone, “Maybe you could help. If it listened to the Terrans, perhaps it is simply a matter of CNA.” He picked up Spitfire and took her and the spear back towards the door. He carefully maneuvered the little drone to place her hand against it, then he injected her spark with more chaos energy to perhaps give a jump for it to receive the signal. The lights across the surface went red, but otherwise did nothing. Again.

His servos and wings shook violently with frustration, but upon feeling the strength of his growing grip around the small mech in his servo, he stiffened. Then ex-vented into a laugh. “Well! We tried! Good effort Sprite! You did great, grade-A performance! We just have a bit of a tough crowd.”

He reeled back around to the table and placed Spitfire back down to lean against Aftermath, this time arranging her arms to be crossed and one leg propped up. She kept tipping but he eventually got it to work. Then he pulled up Aftermath’s arm to try and have him lean his faceplace on his servo. This was even more precarious, but soon enough it was perfect. And they looked just a bit more like themselves, which made him smile just a bit more genuinely. He had even adjusted their optic lids to show a twinge of expression.

Why the surges hadn’t made them show some sort of signs of coming back online was beyond him. It’d been too long, some part of him knew, yet he still stubbornly thought they’d come to any cycle now. They’d be fine. Aftermath wasn’t nearly as likable or, frankly, bright, but he was certainly looking forward to hearing Spitfire’s snarky voicebox again. Even if she immediately overstepped her rank, which she would and possibly deserved too after everything, he wouldn’t care.

Now the pride he felt about his handiwork was tainted by some odd feeling in his spark that made him think of that Terran Hashtag. He certainly hoped she was not damaged in his efforts to forge New Cybertron. He wished it had been her that came with that other troop cycles ago, then maybe she would have… No most likely not. It’s dangerous in the dome, and she didn’t trust him anymore. Smart. She shouldn’t try and come here. Watch out for herself instead.

Starscream slid down to sit his back against the table towards the window. Primus he wished he could fly more than useless circles in this cramped place. Instead he prodded at the tip of the spear to feel the controlled little pricks against his plating. The sensation was something to focus on besides the dull faces of the chaos kids, Hashtag’s betrayed expression, the Decepticons, Autobots, G.H.O.S.T; he didn’t want to think about any of it.

Then he heard the blazing fire of a crashing ship, and saw it shoot across the Titan’s view to ram across the Earth’s surface. Starscream gasped in surprise and shot to his peds, “How did it not just hit the barrier…?” He vented with an air of bafflement, and glanced up at the sky to barely see it reshaping itself after apparently just opening for this thing. Too bad Warp or Nova weren’t there to take advantage of it. Alas, all that came through was a busted up ship. How was that going to be useful? Especially with an unknown mech, or more inside. He supposed the Decepticons could commandeer it and Shockwave could surely make the necessary repairs. Oh but the Auto-glitches would certainly come prancing in here to ruin that plan.

Starscream scoffed as he turned away from the window to pace again. “Good luck with that,” He voiced bitterly. It wasn’t his problem unfortunately, seeing as he still couldn’t get out of his current mess. He whacked Aftermath over the helm playfully, “Hey what do you want to bet that the Autobots will blow that thing up rather than let the Decepticons leave the planet?” He bends down to nudge Spitfire, “Oh you want to wager that they’ll try and reason with the cons to let them take the ship! Never going to happen. You’re insane, little Sprite. And I’ll bet 5 energon cubes–or… we don’t have that but still– that they’ll start shooting at each other immediately.” With such glorious stakes, she had no choice but to be absolutely riveted by his proposal.

Starscream sauntered away from the two in the anticipated victory to lean against the optic window with one leg lifted slightly. His wings naturally maneuvered out of the way, and he adjusted his optics to focus in as much as he could at what could be happening at the downed ship.

Eventually, the smoke subsided and the Decepticons were the first to arrive, apparently under the direction of Shockwave. It of course made the most sense, yet his spark ached to be down there in his stead. Surprisingly, the cons decided to shoot at the ship quite quickly, even before it had begun fighting back. Why would they want to damage it further? The idiots. They should have at least focused fire on the door. It wasn’t his mission to handle though, and Shockwave obviously wasn’t used to giving clear direction.

Soon enough, the bots did arrive. Accompanied by Megatron. How fun. Starscream’s favorite part was when the ship of course began to target the fool due to his insignia. Or when he and his precious Prime squabbled about him staying behind, and then him defying it. Seeing Megatron behave as a rebellious little miscreant was quite amusing, he will admit. Yet his spark burned with the thought that Megatron wouldn’t get an axe to the helm for such a crime. Megatron would never understand, and will never be made to will he? Of course he was allowed to question Prime. Of course he just got to waltz around with them. Halfheartedly fighting off his former fellow Decepticons like he cared. Pathetic.

Use your gun. Starscream thought bitterly at Megatron as he behaved so disgustingly tenderly with the cons. He should just shoot them, like Prime. Why did he just grab at Ravage? He didn’t even toss her aside!

Starscream’s lax posture had broadened as he now fully faced down the scene and growled, “What was that Megatron?!” The chaos energy flickered from the window and across his frame, illuminating his optics in crimson light. His wings vibrated in his growing anger. “Oh what– you know how to not shoot or punch your way through an interaction now!? Since when?! She’s your opponent! Shoot her! Hit her against a rock! Do something!” He watched on silently for another moment as the slagger of course heard none of his ramblings. Then he chuckled darkly before slamming a shaking fist against the window. “Oh yes, I get it now. I’m just special. Tch. Right. I could try to take it as a compliment, I really could. But you know what? No. It’s stupid. So. Unbelievably. Stupid.” He in-vented sharply as he tried to settle down the fire in his spark from the energy gripping it. He held his helm and growled. Starscream had a right to be angry, but it didn’t help. He couldn’t shoot Megatron himself from here. He couldn’t even tell him off. Starscream was, quite literally, talking to a wall. He hated it. He wanted to destroy it. Destroy him.

He wanted to incinerate all of them.

More of the chaotic crimson lightning converged on him like his violent thoughts were a light it flocked to. It dug into his spark like it was nestling into a little crevice made just for it to make its home. His vents began to quicken as his whole frame rattled erratically as it tried to distort his vision.

He hated it. He didn’t actually want to destroy everything and everyone, that would be moronic! He liked at least two of the people that could be down there right? And destroying it all wouldn’t leave much to govern over. Why did the stupid corrupted Emberstone power have to behave like this?

As Starscream fought against the urge to blast everything in sight, he vaguely felt himself ram against the wall and slide down to the floor. He could hardly think with the screaming in his processor, and audials now that he mentions it. It was probably him. He was the only vocal one there. But he couldn’t let this Primus forsaken power control him, he controlled it, slag it all.

Yet eventually, his optics flickered online and he flapped out his wings in tune. When he looked around, there were blast marks everywhere, mainly at the window as smoke still hovered around it. Frag. Even poor Spitfire and Aftermath were now somehow thrown against the wall instead of their proper positions. He found himself staring blankly at the little dents in their frames as they laid crumpled on the floor. He just stood there with wide optics. He had done it, all of it, but he didn’t remember. Was that what had happened before? Could the power also rob his memory?

Starscream’s servo mindlessly reached to cover his mouth as he finally looked away toward nothing else in particular. That was until he remembered the ship. He should probably continue monitoring that… right.

As he approached the window, Spitfire’s twin flew across with something trailing behind her. They were near him! What were they doing? He pressed his servos against the glass and watched intently. Perhaps their plan was to use the chaos energy around the Titan to boost the downed ship to get it out? Yes, that was it. They were to use that string as a sort of cable for their engine. Apparently the cons and bots were all fighting again. Good. But who was going to get the ship if that Terran was the one who obtained its power? Now this could be interesting. He wasn’t sure either him or Spitfire were going to win that bet now.

It seemed like it was quite the effort, but the Terran Twitch and whoever else did manage to charge the ship. He was a bit disappointed that she hadn’t at least stopped by the Titan’s optics for even one moment to try and talk to him before leaving. Too focused on the mission he supposed, he could respect that. Then as it turned out, the Decepticons got a hold of the ship! Although the Prime and Megatron ran a bit of interference… and Megatron jumped ship for the Prime… what in the Pit.

Starscream's optics narrowed at this but snapped open at the realization that he was going to be left behind. “WAIT!” He slammed a fist against the glass in an effort to elicit sound to the outside. “WAIT WHERE ARE YOU GOING? Swing by this way–come ON you useless slagging idiots! Don’t– they can’t leave the barrier right?? Or is that ship just privileged?” It in fact, was. “No no no no– Wait!! Don’t leave me here you ungrateful rust buckets!!” They didn’t listen. The chaos powered, last hope of getting off earth rapidly disappeared into the atmosphere without care of his plight. “GET BACK DOWN HERE!” He banged uselessly over and over again as he screamed at the sky.

The crimson lightning came flickering through his wings and guiding his peds yet again. He was too distracted. Starscream was beyond frantic. He shot at the walls again. He tried to pull the plating off of any surface he could reach. He kicked, punched, screamed, flew and rammed against the window.

He should have been able to get out. He should have been able to go with them. He should have been able to beat the slag out of Megatron, and command the Decepticons to victory. He hates this planet. He wished the war never landed on earth. They shouldn’t have been here. Starscream shouldn’t be here. The Terrans could claim it all they wanted. He just wanted OUT. Out of this room, off this planet, away from this invasive power of Quintus’ creation. Why had he thought this was a good idea? Trying to use it like it wouldn’t blow up in his face like everything always did. Why did magic always have to be so weird?!

This time when his processor was returned to him, the Earth’s star had been hidden from view and the only light that remained came from the ruined city and the dim green spark that still evaded complete annihilation. This time, Sprite and A.M were spared further damage, but his own frame was not so lucky. Although they were superficial at best. Some crushed plating from… maybe ramming the door somehow? A bent wing, an aching helm, scuffs all over his peds and servos. All things he could manage and no spilled energon.

Starscream’s wings twitched as a bit of lingering lightning flitted through them, and his hands did a little of their own little spazzes. Ugh. He was tired. So he sat unmoving, much like the Terrans who laid across from him, for quite some time. Apparently enough for the sun to return. He sighed and pulled himself up to approach the other two mechs.

“Alright kids, looks like it’s officially just us now. Won’t that be fun?” Starscream managed a fake little smile. He nudged Spitfire to the side first before hoisting Aftermath’s arm over his shoulder and led the big lug back to his seat. Then retrieved Spitfire, simply laying her down gently on the table.

He glanced around the room before blankly staring out the window again. He began to laugh, just a twinge manically. “They surely are missing the uniquely rowdy parties we’re having in here now, aren’t they? Of course, this is the ultimate place to be right, kids? We have the best seats in the city! And besides, who needs those other guys when we have each other and all that disgusting autobot slag. Ew, I can’t believe I even just said that.” He slumped a bit before dancing around his little crew. “Yet alas, you may be mad at me, but we’re stuck so you have no choice but to adore me. A glorious fate, really, I assure you! Oh what was that? You never even want to leave now? Oh shut up idiot, you suckup.” He backhanded Aftermath on the shoulder plating. “Sprite here knows we’re doomed and it’s all my fault.”

Starscream froze a moment at the fact his glossia had uttered his fictional dialogue to proclaim such a thing. He then chuckled emptily in a way that begged to devolve further. “Woah what was that? I didn’t hear anything. It must have been the wind. Of which, definitely can get in here.”

No one’s coming, they’ll never get out.

The best time to have a fake little party to boost morale!

His vast imagination had never steered him wrong before, although perhaps Quintus had other ideas, as for a moment he swore he heard Spitfire give a little, “Sure, keep talking ya nutjob.” Even as her eyes remained dead, and her glossia never moved.

Right. The wind.

Chapter Text

Starscream might just have been starting to lose his processor a bit. Maybe. No he wasn’t. He was fine! He could live forever in this corpse and had plenty of time to get out eventually!

Sure, A.M and Sprite still weren’t talking, they definitely weren’t, and that was a drag; but such minor details! Yes the walls seem to be made of some absurdly sturdy rock that laughed at any dent he made. That could be managed with time! He just needed to be patient. Especially with all other Decepticons jumping planet, the Autobots had to come for him soon! The Terrans can operate the door. It’d be easy for them. Then they’d be out. It’ll all come together any time now!

A chaos surge pulsed through the Titan and interrupted Starscream’s scheduled pacing session. His peds were stopped in their tracks as the electricity forced his frame to convulse in place. As the surge dissipated, he stumbled and his wings vibrated with the lingering sparks. Although the energy boost that resulted was invigorating, it made something swim in his processor that gave an addled warning. He ignored it as usual. He couldn’t be bothered with the feeble gripes his frame would give him. It should be grateful it still functioned and leave it at that.

Starscream vented indignantly as he straightened himself and addressed the room, “It is rude to be interruptive, you know.”

“They should call you whiner instead of screamer.”

Starscream flinched at Spitfire’s voice, which sounded not entirely like herself. Because, of course, she wasn’t talking. He knew that. He did! Yet he responded with a flick of his wings and a retort, “I should call you Spitty instead of Sprite.” He laced his tone with an exuberant amount of snark, and pointed a digit at her accusingly.

He foolishly found himself waiting a moment for her to give in further to the banter, which she did not. She just sat there with her arms folded disapprovingly as he had propped her to be. This knocked at his spark in a way that made his tank twist.

“Oh the silent treatment again, how mature.” Starscream tipped his helm with a roll of his optics, and drifted in the direction of the two chaos Terrans. “If you are ready to finally online your optics and your vocalizer– instead of just chaos energy transmitted thoughts– then why don’t you just get up already?” He prodded Spitfire’s helm rather forcefully in tandem with the last couple words, which caused her to fall over in defeat, and he scoffed. “Your charade is getting increasingly old, Spitty. You cannot continue to convince me that you are incapable of functioning, as you ping my communicator with nonsense.” Starscream shook the little drone’s frame, then picked her up to squint at her faceplate. She could be conscious while in stasis, he supposed. The voice he heard had to have come from somewhere, and perhaps with the surges of energy through the Titan, she was able to send a signal to him. Although she used those moments for extremely petty means. Yet then why couldn’t he induce a connection directly by infusing her chassis with the power? Not that he had tried that…

Starscream pulled his optics away from Sprite’s and made certain to control his frustration as he placed her down against Aftermath again. She was the brains of the two kids, so of course she would tap into some special ability or whatever this was while A.M. hadn’t. That could make sense. The theory about the chaos energy linking them is perfectly viable. Even if tests performed to prove it hadn’t exactly yielded consistent results, it was still the only explanation he would accept. He wasn’t crazy.

“Fine…” Starscream ex-vented in defeat at her continued unresponsiveness and circled the table. “Well, even if you insist on carrying on with this game, I intend on orchestrating something with more reliable results. I am sure we all have been having great fun with our little plays I've directed thus far! So, how about another? It is not like you two have much of a choice if you don’t want to move–” He tried in vain to perhaps bait them out of their catatonic state– “Oh well!” Alas, yet again, no movement. They were clearly absolutely ecstatic to take part in his newest adventure! Well, more like a continued fantasy.

Starscream proceeded to collect his assortment of makeshift props he had constructed over the past… however many cycles it’d been. He’d created artifacts, datapads, his crown, cups, energon cubes, some figurines of a select few characters; an assortment of things to add to a scene. His favorite was his crown, of course, although it wasn’t nearly as illustrious as he would prefer it. There is only so much a mech could do with rock, scraps of metal, and meager organic material.

Starscream’s favorite story to tell was pre-war, what led to its start, and how perfectly everything could have gone differently. He loved to play out and regale the terrans of his days in the High Guard, the scientific community, his trine. A bit more intriguingly, about Megatron before he showed himself as the slagger he is, or the history around the counsel of Primes. Recounting such topics would occasionally lead to unwelcomed reactions from his processor, but they were still entertaining. More particularly when he bent history to his whim, actually. Reality could often be overrated, after all.

For instance, a fabulous divergence into a realm where Starscream himself had rallied the Decepticon cause, and Megatron never existed. He began his tale with a grandiose speech about the struggles presented by the caste system and how Cybertron’s current leadership was corrupt and outdated. Sprite was given Thundercracker’s roll and Aftermath Skywarp’s. He would occasionally have them back him up as perfect little supporting characters, aside from a couple moments of Thundercracker questioning his approach, but that was typical. Skywarp was wholly on board with purging the Primes from their positions and instating themselves in their place. Of course, Starscream would be Cybertron’s Emperor, but Skywarp and Thundercracker were given plenty of power of their own by his side! So they had no further complaints in his world. Everyone loved him and listened to everything he had to say with the utmost interest and consideration!

The Titan shook rudely in the middle of a rather important scene, which caused Starscream to yelp and bark at it to stop, calling out to whatever was causing it. He stomped over to the optic window, and scanned what surroundings he could, eventually casting his gaze to the sky. Oh. The Quintessons were here.

“THE QUINTESSONS ARE HERE?!” Starscream exclaimed vocally in a far less calm manner as he jumped back from the glass. Fear tugged at his spark as he tried to comprehend why those galactic menaces had stationed ships over his head. “I… I do suppose Quintus’ most significant relic was unearthed on this planet and subsequently exploded at this location…” He began to pace. The Quintessons were rather obsessed with Quintus as well, so of course they would have kept their sensors alert to any signs of their Prime’s power. “Ah… that is not going to be good.” Starscream decided as his peds locked in place.

He glanced out at the growing chaos outside. Could he use it to his advantage? Did they know he was here? He hoped they wouldn’t decide to just nuke the Titan with him inside. What were they doing? Were they going to destroy the other Terrans? Were they going to try and collect the shattered sparks of the Emberstone? What would the Autobots do? They wouldn’t care unless it were a danger to their interests. Are they down there? Would they enter the Titan to elicit his assistance? What could all of this entail?!

The crimson lightning littering the Titan shuttered up his frame and his wings shook. His optics flickering from red to blue rapidly.

He couldn’t do anything.

He was stuck. Powerless. Left at the whim of his enemies.

Starscream abruptly in-vented and whipped around back to face Spitfire and Aftermath at their table. “Never mind that!” He laughed and ushered their cups back into their servos, since they kept dropping them. “With me as your Emperor, I can assure you that everything is absolutely fine and under control!! Nothing at all to worry about! Now–” He retrieved the energon extractor spear as his own prop as a show of his power– “Back to what’s actually important: delegating duties and all of you reminding me how awesome I am!”

“You are a pathetic excuse of a leader.” Spitfire’s echoed communication told him.

Starscream’s optic twitched and they flashed red as he quickly bit back in a disdainfully sing-song voice, “Wrong line Thundercracker!! What you meant to say was: Oh Starscream, you are so wise and perfect and always know what to do! How could we ever manage without you!”

“Tch. You’re delusional.”

Starscream’s wings vibrated with the chaotic energy and his vents quickened, his grip tightening on the spear, then yelled “I AM NO SUCH THING AND YOU WILL CEASE THIS INSUBORDINATION!” Suddenly, he was right in Spitfire’s face and aiming the weapon at her threateningly. He blinked rapidly as his vision shifted from blue to red. He stared at her dead face. At his shaking servo ready to carve out her spark. Over two sentences. He had told Megatron the exact same things many times. What was he doing?

Starscream’s optics realigned and he pulled away from the table. He cleared his throat, “Moving on…” and pulled up a grin to his faceplate to reassume his role. They both had their own little outbursts. It didn’t matter.

Not long later, they were interrupted from their imaginary energon tea when the door opened. The door– it was open! Starscream had jumped with a yelp so intense that his crown clattered to the ground, but he didn’t care about that anymore. He had visitors!! He could be getting out of this Primus forsaken place! He didn’t care who it was. Prime? The bug– Hashtag! Oh maybe he could negotiate with them!

“Welcome, welcome! Lovely to see you all!” Starscream greeted emphatically with a slight bow to the newcomers. The bug’s first response was to point a gun at him, and dismiss his presence for some apparently more important conversation with the bot Prowl. He would be offended if his nerves weren’t through the roof, like where he’d like to be right now. He quickly put his servos up placatingly and couldn’t help the scared noises that escaped his vocalizer.

Starscream couldn’t care less what the bug was rambling about, but it sure sounded like some inspiring Autobot slag. He inched closer to Hashtag’s side with the spear held up to his chassis in an attempt to look non-threatening. “Perhaps I should wait outside…” He tried desperately. Given their disinterest, why should they care if he saw himself out? The door was right there… left completely open. Taunting him. But the little orange dinobot bit his leg and drug him swiftly away, “D-augh!” This caused him to lose his grip on the spear which landed in Hashtag's servos. That’d be fine! He could absolutely convince her of the value an alliance with him could be!

As the bug came to the end of his speech, Starscream tried rapidly clapping with a show of enthusiasm for whatever he’d just spouted out. He’d hoped it would show some sort of goodwill and support, but it just got the bot’s aggressive energy directed towards him with a blaster again. He vented anxiously as he tried to show he meant no harm. Evidently, the mechs continued on with their conversation again, leaving him to swat at the slagging dinobot sparkling that insisted on nipping at his peds.

Starscream’s attention was caught however when he heard reference to him within their string of words. Prime wanted to send him to a brig? Wait wait– no! That wasn’t how this was supposed to go!

He whimpered as Prowl approached and tried to back away. “B-but you need me! The quintessons are notoriously vicious- for the small price of freedom I’m willing to freelance for the autobots an– AAAHAHOW!” A sharp jab stabbed through his back and shot violent electricity through his frame. This time the energy wasn’t intent on aiding his energon reserves but instead weaponizing it. Ah right. The spear.

The world went dark as he fell heavily to the ground.

When his optics finally onlined again, he was alone. His processor and spark ached. Pit, everything did. Where was he? The Titan? It was quiet…

Starscream groaned with a servo to his helm as he pulled himself off the floor. Then when he looked up to survey the room, he froze.

He was back in G.H.O.S.T.’s Pit. Scrap.

Chapter Text

Starscream had thought slowly rusting in the Titan was bad, but this was worse. He kept hearing pedsteps through the halls. Voices of Decepticons that had long since been liberated. Saw flashes in the edges of his optics of Soundwave, Skullcruncher, Swindle– He knew they weren’t there, he knew it. But yowling growls in his audials from the croctobot, or a hum in the walls that was typically a warning of an incoming electric shock; they were too much. The Decepticons were gone. G.H.O.S.T was gone. The Auto-glitches had just repurposed their resources for their own use. It was logical. As Shockwave would say.

Starscream’s vents were irregular as he paced, servo’s pressed against either side of his helm. His optics were locked open, although they weren’t exactly functioning. He couldn’t focus. Surely, he should be able to think of something to escape this Pit if the Autobots wouldn’t listen to him. He’d done it before, right? He’d had the assistance of technical difficulties or a select few cons- but he didn’t need them! He just needed his processor to stop assaulting his sensors with useless noise.

Even so, this place should be a better position than trapped in the Titan, he supposed. He knew its structure far better, and there were still bots somewhere around here. Not phantom bots. Actual bots. Starscream faintly wondered where they had placed Spitfire and Aftermath. Had they been incarcerated here as well? What had happened with the Quintessons?

Had they all died in battle? Was he all alone in here?

Starscream hadn’t actually seen any of the bots again after waking in this cell, he realized. That was not a good thought. Those Autobots were far too painfully resilient to not find some impossible way to obtain victory. Of course they were still alive, they had to be. If they weren’t, he’d find it rather insulting. Even if they’d refused his help.

How long had it been? Primus he couldn’t even track the position of the sun from in here! This was ridiculous.

The quiet had overtaken the air again, and he wasn’t quite sure if it was better or worse. Starscream slumped against the back wall, staring at the energy field that contained him. If only he could psychically will the blasted thing to erupt in flames. Wouldn’t that have been a nice outlier ability. Alas, it remained as it was.

More time passed in a storm of static. Until Starscream was suddenly snapped to attention by a familiar voice. Megatron.

“Starscream.” The ex-warlord stated his designation so plainly, and it made him shoot to his peds almost immediately.

He had to play off the reaction in a way that clearly stated he was not startled, so he seamlessly shifted his posture to lean against the wall casually. “Megatron. How nice to see you.” Starscream controlled his vocalizer to pace his words smoothly, and with a twinge of theatrical false cheer. “I’m flattered! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Megatron’s optics narrowed ever so slightly. “A question. What exactly do you hope to accomplish?” After Starscream just stared at him blankly for an uncomfortable amount of time, Megatron crossed his arms and elaborated. “I know of your schemes. That you always thought yourself better suited to lead the Decepticons. Yet I fail to understand how you can continue to be so dense as to reinstate the conflict after our rally against G.H.O.S.T. The war is over!” His volume rose to which Starscream’s own optics narrowed. “You are… frustratingly unpredictable. So. I ask you. What is it you aimed to gain from any of this?”

Starscream put a servo to his hip and a sinister grin came to his faceplate. “Oh Megatron… You are as short sighted as ever. Honestly, did you really think that any of the Decepticons would accept the way things ended? It wasn’t just me! Sure, the idea to forge New Cybertron was all my grand design and I will not share credit for that– but they all followed me because they craved action. It isn’t over. Even if you keep me here, Shockwave has clearly taken charge of his own direction. All you are is a traitor that we can easily move on from. Your defaction isn’t so revolutionary. Get over yourself.”

Megatron in-vented and raised his arms to gesture his exasperation, “That did not answer my question, Starscream.”

Starscream chuckled and gave him a mock bow, “Apologies if that wasn’t what you wanted to hear, my Lord.” He put as much scorn as he could into the title and revelled in the way Megatron squirmed.

The ex-warlord balled his servos into fists, “Stop. Answer my question.” He demanded with the signature growl Starscream was used to, and his optics brightened.

“Aw, is the Prime’s passive little pet getting angry?” He taunted brazenly. If Starscream could push Megatron’s buttons enough, he’d surely open the cell to try and continue their conversation by way of his fists. The fool had always been easily baited.

Megatron was clearly agitated, but unfortunately, made no move towards the cell’s controls. “Why do you still insist on antagonizing me? You know all about being a traitor, Starscream. New Cybertron my aft, you just wanted the power for yourself! All you did once you accomplished your goal was become an agent of destruction and swat your comrades aside to be scrapped! I acknowledge the mistakes of my past… but you cannot seem to make up your processor where your own priorities lie! I have proven myself dedicated to a reforged focus towards peace. You persist in being a weasley pest for little reason but for your own immediate gain!”

Starscream flinched back slightly as Megatron jabbed a digit pointedly in his direction. The absolute gall. Crimson lightly flickered between his wings as a power in his spark flared.

Megatron’s disgusting voice box continued to prattle on with his accusations. “When we were faced with the Dweller in that cave. When you sprang into action to the Terran child’s aid. That day, I had a sliver of hope, that you may actually be capable of changing your ways. I had never seen that side of you– but I suppose even then it meant nothing. What changed?! How could you betray her perception of you so flippantly, and offline sparklings no less?!”

“I DID NO SUCH THING!” Starscream shrieked abruptly with a step forward and his optics glitching red, which caused the other mech to straighten in surprise. “Hashtag, Spitfire, and Aftermath are PERFECTLY functional!! The latter two may still be in stasis– but there is no reason that they could not be rejuvenated if I had access to adequate fuel! Hashtag was clearly still capable as she got her own little payback with the energon extractor! My effort towards New Cybertron held no ill intent towards her, and she’s fine. Then, it is not as if the chaos kids are incapable of functioning without those Embershards. You do not see the other Terrans with them, do you!? No. You don’t. Those two just wanted a bit of revenge for their surprise sacrifice–of which was a necessity that I knew they wouldn’t relent to willingly. That is why they were determined to remain unresponsive! I didn’t betray anyone!” A small, manic laugh escaped him and he added without thinking, “I don’t even remember what happened after I put on that Primus damned corrupted gauntlet!” Apparently, even without the surges from the Titan, the chaos energy spikes had stayed with him. He was probably shaking too much to be taken seriously.

Megatron looked at him with a strange expression on his faceplate. Starscream wanted to blast it off, yet of course, no plasma cannon. Plus the cursed wall between them still. Seriously, why wasn’t the idiot breaking it down to beat him into the Pit by now!?

“You don’t…” Megatron vented in confusion, mulling over what had just been said. “You can’t possibly expect me to believe that.”

Starscream scoffed, “Oh spare me your doubt. You know nothing. You want to accuse me of betraying the Decepticons? They abandoned ME! And you LET them! I cannot say I am surprised, but for you to say it’s MY fault?? That is just how they are! That is why I cannot count on anyone but myself! And so what if I went a bit overboard with the gauntlet’s power? Earth deserves to BURN! What reason has this place given me to harbor any opinion otherwise? Cybertron is our home, not this organic mess! And YOU got the Allspark incinerated by the Prime’s moronic decision to blow the space bridge! You want to make a new life here for Cybertronians? Forgive me if I am a bit skeptical of how to accomplish that with humans running around.”

Megatron continued to scrutinize him with regard to his statements in a way that was no longer amusing. He had no right to look at Starscream that way. Like he was insane. He wasn’t insane! This fool wanted the truth and he couldn’t even take it!

“We do not know for sure if the Allspark was destroyed…” The big lug didn’t even sound like he believed it himself. He just wanted to live in the denial of his pathetic field of flowers with that equally stupid mech he pined after for vorns.

“You only attempt to believe otherwise to savor your vision of your precious Prime.” Starscream spit. This statement brought a more pleasing air of irritation to Megatron’s faceplate that made Starscream grin again.

“Additionally,” Megatron tried to deflect, “Humans, as a general species, are not our enemy. We are perfectly capable of coexisting. Dorothy convinced me of this. Humans are just as varied as us Cybertronians. Violence… has proved itself to not be a viable means towards real progress.”

Starscream could roll his optics at the initial drabble, but hearing Megatron try to admonish violence as a whole– Megatron? He knew he’d gotten soft, but this was absurd. Especially when that hypocrite’s first greeting card was still a signature blast of plasma to the chassis.

He stared at the silver mech, Starscream’s optics flickering back to blue as the crimson lightning retreated into the deep seeded hole in his spark. Starscream slowly started to laugh which devolved rather quickly as he nearly doubled over, steadying himself on the wall and covering his optics with a servo. “Y-you– HAH! Oh my Primus that’s RICH! You, Megatron, the infamous warlord. You want to preach to me about violence being wrong?! Do you hear yourself?!” Starscream struggled to articulate anything more coherent than that in his hysteria.

He thought of Thundercracker, who had held shiny ideals in his spark all those vorns ago. Before Megatron had sent them into a battlefield they should never have entered. Starscream had tried to explain to their incompetent, illustrious leader exactly why, and was subsequently tossed aside as usual. Forced to lead his trine to their demise. He had slipped away from the carnage, only to realize that his trine mates were nowhere in sight. Megatron had told him to retreat and leave them. Starscream didn’t listen, yet still had only found a barely conscious Skywarp in the rubble. Thundercracker died fighting a battle he had never wanted to fight. He had constantly asked Starscream to advocate for less brutal or reckless tactics favored by the warlord, but those pleas had never been heard. Any time Starscream had offered an alternative to ramming their helms into a wall of Autobots, he would be assaulted into submission for daring to question their lord.

Starscream can understand caution in battle, but the absence of violence in conflict is a foolish aspiration. He had explained that to Thundercracker when they first joined the Decepticons. Now here was Megatron, standing before him after all these vorns, denigrating the framework of a cause he had forged.

The fool seemed at a loss for words as he blankly watched and waited for Starscream’s laughter to die out. Starscream’s vocalizer whirled at the strain as he finally pulled himself together, “Be-believe me, I would love to list exactly every single reason to explain just how hypocritical you have become Megatron; but I know from experience that words are useless on your thick helm.”

Megatron ex-vented and ran a servo down his face, “Starscream… would you please work with me here?”

Starscream’s optics widened and his wings flicked back. It was his turn to be left absolutely flabbergasted. This mech truly was full of surprises as of late. Why was he talking like that? What was he trying to pull now?

Starscream straightened himself and now eyed Megatron more warily, “Work with you?” He paused for a bit of drama and to analyze the ex-warlord’s frame-language, then assumed a sweeter tone as he put his servos behind his back. “I will only agree to be cooperative if I am to get something out of this exchange, my dear Megatron. As is in my oh so self-serving nature, after all.” He placed a servo over his chassis for effect. “If you wish for me to disclose anything of interest to you, you’ll have to bargain for it.” The seeker slid up to the cell’s barrier and leaned forward with a conniving smirk.

Megatron’s faceplate looked positively disgusted. Good.

“You are in no position to make deals, Starscream.” He proclaimed like a fool.

“On the contrary, I am in the exact position to do so! What have I to lose if you refuse? Disclosing anything you desire without anything in return would still leave me with nothing in the end. So give me some incentive, hm? Or do you plan to remove this silly barrier and beat it out of me like the good ol’ days? Wouldn’t that just be easier? Oh, but that’d challenge your cute, flimsy little ploy of pacifism, now wouldn’t it?”

Megatron threw his servo out from his side like he could smack the idea away. “That is not what I’m here for!” He insisted as his volume rose again, “All I wanted, was to try and have a civil conversation with you! But I should’ve known that’d be impossible.”

Starscream’s grin dropped, and he rolled his optics with the swing of his hips which he landed his servos upon, “Ah yes, I am sure that is all you came for.”

Megatron’s servos clenched into fists as they often did when frustrated, but the slagging idiot still wouldn’t relent to his typical violent impulses. “Fine. What could you want in exchange for giving me a legitimate answer to my question?”

“Hm, I assume my freedom would be off the table?” Starscream tried, which Megatron answered with a glare. “Pity. With my vast array of skills, I would be a far more valuable asset to you all on the outside–”

“No. Get on with it.”

Star grumbled his complaints, then paused in thought. “Well, perhaps you could permit me a meeting with Hashtag. Speaking with her would certainly be far more pleasant than being forcibly subjected to your disgusting faceplate.”

Megatron’s expression shifted to that confusing state from before, then reverted back to one of stern suspicion. “Very well, but she will not be alone. She will have an Autobot chaperon close by.”

Starscream’s wings flicked in a mock shrug, “If you insist. It is not as if I intend to manipulate her to my whim in an effort to convince her to release me from this Pit. That would be absurd. Shame on your paranoid processor for thinking it.” He tisked.

Megatron actually rolled his own optics, which Starscream found extremely amusing. “Right. On that note, tell me, what are your intentions? You still seem to be fond of the sparkling, despite your recent actions. Help me understand, Starscream.”

Perhaps the Prime had put him up to this.

“A little back and forth of being at odds isn’t unheard of, especially amongst Decepticons. Why do you act like it is so strange?”

“It’s a matter of loyalty, Starscream. The infighting amidst the Decepticons was by no means an advantage, in fact, it was a constant hindrance!”

Starscream scoffed, but couldn’t think of a good retort to the statement. It was objectively true, and he would not tell Megatron he was right. He waved a servo dismissively, “Regardless, what else was it you wanted to ask me?”

“What is your endgame?”

“Ah well, ideally I would lead the Decepticons to victory and rule over a newly forged Cybertron.” He stated plainly. “Although, determining a means at which to breathe life back into the ball of scrap it’s become, is the most tricky. But if everyone had just listened to me,” He put a servo to his chassis, “then we could stop with the silly killing each other dribble and finally reformat our government as intended, on a very much alive Cybertron. On the other servo, you just decided for yourself that you were tired of playing war with the Prime. I might have agreed with you about starting some form of delegation. But no. How could any of us have any right to be consulted by the mighty Megatron. You just up and decided to go behind our backs. And now you love to prattle about being a team. Tch.”

Megatron hummed disapprovingly of the seeker’s snark. “How did your scheme to use the Emberstone to control the Titan and destroy Witwicky possibly work toward those goals? That was a rather needlessly violent approach, and aimed towards Earth’s inhabitants, not Cybertron.”

“Well I couldn’t exactly reach Cybertron, now could I? Because someone destroyed the only space bridge. And the technology here is far too primitive to rebuild a new one. The situation changed my approach. Evidently, it was a flop, but I blame Quintus and his faulty artifact for that.” The lingering energy in his spark sent a sort of warning shock that made his optic and wing twitch. He flatly ignored it. “Now if you want any more oddly interpersonal queries answered, we can discern another trade."

Megatron stared a moment before turning away, “No, that will be all for now, Starscream.”

Suddenly, Starscream actually felt as if he didn’t want him to leave. Had he bored the mech somehow? Scrap! He hadn’t even succeeded in riling him up enough to open the door! But he couldn’t think of anything else to say that wouldn’t be overtly obvious that he was intentionally aiming for a confrontational response. Then here he was, being dismissed as if he were still a soldier under the oaf’s command. No matter. At least he had scored a meeting with Hashtag. That could be something to look forward to, he supposed.

“Uh- right then… don’t forget our deal!” It was too sudden for Starscream’s liking.

Megatron didn’t even respond to him as he rounded the corner. Conversation. Yes, that mech was as skilled in that department as ever. Whether he was too wrapped up in whatever thoughts were sloshing around in his helm, or if he pointedly ignored Starscream for some reason or another; it was always hard to tell.

Now, Starscream was left to his own devices yet again. Alone. No need to be dramatic, he didn’t actually enjoy Megatron’s company. Solitary was surely preferable.

He just hoped they wouldn’t forget him in there for too long this time…

That’s all it was.

Chapter Text

Starscream had rounded the perimeter of the cell approximately 175 times now. It was a respectable number to end on, so he decided to take a seat against the wall. Megatron was certainly taking his time in fulfilling his side of their deal. Perhaps he had decided to simply forgo upholding his word. That would be disappointing. Although admittedly unsurprising.

Starscream's wings perked at the sound of pedsteps through the corridor, but drooped when he recognized that it was his audials playing tricks on him again.

“Ey what’s the plan commander? I’m dyin’ in ‘ere!” Swindle complained, and the noise made Starscream’s optic twitch red.

“I’m working on it!” He growled.

“Starscream: Moping.” Soundwave commented just so helpfully as the stoic mech also sat on his aft in the cell across from him.

“I am not!” Starscream’s vocalizer betrayed him with a high pitched squeal, and he cleared his throat. “I do not need to entertain any of you glitches. Just because my processor insists on projecting you, does not make you worthy of my attention. Leave me be and jet yourselves back into space why don’t you.” Starscream waved a servo as if he could send them away with the gesture.

It only partially worked, as Soundwave’s form found it pertinent to displace itself to a less casual moment in time. When Mandroid had been given free reign to select any one of them as lab rodents to be experimented upon. The blue mech’s servos and peds were tightly bound to leave him splayed out upon the ground for scrambling little human pests to defile his circuits. They hadn’t even severed his sensors for the operation. They’d just popped open panels and prodded around like maggots deconstructing a living corpse.

Starscream’s frame locked up as his spark felt constricted in his chassis. His vents had stopped. He knew it wasn’t real. Perhaps he shouldn’t have angered the illusion. Now he was stuck rewatching the disgusting scene as samples of the mech’s frame were being sawed off barbarically, the internal wiring being strewn about, and those cursed injections of more than questionable substances. The array of equipment echoed dreadfully in his audials.

Suddenly, the world spazzed again, and one of the G.H.O.S.T agents hovered sinisterly in front of his cell. Staring. Scrutinizing him with an air of hunger on its faceless mask. Like a predacon reveling in the power it held over its prey. Savoring not just its victory over its victims, but sadistically devouring the gruesome process itself. The creature simply found joy in their suffering, and lingered in a promise for what Starscream knew had happened next.

Then, there was Skullcruncher. Starscream heard the croctobot shift in the cell beside him, and his helm was inadvertently drawn to face it. The frame he saw wasn’t right. The lighting wasn’t right. It was dim and hazy, but he vaguely identified Skullcruncher as he shambled towards the barrier separating them. The sturdy beast was painfully caught between his bot and alt modes. Plating bent, warped, and twisted in ways it should not have been able to manage. His faceplate distorted with shadow and melting metal so that his optics and dentas stuck out in an unnerving, unnatural manner.

The raspy voice box of the creature spoke to him. It sounded like too many different vocalizers at once for him to discern.

“You deserve what has come to you, Starscream. It’s your fault. You didn’t help us. You only helped yourself. How could you?”

Starscream yelped and scrambled back until he hit the opposing corner. His wings vibrated, crimson lightning flickering between them, and he barely registered them scraping against the wall.

“You did this.”

The words dug into his audials and he slapped his servos over his receptors like it could save him. “No no, shut up.” Starscream hissed as he glared at his knees, then his vocalizer cracked a chuckle. “You’re not real! It’s not real!” He sang manically. “You can’t trick me. No no no no…”

“You’ll never escape, Starscream. You have no allies that would bother to help you.”

“Hehe-” His vents were cycling far too quickly to aid his addled processor as he muttered, “I’m not listening to you. I don’t have to listen to you. Leave me alone.”

“...Who are you talking to?”

Starscream shrieked and flung his helm backwards in surprise at the suddenly crisp, external sound that questioned him. His optics shot in its direction to see exactly the Terran he so desperately wanted to see. He excitedly sprung to his peds and spread out his servos earnestly.

“HASHTAG!” Starscream greeted perhaps a bit too loudly, then swiftly stepped closer before finding a bit of hesitation and slowing his approach. “I-it’s so good to see you–heh- how-h-how have you been?? After… well, uh–”

“After you stole the Emberstone, nearly killed everyone I care about, and forced Terratronus to start destroying Witwicky?” She finished snarkily with crossed arms and an angry look on her faceplate.

“Yes… that. But we can put that whole debacle behind us! We each got a couple good jabs at the other– what’s a few bouts of blaster fire between friends, right?” He waved his servos around animatedly and his vocalizer was a bit too high pitched for his liking, but that was a silly concern.

“You’re crazy.” Hashtag stated decidedly with far too much contempt, and continued with bitterness bleeding through her tone, “I can’t believe I ever believed in you! How could you do that!? I see now that you are just– worse than Megatron ever could have been.”

Starscream’s wings flicked stiffly behind him and his widened optics glitched between their red and blue as he took a step back. He was horrified. At what exactly, he couldn’t decide. She hated him– She didn’t understand– She was wrong. His wings shifted up and down erratically to relieve even a fraction of the pent up energy clawing at his spark. His servos shook and his optics darted across different points of his surroundings, occasionally landing on Hashtag before looking away again.

“I- You-!” Starscream had lifted a digit with the intent of confronting the Terran’s accusation, encouraged by that damned chaotic crimson corrupting his vision. But did he really have the right to berate her? A parasite nagged at his impulses that he should crush her voice box for her impertinence. He should tell her just how foolish of a proclamation she had made. Give her a verbal assault equal to the one he’d given Megatron. How dare she turn on him like this.

Yet with his sparing glances at her faceplate, even with the assured determination she held herself with, he saw glimpses of fear in her stance. This deepened the pit in his tank. Was he scaring her somehow? That wasn’t what he wanted. How could he have those thoughts?! Perhaps she did have a right to be angry with him after all…

Starscream in-vented, then tried his best to smile and smooth his vocalizer. “Come now, Hashtag, let’s not be brash.” He chuckled halfheartedly. “I’m sure you don’t mean that! Believe me, it was never my intention to damage you or your terran siblings. All you really had to do was step aside while I– what I mean to say is– i-it wasn’t about you, I just-” Oh that sounded bad didn’t it?

Hashtag scoffed, “Not about me? Woooow, thanks. That totally makes what you did alright. Except it doesn’t. You know, you’re lucky we’ve kept Spitfire and Aftermath from coming in here to give you a piece of their mind! What about what you did to them, huh!? I don’t care if it wasn’t about me, you still hurt and endangered so many people for some stupid power buff!”

Starscream stared at her blankly for some time as her words loaded in his processor. They’ve kept Sprite and A.M. from coming here… that means the sparklings were moving! Of course they saw it fit to come back online as soon as he was out of the picture. He knew it.

Starscream’s grin widened at the revelation, “I KNEW IT!” He said so suddenly that Hashtag flinched in surprise and looked at him with that same strange expression Megatron had worn, paired with a dash of confusion at his proclamation. He straightened himself to regain what composure he could before tilting a servo to enlighten her. “See, I knew those two never required those Embershards to function! I was right! They were just playing a petty, silly little game to get back at me when we were trapped up there in the Titan. Did they just need whatever fuel you Terrans need? Did you somehow collect a higher dose of the chaos energy that I could not? Or did they simply arise after I departed?” He tilted his hip snarkily and crossed his arms. “If that is the case I will have quite the word with Sprite about her rather rude, meager communications she chose to send me instead of contributing.”

Hashtag’s intake hung open stupidly before her faceplate scrunched in bafflement. “...What?”

Starscream thought he had explained himself quite well. He rolled his optics and impatiently urged her to answer his query, “At what point did they decide to come online?”

“Decide?? You killed them! We were only able to bring them back with a crazy idea to toss them into the chaos cloud junk with the spear! Of course anime has never done me wrong and it totally worked– but they weren’t deciding to be dead! What’s wrong with you!?” Hashtag was throwing her servos around in some ill placed frustration as she spouted nonsense.

“They weren’t dead, they were in stasis from their regretable damages.” Starscream tried to clarify. He wasn’t crazy. He knew exactly what was going on.

“Dude you can’t be this delusional. What weird space rock did you eat up there?”

“I’m not delusional.” Starscream snapped with a flash of red in his optics before he reeled himself in again. “If they were permanently offline, then there would have been no possible way Sprite could have pinged my communicator!”

Hashtag blinked and shook her helm as she partially recognized what he’d said. “Sprite…? You mean Spitfire??” She actually looked fondly amused before she forcefully refocused herself, “No– ugh, c’mon man! That makes absolutely no sense. Maybe she was like, haunting you, or something–that would definitely make for some good cinema– but I’m pretty darn sure they were dead-dead for a while there. They looked very dead to me.”

Starscream threw his servos in the air, “Well maybe she was a good actor all along! I’m not crazy!! And I am most definitely not hearing things!!” His wings shuttered as the chaos energy pulled at his circuits. “Believe what you want if you enjoy being wrong–” Lightning shot through his frame and he shook his helm in a hopeless effort to stave the crimson from his optics– “You…You’re just a confused sparkling that doesn’t understand the nuances of the situation– STOP FRAGGING LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT OR I SWEAR I’LL DESTROY THIS PATHETIC BARRIER!”

That slagger Bumblebee ran up from his post at the sector’s entrance to plant himself between Starscream and Hashtag defensively. “HEY! Cool it Screamer! Don’t make me cut your playdate short!”

The corrupted power of the Emberstone erupted from Starscream’s frame, causing that wretched shaking and haze in his optics. “BUT OUT BUG! This doesn’t concern you!” He growled with a stance rearing for a fight.

“I think it does, actually. Especially with whatever this is.” The bumbling bot whirled a servo in Starscream’s general direction rudely.

“Oh REALLY?” He laughed darkly, “You honestly think you are of any use here?! You could never hope to stand against me, scout. Now step aside. Or do you wish to come in here and prove what little prowess you might possess?”

The bug scoffed, “I’m not going to fight you right now Starscream.”

“Coward.”

Before Bumblebee could respond, Hashtag frantically yelled: “STOP!!” Once she’d gained their attention she in-vented sharply and placed a servo on the bug’s shoulder plating. “Just- c’mon Bee, this was stupid… let’s just go.”

“WHAT? You- you can’t just leave–” Starscream stressed angrily. How dare she try to walk away from their conversation!

“You can’t tell me what to do!” She snapped at him before stomping away down the corridor. The bug stared at Starscream a moment longer before hopping away to catch up with Hashtag.

Blue battled for control of his optics and his vents quickened, then he scrambled as close as he could towards them with an extended servo. “WAIT! Wait– please– w-we can- we can still talk about this- I’m sorry I– I didn’t mean it! Please Hashtag, I’m sorry if I scared you, don’t–don’t leave!”

She only spared him one last glance as she tightly hugged her frame, her faceplate full of hurt that he’d foolishly caused. Then the door closed.

“NO! No…no-” Starscream’s servo slowly lowered partway before balling into a fist, “UGH WHY DID I DO THAT?!” He slammed it against the barrier before slumping down to his knees pathetically with a whine. Then voiced Hashtag’s question in a whisper, “What is wrong with me…?”

Nothing about that had gone as it should have.

Starscream had wanted to have a casual, friendly conversation where they could possibly reconcile. Where maybe he could’ve gotten her to understand, and forgive him. Perhaps even get her to pass a good word to the Autobots! But then he had to go and open his big fat glossia, and say literally all the wrong things.

When had it devolved so horribly?? He hadn’t thought it was going that bad! Sure, It had often periodically become more confrontational than he had hoped, but he should have been prepared for that. He should have rehearsed his approach better. Why hadn’t he prepared? He’d had the time, hadn’t he?

Yet all he’d managed to do was frag things up more than they already were. Now how was he going to get out of here?! Jump one of the glitches if they decide to bring him energon…? That had too many ways to go awry, but it might be his only chance.

Or… Perhaps, he could get this Primus damned power that infected him to actually be useful…

Chapter Text

Hashtag sat under a tree overseeing the cows–where her siblings were playing capture the flag–while she was stuck doom scrolling on her pad. Another cat video. Cute! Another movie analysis. Inspiring! Another documentary coded short about an obscure sea creature. Informative!

Although, it wasn’t making her feel better. Usually, all Hashtag needed was a bit of time in the cloud to get her mind straight. But instead it was seeming that with each increasingly rapid swipe, her anxiety just nagged at her more!

“Ugh! Get it together Hashtag…” She quietly berated herself as she minimized her screen on her visor and pulled herself off the grass. She looked out at the Twitch & Robbie versus Thrash & Mo show down. Maybe she could join in! She always did like recording and hyping up their games.

She needed something to distract her from…well, everything. And right now, it was time to be the best announcer in Witwicky! Hashtag took a regulating breath before bouncing in place to gear up her engines. Then quickly retrieved a camera, and made her way to the field.

“AAAANNNNND there goes the crimson crusher Twitch with the steal! Flying just above Thrash as he switches to his alt mode! But what’s this?! Twitch may not rule the skies for long folks–as Thrash seems to have launched off the hay to THROW MO AT THEIR FOE!! How will Robbie counter this daring development!? OOHHHH, a narrow dodge by the Red team! But Blue isn’t done yet as Mo desperately clings to the cloth, intent on dragging them down to her partner!” Hashtag pauses to allow the drama of their scuffle to fill the air. Robbie was trying to tell Mo to let go while she told him to instead. All while Twitch kept having to dodge around Thrash as he body-blocked her while she was bogged down. Eventually, he pulled Mo back to the ground and they scrambled away with their flag, then quickly separated to try and branch out to grab their opponent’s. “You’ll never guess what’s happening now! The Blue team STOLE back their flag that had just nearly spelled their demise, turning this game around at the VERY LAST SECOND! Now they’ve got the Red team on the ropes, BUT CAN THEY PULL THIS OFF? Twitch is gaining leverage on Thrash, but it seems Mo has gotten her hands on the enemy flag and the game is really kicking into third gear!! Robbie tries to intercept and calls for the aid of his partner, only for Thrash to CANCEL their reunion! Truly taking one for the team! IS THE BLUE TEAM GOING TO PULL THIS OFF?! Robbie has the flag! No Mo! No Robbie! Twitch escaped and is now on the move! But will it be enough?? Just as Robbie tries to pass it off to safety from Mo’s clutches, Thrash throws his wheel in the ULTIMATE PLOT TWIST!! Mo catches the insane shot and attempts to ride it to victory with the flag in tow! The Blue team is so close to making a comeback, but Red is right on their tail! All Mo needs is just a couple, more, incheeesssss…AND THEY MAKE IT!”

Mo jumps up with a victory yell that Thrash enthusiastically joins, shadowed by Twitch and Robbie’s groans of defeat. The Blue team was busy rubbing it into their more often victorious siblings' faces as Hashtag made her way closer.

“And to the victor–cue dance montage!” She pointed at them expectantly to which they eagerly obliged her, the Red team shaking their heads with growing grins on their faces.

“Yeah, yeah. You won’t be so lucky next time!” Robbie challenged with crossed arms. Perfect for a worm's eye view anime shot.

“Exactly!” Twitch agreed with her hands on her hips while Hashtag zoomed in on her face, “We so almost had you!”

“Almost doesn’t change the fact that you loooostt!” Thrash taunted with a playful smirk. Pan the shot out to see Twitch roll her eyes.

“Admit it! We totally schooled you!” Mo backed her partner up and Hashtag skillfully trailed her camera to follow their comments and movements in the most dramatic angles she could.

Yet as they continued to talk amongst themselves about the game, she started feeling that weird static that liked to creep in a lot lately. She needed more action. The focus she had on the intermission was starting to get bored fast. “How ‘bout we start the next match and settle the score, huh guys!?” She interjected perhaps a bit too suddenly. Twitch definitely knew something was up. They may not be able to feel each other the same way they used to, but they have gotten quite good at reading each other after all this time.

Thankfully, Twitch let it slide for now in favor of the game, which the other three followed. The field was reset and the tie breaker round began. It was fun. Hashtag got plenty of awesome shots for the highlight reel! But it ended again far too quickly. Allowing those thoughts to start seeping through her firewalls again.

Why, after all of the craziness with those wack Quintesson guys did she have to start dealing with Starscream again! She had already gone through the whole arc of getting that dumb, backstabbing Decepticon out of her head last season! She’d thought that getting a bit of revenge by zapping him with the spear would make her feel better, but it’d only worked for like a minute! Come on, how is that fair!? Then she just had to agree to visit him last week. What a great idea that had been! She’d told Bee and everyone else she didn’t want to talk about it, but it was driving her crazy! What was all of that?! Starscream was weirder than she thought, and not the fun kind…

“Heeyyyy ya wanna come back down to Earth there Tag…?” Twitch was apparently waving her hand in front of Hashtag’s visor.

The white glare dimmed from her vision as she blinked to see only Thrash standing behind her. Maybe Mo and Robbie had been called inside? Huh.

“Uh… Yeah! Yeah– did I miss something? I was just…importing the files from the camera.” Partially true. She had been doing that in the background. She wasn’t lying.

“Nah, it’s just, we’re a bit worried about you sis… And we figured that maybe… You’d finally wanna talk about what went down when you visited Starscream?”

Oh no–Oh yes?? Oh man the Kool-Aid man was in her head now… She did want to talk about it, but she also didn’t. Ah well, the audience was awaiting her response, and she couldn’t let them down.

“I…guess?” She started hesitantly, “I mean, I’d gone there to give him a piece of my mind. Like, walk in there and give some epic speech and walk out with that watercolor freeze frame ending! But…right when I was walking in, I heard him all talking to himself or something, and it threw me off!”

Thrash laughed, “Sorry– uh continue-”

Twitch lightly shoved him before flying up closer beside Hashtag to put a hand on her shoulder. “So, what was so janky about it?”

“Well… it kinda made me think of Mandroid again. He was talking to something like it was saying mean things…then when I tried to ask, he got like, WAY spooked. That part was sorta brushed off in the moment, but I keep thinking about it with how weird he kept being afterward too. Like when I brought up our chaos Terran sibs–He acted like he totally believed he didn’t kill them before! That’s insane right?? And he called Spitfire Sprite, which is just as funny as it is kinda concerning– because why??”

“Because he’s a wackjob?” Thrash offered with a throw of his hand. “He could have just been trying to pull some weird poor me act on you like Swindle did me!”

“It didn’t seem fake…” Had it? “He also sort of lashed out at me and stuff. Bee had to jump in. And then–” Hashtag remembered just how scared Starscream had sounded when she was leaving. Had he really just been faking it? “–He also had this funky thing with his eyes where they went all glitchy and red sparks coming off him. It was kinda freaky.”

Thrash had his arms crossed as he seemed more focused on his own bitterness toward the jerk in question, although trying to hold his tongue so they could hear her out. She could appreciate that…Twitch on the other hand, had a very contemplative look in her eyes. She was no doubt attempting to work up an epic leader speech in her continuous effort to boost their morale. Hashtag should really bug her big sis about dealing with her own problems too, later.

Twitch put her hands together and pointed her fingers down at Hashtag as she decided her response. “That definitely seems like a lot, but you should really leave it to the Autobots and forget about him. He sounds like he’s a new flavor of unstable or something, and I don’t want you getting hurt. He doesn’t deserve to be rooting around in your noggin anyway. I know we’d kinda hoped that… he would become better like our boy Megs, buuuuut he chose his path. We can’t make people change.”

Hashtag flinched slightly at the small insinuation. She never wanted to force anyone to do something! But… some part of her, even after everything, felt like Starscream needed someone to get his head on straight. Aw man that was what it was wasn’t it? She can’t be feeling bad for him again! He’d just turn around and throw it in her face the next time he could. History shows it clear as day. Yet she couldn’t shake the thought no matter how hard she tried. Hashtag was still so mad at him. But something was still wrong about what she saw… she could feel it.

“I-I know!” Hashtag responded with the burning frustration at her stupidly contradictory thoughts infiltrating her voice. She took a deep breath. “I know that. But you weren’t there. I-it’s–I know he betrayed us, did horrible things to us and Terratronus, is a complete maniac–and I haven’t forgiven him for that! But I also can’t help but remember our first meeting in those catacombs when I had to defend him from Megatron. Or when I’d convinced him to help us. Or when he was ready to sacrifice himself to the Dweller back then. That couldn’t have meant nothing! He’d been so surprised when I guessed a bit about him and Megs…Even if the jerk keeps acting like– just–ugh, my head hurts so much guys…”

Her brother and sister’s eyes had widened at her rant, and she just looked out at them pleadingly. Hashtag desperately wanted someone to explain it to her. To make it all make sense. She’d tried to consult the internet as she always did when faced with a problem. But no psychology article, or character analysis, helped. It didn’t change how annoyed it made her feel about the whole, completely stupid situation.

Twitch lowered herself to the ground, her rotors drooping in sympathy, “Hey, hey, it’s okay! We’re here for you sis… we can figure it out together.”

Thrash stepped closer. “Yeah! Uh, I’m still not really sold on anything about that guy–but if it’s really bothering you…I won’t tell ya how much of a horrible idea it is to even think about giving that guy another chance.” Twitch smacked the back of his head, “Ow! C’mon that’s what she’s saying, right?” Then he had to look to her for answers.

But Hashtag didn’t know. Was that what she wanted? Did she even think it was possible? Why was he asking her?? She didn’t know everything! Why couldn’t they give her the answer for once! Wait…that wasn’t fair. Twitch came up with plans all the time.

Hashtag slumped down to the dirt with a groan as she buried her face in her arms. “I don’t know…” She could feel her siblings kneel down beside her as they hugged her shoulders. It was comforting. Feeling them so close like that, made her remember she wasn’t alone. They were trying to help. They were there and trying to tell her that. She just needed to make sure to believe it.

She took regulated, 10 second breaths as she took in that moment and desperately tried to shelve the pesky thoughts lingering in her head. Then she allowed herself to reach out and pull her siblings close to her chest. Even if none of them knew how to deal with this. Even if it never made sense… At least she’d have her family for some semblance of continuity.

“I love you guys so much. I didn’t want to bother you with this janky mess I wrapped myself up in…” Hashtag had her eyes squeezed shut, and very much was fishing for them to say those words back to her.

And they did. Of course.

“We love you too Tag…” Both her siblings assured her as they nestled just a little bit closer. They all held some bit of lingering paranoia that they could lose each other. That something would come up again to try and tear them apart. Hashtag so didn’t want to be a part of the kickstarter for another save the world scenario.

Twitch patted Hashtag’s hand and smiled. “You’ll never be able to be a burden to us sis. And don’t try and blame yourself. Starscream’s got his whole thing, and we’ve got time to see how that goes.”

“Yeah!” Thrash piped up, trying to add a bit of energy to the somber air. “He’s locked up safe and sound and junk so ya don’t gotta worry about that loony toon dude–And maybe we could just ask Bee if he’s got any updates sometime!”

“Oh! Or Megatron might even have a better idea since they know each other more right?” Twitch added.

“Heh…” Hashtag smiled and wiped the smidge of sparkly cinematic tears from her eyes. “Yeah… Maybe.”

Then Mom called for them all to come to the window for dinner. Nightshade was creeping out from the barn, while Jawbreaker was waving his goodbyes to Grimlock before joining them. They were all there. They were okay. And no crazy wave of chaos was going to change that.

Chapter Text

“I just don’t know, Optimus.”

Megatron leaned against the steel bars overseeing the cameras with crossed arms. He’d been loitering in silence for quite some time as he observed Ori–Optimus, type away at the databanks. Prowl and him had been working rather constantly in the effort to locate the ship the Decepticons had stolen. But Megatron had asked him to relocate his efforts to this access point to their system, so that they could keep an eye on Starscream.

“About what?” His old friend finally inquired. The mech surely knew of what he spoke, yet was merely prodding him to further explain his thoughts.

“Starscream.” Megatron gestured towards the caged seeker on the screen, even if Optimus wasn’t looking at him. His former second was just pacing as he so often did, but he also seemed to be intentionally calling upon that unstable power Megatron had seen him carry. “His recent behavior bothers me.”

“That so?” Optimus removed his servos from the keys and turned to face him as a show of his attention. “What about it concerns you?”

Megatron stared at the monitor a moment before sighing and refocusing his gaze upon Optimus. “The aggression. It is less like him to lash out in the way I’ve witnessed as of late. When it comes to his anger, I've known him to often be more… snide, than explosive. Do you suppose it has to do with the corrupted Emberstone incident?” A rather vague question, yet he knew his partner would understand the full scope of its implications.

“I suppose,” Optimus followed Megatron’s previous gaze to the smaller corner of the large board of screens displaying the seeker for a moment. Of whom looked to be rambling about something, and punching the wall in a little tantrum. “It is rather odd. Even so, should it not bring you comfort that he is within our custody? He poses no threat from here. Or is it perhaps a more personal matter to you, Megatron? Did the conversation you two shared not go well?”

“It went as well as it could. We have…never been quite good at…talking.” Megatron tapped a finger against his plating in thought. Starscream had always held a particular seat in his mind through the years. He kept him on his toes, even when Megatron hadn’t wanted him to. “I know it seems like he is secure at the moment,” He continued, “yet I cannot help but question how long it will be until he manages to escape and continue on with his questionable goals. I had tried to determine what his next move could be, but he still eludes me with his backwards talk.”

Optimus hummed and slowly began to resume his typing, now only half focusing on his work. “Would perhaps, upping security ease your mind old friend?”

“Perhaps…” Megatron contemplates this offer. What more security could be implemented? It seemed useless to station someone outside Starscream’s cell to just sit there when they could be useful elsewhere, especially when they already have eyes on him from here. Plus, he could just use someone’s presence as an opportunity to trick them somehow. Obviously then, Megatron would be the best suited for such a station, but that was not going to happen. Prowl would likely not trust him for the task. They may have gotten on slightly friendlier terms, but one act in battle could not wash away centuries. Well…that statement could be debated on circumstance, he supposed. But that was a worn out topic in his processor.

“Regardless, I can assure you, that even if he does somehow escape as he did before; we will be notified immediately.” Optimus’ antennae tipped back only slightly, in a way that informed of the ridiculous smirk the mech no doubt brought to his faceplate. “You should not worry so much! Maybe all you need is a walk in the sun. That is what the humans say is a cure-all for a dower mood! We have been stuck in this stuffy rock for quite some time, after all.”

Megatron chuckled, “If you are going to try and send me off on some frivolous nature stroll, then I will be forced to drag your workaholic aft out there with me!” He removed himself from the steel ledge guards and made his way by Optimus’ side to punch his shoulder. “You need it just as much as I.”

Optimus rolled his eyes and glared with a fond grin at the playful threat. “That may be so, but my responsibilities as leader would not allow me such things at this time.”

“Preposterous! Shoulder the load to someone else. You cannot rust in here while insisting I take leave.” Megatron put his hands on his hips like he was talking to a sparkling. Which his old friend very well could be sometimes.

“I will not simply pass my burdens upon my comrades for my own pleasure, thank you.”

Megatron groaned, “Oh don’t phrase it like that.”

Optimus sighed and brushed Megatron out of the way to reach a different conduit. “It is accurate. Now unless you intend on assisting me with my work, you should decompress elsewhere for the time being.”

Megatron’s posture drooped slightly as he watched his partner continue on in his mission. The fool was always so focused on others. Putting so much pressure on his plate alone like he was the soul force that kept the planets aligned. Sure, he occasionally relied on others quite well. But in these past years of working alongside his partner, Megatron had seen just how absurdly stubborn the mech could be.

He knew the Prime would want him to simply heed his word and not pry further, as per their conversation about Megatron’s tendency to question him perhaps a bit too often. Even so, this was different. A matter of a concerned compatriot enforcing a bit of necessary self-care. Whether the mech would be mad at him or not was an irrelevant notion, and could even be quite amusing.

So Megatron began to extend a hand to take the Matrix driven mech’s arm, “Come now Optimus–”

When suddenly, the alarm blared obnoxiously through the base. Megatron’s helm immediately shot to the monitor to see a cell filled with nothing but a bit of ash and a barrier littered with chaotic sparks.

Starscream was gone.

***

Starscream paced back and forth across his prison in a rather short path. An intentional stride, as he found that the less distance he allowed himself to travel, the more it lent to instead increasing the tension within him. That was what he needed. Calm wasn’t going to get him out of here.

Frag having a cool head. Any rational plan would just come back to blow up in his face. No, they’d expect that classic, clever, scheming Starscream. They’d surely predict any little uselessly intricate plan he could concoct, and crush it, if his own Primus damned processor didn’t accomplish that first.

Red lightning was steadily increasing in intensity across his frame. Good.

No one had visited him after his horribly done exchange with Hashtag, and that had left him with plenty of time to focus on finally getting a better handle on Quitus’ curse. It thrived off of anger, spite, and destructive thoughts. Starscream had that in spades! If it wanted him to disintegrate the structure housing them, or crush the mechs caging him into sniveling lumps of slag, it was about time it helped him do it.

“You will do as I command or so help me Quintus–” Starscream hissed at the crimson air as he flexed his shaking servos.

“Planning on showing the world just how dangerous you truly are, Transformer?” Mandroid was right by his peds with his absolutely revolting amalgamation of parts and flesh before him. “Prove me right.” The wretched pest had such a mad grin on its squishy faceplate and a taunting tone that made him sick. Making the power surge in his spark.

Starscream yelled in a rather embarrassingly feral manner as he launched a fist down upon its helm–head–whatever the damn human had! Even with his new found speed and electrified assault power under his control, the illusion managed to escape into whatever Pit it had spawned from. All with an infuriating laugh. He thrusted a fist into the wall to test his strength against it, before turning to survey the little space he aimed to destroy.

“I will never take orders from a human.” Starscream growled at the phantom. “I will use this power because I need to. What I will prove, is just how capable I am no matter what these fragging fools throw at me!” He began to laugh. “They think… They think they can cage me like an animal. That they can just mock me, and leave me to rust away out of sight from whatever pathetic fantasy they think they’ve created for themselves out there?! They think they can leave me behind as they praise the oh so beloved LORD Megatron– DO THEY? She thinks I am WORSE than HIM, does she? Oh… but I can be so much better…”

The power shot through his frame and out from his peds, causing him to yell in surprise from the sudden shock. He panted unevenly on his knees as his wings shook painfully, pulling a servo to his helm to grip the edge of his optic. No… he couldn’t focus on revenge right now. He just needed to get out.

“Mm… Regardless…” He dragged his impaired frame from the floor with an addled voice box, slouching far much more than he would like. He felt heavy. He hated it. But it was a necessary evil to lean into this curse’s power.

Starscream made his way over to the barrier that led into the corridor, and directed the lightning to collect at his servos and shoot into its target. It rapidly spread across the surface which rippled and strained to keep its shape. His spark ached as he forced it out, and finally, the barrier sputtered and shrunk away into pathetic wisps. The controls were sparking wildly and exploded into a stream of smoke.

He hesitated in the doorway for a nano klick before a siren shrieked through his audials, causing him to yelp and spring into action. His peds automatically tracked the same path they had taken the last time he’d broken out. He wasn’t thinking about whether it’d be predictable. Whether they’d be waiting for him. Or if the exit he had closed off would actually be open again. He was just running.

And this time, as soon as the force fields began closing behind him, he immediately transformed and blasted through the tunnel. Starscream’s engines shot red as the lightning flickered off his frame. He was going so fast that if he weren’t the exceedingly skilled flier he was, he’d have eaten metal by now. But of course he naturally dodged around every corner and eventually–

No. He needed a missile to destroy the door. But he hadn’t had the time to locate his confiscated weaponry.

Starscream transformed mid-air to launch himself into the door in a super powered kick. Only a sizable, useless dent resulted. He looked at it in disbelief then turned to survey his surroundings wildly. There had to be another way. He dashed around the closed off room at a blinding speed. There was no other exit that wasn’t already blocked.

“SCRAP! NO NO NO ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” Starscream desperately shot streams of lightning at the door. Punched and kicked as hard as he could–and it was starting to work! He just needed to focus on the bent seam… But he heard a crowd of noisy pedsteps rapidly approaching his position. They were barking some strings of orders to each other or perhaps at him, but he didn’t care to make out what any of it was. He just needed to–

Suddenly, the space between his wings was burning in an all too familiar way, and his front was thrusted into the uneven wall. Time was up. It couldn’t end this way so easily. There was no way he wouldn’t go down without a fight now. Starscream quickly stumbled to his peds and turned to immediately blast a stream of crimson lightning from his servo.

The group of bots scattered in surprise, with one blasted mech attempting ridiculously to call out his designation.

“Stop this now, Starscream! You know you are outnumbered!” Megatron was once again so desperately trying to control him. Acting like he knew his limits of what he could and couldn’t do.

“SHUT UP!” He screamed as he threw continuous follies of the curse’s power at his assailants. “I will not allow you to have the pleasure of taking me alive today to be smelted under your petty gaze! Either I am getting out of here, OR NOBODY IS!” Maybe Starscream could draw their fire at the door behind him, or maybe he could simply disintegrate them all here and now and seize the base for himself. Both flickering visions in his processor paired with all the ways he could leave them as smoldering piles of ash. The siren still wouldn’t cease its incessant whining.

The surrounding mechs became scattered, and he rapidly made certain to dodge every shot sent his way paired with an equal retaliation. He’d get some shots off, but they were still closing in. He finally managed to get the pink one to stay down, leaving the red femme to see to her companion like a weak fool. Starscream attempted to shoot the pair to finish them off, but was blocked by that slagger Prime with his stupid axe.

There was still Megatron lurking in his hazed vision, and he redirected his fire toward the bucket head. Yet something bothered him about the roster he saw around him. Where was that blasted bot Prowler? Why wasn’t he here with them? Bumblebee’s absence could be excused, but that tactician’s was far too precarious. Were they planning something?

Suddenly, Megatron and the others slinked a peculiar amount of steps from his position. Something was happening.

Blasters retracted from the ceilings and began raining relentless fire upon him. He frantically dodged what he could, but was surprised by the unexpected direction, resulting in a hole to be scorched through his wing before he could decommission the blasters. While he was distracted, the Prime attempted to rush him, but he was all too obvious and Starscream dived out of the way with the intent of a counter attack. Apparently, that was what they wanted, because then he found Megatron’s monstrous chassis slamming into him.

“GET OFF OF ME!” Starscream demanded as he struggled for control.

“Not until you surrender!” Megatron was insane! The longer he remained in contact with Starscream’s corrupted frame, he was easily in the line of fire to become overcome from helm to ped with the electricity. But he wouldn’t let go. Starscream could hardly move.

“Never.” Starscream growled lowly through his absurdly rapid vents, of which were absolutely useless in cooling the heat burning his spark and processor. He kicked and pulled in practically any effort he could to gain some leverage. Yet right when he had finally freed a servo to try and deck Megatron in the faceplate, of course the Prime had to step in and force Starscream’s servo back to the ground with his axe. A flash of amusement flitted through him at how the reckless leader of the Autobots was less willing to touch him than the ever self-perseverating former warlord.

“It’s over, Starscream. Stand down.” Megatron growled through gritted dentas, and crushed Starscream’s ped as a nice little punctuation to his order.

Starscream refused to give the silver brute the scream or pleas of mercy he no doubt sought from the action. All the same, he felt like he was about to explode. The power wracking his frame was starting to take its toll. The world was spinning, and the more he continued to struggle, the more desperately he felt the need to be anywhere but in this moment. Well, perhaps not anywhere. Surely he could think of many worse things–scrap that was a bad direction to take that thought.

The siren warped into a wretched ringing that swirled in his helm. His optics were glitching so harshly that he could barely make out pixels beyond mere silhouettes, and the lights glared painfully. He could feel his vocalizer saying something to his captors, and he could faintly recognize that they were responding. But what were they saying? He didn’t want this power anymore. It hadn’t helped him. It never did.

“W– tranq–quickly!”

What?

Starscream tried to look at what they were doing as he pushed against Megatron’s servo. It was a needle. They were getting closer.

He panicked and flailed to the point that he twisted his stabilizing servo out of its socket to allow his upper half the opportunity to slip out from under the mech for even just a moment. But it didn’t matter. He was pinned again and they stuck him with whatever it was.

Of which, rapidly started making every circuit in his frame feel disgustingly limp.

He desperately fought to stay conscious. But just like everything in his life. It was useless.

Chapter Text

Once they had finally managed to tranquilize Starscream through his absurd amount of flailing, Megatron had carried his mangled frame to the medbay. Arcee was seen to by Wheeljack first, of course. Megatron had found himself on auto pilot as he watched and waited until he could finally release the seeker from his periodically tense hold.

Soon enough, Elita-1 took Arcee to a separate room to lie down, and Megatron carefully approached to place Starscream on the medberth. Leaked Energon dripped from Megatron’s servos and spotted the ground. He stared down at it. Then back at Starscream.

“Are you alright, Megatron?” Optimus’ servo was suddenly upon his shoulder and he flinched.

“Ah– Yes. Yes of course…” He responded with a gentle brushing away of the attempt at comfort from the sentimental mech. Megatron’s gaze flickered only momentarily to address the question before falling back upon the air commander. The sparking, practically entirely severed, crushed limb. The scorched, leaking chasm in the wing. Every dent, crack, and burn.

“Would you like to be given a quick check at least? You took quite the blow yourself–”

“No.” Megatron snapped a bit too forcefully with a hand raised to silence him, then in-vented in a practiced means at cooling his nerves. “Starscream requires such attention more than I, at the moment.”

Wheeljack shrugged as he turned back towards the medberth with newly acquired materials. “Alrighty then. Might I ask y’all what ol’ Screamer did ta get this banged up?”

“How about you focus on your work instead of bothering yourself with such details, medic.” Megatron forcefully kept his tone as monotone as he could. He often tired of how needlessly talkative the Autobots could be. There was no reason to talk about such things after it had already been done. How would describing just how Starscream had severed his own ped from his frame, in some insane act of desperation, possibly aid in repairing it?

Prowl looked as if he was ready to berate him for the comment for some reason or another. He was only stopped by Optimus inserting himself between them with his more softly toned criticism, “I know you are concerned Megatron, but do refrain from lashing out at your team. Perhaps you should take a seat, and we all may discuss the past hour’s events.”

Megatron’s optical ridge furrowed as the frown deepened on his face. He had hardly lashed out. These mechs could be so sensitive. Even so, he knew Optimus was right. Perhaps it would be good to discuss it, to some regard. There were a good deal of things to consider, in a matter of building upon what the future would hold as a result. That must have been what Wheeljack had meant all along. Megatron’s anger had always been quite a volatile thing to balance.

“Fine.” He inevitably relented to join Optimus and Prowl at a cluster of crates used in place of chairs.

“Yeesh, I’d bet we could cut this tension y’all got goin’ on with the dullest knife in the bottom of my tool box.” Wheeljack commented ridiculously, but at least he was finally beginning the patch job as he should. Then, as the mech actually gave more precise focus to his work, he hummed and tapped at a few select places on Starscream’s chassis. The most noticeable being the odd red cracks extending down from the optics. “This ain’t any of your doin’ I reckon.” As he tested it with a scalpel, Starscream tensed and a reactive crimson light shone dimly from somewhere within his broken cockpit.

Megatron’s eyes widened, “Leave that be.” He ordered, but then remembered again that it might be better to give more explanation. “...He seems to still be connected to the effects of the more chaotic side of the Emberstone. It would be wise not to test it, as we do not know what exactly triggers the episodes.”

“Did you know about this?” Prowl questioned in a rather accusatory tone.

“Only recently.”

“That is soon enough to inform your team of the obvious threat! How could you just let such a thing linger, and wait until it explodes on us?” Prowler’s stance was practically revving to jump from his seat, as he leaned forward just enough to gesture a servo in Megatron’s direction around Optimus.

Optimus of course, raised his hands placatingly to diffuse the growing situation. “Megatron informed me about what he had seen as soon as he could, Prowl. We simply underestimated what it could entail.”

Prowler immediately reeled himself in to assume a more professional posture, “I see… Well. I must admit, Optimus sir, that I also find it a bit strange that we brought such a clearly volatile Decepticon here to be repaired. Would it not just be a waste, when as soon as he’d come back online he’d no doubt cause us continued trouble? If we cannot keep him contained in the brig, and we cannot nullify whatever power he has harnessed, then it would be the most effective solution to simply terminate him.”

Megatron clenched his fists and glowered his optics. “Effective…?” He breathed in a near whisper at the absolute gall of the proposition. As an infamous Decepticon trapper, was that how this mech had orchestrated his operations during the war? Execution merely based on fear? Or an overt disregard for the lives of their enemy if they outlived their supposed usefulness, or tipped some untold scale of risk? Optimus would never allow such a thing!

Then again, the Decepticons had carried out such orders towards Autobots during the war as well. The realization made his shoulders slump as a more somber air replaced his anger. There…could be some logic in Prowl’s query, he supposed. He was certainly no mech to judge the thought, after all.

Regardless, Megatron would not allow what he’d just witnessed to be left to become yet another regret to haunt his processor. Starscream was not beyond redemption. He was sick. There had to be something they could do. Megatron couldn’t simply toss Starscream to the Pit this time. He wouldn’t.

“We do not terminate our prisoners.” Optimus started with an assured lilt in his tone as he kept Megatron in the edge of his vision. “Instead, we must determine an alternative approach.”

The plainly obvious statement left both Megatron and Prowl staring at the Prime silently. To Prowler’s credit, he seemed to be having a thousand thoughts running through his head in some effort to piece together the answer. Megatron only found his own thoughts rather blank. He wasn’t sure what they could do. What would be the best way to handle Starscream’s erratic nature? Not to mention the strange affliction the seeker had given himself. Who would Starscream possibly be swayed by?

…The Terrans?

Finally, Prowler spoke up as he realized that it seemed they were all waiting for someone else to make the next move. Although only in an effort to gain some clarification from his leader. “Which would be…what, sir?” Perhaps he had become more hesitant to voice his own choice of action.

Optimus pulled a servo to his chin in a contemplative gesture, “Hm, I admit I am a bit unsure in that regard.”

“Well, if ya ask me, the only other place we really have in the matter of alternative accommodations would be with those Malto’s.” Wheeljack contributed whilst still amidst his tinkering. An admittedly impressive feat. “Now I know it may seem a bit risky to let our con commander here ‘round the kids, but I’m sure we all know how capable they can be.”

“Oh, yes, perhaps some access to the outdoors could aid Starscream after being cooped up for so long. Like what I was telling you earlier, Megatron!” Optimus motioned to him with a flick of his antennae and a grin as if he alone had come to that revelation. Megatron couldn’t help but give a small, fond smile at the mech.

Prowler took in a long breath, oddly similar to Megatron’s own methods at stabilizing himself, and realigned his previously lost optics to be flat, and rather resigned. “I will trust your judgment.” Then he stood with a new pace of determination on his faceplate. “However, if we will indeed be proceeding with such a course of action, I will insist on precautionary measures.”

“I’d expect nothing less.” Optimus watched his tactician rummage through their supplies, with a newfound gleam of hope in his eyes. Then, he turned his attention to Megatron, “What do you think? Do you believe this approach could work?”

He hesitated a moment as he pondered over his words, “Well… the thought did come to my own mind, in passing. Starscream had shown some strange fondness towards the Terrans… at least Hashtag, to my knowledge. Despite what he had done. She had been able to bring out something within him once. I do not doubt it possible again.”

Optimus nodded and followed Megatron’s wandering gaze towards the seeker. Wheeljack had just about finished smoothing out the patch on the wing, and was now arranging to replace the cracked cockpit. Did repairs always take this long?

“I will contact Bumblebee to get him up to speed on the new arrangement.” Optimus announced as he took to his peds and made his way towards the door.

“Hm, yes.” Megatron ceased his anxious tapping and stood to join him. “I will call Dorothy. She will no doubt have some grievances to be quelled about the idea.”

The medbay door closed behind them, and they each took to their own spot in the hall to make their calls. Megatron placed a digit to his helm and sent the signal to Dorothy’s cell. His comm played a little rhythmic tune of sorts as he waited for a response. It was just as mundanely aggravating as the concept of elevator music. He should really disconnect that silly feature.

Finally, Dorothy’s voice came through with her signature greeting, “What’s up Megs?”

“Hello, Dorothy. There is something we must discuss as a result of a recent development. Regarding Starscream.” Megatron was relieved to hear his friend's voice, yet also knew just how precarious this conversion was bound to become.

“That right?” She of course quickly caught on to the anxious air.

“Yes, he had tried to escape, and…it was quite the spectacle. He was just about ready to die before allowing himself to return to his cell. I admit, it was rather startling. So, we have come to the decision that perhaps time elsewhere could serve him better.” Megatron tapped his finger against the railing as he attempted to filter his thoughts, and prepare for her response to them. “Under the supervision of you and your family.”

“Really now? Are you honestly telling me that the best idea you’ve got, is to send that maniac here, around my kids? Megs…”

“I know…But I do believe your children to be the exact influence he needs. As it has been, his mental state has only seemed to worsen which only aids to increase the danger he poses. We can’t simply send him back to the brig where he just may as well do something foolish.”

“You’re worried about him.” They both remained quiet for a moment. He wasn’t sure if he could admit it, but she understood as she so often did. Dorothy sighed, obviously still unsure, but willing to relent nevertheless. “Okay. If you’re sure. I’ll discuss it with the rest of them. But you’ll have to promise me–that bot won’t ever be allowed to hurt any of my babies again. Got that? You have a plan, don’t you?”

“Yes. I promise.”

***

Everything ached. That wasn’t exactly new. Although the lingering pain in a peculiar corner in his spark was certainly…something.

Starscream groaned as his systems struggled to come back online with at the very least, adequately functional sensors. Sound was garbled like a horribly received connection that he needed to internally adjust until it could make any form of sense. When he tried to begin onlining his optics, it was revoltingly bright, and he had to once again filter through his settings to find something tolerable.

Where was he?

What had happened?

…Why couldn’t he move?

A gripping fear suddenly strangled his spark as he realized that he couldn’t bring his servo to his faceplate, and his wings felt far too cramped as they were pressed against some constricting surface.

Starscream pulled at the clamps holding him firmly in place. Not again. He was not going to be those humans’ robotics projects. He desperately cycled his optics to try and make sense of his surroundings. He could hear the steps and chaotic chatter of those vermin all around him. There was equipment beside him. What were they going to do this time? Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to lay there and take it.

An oddly large shadow loomed over him with extending servos. Mandroid’s voice echoed in his audials, “Struggle all you like. But it will not change your fate.”

Starscream yanked painfully against the brace on his wrist until a burst of energy allowed him to break it and throw a punch at the offending silhouette. He wanted to shout some deserved obscenities at the pest, but his voice box wouldn’t work. When his fist connected with metal, he assumed he’d simply been blocked, which infuriated him. That fissure in his spark stabbed through his frame, and he began to shake ridiculously. What was that? Wait. His free servo was stuck again. And his digits were being individually bent in some odd pattern, for some reason.

Then, he started to hear a voice he hadn’t heard in quite some time, calling his designation. “--Scream, Starscream! Hey, c’mon, what’s goin’ on in that crazy processor of yours? Calm down will ya?” Wheeljack? Why was he here?

Starscream blinked. Something wasn’t right. He tried his best to steady his vents as he focused on the ridiculous sensation the mech insisted on inflicting on his servo. Eventually, he could finally make out the white, red, and green overseeing him. As well as a second pair of Autobots across the room. Prowl, and the Prime.

Right. This was the Autobot base. Not G.H.O.S.T.'s.

Well that was embarrassing.

Starscream’s wings twitched, as much as they could given his position. Wheeljack looked some type of determined. A reflexive response no doubt. Prowl looked a mix of surprised and appalled, it was actually quite hilarious– except that Prime’s stupid face ruined it. He didn’t need nor want that self-righteous mech’s pity.

“Ya with us there Screamer?” Wheeljack asked more directly as he finally began to release Starscream’s servo.

He stared at him, confused and a bit annoyed. Had he not already given them a response? What sort of question was that?

Ah, apparently it would seem as though his vocalizer was still on the fritz. Starscream raised a servo as indication that he needed a moment as he recalibrated his voice box. This was pathetic.

When he only managed to sputter beeps and clicks, red sparks flared off him angrily a moment as he punched his chassis until the words could be forced out. Wheeljack chastised him for it, but frag him. “WHAT–” Starscream adjusted his volume– “What, is going on here?” Had they really brought him to their technician after he’d almost escaped? That seemed absurd. Perhaps they’d implanted a remote explosive somewhere in his frame.

“Well, I fixed ya up, added Prowl’s little boot, and those two got a deal for ya. Sorry ‘bout the restraints.” Wheeljack began to release him from the medberth. None of this was answering his question. “We weren’t sure if ya’d go immediately ballistic or somethin’ when ya woke up.”

Prowl crossed his arms. “I’d say we were certainly right to do so.”

As Starscream stood, he just about stumbled with a wave of disorientation, but skillfully used it to transition into a snarky servo to a tilted hip. “Of course.” He glared at them until he noticed how one of his peds felt heavier than it should, and lifted it to complain. “But what on Cybertron is this, for?” Then he remembered Wheeljack’s previous statement and straightened himself with an air of guarded curiosity. “And what is this about a deal?”

“That,” Prowl gestured to the ugly, boxy device attached to Starscream’s ped, “Is insurance. All you need to know, is that if you try anything with that power of yours, that device will render you imobile.”

“It tracks your sparkbeat, power surges, fun stuff like that.” Wheeljack listed on a pair of digits, which Prowl didn’t seem too happy about. “I promise it won’t blow up or nothin’!” Coming from this mech, such a promise hardly meant anything.

“Yes, you have my utmost confidence, Wheeljack.” Starscream rolled his optics tiredly, then kicked his ped in a display of his distaste for the accessory. “It is entirely impractical. How do you expect me to transform with this blasted thing?!”

“Exactly.” Prowler crossed his arms with an expression void of any sympathy. Primus did his faceplate look punchable.

Starscream whined with a slight slump to his wings, before the Prime interjected himself to continue the dreadful conversation. “In regards to the deal, we have decided that you will no longer be staying in the brig.” Starscream perked at this, although couldn’t help but be skeptical. “Instead, you will stay with the Malto family.”

That was not exactly what he was expecting.

Starscream stared blankly at them a moment before remembering to speak, “...What will such an arrangement entail, exactly?” Surely it was some new scheme of theirs to pacify him. He didn’t trust it.

The Prime seemed oddly surprised by his response, then took a step forward, an action of which Starscream forced himself to not reactively back away from. “Well, given your obvious distress, we thought you’d benefit from the opportunity to have access to the outdoors. You could perhaps learn to appreciate what Earth has to offer. Observe how well a family made of transformers and humans can function. My hope, is that it could be your own path towards redemption alongside Megatron!”

Starscream’s faceplate scrunched in disgust at the mention of his former leader. “Redemption. Right.” Although the prospect of appreciating Earth would be laughable.

Prowler sent him a discrete glare with narrowed optics. The Prime only looked like a kicked cyberdog. Perhaps they were hoping he’d get on his knees to praise their ever expansive mercy. That he should thank them for such an offer. As if it even were one. This wasn’t a deal. It was an order.

He in-vented steadily before preparing them a smile, and arranging a loose, confident posture as he strode towards them. “That sounds just wonderful.” He crooned in a disguised taunt as he slid by Prowl, then practically danced around the Prime. “I promise to be on my best behavior! I am truly honored that you all have decided to permit my grand exit from your lovely accommodations. Such a gracious act, that I will make certain not to let go to waste, I assure you!” Starscream led the way out of the medbay with the two bots trailing behind him.

“You’d better not.” Prowl commented in a cute little threat as he split away from them.

“What he means is,” The Prime began as he caught up by Starscream’s side, “This could be a very important step in us truly being able to trust you, Starscream. Which would in turn lead to the possibility of your true freedom, and permanent alliance with the Autobots, if you so choose.”

Starscream scrutinized the mech from the corner of his optic, and held his servos behind him professionally. If they actually wanted his alliship as the Prime proclaims, they would have accepted his offer back at the Titan. They’d only pulled this out of their afts now out of newly realized necessity, after the rather explosive display he’d given them. They didn’t care. They just wanted to control him. All it was is a new, creative way of containing him. They couldn’t con a con.

“Yes, I’m sure that is what he meant.” It was clear sarcasm, and yet he aligned his vocalizer to imitate pure sincerity. Well, as much as he could.

The Prime actually looked a touch annoyed with partially lowered optical lids. How amusing. “I do urge you to take this seriously. You realize the risk involved in this.”

Starscream scoffed in half feigned offense with a servo to his chassis. “Of course I do. Do you take me for a fool?”

The Prime hesitated as if an affirmation of the rhetorical question floated just behind his intake. Rude. Regardless, they eventually came upon their first destination that consisted of a trailer, and those two Autobot femmes. That was foreboding.

“Ready when you are Optimus.” The one he recognized to be identified as Elita-1, reported stoically.

With the uncomfortably upbeat Arcee adding, “So we’re really doing this? Y’know– you and I really should have a rematch sometime Screamer! You can’t pull a cheap shot on me twice!” She apparently saw it appropriate to approach him and throw her arm around his neck to pull his helm down close to hers. She prodded his chassis to emphasize her challenge, but the energy she exuded was beyond confusing. “I. Will. Destroy you.” There was a painful pause as her touch lingered. “But that's fun for another day!” Then she finally broke away from him to flip into her alt mode beside the trailer.

Starscream hadn’t realized just how tense he had become until his wings flicked back into place and he chuckled anxiously. His blasted vocalizer cracked again. “Oh yes, fun! I– look forward to it…” He examined the situation before him and regarded the open trailer with contempt. Especially when the Prime began leading him towards it. “Is this–” He gestured to the metal box– “Really necessary? Surely we could simply walk-”

“Nope.” Elita-1 slapped a servo to his arm and yanked him down to be shoved inside. What was with these femmes in tossing him around! And who designed this blasted trailer! It was like being stuck in a fragging compactor.

“Apologies, Starscream, but without access to your alt form, this is the most efficient means of transportation.” The Prime said stupidly as the trailer was tilted to be adjusted onto his frame.

Starscream was sealed inside this absurdly small containment for obviously no more reason than their own amusement. His wings were pulled in tightly with mere centihics between him and the walls. There was absolutely no, fragging, way, to get comfortable in the slagging thing. The walls were too close. The most he could do was have one knee lifted halfway with one servo placed upon it while he leaned at an awkward slant so he didn’t ram his helm on the top. He felt stupid. It was too slagging cramped in this mistake of manufacturing.

Primus Starscream wished Skywarp and Novastorm had destroyed it when they’d had the chance. He was certainly going to make it his first act of justified pettiness on these Auto-glitches, to blow it into melting slag the nano-klick he got his missiles back.

Chapter Text

Finally.

After an absurd amount of kliks being knocked around the blasted box the bots had apparently needed to throw him in, they reached their destination. Signaled by the gradual slowing of momentum, paired with a collection of conversation, and the trailer door beginning to be pulled open. Starscream was not going to allow either of those femmes to wrestle him out of his predicament, he needed some dignity. So, he maneuvered himself as closely to the entrance as he could to prepare his exit.

The effort was extremely uncomfortable, but he didn’t care, as long as he got out of there with at least a scrap of his pride intact. As soon as Elita-1 became fully visible, he shoved her aside with one servo while pushing off from the edge of the trailer with the other. “Out of my way!” He’d almost stumbled into a faceplate full of dirt, but instead ducked into a haphazard roll with an involuntary yelp. Not exactly as graceful as he would hope. Starscream’s wings fluttered and twitched in relief from finally being able to move, although it perhaps too could reflect his lingering embarrassment. He quickly picked himself up and dusted his servos with an air of disinterest. “I will never understand the choice to travel by way of wheels.”

Arcee had the audacity to laugh. “Aww, someone’s cranky.”

He glared at her, up until he noticed Elita-1 staring him down in turn. A rather malicious grin came upon her faceplate as she approached him. “Have fun at con daycare. Don’t make me come pick you up early.” She hit her shoulder against his as she forced herself past. “C’mon Cee.” Arcee shrugged and they made their oddly hasty retreat, as if they had something better to do.

Starscream flapped his servo in a mocking gesture as he muttered their words in a perfect imitation of what they sounded like. Then flinched to rigid attention when the Prime called his designation. Who was followed by the bug trailing behind him with a pouty squint to his optics.

“Starscream. Will you follow us to the barn please?” The Prime was apparently quite fond of phrasing his orders as if they were requests.

“You talk as if I have a choice in the matter.” Starscream tossed his servo at the absurdity before making his way by their side.

“Tough Screamer. We aren’t exactly thrilled about this either.” Bumblebee kept pace if only to point a digit at Starscream to display his clear frustration at the seeker’s intrusion on his human hideout. “But Optimus is trusting me with this assignment–so just know that we’re not here to mess around. This is very serious.”

“I’m sure he’s aware, Bumblebee.” The Prime was standing right at Starscream’s wing opposite to the bug. Great. Boxed in between two bots to be chaperoned away to a different wooden box. He was thrilled.

So much so in fact that he began to ignore them in favor of scanning his surroundings. They looked to be in a patch of wilderness cleared out for an organic farm of some sort. Beside the “barn” was assumedly where the humans took residence. The Malto’s human femme guardian, he couldn’t quite recall her designation, was loitering at the entrance. Talking with Megatron.

Starscream stopped walking.

What were they conspiring about over there? That human was the leader of their odd family if he remembered correctly. Was that the “Dorothy” Megatron had referenced in the brig? The buckethead already had an inside agent with full control over the operation! She’d report any measly thing Starscream would do–to him. Of course they would put Megatron in charge of this little scheme of theirs. They were probably discussing all of what he should be notified about. Starscream could vent incorrectly. Or tip over one of those fences. Or get one of their designations wrong. Or not stand right. Talk too much. Or not enough. What other things might he be able to do wrong? Megatron would surely be sent to rip his wings off if he didn’t behave how they wanted. But Starscream didn’t know how these mechs thought he was supposed to act! Even when he’d thought he’d known how to navigate the Decepticons, he always had found a way to anger Megatron!

Primus, he was doomed.

“Are you alright?”

Starscream jerked and shuttered his optics. “W-what?”

It was the Prime. Had they been trying to get his attention and realized he had started to ignore them? Scrap–he’d been ignoring them! And Megatron had certainly seen him shove the femme aside earlier… He was so, so fragged.

“I asked if you’re alright.” The Prime repeated, and Bumblebee was looking at him weird.

Megatron was looking at him.

“YES–never better–in here, you said? So sorry for the delay.” Starscream was trying his oh so innocent tone on the mechs who hadn’t given a single slag back at the Titan; but hey, maybe it’d work this time. He quickly ducked inside the door, and only the bug followed him. He supposed the Prime was breaking away to meet up with Megatron and that Dorothy human. To report Starscream's obvious insubordination no doubt.

He hated it here already.

Red lightning flickered between his wings, and the cracks running from his optics began to burn. When had those gotten there? He suddenly became very aware of how flammable this structure was.

“You know, I zapped myself with one of the chaos clouds once to beat Breakdown. How come I didn’t get some perma-buff? What, ‘cause I didn’t slap the whole artifact itself on my arm?” Bumblebee complained casually as he hovered his ped above a particular portion of the floor.

“Trust me, you don’t want this curse.” Starscream absentmindedly responded in a far away whisper.

“Riiiight. Well, get ready for the drop.”

“The wha– AAh!” The ground beneath his peds pulled apart in a smooth yet abrupt motion that tripped him off his peds and into the opening. Apparently that was what the bug had been up to. He stumbled down the stairs until he fell on his tailpipe with a metallic thunk, which made Bumblebee burst out laughing. Starscream’s wings flicked and his optics flickered red. “Don’t laugh at me! You did that on purpose, you slagging glitch!”

“Pff– I did warn you, fly boy. But, yeah. Mmmaybe a little bit.” The damn bug looked so smug as his doors fluttered with lingering amusement. “And make sure to watch your language ‘round the kids will ya? Already have to worry about human curse words as is.”

Starscream growled with a roll of his optics, “No promises,” and shakily stood to follow him down the short, newly visible hallway. It quickly opened up into an artificial cavern, which looked like a rudimentary undercity. Well, an extremely small one in comparison to Cybertron’s. And with far too many silly nicknacks strewn about with questionable use. Even so, at least he actually wasn’t going to be staying in the horrible shack above them. And the Terrans apparently did have their own stylized residence that wasn’t falling apart. Perhaps that is why they actually liked their humans. Although a reliance on the creatures would always prove precarious regardless.

“Here comes his highness.” Bumblebee announced flatly like it was some form of satire, as he entered in front of Starscream to join the others. There were so many of them. That dinobot brat, the avian beastformer, the three wheeler, Sprite’s twin, Hashtag, and those two blasted human twerps. They were all staring at him with varying levels of contempt or apprehension.

Starscream’s optics flitted across the crowd and hesitated far longer than he should have as his vocalizer betrayed him. “Uh, yes… right, hello.” That displayed too much anxiety, try again. He straightened his posture to exude more confidence and attempted a friendly smile that might have looked a bit more sinister than he intended. “I’m sure you all are absolutely ecstatic to be graced with my presence. So, what redemption inducing activity do we have on the agenda for today?” He couldn’t help but focus his gaze upon Hashtag, who looked too uncomfortably tense. Starscream approached the group carefully with one servo behind him, and acted as though he didn’t notice.

The human femme brat–it was Mo, he remembered–crossed her arms. “We’re just settling in right now.”

Her brother, Robb something, seemed to finish her thought as he stepped in front of her defensively. “Yeah. Hold your horses Decepticreep.”

Starscream looked down at him with a twinge of confusion and annoyance. What on Cybertron was a horse? And why in this context would he need to hold them? Regardless, he forcefully kept a smile on his faceplate as the others continued with their own comments.

The dinobot trotted up with a hunger in his optics that made Starscream inadvertently centihic away from him. “If he tries anything, I can bite ‘im! I’m good at that–”

Bee patted his head with a fond grin, “Cool your core there J.B., remember, a good scout needs to be patient.” Yes, conspire their bloodlust right in front of him why don’t they. Certainly feeling the love around here.

The three wheeler Trash–no, Thrash–stepped up beside the dinobot, “Optimus wants us to give you a chance, Starscream, but don’t think for a second that we’ll fall for any of your sweet talk or poor me con business.”

Starscream put a servo to his chassis in faux surprise at such an accusation. “I would never dream of doing such a thing! I agreed to y–our glorious leader’s generous offer, in a true aspiration towards change!”

“...Not just to get out of the brig?” Hashtag asked skeptically with a tipped servo.

Starscream’s optic twitched red for a split nano-klik. “Of course not! Our conversation really made me realize my wrong doings, my dear Hashtag.” When he tried to step closer to her, Spitfire’s red clone Twitch inserted herself between them.

“Give her space Starscream.” The little drone had a stern glare that reminded him of the scowl Sprite so often gave him in the Titan. “Whatever reason you wanna give us, you’ll have to prove it.” The rest of them nodded in agreement.

Except the beastformer–Nightshade was the designation, Starscream was nailing this–who interjected with an effort to diffuse the tension. They raised a servo and put it on Hashtag’s shoulder, while looking at Starscream with a strange…indifference, in their optics. “Come now siblings, let us engage in more friendly conversation. For instance, we can display the room we constructed for our new house guest!” They broke away to begin walking toward a corner extending from one of the structures.

“A room, you say? How exciting.” Starscream’s vocalizer slipped a twinge of sarcasm, although he could admit he did harbor some surprise at the idea. They were providing him with his own whole in the wall where he could potentially keep things from them in? Why would they trust such a thing? There was certainly something sinister lurking within this ruse of hospitality.

He began to follow them, with Bumblebee doing the same, while the others lingered a bit further behind. Whispers prodded at Starscream’s audials, but those were of no use to him. Let them scheme or complain all they want. He was used to bots talking behind his back.

“I do hope you like it.” Nightshade said earnestly as they gestured a servo in an invitation for Starscream to enter, while they stood to the side. “I did not have as much reference in terms of personability as I did my siblings. So, the decor is primarily influenced by us having a bit of fun with it, admittedly.”

The door was actually constructed perfectly for Starscream’s height. He hesitantly took a step inside with a servo gripping the doorframe, in case a forcefield decided to shut him in immediately. There was a berth fixed against the corner wall, with a couple odd panels that could be distinguished across it. One even seemed like there was an attempt at hiding it with the odd array of colorful, plush squares littering the berth. The walls were painted in accordance with Starscream's own colors, although tainted by a horrendous assortment of human transformers propaganda. Including one that was an offensive illustration of him plastered to a “hang in there” poster. The black ceiling speckled with glowing star decals, barely made up for it. Even if they weren’t arranged to resemble favorable constellations as one would expect from such an effort. The only attempt he could make out was a string lined in a way that vaguely resembled a valve wrench. Although the strangest addition was a human sized lamp that could resemble Bumblebee placed in a corner. Which was backdropped by a sign that read in bold letters: “No evil allowed” with an X’ed out Decepticon emblem. How subtle.

“So…what do you think?” Nightshade asked hopefully after a stint of silence.

“They didn’t rig the place to explode, the kids actually tried to put some thought into this thing. So how about maybe a thank you, or something?” Bumblebee had become far too close to Starscream’s wings, and was obviously gearing to shove him inside to make a point.

Starscream forced himself to release the doorframe from his hold to gain some distance from the looming mech, and made his way over to a different poster. The least disgusting of the bunch, which displayed three familiar seekers soaring through the sky with a burning city below. “Yes, well, it is certainly far more lively than my most recent arrangements.” A groveling thank you at such a ridiculous thing, seemed hardly appropriate. Still, he should probably sound more enthused than that to appease them. “And I appreciate that so much, my sweet little Terran friend!” He tipped his helm to the side with a grin aimed toward Nightshade and ignoring the bug. Then dropped it as soon as he turned away from them again, although still made certain to control his tone. “I see you all have quite the humor about you.” He commented in a vague gesture towards one of the more absurd posters displaying a Decepticon defeat. They’d obviously gone for some acute air of irony in their approach.

“Ah yes, the others did enjoy adding a couple playful jabs, as one could say, when it came to the posters.” Nightshade shrugged with a grin at the memory. “The stars were my idea. Do you like them? I simply assumed, with star being in your name and all, that it might be something that could appeal to you.”

Starscream could simply say that he did, with some exuberant air of elation. It wouldn’t be a complete lie, after all, the stars were indeed the room’s best feature. Yet his curiosity got the better of him as he hesitated, glancing back at them discreetly. “Why do you care whether I like it?” The whole thing was rather excessive despite their clear disdain for his presence. Why had they bothered?

“I want to make certain that I did a satisfactory job in making you feel welcome.” Nightshade fiddled with their servo’s anxiously. “This is a rather… odd situation we have come upon. I wish it to go well.”

“That so?” Starscream brought his servos behind him, turning to fully face the Terran again with a smile. “I assure you, your addition trumps all others! Well, except perhaps that poster displaying Megatron getting blasted across a ravine.” As he gestured to it, Starscream threw his ped backward to knock the Bumblebee lamp to the floor with a satisfying clunk. “That is certainly my type of humor.” He succeeded in distracting the Terran from his petty action, yet not the bug, who glared at him from the sideline. Good. He flashed him a sparring glance and a smirk before smoothly shifting attention back to Nightshade, approaching the door again to make his exit. “You and your siblings did a wonderful job, Nightshade.”

The Terran lit up at the praise and clapped their servos together. “I am glad! Perhaps as we all get better acquainted in the effort at becoming allies, we can add upon it with your own input! I promise to not take offense to any changes you wish to make.”

Starscream came up beside the Terran, then began to trace the perimeter of the cavern as he was followed. The other children seemed to have taken to their own perches while still keeping watch of his movements. Did they really have nothing else explicitly planned? The loosely structured nature laid before him made Starscream uneasy.

“You seem more hopeful than the others.” He began while entertaining his optics with every little detail of his surroundings. “Does… Hashtag share such a sentiment?” Her focus seemed to only be hard locked with whatever was on her datapad. Perhaps it was foolish of him to yearn for some sort of connection with the kid now. She too did think him worse than Megatron, after all…

“Yes. I believe she does.” Nightshade responded decisively with a nod. “Although if I were to disclose further, I fear it would cross a line of privacy for her feelings on the matter.”

“You can’t expect her to be jumping with joy right after you blatantly threatened her back at the brig.” Bumblebee added snarkily as he continued to be a diligent little shadow. “Get a grip on reality, why don’tcha.”

As if Starscream wasn’t already quite aware. As if he didn’t remember. As if the damned bug thought he was stupid. Why did these bots keep acting as though he couldn’t understand the situation they’ve thrusted upon him? Did they really think so low of his competency? Starscream had a perfect grip on reality! His processor never deleted things without his knowledge. Or bent his perception in any way. He knew exactly what was happening–

Starscream in-vented sharply as the crimson lightning sent a surge through his frame that shot pain through his spark, and stopped him in his tracks. He felt a sudden urge to purge his tank–which had apparently obtained a higher energon level at some point–as the cracks from his optics burned. Why had it flared up so much?! Nightshade had given him a positive response hadn’t they? Frag the bug, he needed to focus on what the kid said. Which was…?

That, maybe, Hashtag didn’t hate him after all. Right? That was good.

But he still couldn’t move.

Quintus’ curse was intent on imbueding him with an intense desire to strangle that Autobrat until his smartaft voice box broke. Or whip around and snap at him with a verbal assault that would no doubt lead to a larger altercation. But he knew he couldn’t. Even as it was increasingly difficult to discern the difference between the curse’s power over his processor, or if it actually was what he wanted to do.

When the bug decided to kneel down in some attempt at gaining his attention, Starscream couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he was too close. “DON’T TOUCH ME!” Starscream threw his servo at Bumblebee, which the lightning empowered to send them both stumbling backwards. Starscream gripped his helm and furiously struggled to will the blasted power to stop shaking every centihic of his frame, and force it back into whatever crevice it’d made for itself. “J-Just–GIVE me a nano-klik to– AUGH COME ON!” He needed control. If he couldn’t even trust his own frame to work with him–

“Dude, Starscream, buddy, you need to chill– just sit down and uh…take deep breaths or something?” Bumblebee sounded as though he were trying to help, but all he seemed to be able to do was state the obvious.

“Don’t you think I’m trying, you slagging fool!? This is your fault! I am NOT delusional, or crazy, or any of those things you idiots want to think!” Starscream growled while throwing his servos around wildly in his sudden burst of anger. The others were coming upon them after having sprung to their peds at his outburst. For once, a large crowd of optics on him was the last thing he wanted. This was bad. If Megatron wasn’t going to be sent to blast him into next week, he certainly was now. They’d stick him with that needle again. He needed to get this blasted power under control. But it just kept cycling in on itself. He felt tired. Yet overcharged all at once.

Bumblebee put his servos up in some form of surrender but his vocalizer betrayed his own frustration, “How is it my fault??”

“Let me try!” It was Hashtag. “Okay, there’s a 5 point countdown grounding thing I found.” She knelt down a couple hics away as she held up her servos. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Starscream stared at her with confusion addled with frustration as his optics flickered, but managed to answer, “...Six.”

“What color’s my paint?”

“Violet.”

“What about yours?”

“Red…blue, yellow–” This seemed stupid.

“Good. How about four things you can feel right now?”

The burning in his spark was slowly beginning to subside. Starscream intentionally scraped his servo down his faceplate to distinctly connect the sensation in his processor. He couldn’t name those things, could he? Not the lingering pain in his patched wing. Or the crick in his knee joint. Those things would surely elicit an awkward reaction.

After his silence, Hashtag continued on with her strange strategy. “What about three things you can hear? Like my voice right now.”

“I suppose…Bumblebee's incessant tapping of his ped. Or perhaps the fact that those lights over there are emitting a ridiculous affront to music.”

Hashtag laughed at his apparent audacity, “Hey, that’s our LED stereo and that music is awesome! I think you could grow to appreciate the glory that is Hatsune Miku. She’s kinda like us! I mean, in a way…”

“What is the point of this…?” Starscream’s wings clicked back into their neutral position as the last traces of lightning retreated from them, and he straightened his posture.

“Well, he stopped tweaking out, so I guess it worked.” Thrash noted with an air of surprise, “Nice work sis.”

Hashtag grinned with a bit of pride as she put her servos on her hips, and kept her focus on Starscream. “To get ya out of your head! See? You don’t have that weird red junk all over you anymore.”

Starscream blinked and realized that he did in fact feel far calmer than he had just moments before. He looked down at his servo and tested the workings of his now only slightly shaking digits. “Hm…” He hummed with the intent of adding something further, but became transfixed with the strangeness of the whole interaction. Thus only continued to blankly stare at his servo, for a long, arduous stint of silence before he found the words. “Thank you. I will keep that in mind.”

“No problem.” Hashtag had a rather sorrowful look in her optics as she brought her servos up to hug her frame again. What was that about?

Starscream narrowed his optics at the group. “Don’t tell Megatron about this.” He phrased it as a stern warning, despite knowing his inability to make threats at the moment.

“Still afraid of ol’ Megs there Screamer?” Bumblebee had a quirk of amusement on his faceplate, even as there was that odd, pitying expression lingering behind it as he crossed his arms.

Starscream scoffed, but moved on. Any topic but that. He could deal with it at a time that decidedly wasn’t now. “What is this Miku you speak of Hashtag? Perhaps you could attempt to convince me.”

Hashtag’s attention perked and she bounced in place, “Oh that is SUCH the rabbit hole–” She whipped out her datapad and ushered him to follow her to some sort of seating area. “Get ready to be absolutely dazzled by the sickest lore and the most bangin’ of bops!”

Starscream followed and sat by her side as the crowd began to find their own places again. “That could be questionable, but I suppose that is what you will be attempting to convert me into believing.” He grinned at her in a way that encouraged a challenge. “Try me.”

After a surprisingly long and passionate presentation; he couldn’t say that he was wholly convinced of why this Hatsune Miku character deserved to be on such a pedestal with millions of mindless followers. Although he could admit that some of the messages were rather intriguing. And some of the music, not half bad. He might even consider a servoful of them borderline good. Particularly that “Rolling Girl” one.

Perhaps between Hashtag and that Nightshade Terran, Starscream might actually be able to stay sane in the Autobot’s newest prison. At least there was some semblance of room to move. At least he wouldn’t be alone.

He could focus on the rest later.

Chapter Text

Starscream had found himself upon the floor in the odd room the Malto’s put together. He wasn’t about to trust that questionable berth. Splayed out with his wings against the cool stone, where no hidden restraints could pop out at him, was preferable. He’d made sure to check.

Starscream had just spent the last groon or so picking apart every centihic of the place, in fact. No cameras in the posters, or that ugly lamp. Nothing amiss with the storage underneath the berth. The pillows as they’d been called still looked suspicious, but he hadn’t been able to prove how yet. The doorframe definitely harbored a means to seal him inside at their leisure, he just needed to make certain not to aggravate them to such a point. Prove that he could stay put voluntarily.

Starscream stared up at the fake little stars in thought. Could those possibly conceal turrets like those implemented by G.H.O.S.T.? They were rather small, but so were the humans, and their weaponry. He had tested one, and it seemed innocent enough, but that did not speak for all of them. The bots, nor the Malto’s, would trust leaving him alone in their little bunker without some insurance. They had to have some form of security. Even if it did only look like a ridiculous clubhouse for sparklings.

His wing twitched as he felt the distinct vibrations of pedsteps through the floor. That was far more trustworthy than his audials which seemed to be constantly glitchy as of late. But whose were they? As they rhythmically made their way towards him, he calculated the pace of the stride with the weight. It was Bumblebee.

“Why are you on the floor?” The bug gestured a servo to him with an air of judgment.

Starscream remained silent for a moment as he glanced over at the mech, “What do you want?”

Bumblebee’s optical lids and doors dropped in annoyance, then he straightened with a slight roll of his helm. “Weeell, we had our time to get situated. So now, I thought–since the kids are either occupied with school or going out to find new cave springs–I could get you started on your good guy training! As I’m sure the Terrans could tell you, I’m a great teacher. And I put together a lecture on the dos and don’t of not being a garbage person!”

“Lucky me.” Starscream said sarcastically with a toss of his servo which promptly flopped back down with a thunk. Did he really have to listen to this scout?

Bumblebee groaned and stepped closer to stand over the seeker with his servos on his hips. “So get up! I’m not rolling my whiteboard in here for you.”

Starscream glared at him before pushing himself onto his peds with his own little noise of complaint. Allowing himself to be commanded by this bug was insulting. Yet there seemed no avoiding it given the circumstances, and at least it was something to do.

“Thank you.” The bug stated flatly as he turned to lead the way toward whatever annoying presentation he had planned.

A crate was pulled out in front of the aptly named “whiteboard”, which the bug told Starscream to take his seat in. One side of the board was labeled “pillars of being a good person”; Empathy, Consideration, Accountability, Prudence, Temperance, Justice, Fortitude. The rest was split into two sections detailing the aforementioned “dos and don’ts” in green versus red marker.

Do: be kind, be patient, be understanding, be selfless, be compassionate, be respectful, be honest, be loyal, be helpful.

Don’t: be rude, be selfish, be aggressive, be greedy, be spiteful, be insensitive, plot against your friends, want world domination, steal, be controlling, hit people, ignore people, manipulate people.

Those seemed rather personal, ridiculous, and quite debatable.

Bumblebee had retrieved a stick to point with, and tapped it on the red side. “First, we’ll go over what you shouldn’t do. For instance, you were rather rude a minute ago–”

“How?”

“Wha–what do you mean how?? You were giving me all this sass for no reason, didn’t answer my first question, and acted like a disgruntled teenager!” The bug counted on his digits.

Starscream crossed his arms. “That’s an exaggeration. And what makes you believe you are even worth my respect?” Bumblebee looked just about ready to explode, but Starscream smirked with the thought that if the scout did decide to start a fight, he could point to the stupid little board that admonished hitting people.

“DUDE! I’m the bot that was trusted to watch over you! Do you know how much I did in the war? I definitely kicked your tailpipe more than once!” The scout pointed the stick at starscream angrily before slumping backwards dramatically. “Ugh…just- regardless, being respectful to people isn’t something you should think they need to earn.”

Starscream laughed, “That’s cute. So you say that you really did just throw the Prime on your pedestal out of nothing but sheer reverence? He did nothing to prove his position worth your confidence?”

“No! Optimus is an awesome leader, and ticks literally every box on the Do list! He’s done thousands of things to express why he’s a Prime–”

“What about Megatron?”

“He–...Megatron proved his conviction to us when he changed sides, and continues to prove it.” The bug had begun to avert his gaze. “He’s changed for the sake of our people. Optimus believes in him, so I do too. You still have a way to go to get to that point.”

“Ah, so all I have to do is betray everything I’ve stood by for practically my entire functioning, and destroy the Allspark–for you to think me worthy of your respect? Hah! Does that not go against your standard of loyalty? Megatron didn’t do scrap for our people. And that Prime is hardly a saint.”

Bumblebee ex-vented as he rubbed his optics. “…Let's just move on. Trust is the thing that needs to be earned. Shown by actions. Like not being a power hungry crazy person, or plotting world domination, or betraying your friends for your own selfish goals–” The bug abruptly stopped with a cringed expression before continuing– “Uh, yeah, so you should work on y’know, thinking about others and stuff.”

Starscream suddenly noticed his optics glitch and he shook his helm. Right. That was why the bug hesitated. Was Bumblebee actually afraid of him, after all that talk? He should be. A dozen morbid thoughts flashed through Starscream’s processor. The bug had some nerve acting as if he were so perfect.

The lightning flickered through his wings in a subtle warning, “Oh yes. Think about others, hm? What do you think I’ve been trying to do? Ah, right. I am the power crazy lunatic who wants to rule the world, purely for my own pleasure.” Starscream growled dangerously as he put a servo to his chassis before tossing it aside. “Can you honestly blame me for finding myself the only trustworthy candidate for the role? Or aspiring for something better than these pitiful state of affairs? Any friends I may have had, are dead, or betrayed me first. You know nothing, bug.”

Bumblebee scrutinized him with his optics as he actually seemed to be thinking about his next words. “Maybe not…” He tested the stick in his servos. “You’re not exactly the most easy to read mech, Starscream. But even if you really want to think you’re the hero somehow in that twisted processor of yours, we’re gonna have to get this stuff down.” He tapped the board, then added mockingly, “You came here with pure intentions of being redeemed, didn’t you?”

Starscream’s wing twitched, then he crossed his stabilizing servos and poised his posture. “Of course.”

“So how about you actually listen to your teacher for a second, ‘kay? Cool. Great.” The scout brought his stick to point at the first word in his list of pillars. “Empathy. The ability to relate to others on both an emotional and intellectual level. It’s like when you see someone get hurt, and you feel it too, and therefore–should be inclined to help them! It's all about that connection and understanding, that then leads us into Consideration. Which is being mindful of others’ feelings. You need to be empathetic towards someone who's in danger or struggling, and considerate of how your actions affect those around you. So, imagine I’m your partner on a mission, and I don't know, a building collapsed on me or something. You could either leave me there and run away to save your own plating, or pull me out of the rubble to safety. What do you do?”

Starscream’s processor blanked with an echo of static. There were too many variables that would need to be considered in that hypothetical. There wasn’t enough information. Even so, obviously he wouldn’t save an Autobot, that’d be foolish. Rescue the enemy on some naive basis of…empathy? A mech should be able to take care of themself. It would probably be the bug's own fault if he found himself in such a situation. Then who was Starscream to take his opportunity to prove himself capable of fixing his mistake? Saving useless mechs who can’t keep themselves online, would only lead to getting himself killed needlessly. Then how would that be helpful?

He could probably discern what response the scout wanted, but instead a different question escaped his intake. “Would you save a Decepticon in such a scenario?” The rampant hypocrisy amongst the bots irked him.

“Well–” Bumblebee shifted as he hesitated to confess the obvious answer– “Look, I’m not talking about war, I’m talking about just in general. It doesn’t have to be me that you envision, it could be basically anyone. That's supposed to be the point.”

“If it is merely anyone, then why should I care?”

The scout ran a servo down his faceplate, “Fine. What if it was uh…Skywarp?”

Skywarp’s mangled frame, caught crushed between splintered shards of a once mighty structure, shattered by the Autobots. Skywarp leaking energon with only their helm and a servo free from their predicament. Barely conscious as they called out for Thundercracker in the carnage, who they’d never see again. Skywarp, being painfully quiet for a rare moment in their functioning, before screaming at Starscream for not looking for their brother harder.

A clapping of servos faded in from a chaotic symphony of explosions and voices, into what they were. Bumblebee was trying to get his attention.

“Hey! Hey, where’d you go man? You good?” The scout was next to him and centihics away from prodding him with that stupid stick.

Starscream smacked it away and snapped, “I’m fine. Of course I got Skywarp out–a lot of thanks that got me!” His optics flashed red as the memory of Megatron’s fusion cannon sending him crumpled down against the wall, while Skywarp watched, glitched in his processor.

“Helping people isn’t about getting praised for it!” The bug snipped back as he grumpily retrieved his lost stick. “It’s about doing the right thing, and showing that you care about the people around you… You don’t regret helping them, right?” When Starscream couldn’t respond, Bumblebee continued. “...How about we go to the next topic?”

Starscream stared blankly. He didn’t care. He didn’t have a choice. This was stupid.

“Right…” The scout began awkwardly as he slowly raised his stick to point at the board again. “The next one is… Accountability. Taking responsibility for your actions. Which plays on the Consideration one, because as you consider others’ feelings, you can take yourself accountable when you hurt someone. Like how what you did hit Hashtag pretty hard, and you can take responsibility by acknowledging that. As well as y’know, try to make it up to her. Meg–uh…Oh Primus what’s a better example…? Let’s just focus on the point that to be a good person, you need to recognize when you mess up, and then do something constructive about it.”

Starscream was hardly listening. This whole thing was just a huge guilt trip. Set for the scout to shame him for what a horrible person he was.

The bug just kept talking.

“Prudence is the act of being reflective, and objective when you’re making decisions. The reflective bit ties with the Accountability one in that it’s about you being aware of the effects of your actions, and that requires looking back on them and deciding what could be improved. The objective part is about not letting your biases, or anger, affect your decisions. Whiiiich goes into Temperance, that means controlling your passion in a way that doesn’t allow yourself to lash out at others. Like how you were getting a bit feisty earlier and snapping at everyone’s favorite teacher!” Bumblebee straightened a bit before pointing the stick at Starscream in some feeble attempt at scolding him. “Not cool. But, I know that might have been a bit fast, so how about another hypothetical! Let’s say, you accidentally broke the kid’s speaker because you hated the music or something. What do you do when they find out, or even before?”

“Plant the evidence where it could incriminate someone else.” Starscream responded immediately without much thought.

The bug’s faceplate scrunched. “No…You’re–you’re supposed to take accountability. Tell them you did it, say you’re sorry, and either repair it or get them a new one.”

“Why put such a stain on your record–or risk them not accepting your peace offering–when you could simply frame someone else and let it be their problem? Openly admitting fault seldom gets you in anyone’s good graces.” Starscream rolled his optics at the absurdity.

“First, back to the empathy thing, you shouldn’t pawn your problems onto other people. If you are worried about the consequences, then you shouldn’t want to inflict it on someone else. Second, it’s again, not about getting on people’s good sides or praise or anything like that.”

“What is it then? Is it so you can congratulate yourself on how oh so virtuous you are for DoInG tHe RiGhT tHiNg, after they break your servo? It is either them or me. I do not apologize for being a bit selfish on the matter. Your morals are moronic.”

Bumblebee put his servos together and brought them to his faceplate, then pointed his digits down. “...What about breaking a speaker is some life or death situation?” He let his servos fall. “Dude. No one’s going to do that over a little mistake.”

Starscream stared at him with a raised optical ridge skeptically. That statement was extremely doubtful. Mistakes could be deadly, no matter how insignificant. Even if such a thing may not seem like it would warrant such a response, it never stopped Megatron when he was in a mood. The bug could say that now, but he could not promise that for anyone in the future. Even himself.

The bug got a rather odd expression at his silence. “No one here is ever going to do that. We talk things out. That is how we deal with things in this team. We practice the Temperance and Prudence rules! Keeping our anger in check to manage our decisions in non-violent ways! With the exception of a bit of rough-housing–They might still be mad, but they would appreciate honesty. Your way would just make things worse, not better. Especially if they found out anyway. No one can be perfect, but you still gotta put forth that effort.”

Starscream rested his faceplate on his propped servo with bored optics, “Sure.”

“I’m serious.” The bug put a servo on his hip, “As long as you try, that still counts for something. And we help each other. I’m still a bit guilty of having those occasional moments where I’ve made more reckless decisions. It happens.” He shrugged, “You really just have to make sure to avoid those big ones.”

Avoid the big ones? What scale were these bots weighing their decisions upon? How was Starscream supposed to know what was large or small in their optics? Instances that he felt could be disregarded after proper punishment, seemed to linger for them. Destroying that device in the hypothetical, was apparently a low level offense, but that hardly grazed the range of circumstance. He didn’t have vorns to navigate this place.

Starscream was glaring hard at basically nothing. This redemption angle of this ordeal was going to prove precarious… He didn’t understand why his way was wrong. It had always been how things worked, as far as he could remember. Perhaps… not with Skyfire, but he was different. They had been partners, equals. The power scales here were hardly clear.

The bug had been talking again.

“–guess fairness can be subjective sometimes. I’m sure you're thinking about some backhanded rebuttal already.” Bumblebee actually looked a bit disappointed when Starscream said nothing, and continued with his doors tipping downward. “...But the Justice pillar also ties in with our last one to wrap up today’s lesson, Fortitude. Which is the courage to stand up for what you believe in. To step in when you see something you know is wrong. Basically the complete opposite of the bystander effect! For instance, if you saw someone you care about being held accountable for something that wasn’t their fault–you’d come to their defense.”

Starscream thought of his trinemates again. “It is not so simple.”

“Well…for you, maybe not. But! If you keep these pillars in mind, and really try and implement them, it could get easier right? Practice?” Bumblebee’s vocalizer squeaked with his grin that was full of doubt. “Maybe?”

Starscream studied him for a moment. The bug had seemed to put in a significant amount of effort. As well as being perhaps a bit more self-aware than he thought, for a moment. The scout was certainly odd, but…he meant well. Something could be appreciated about that. Occasionally.

Then, Starscream stood from the crate and turned to make his way back to his sparkly little quarters. He was still tired, and the assault on his audials he’d just endured did nothing for the ache in his processor. There were decidedly far too many things to think about.

Bumblebee was silent for a moment before calling out to him, “Okay yeah, good talk! I’ll get back to you on the practice exercises, so we can take a break for now!”

Starscream put a servo up in acknowledgement before slipping into solitary. The idea of getting the last word was appealing, but he didn’t have the energy. Despite the fact that the small room wasn’t entirely comforting, it would at least be a reprieve from regulating every other mech around him every Primus damned nano-klik.

Starscream stood there in the middle of the room a moment, as his optics drifted to one particular poster. The seekers soaring into the skies, away from a burning city. He approached it. Stared it down with vacant optics and tense servos.

Then ripped apart every scrap of those wretched structures. Until only the sky and his seekers remained.

A foolish dream, really.

Chapter Text

The “Malto Family Game Night”. An intriguing premise. One Bumblebee thought he should drag Starscream into, it seemed, despite the title clearly only set to invite those who are real members of their collective. It even seemed a stretch that the humans and Terrans considered Bumblebee an “honorary” member to begin with. The Terrans, as Earthen cybernetic children, theoretically shared some level of kinship with humans to an extent. As well as apparently being bonded to them on a deeper level. But both he and Bumblebee had no such connection, why should they be roped into human nonsense?

Why would they allow them to encroach on their little tradition? Perhaps this was some sort of test pertaining to the practice the bug had wanted Starscream to get, after his little lecture. A challenge to see how well Starscream could interact with them.

Well, for whatever goal the bug had, he certainly could stand a bit of competition. A chance to destroy them at their own ridiculous games? Irresistible. The anticipation of victory, especially one he could lord over the scout later, might just make the growing chaos around him bearable.

There were too many conversations about too many things being discussed in one room. He’d tried to track a few, but quickly found his audials begin to mute the chatter with a light ringing. If it hadn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from calling them all into order himself.

Finally, Hashtag got everyone’s attention and pointed to the whiteboard that now held doodles of all their faceplates, separated into groups. “Alright fam! The teams we’ve decided on are: Me, J.B, and Nightshade with our name NightTagBreaker! Mom and Dad as Purple. Thrash and Mo as Mash–”

“‘Cause we’re gonna MASH the competition!” Thrash cheered as he smacked servos with his human partner.

Hashtag didn’t even seem fazed by the interruption, and scoffed without a hint of disdain. “We’ll see about that! There’s also Robbie and Twitch–”

“Their team’s name is Twobbie.” Mo said with the most dastardly smirk toward her brother, and a mocking tone to the name.

Robbie and Twitch both stood with crossed arms, the human retorting first with an air of superiority. “Uh no. Our name is Twin Blades!”

Twitch plucked her swords from her back and twirled them as an example with a proud grin. “We’ve got the blades, and we’re basically twins. And way cooler than Mash.”

Thrash gasped melodramatically with a servo to his chassis, “How dare you!”

“We’ll see who has the cooler name when we beat you!” Mo shot back with a throw of a digit in their direction. Threats so early in the competition? Bold.

Hashtag edited the name on the board discreetly, then turned to ask, “What’d you guys decide on for your name Bee? I was thinking it could be StarBee or Beam for the combo style like ours–” She gestured to her two partners– “Or BugBird, because y’know, Bee is bug coded and Starscream can fly. OR you could be Primary! Because together you have yellow, red, and blue!”

Starscream took his servo from under his faceplate to tip it at the crowd, straightening his posture with a slight tilt of his helm as he offered confidently, “Why not simply call us The Victors?” He wasn’t exactly thrilled that they had just decided that he was paired with the bug, but that wouldn’t change his plans of total domination over this strange event.

Many of them rolled their optics at Starscream’s proclamation, but Hashtag actually had to stop herself from laughing. Not entirely the correct response. Still, at least she was amused, rather than angered by his insinuation.

Bumblebee shook his helm in a way that Starscream couldn’t tell if he actually disapproved or not. “StarBee is fine, Hashtag.” He determined, then mumbled, “Even if it would be nice if my name was first…”

“Well, you always were more of just the backup, rather than a leader, scout.” Starscream pointed out haughtily. “Obviously my piece of the title would come first.”

Bumblebee glared at him, “I am not your backup! We’re partners and this is friendly competition! And please try to remember what I was telling you yesterday…” He sounded exasperated.

Starscream dropped his smirk and crossed his arms to align himself with a more professional posture. “Are you going to disclose the rubric, or will your little test be void of any comprehensible scale like all of your Autobot riddles?”

Bumblebee was about to respond, but the Malto matriarch, Dorothy, interrupted. “No tests. We are not making game night about work again. Right Bee?” The bug nodded, looking rather guilty. “We’re here to have fun.”

“Yeah!” Twitch flew up to meet Starscream’s faceplate, “So don’t you ruin it! Family time is sacred!”

Starscream leaned slightly toward her, thoroughly unamused. “Yes, how dare I encroach on your ridiculous expression of familial bonding.”

“Okay guys!” Hashtag interjected, “This isn’t exactly supposed to be the mood of this scene. Can we rein it in please?” She looked more at Starscream than her sibling, with a pleading look to her optics. Twitch backed down, as did he.

“Wonderful!” Nightshade collected a set of cards that seemed to be sized for Cybertronians. “The first game Hashtag and I decided upon from the list of requests, is Uno! Three teams will be in one group, and two in another.”

“Then we shuffle it until every team has had a chance to go against each other!” Hashtag added while shuffling the cards and splitting the deck into two stacks. “First group will be NightTagBreaker, Twin Blades, and Mash; then Purple and StarBee.”

“Would it not make more sense to put the team of three into the group with just two teams?” Starscream asked not as much for some level of fairness, but more in the hopes that he could avoid interacting with Megatron’s little spy. He’d much rather attempt their card game with Hashtag and Nightshade.

“I mean, maybe, but we’ll get there eventually.” Hashtag gave him an awkward smile, then quickly moved on. Scrap.

They all took to their tables and dealt the cards. Starscream attempted to read the rules from the little box that was cast aside, but Dorothy’s human conjunx told him that it was apparently quite simple. Same color, same number or action, and you could play your card on your turn. The wild card and plus four were clearly above all the other pathetic actions in the roster. Although the skip option was satisfyingly petty. Starscream managed to skip Bumblebee three times in a row, in fact, which he found hilarious.

The bug however, was less amused, “We’re supposed to be on the same team! Could you maybe not sabotage me and actually try and collaborate?!”

“Only one of us needs to win to get the credit. I don’t need your help to claim victory over these humans at this silly game.”

“I don’t know about that.” Dorothy tauntingly raised her singular card. “Uno.”

“WHAT?” Starscream’s wings flared and he looked over at the bug’s absurdly large set of cards, then slammed a servo on the table to get his attention. “Unleash a counterattack you fool! You must have something in that embarrassing stack in your servos!”

“Oh look who came crawling back for my help.” The scout hoarded his cards with juvenile snark.

Starscream stuttered and his optic twitched as he growled through gritted dentas. “Excuse me, but if you don’t we both lose you bit-brained idiot!”

“How about not calling your partner names, and actually asking nicely? Or just working with me instead of acting like I’m still your enemy?”

The bug was a stubborn fool. Ask nicely? Did they expect him to phrase orders as optionary as the Prime did? That’s ridiculous! And of course the bug was still his enemy! How stupid was this mech? Bumblebee had been the first to point a blaster at Starscream in the Titan. Just because the Autobots were acting as if something had changed, didn’t mean anything. This was all just another assignment for the scout.

Wait…who said that Starscream couldn’t simply take the bug’s cards and do it himself? If they were on the same team, then what did it matter who carried out the move? He didn’t know what stupid arrangement of words they wanted from him. It’d be far easier to–

Starscream forcefully snatched the cards from Bumblebee’s servos in a crimson flash, and slapped down a plus two to destroy the Malto’s hope of victory. He made sure to keep his own remaining two cards safe from getting lost amidst his stolen pile. The bug complained and tossed his servos around before attempting to steal his cards back, as Starscream pushed against his faceplate to hold him off.

Then, Dorothy cleared her throat before crossing her arms. “I win.”

“Wha–HOW?!” Starscream shoved the bug aside before pointing a digit at the human. “You lost your turn and were supposed to gain additional cards as the action dictates! You couldn't have possibly won!”

Her optical ridge rose and she tapped the card plainly placed upon the one he’d taken from Bumblebee. “My last card was a plus two, and I can stack it on yours. Maybe, you should have actually talked it out with your partner.”

Oh, so this fleshling aimed to lecture him now? And since when could actions be placed upon one another as a means of canceling the other out? That made no sense with the rest of the rules! Sure, if you were not at the receiving end and were simply the player that is being skipped towards–but mid-action?? That was ridiculous, she made that up!

Lightning flickered between his wings. He didn’t lose. She’d only crafted some absurd reason to disguise the fact that she was clearly only attempting to prove some point, and make Starscream look like an idiot. That’s what it was. But he couldn’t do anything about it. The human was Megatron’s little agent. Starscream would be scrapped if he did anything against her.

Starscream’s optics were burning as he wished again that he could set those blasted cards ablaze with only his processor. This game was just another tool for them to mock him. His vents were the same.

“Chill, it’s not like losing one game is the end of the world. Even if I am definitely blaming this loss, on you. I was just the card draw scrapyard–” Bumblebee was attempting to retrieve the scattered cards, and Starscream reflexively grabbed his wrist and pulled the scout up as he rose to his peds.

“This IS your fault!” Starscream said dangerously, even as the scout transformed out his blaster with his other servo. But as a deafening silence strangled the cavern, and Starscream stared into the bug's startled yet defiant optics…he hated it. He was doing it again.

His anger attempted to subside, replaced by something else as his grip loosened on the bug. But the curse didn’t seem to approve of that, and it instead tried to channel its power into the servo which mistakenly held Bumblebee. Starscream’s optics widened and he wrenched his servo away. Then yelped as he found Wheeljack’s little device had sent an equal pulse up his ped in some pathetic counterattack to the power. Instead of neutralizing the surge at his servo, all it did was make him fly back clumsily, and hit his helm on the ground. All while the power still felt as if his arm was being ripped apart by scraplets.

“Uh, you guys okay over there??” Twitch called from their own game.

“Ugh…Peachy.” Bumblebee commented dryly as he picked himself up after having apparently fallen back as well. “Someone is just a sore loser.”

Starscream only sat up to grip his violently shaking servo as he glared at it. He wasn’t like Megatron. “Perhaps…It was an overreaction.” He couldn’t apologize. He was too distracted. But he could acknowledge the bug’s point. Maybe that would be enough.

Bumblebee watched him a moment before a ridiculous grin came to his faceplate. “No kidding.”

The scout offered Starscream a servo, and he stared at it hesitantly as the lightning slowly died from his frame. He didn’t smack it away, but he didn’t take it either. Instead, he forced his annoyingly numb right ped to cooperate as he pulled himself up. “Besides, with the human’s knack for simply realigning the rules to her whim, how could either of us be at fault? Megatron clearly taught her well.”

“Excuse me?” Dorothy put her servos on her hips. Apparently his comment was somehow offensive. Even the buckethead’s agent detested being compared to him. How poetic.

Starscream paced to give himself enough distance from bot and human alike, before tipping a servo and his hip out in unbridled sass with an innocent vocalizer, “Oh but I’d never blame you for such a thing. In fact, I might have pulled such a stunt myself if we were more acquainted. Although that was a bit of a clumsy rule you constructed in your haste. Perhaps I could give you some advice for–”

Dorothy put her servo up to silence him. “No. I didn’t make it up. Well, not right at that moment–it’s just a common house rule for the game. It makes things a bit more interesting, and can lead to crazy close calls like that.”

“Yes we would never cheat! Especially Dottie!” Her conjunx attested with a protective servo around her shoulder, which she patted with hers. Disgusting.

Starscream’s faceplate scrunched at their show of affection, but willed himself to put on a smile. “I meant no disrespect, truly.” He gave her a half-afted bow, then began assisting the bug in collecting the cards that had fallen to the floor. “So I assume we shall be shuffling the groups now then?”

Not a moment later, there was an obnoxious uproar from the kids as the Twin Blades team celebrated their victory. They had their own argument about how it was achieved, yet it seemed more out of curiosity for their strategy. Of which they happily went into dramatized detail. They all laughed and congratulated them, with playful counters at how close it had been. No one was angry, or accusatory. The only touch they shared was gentle. Starscream stared at them, transfixed.

Sure, it was not as if he had always fought with his trinemates over such silly things. But still, there had typically been some sort of transition into a wrestling match to settle the true victor. Anything close to that here was meager at best. He wasn’t surprised…only, afflicted with a strange sense of yearning. Which was ridiculous.

“Sounds like it.” Bumblebee remarked as he placed the now reforged stack of cards on their table, then added teasingly, “Are you actually going to be my teammate this time, fly boy?”

“Yes, it seems that might be necessary.” Starscream avoided the bug’s optics as he took his seat again.

Team NightTagBreaker switched places with Purple. He didn’t quite care for the dinobot, but the other two terrans could be rather pleasant. Although it did seem that “J.B.” was far more focused on the game than attempting to bite his peds this time.

Starscream and Hashtag shared a glance, and he was the first to break the silence between them, “Do not expect us to go easy on you.” Mimicking her siblings’ manner of playful banter.

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” She responded with a theatrical tone and servo to her chassis.

“If anyone should be going easy, it is us!” Nightshade added, to which the dinobot seemed to finish the thought.

“Yeah! Because–we are three bots, and you are not.”

“Don’t think that numbers are everything kids.” Bumblebee warned as he fanned out his new selection of cards in his servos.

This time, Starscream collaborated with the bug as they discreetly disclosed which cards they possessed, and plotted how to best use them. He used his skips to instead protect his unlikely ally from unwanted card draw, until he could change the color again. As well as parrying reverses, or waiting until the other also had a plus two, as to avoid friendly fire. Perhaps that strange rule could be rather useful, when he actually knew to utilize it. Then, he also did not see why they could not stack other actions in such a way as well…

When the scout had called Uno, the dinobot attempted to skip him to postpone their victory. Unbeknownst to them, Bumblebee also had a skip card, but the bug did not place it down. A pause for dramatic effect?

Starscream cast aside his own useless cards and smacked the bug’s shoulder plating. “Reveal your card already you–eh, just what are you waiting for? We won. Cancel their action with yours!”

Bumblebee looked baffled as he stared at his card then back at Starscream. “What?? Jawbreaker skipped me, I can’t cancel that. It’s your turn. Why don’t you use that reverse card you had?”

Starscream’s wings pulled back and he ripped his cards back off the table to hit them with his other servo. “This scrap will do nothing to change it to the correct color! Why on Cybertron can you not just do as that human did before?! Countering an action of equal title mid-attack is perfectly legal in your stupid house rules! We’ve even done it multiple times this round, how is this any different?”

“Stacking only works with the plus two’s and four’s,” Nightshade attempted to explain their absurd standards, “It is not as if you can add onto one skip with another.”

“Uh-huh, you can’t do that Starscream, that’d be cheating.” J.B. insisted like a foolish child. “Right? Because, that’s definitely against the rules.”

Lightning jumped across Starscream’s frame again.

How was he the one cheating? Their “mom” had come up with it first! Noone had cared when she did it. How did it make any less sense to use the skip card in such a way than the other one? Of course the skips could be added onto one another! All they’d need to do is make it a double skip so that–if he and the scout didn’t already win–it’d send the next turn over to Hashtag. How was that concept so hard for them to understand? This game was stupid.

Bumblebee nudged him, “Hey, we haven’t lost yet!” Starscream didn’t look at him, nor say anything for a long stint of time. “C’moooon, what cards ya got huh?”

Starscream’s optics flickered red and he took in an extended vent, then hiked his wings up with a strained grin and peak to his vocalizer. “Fine, yes, of course! Let's look at what cards I have. Numbers and a single useless reverse action? That will surely lead us to victory. Especially, when as soon as I place something down, those three will no doubt begin a chain of plus two actions of which you would be defenseless against. Or a plus four. Or they could start a reverse chain between one another. Or lock us in a color neither of us have in a plot to instigate the idiotic notion of infinite card draw!”

“You don’t know what cards we have,” Hashtag seemed to be getting frustrated with him, “And besides, it’s just a game. If we outplay you, we win, it’s not that deep!”

“Well, Uno does contain a higher percentage of RNG than skill, but that is a fair point regardless.” Nightshade nodded.

“Um, so, can we just…finish the game now?” J.B asked meekly.

Starscream’s wings swiveled up and down as he forced the stupid power back into the corner of his spark. “Sure.” He could play nice for Hashtag’s sake.

The game proceeded just about as insufferably as he anticipated. He and the bug ended with far too many cards, and Nightshade claimed the win for their team. That was fine. He didn’t care.

Every other match of that accursed Uno left Starscream and Bumblebee once again so close, only for it to be ripped away time and time again. Every instance, more inane than the last. How could they have not even won once?! The last time was entirely the bug’s fault, when he’d blatantly ignored Starscream’s order. He made sure to tell the scout just how stupid that had been, but then the others only seemed to get mad at Starscream for it instead!

The next game that was chosen attempted to usurp the last in stupidity. The “tic-tac-toe” was near impossible to not end in a tie. It had to be replayed repetitively until a victor was concluded. It was boring, exceedingly plain, and the only viable strategy was far too easily thwarted. In fact, when Starscream was in the midst of cornering their opponent, they instead reversed it back onto him! Bumblebee had obviously ruined the whole thing with his insistence on starting in the middle when it was clearly best to start at a corner. Even when they finally did manage to succeed in one matchup, it was anticlimactic as slag.

The next was a quite straightforward game titled “Spot-it”. All that needed to be done was match an icon on your own card with the one in the discard. And finally, Starscream was able to dominate. Every single match, he rapidly pinpointed the correct image and practically blazed through his entire stack with only minute lapses in his speed. No one stood in his way! No one even got a chance! It was glorious!

Starscream laughed maniacally as he gained yet another point without the pathetic aid of the bug. “HAHAH you all are not even TRYING! This game is far too easy. Or perhaps you simply have a slow processor for such things, eh, Bumblebee?” He flicked the bug’s helm and fluttered his wings. Elated that he at long last obtained even a fleeting moment of triumph amongst them. “Good thing you have me to carry your constant lag.”

Bumblebee glared at him, then rolled his optics, “Riiiight. You’re taking this whole thing way too seriously.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Starscream stated in a more dismissive than questioning manner with a slight tip of his helm and a shrug. “What’s next then?”

“Pictionary!” Hashtag held up the box with far more excitement than she’d had previously. “Nightshade and I even made more little figurines and an extended board for all of us to play together!” She and her sibling began the setup, while J.B. distributed the items required for each team. “The person who draws whatever it is rotates, then the others on your team need to guess what the person is trying to show them! The color on the board determines what subject it is, and you kinda get a bit of a clue on what it is from that too.”

Simple enough, if the bug could draw a straight line. Starscream claimed the marker first, as he was far more confident in his own artistic ability. The first object he got was a “basketball”. He didn’t know what that was, but he did know how to depict a basket and a ball separately. Surely the scout could comprehend an icon based word puzzle as simple as that. Which he did. But the words only got stranger from there, and that is where their downfall began.

Items like “Taylor Swift”, “Swan”, or “Cell Phone”, were ridiculous. Was he supposed to have done research before this blasted thing? They had to redraw cards in an attempt to acquire a usable item multiple times. Yet even then, there were many moments where the bug had far too much confidence in his ability to depict whatever it was he’d gotten. His illustrative skill was predictively lacking, and he was lucky Starscream had been able to make out any of it at all. At the very least, Bumblebee was adequate at determining what Starscream was forced to illustrate.

The worst of it was when there had been the perfect opportunity to draw himself throwing Megatron into the Pit–for the action topic of course–and the blasted timer ran out before he could finish! Apparently there needed to be some sort of middle ground in which to prioritize what details were necessary. He could make sacrifices for the sake of their victory, sure, yet it was still disappointing. How was he to find any sort of satisfaction in this game, if he could not at the bare minimum depict the buckethead getting tossed into a scrapheap?

Although he would admit that this game certainly seemed the most balanced, those with their ridiculous bonds and understanding of one another, inevitably gained some sort of advantage. Which got annoying fast. Every little moment longer the scout took to guess what the item was, or the next incoherent blob he depicted, made the tapping of Starscream’s ped quicken.

Starscream growled and his wings flicked back, “NOW what is it?” He squinted as the crude image began to take some sort of shape. “The Autobots?” The bug shook his helm and gestured for it to be more general. “Cybertronians?” A gesture for him to elaborate. “What other word is there!?–” His optics flashed red, with a brief moment of his spark feeling as though it were being wrenched out of his intake, as the word came to him–“Transformers.” A disgustingly rudimentary title. Of course that was all that they were reduced to in this human game under the subject of pop culture.

He was correct. But he still felt distant from the bug’s excitement toward their apparent close call. Starscream hit a servo against his own helm in an effort to knock out whatever had possessed him. This reflex was evidently questionable, but he was easily able to brush it off. He couldn’t have his processor glitching in the midst of this event. It would not only be quite discomfiting, but would also bring more petty disruption to something the Terrans seemed to have put a great deal of effort into. He had to keep it under control.

By the end of it, he and the bug only managed to cross half of the spaces needed to win. Infuriating. Starscream despised losing. They weren’t even able to claim second best. Pathetic.

By the next game, Starscream was decidedly over it.

This “Charades” only served to make one dance around like a fool in some absurd hope at expressing the word on their slip of flimsy scrap. It was near identical to the concept of the last, but regressed into something far less tolerable. Perhaps it could be more amusing if it was less about imitating Earth creatures and instead aimed toward mimicking someone else in their group. That had been a favorite amongst his trinemates back in the more tolerable cycles amidst the Decepticons.

Bumblebee flapped his arms around stupidly as he attempted to display what he’d plucked from the pile. He looked utterly ridiculous. Starscream would never catch himself offline doing such a thing. What was the bug even supposed to be? He was acting as though he were attempting to fly, similar to how Nightshade seems to need to operate their alt mode. Clearly some form of Earthen avian, but how was he supposed to know which classification was required?

“Ugh,” Starscream rubbed his optics, “what do you call those tiny avian creatures on this planet?”

“Birds!” Twitch chirped in an oddly endearing manner.

“Right. That is what he is, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, basically.” Bumblebee halted mid motion to shrug, then whirled his arms around before finding his balance again. “Think we can count that one Alex?”

“Mmm…” Dorothy’s conjunx, Alex, squeaked his uncertainty at the notion. Obviously unsatisfied with such a vague answer.

Dorothy smacked his shoulder, although it looked like it barely connected. “I think we can give it to ‘em. Starscream hasn’t exactly gotten as acquainted with what all our little guys here are called yet.”

“I don’t need your pity points, human.” Starscream muttered in a visceral hiss. When would he have had the time to study such things? Why should he care what all these birds were labeled on this insufferable planet? He had far better things to do! Starscream had a million other exceedingly more important matters that required his brilliant processor, than reverting back to cataloging miscellaneous fauna on some backwater rock!

“Oh, I suppose it’s alright.” Alex relented, none the wiser to Starscream’s bitter comment. “Why don’t you try another one, Bee?”

Bumblebee chuckled as the timer ran out, “Sorry pal, but I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until next time to witness my famously flawless acting skills. How about you and Dot go next? Gotta show me your moves too!”

Starscream watched the rest of them play out what remained of the game with blank optics. The images he processed paced in a choppy framerate, and the clarity distorted to a lower quality. A moment's glance at the scoreboard told him that there was absolutely no way they would win in the larger scheme of things. It meant nothing. He couldn’t even attempt to sabotage the competition, or challenge the validity of his competitors' victories. He’d surely get caught, and only gain pointless drama that’d get him into trouble. Which he did not need more of.

Had he even passed that scout’s stupid test? Even if Starscream didn’t claim the more favorable glory he sought, it’d be worse if the failure was calculated against whatever new standard Megatron sought from him. Starscream was actually surprised his ever looming Lord hadn’t made further appearance by now. He was sure something was bound to happen soon. Perhaps this was all some sort of means to get him to let his guard down. Or to determine what could be used to force him in line. Megatron might be getting a byte more creative in his time as a traitor. Even if he was attempting some type of psychological approach, surely he’d revel in any excuse to beat the slag out of Starscream for any reason he could pull out his exhaust pipe.

This whole ordeal seemed too calm. Too casual. They all had many moments of clear annoyance towards him, yet constantly held themselves back but only a few meager remarks. It was not as if he held any particular power in this situation to warrant them to fear standing against him. They only seemed unsure, or dismissive. Even occasionally acting as if their apprehension was entirely absent. They were clearly hiding something.

Starscream had been lost in his own thoughts for so long, that he’d just about missed their little awards ceremony to conclude the night. That was until there was a crack and pop that sent a far too familiar shock through his muddled audials. He flinched and stumbled backwards away from the noise. Nearly trampling one of the Terrans but unable to utter an apology as he barely processed their presence.

It was only a device to distribute colorful material over the crowd. Their laughter was mocking him. Their celebration over their stupid series of trials that they rigged towards their own success, was disorienting.

Starscream was done. He’d played their games. He was not about to attempt to decode what they wanted next.

He stealthily retreated back into his corner of the cavern. It hadn’t been all horrible, he supposed…Regardless, he was tired. They were all too loud in the wrong way.

The curse flared with thoughts echoing some stupid impulse that’d use its power to blast them into oblivion. Then he wouldn’t have to worry about any of it. Then their threat would be neutralized.

But that wasn’t right.

Lightning flickered and stabbed across his frame as he now sat with his wings to those soaring seekers on the wall. He just wanted to leave. To fly away to a Cybertron where they were waiting for him. Where he too could enjoy such festivities. Where they’d cheer his name for his achievements. Where he could revel in their praise–perhaps even…alongside his trinemates, untainted by his mistakes.

Where…it would all feel real.

Chapter Text

“Just stay where I can see you, alright? The kids and I are gonna be doing some training over there.” Bumblebee gestured back towards a clearing littered with crates, what looked like dehydrated cylinders of some type of shredded flora, and an assortment of tires; which seemed to be arranged in some sort of obstacle course.

Starscream ducked out of the barn, keeping a close optic on the bug’s movements while stealing a glance at his surroundings. Upon gaining full access to the outdoors again, distancing himself from the structure, he fully flexed his wings and stretched. The stifling atmosphere of underground constructions was something he could do without.

Bumblebee shot a digit up to point at him with squinted optics, “Don’t you think I’ll be too distracted to notice you trying anything.”

An extremely weak attempt at a threat. The scout did not possess optics on the back of his helm. There was no way he could possibly watch Starscream every nano-klik while surrounded by sparklings.

Starscream rolled his optics and put his servos on his hips, then leaned down at face level to the bug with a smirk. “I would never dare assume such a thing.”

Bumblebee shoved Starscream’s faceplate away with a roll of his entire helm as he turned and scoffed, “Yeah, like I believe that, con man.”

“Tsk, you wound me.” Starscream crooned. Primus how he missed banter like this. The scout could be insufferable, but at least he was entertaining.

“Uh-huh. Just stay out of trouble will ya? I can’t be attached to your ped 24/7. ‘Sides, that’s what Wheeljack’s little thing ya got is for.” Bumblebee gave his own challenging grin with a gesture down at Starscream's ped accessory. Whether the statement was purely meant as a play on words, or actually held some sort of double meaning towards the device’s functioning, was difficult to determine.

“Hm, what could I possibly do…” Starscream tapped his chin in mock contemplation. “That tank of propane looks promising. Perhaps I could see how sturdy its containment is–right next to the human’s little residence.”

“Primus Starscream. You’d better not be that stupid.” Bumblebee turned to leave him be with a toss of his servo.

“I was obviously joking.” Starscream crossed his arms and his wings tipped down in a twinge of annoyance. The scout should be better at picking up sarcasm than that. It was actually rather disappointing. He paced closer to the edge of the fence as he watched Bumblebee meet with the others. Surely an examination of the perimeter would be permissible.

Starscream took his time exploring every centihic of the surrounding area within view of the bug. He didn’t need them accusing him if that blasted tank did decide to spontaneously combust. They were surrounded by an extended range of stalky perennials, with one road leading away from the residence, and a train track over the slight hill. The humans were cultivating an odd array of fuel, one variety sprouting from a particular species of those stalky perennials, while simultaneously managing a herd of lower class organic creatures.

He knelt by the fence containing them, and one stared at him. Starscream stared back. It looked stupid, and broke focus to gnaw on the ground dully. What purpose could these things serve? Would they not only become a resource garbage chute? Although he supposed some creatures he had studied in the past did refuel by consuming other beings. Perhaps instead of hunting, the humans decided to imprison them. A disgusting disrespect to the natural order of their planet’s formation.

A part of him felt sorry for the beast. It clearly knew nothing larger than this pitiful block of land. Nothing of what fate could befall it, or what life it could lead outside of its walls. Only living in complacent ignorance.

Starscream carefully reached over and picked it up, intent on freeing it from its cage. Surely those humans wouldn’t miss one or two of these things. Unfortunately, the creature’s liberation was thwarted by that damn bug barking at him.

“Leave the cow alone, Screamer!” Bumblebee called from across the field. When Starscream paused with the cow hovering in the air giving weak little kicks, the scout pointed a digit and dropped his tone to be more stern. “Drop it. Find something better to do than terrorizing cows.”

Starscream growled out a sigh as he lowered the beast back into its cell. He gestured flatly at it to the bug with half lidded, annoyed optics. Of course the Autobots would be opposed to a bit of minuscule revolution. Yet another example of those bot’s hypocrisy as they preach their ever expansive empathy. The cow ran off as if it too disapproved. It clearly didn’t know any better.

Since apparently fraternizing with the present wildlife was in the forbidden category, Starscream opted to redirect his focus to scouting out the possible escape routes. The road could be a useful means of keeping track of his position if he were to follow it, but that’s exactly the trail the Autobots would take. He rounded the edge of the forest to hover on the hill overseeing the train tracks. He might be able to discreetly hitch a ride on one of those, which would grant him a good deal of distance. As well as make it difficult for them to determine at what point he got off.

Starscream glanced back at the bug, and leaned casually against one of those stalky perennials surrounding the place. That rudimentary obstacle course seemed to be entertaining the children well enough, although he wouldn’t be so bold as to call it “training”. Bumblebee only seemed to be giving them useless words of encouragement or soft sparked notes on their performance. They must be preparing for some other ridiculous game inspired by their human companions. Nothing about whatever it was they’d cobbled together would prepare them for a war. It was a wonder the children turned out as well as they did.

Suddenly, he heard heavy propellers shake his audials. He turned his attention to the sky to see Megatron lowering in front of the Malto’s primary residence. Starscream’s optics narrowed, before widening in alarm. Why was that slagger here? Of course he was! Starscream knew it was only a matter of time. It was a miracle the buckethead hadn’t slagged him to the Pit the first day! Perhaps he’d simply wanted to wait until a sufficient amount of time had passed since his previous injuries…

When Megatron landed, Dorothy exited his hull before he transformed back into a mech, yet remained knelt before his little agent. Scrap. What could she be reporting to him? Starscream doubted anything good. It was never anything good. Sure, he hadn’t exactly done anything catastrophic yet, recently…but that hardly ever seemed to matter.

Starscream fumbled against the branches of those blasted overgrown twigs as his peds began backing him into them. His focus was locked on the warlord, even as he made a painfully sharp in-vent from his clumsiness. Then their optics met.

And he ran.

***

Meetings with those entitled, over blown human executives was always like grinding his processor through a compactor. Megatron was more than happy to let Optimus do all the suck up business. Having Dorothy by his side through it all was truly the only reason he was able to stay sane, and somewhat hopeful as he kept the terrans in mind.

Of course the human government would have questions about what happened with G.H.O.S.T., or the trouble with the Quintessons. But hadn’t Schloder already explained it all? Instead, after all this time, there still was that ever lingering distrust towards cybertronians. With apparently some conspiracy around them aiming to usurp the human’s government spreading around their internet. It really will never change, will it? At most, he could hope that such allegations will never fall upon the kids’ shoulders…

“They’re just uptight big shots that are insecure about their ranks, don’t let ‘em get under your plating Megs.” Dorothy advised from within his hull as they were making the flight back to her home.

Megatron growled out a sigh as he tried to shake his lingering rage at the ordeal. “Regardless, it does not give them the right to threaten eviction from our base over their baseless accusations.”

“I know. But we won’t let it get that far. Agent Schloder and I have been working on constructing a better organization that will be what G.H.O.S.T was supposed to. If we all work together as a team this time around, I’m sure it’ll be better.”

“Only time will tell, I suppose. I will give you my confidence, Dorothy, even if I cannot be as optimistic as Optimus.”

Dorothy scoffed a laugh, “I’d never expect you to be, Megs. No one can beat that bot’s ridiculous sense of delegation. He just wants to baby talk and social media his way through this biz and that just ain’t gonna cut it. We get that. But y’know, our two sides of dealing with this mess also complement one another.”

“Ah yes, teamwork. Heh.”

Dorothy knocked on the interior metal beside her affectionately, “You know it! We gotta hit ‘em from all sides! Give ‘em no way of gettin’ the jump on us with their dumb wall of red string they’re tryna wrap us up in.”

Megatron chuckled at her enthusiasm. It was often quite infectious. “I did always enjoy a good crushing tactic of the sort. If they think they will be the ones backing us against a wall, they’ll be sorely mistaken.” They reached their destination and he made certain to avoid the other vehicles in the driveway as he landed. He opened the hatch to let her out, then switched out of his alt mode with a servo set on his knee.

Dorothy patted his ped reassuringly, “Exactly. Now all we have to worry about is a certain con stirring up more trouble for us to clean up.”

Megatron’s expression fell. “Starscream. Has he behaved himself this past week?”

Dorothy shrugged with crossed arms, and looked unsure. “Decently enough. He actually seems to be…trying, in his own way. Although he did get a bit heated over Uno.” She dropped her arms again with a slight shake of her head and an amused grin. “I can’t exactly blame him for that–” she straightened to a more serious tone again and held a digit in the air firmly– “but he did grab Bee, which worried us for a moment before he let go. I definitely see what you were talking about with those strange surges. It’s difficult to determine what exactly triggers them. The kids said he had one the first day just out of the blue, and he blamed Bee for it, but they weren’t sure what he’d even done. Then there was another moment during Pictionary when he’d said “Transformers”...” She shuddered. “It was weird, Megs. I don’t know a better way of describing it. Like, it wasn’t exactly his voice for a moment, and he looked all disconnected or something… It doesn’t seem like it’s just tied to his anger. It makes me uneasy not knowing what is going on with whatever that is… But. Still. I’m sure we can handle it.”

Megatron paused for a moment, then nodded. “I understand. You are wise to be wary. We can’t be sure what exactly happened when he linked himself with the corrupted Emberstone, or what happened all that time while he was in the Titan. Unfortunately, I do not imagine he would take the prospect of testing well. So it seems the best we can do is keep him under control and monitor the surges. I trust you will continue to keep me updated. Remember, I am only a comm away.”

Dorothy smiled more genuinely up at him as he slowly rose to his full height, “Yes, yes, I know. I’ll keep in touch.”

Megatron smiled thankfully back at her, until his focus became distracted by the feeling that someone was watching him. His gaze drifted towards Bumblebee and the kids, before locking onto Starscream, who was standing just on the edge of the forest on the hill. Upon making optic contact, the seeker abruptly jerked backwards and darted into the woods like one of those skittish deer creatures at the sight of a predator. Quite a dramatic reaction. Megatron’s optics narrowed and he began walking towards where his former second had fled.

Dorothy followed his gaze and asked, “What is it?”

“Starscream ran off into the woods, alone. I will go after him. I’ll make sure he doesn’t have any plans of escaping, or whatever it is he’s thinking he’ll accomplish by simply running off like that.”

Dorothy put a servo to her hip. “Hm. Alright, be careful then.”

Megatron scoffed, “Careful? I know how to deal with him. I doubt even with this new power that he could be that much trouble for me to handle.”

Bumblebee noticed Megatron approaching them, then looked behind him and noticed the seeker’s absence as well, looking startled. He assured the kids not to worry and ran over to meet Megatron near where Starscream had vanished. “I assume you got this one? Or we could–”

“I’ll handle it.”

“Ookay…” Bumblebee backed off, “Gotcha. Have fun kicking his aft solo.”

Megatron lowered his optical ridges at that comment, and gave the scout a momentary glare. Bumblebee only shrugged and made his way back to the terrans. Megatron wasn’t entirely sure why the statement bothered him. After all, it did often become necessary to use force when it came to the seeker. Yet this time, he actually had the initial thought that he’d only accompany Starscream to serve as a chaperone. Optimus had wanted him to get more of those nature walks the Prime loved so much, anyway. It only bothered Megatron that Starscream would be unsupervised. A show of firepower wouldn’t be necessary, unless the flighty mech decided to make it so.

Megatron tapped into his Decepticon coding channel to pinpoint Starscream’s tracking signal. As he made his way through the trees, he attempted to be careful, but the damn things were always far too close together. Stealth was never his forte, which seldom mattered, although it did make it inconvenient at the moment as he had to catch a second tree from shattering another. He needed to be swift to catch Starscream, yet the clever bastard picked just the terran to slow him down.

Once he found a sufficient enough clearing to transform, he took to the sky. With Starscream’s own wings clipped, Megatron could easily cut him off from the air. Once he was right on top of the signal, he boosted a few hics ahead before transforming mid-air to land heavily in front of the seeker. Crushing yet another of those twigs in the process, perhaps he should get some training navigating these things some time…

Starscream, well, screamed. An annoyingly shrill shriek that would never cease to irk Megatron’s audials no matter how many times he heard it. His former second raised his arm that typically held his null ray reactively as well. It was absurd that he still had the instinct to do such a thing. He knew null rays were ineffective against Megatron’s plating, yet always tried uselessly regardless. It was almost amusing, if it wasn’t equally pathetic to see the panic on the seeker’s faceplate upon the recognition that he was disarmed. Then he only stared silently as if he were frozen on the ground.

“What are you doing?” Megatron inquired flatly, although with genuine curiosity. He moved his canon clad servo vaguely at him, which caused Starscream’s optics to shoot between his and the weapon.

Starscream still didn’t speak. For being so loud at the start, he always loved to shut up at the most aggravating times. It was a simple question. What could have possibly caused him to react so ridiculously? Megatron’s fusion cannon clearly wasn’t aimed in any threatening manner.

Megatron rolled his optics as the lingering frustration of the day's events seeped into his posture, and he took a step forward that shook the earth beneath his ped. “I am not talking in riddles, Starscream. Answer me.”

A minor surge started as red lightning began flicking from the seeker’s frame, although his optics seemed to fight the crimson force. Starscream stood and stumbled against the tree behind him as he tried to back away. “Stay ba-AAH!” The bark broke and sent him falling back in tandem with the log.

Megatron’s optics narrowed. He continued to advance despite Starscream’s demand, and reached down to pull him up from the bush. All he got was a rude smack across the servo with a buzz saw.

***

Starscream was running as fast as he possibly could. Although still made note to avoid leaving obvious evidence of his direction, also tossing broken twigs in an attempt to create a false trail. Even as he tried to retain some form of his tactical processor, he couldn’t think of anything else beside his need to move. Memories and predictions were rapidly flashing through his optics. He tripped over a scraggly lump of flora and cursed as he scrambled to his peds again to continue forward.

It would be far easier to gain ground if he didn’t have that blasted device locked to his ped! If he tried to fly away with only his thrusters, he’d be quickly spotted and not nearly aerodynamic enough to properly maneuver out of the way of incoming fire. Starscream didn’t have the time to try and pry the damn thing off. So apparently, the best he could do was dodge through the terrain and hope by some mercy of Primus that he’d be granted some luck for once.

He was easily still skilled enough to sleekly slip past any obstacle. He’d fold his wings back, down, or flare them out to narrow himself at his side. He might not be as nimble as Skywarp, but he had arguably more experience with such things. His processor was on overdrive as his vents struggled to keep up with him. Starscream’s focus was so tunnel visioned on the path ahead that he couldn’t take a single nano-klik to consider anything else besides what laid before him.

Megatron was surely after him. He had to be. Bumblebee would be angry with him. That won’t matter. He could live with that. If he managed to live at all if he got caught.

He wouldn’t. It’d be fine. Starscream is far faster than Megatron’s ever been. He just needed to not stop. Keep running. Dodge the branch, jump the next rock, slide between the next choke point. He’d get somewhere eventually. As long as it was far away from Megatron.

He heard those blasted propellers again from the buckethead’s stupid earth alt mode. No. He couldn’t possibly have found him already. There was no way he knew what his position was as the tops of the larger perennials shielded him from aerial view. Right? Starscream just needed to be quiet, not shake any of the brush to alert his pursuer. Speed wouldn’t matter anymore with that slagger hovering over him.

Yet even as he’d been carefully stepping through the branches with such precision that not even his joints dared make a sound–Megatron shot down from the sky so violently that his peds vertically crushed one of the perennials that’d dared to stand in his way. The force of the warlord’s descent knocked Starscream backwards with a rather indignant yelp. His helm hit against the stalky twig behind him and his optics shuttered. Without thinking, he attempted to blast the offending mech, but of course his null ray had been confiscated. It’d only been meant to serve as a warning shot–but he couldn’t even focus enough to see if his other blasters were operational. None of it would do anything against Megatron, anyway.

Megatron demanded something of him with a nod of his fusion cannon that made Starscream squirm, despite feeling as if he was in stasis lock. Was he going to shoot? Did he want him to get up? Starscream couldn’t take his optics off the cannon, and barely recognized that he had brought his servo up defensively in anticipation of an attack.

Megatron spoke again in his booming vocalizer that wrenched Starscream from his frozen state, as the two words “Answer me” came in far too clearly like a dagger through his audials. The order was horrifically pared by the thud of the warlord’s advance towards him. Starscream in-vented sharply, and tried frantically to back away as his vision glitched. “S-stay ba-AAH!” The stupid twig betrayed him, and left him crumpled in a painfully precarious position before Megatron, as the buckethead of course disregarded his statement. Why would what Starscream wanted ever matter? His wings and servos shook as the corrupted power grew and burned like an unstable reaction ready to burst from his cockpit.

Megatron was looming over him so that his shadow could further pin Starscream against the foliage. Then, a servo began reaching for him, and he felt as if his spark was trying to leave him too. Starscream transformed out his buzz saw and wacked it across the offending digits. He scrambled backwards with rapid kicks of his peds as he waved his weapon threateningly. “Stay back!” He reiterated firmly with a wretched squeak to his vocalizer.

Megatron’s fist clenched and he took another step closer. “I’m trying to help you. Is it that difficult to take my servo you stubborn fool?”

Help?? That was the most obvious lie the mech has ever allowed to leave his intake. Starscream may be stubborn, but he was certainly not foolish enough to brazenly surrender his servo to an enemy. If that even was Megatron’s intention. The brute would surely drag Starscream from the ground by an arm or wing before any such softer gesture would cross his processor.

Starscream glared and revved his saw as a warning. He refused to take his optics off of Megatron, using his other servo to stabilize himself on a nearby rock as he stood. The crimson power invaded his transformed servo, and sped its function to an uncomfortable level as it began launching lightning toward the buckethead. Alright then. It actually seemed to make Megatron stumble as it connected with his frame. Maybe it could be useful this time.

“Why must you always make things so difficult?” Megatron charged his cannon and fired a pinpointed blast straight at Starscream’s overcharged blade in response.

His saw was left to be slung across the ground in a crumpled lump of slag as he struggled to transform back out his servo. Sparks sputtered from his damaged limb, and he hit his working servo against it uselessly. Scrap! Well…perhaps he could still use it like some fragged up blaster with the chaos power still active.

Starscream aimed and shot a more concentrated, charged blast that made Megatron stumbled backwards. “I am not the one making it difficult!” He yelled and focused his attack on the fusion cannon as the mech attempted to pull it up for another shot. “All you have to do is leave me alone! I am not staying here for whatever twisted purpose you have planned!”

“What??” Megatron actually sounded outright thrown by this as he held his arms crossed to block the volley of fire. “What are you going on about?!”

“Don’t feign ignorance with me Megatron! What is it you want from me now?! You were never satisfied when I was your second in command, it never mattered what I did! Whether I did everything you asked, or challenged you, it was the same. Now, you still are seeking to make me into whatever slagged up puppet you have in your processor! So WHAT IS IT?!” The power rose and the device on his ped made him stumble as it disrupted his motor functions. “Why else would you keep me online now?!”

“I only wish for you to be better.” Megatron urged earnestly as he knocked away another blast and attempted to get closer.

“BETTER?!” Starscream shrieked, then began to laugh maniacally. “Oh yes, THANK YOU for that clarification! That explains everything! Except the fact that nothing I do or ever did will manage to meet your standards. What are they this time? What could I POSSIBLY become for it to be enough for you?!”

The corrupted power felt like it was scorching his interior components as it increased in strength to a point that the next blast nearly made Megatron fall over. He couldn’t turn it off. He just needed Megatron to be gone. His stabilizing servos were just about useless as the device sent another pulse through his frame, but he managed to force himself somewhat upright against the rock. His vision was now fully glazed in red light and his optics burned.

His aim began to suffer until Meridian’s disgusting voice swam through his processor. “Shoot him. You want that wretched mech purged from the Earth just as much as I, don’t you?” Those last, crooning words strung static through his servos like a magnet pulling them into action.

Starscream’s optic twitched, but he couldn’t bring himself to shake his dizzied helm. He growled and his wings flicked back as his chassis forcefully straightened itself again. Why did that fragging human continue to plague his processor? Starscream didn’t need that pest telling him what to do.

Megatron actually dodged the next shot that came his way, “Can we not just talk without the theatrics?! Perhaps I could–” Then he blocked the next, and planted his peds which slid backwards with a cut across the dirt from the force– “Ugh, I suppose I don’t have an answer that would be–” Another strike– “satisfying. But right–” Again– “now I just want you to be able to work with us, instead of–” Again– “continuing to cause more–” And again– “trouble for yourself.”

“I suppose you think it is all my fault as usual.” Starscream ground out the statement with considerable effort.

Meridian added his own pathetic opinion oh so helpfully. “All you Transformers know how to do is destroy everything around you. You really think any of you are capable of doing anything less? Relationships are far too human for you.”

“Oh shut up–”

“Just shoot. It’s what you’re made for after all.”

“No one asked you.” Yet Starscream couldn’t stop himself from doing just that.

Megatron had apparently acquired a meager shield from a shard of the fallen perennial. “All you need to do is stop fighting me! You may have the right to place blame upon me, just as the others did. But this petty bitterness for whatever I did to make you feel this way, does nothing to help us now.”

Starscream’s attention snapped back towards the buckethead as his optics attempted to focus on his shadowed silhouette. Oh slag. Not again.

His faceplate twisted into a sick grin, “Oh I think it’s doing wonders, actually! You can’t even get close!” The chaotic force shot more energy into where his servo should be and blasted forth an intense, continuous laser that shattered Megatron’s twiggish defenses. Starscream distantly heard himself laugh. “Look at how the mighty Lord Megatron cowers before the lowly Starscream! Even as your pathetic device attempts to disable me! How does it feel to be the powerless one?! The day I stop fighting you, is the day I go offline–but you’d rather keep me around as your functioning punching bag!”

Megatron maneuvered out of the line of fire, his plating scorched and dented. When Starscream realigned his aim, he shot his fusion cannon in a counter attack. The two forces colliding erupted into a violent explosion, with an equally intense recoil.

Starscream’s helm was now against the dirt and his optics were struggling to clear the white that continued to blind him. His arm wasn’t responding to him anymore to resume an attack. His audials were ringing. His spark burned. He wasn’t sure what was happening anymore.

Although some part of his processor must have, as he was saying something else to Megatron as the buckethead added some slag of his own. Starscream's spare servo moved, and he assumed he’d used it to do…something. He had to. He couldn’t let Megatron win. But that slagger always did.

There was a lapse in time as Starscream felt numb, despite the fact that he was still moving, if a bit clumsily. He’d continue to squabble with the mech, until a final surge encouraged the device on his ped to release its final EMP that knocked him out. Why had it only finally managed to do so now? What had happened? Shouldn’t it have done that during…

He couldn’t remember.

It did do something before, didn’t it? He was sure it did.

This must be the fault of Quintus’ slagging curse. And Megatron for showing his stupid fragging faceplate in the first place. Why couldn’t he do anything without that glitch looming over him? He should have played it off better. He’d forgotten the foolish mech was attempting to be some sort of twisted Autobot. He should have played into that. Not run off without a plan.

Why had he thought Megatron was there to destroy him again? The fool had spoken against violence as a means of solving one’s problems in favor of his newly branded superiority complex–ah but he supposed he knew such a promise couldn’t be trusted. That must have been it.

But he still couldn’t quite remember…

Chapter Text

Megatron stared down at Starscream’s unmoving frame. Halfheartedly comprehending the blistering destruction all around them. Many of the trees were either on fire, or fallen. There were scars in the Earth, paired with a crater caused by the explosion. It was a mess. But most of all, was the seeker himself. His arm had ruptured from his servo after the blast, with more of those crimson cracks spread across it. There were far too many fractures and warped plating. It was like what happened when he escaped the brig all over again. Although Megatron felt too, some sense of what the humans refer to as deja vu as he stood over Starscream. Again. Thin trails of smoke twisting into the sky.

Megatron was angry, but also confused. It was absurd that it had escalated as much as it had. Yet even as it felt typical–there were moments when it seemed as though Starscream wasn’t in control, which was certainly more abnormal. In fact, he’d started to make absolutely no sense after the explosion. Rambling about “not being thwarted again”, and how the kid’s wouldn’t be able to stop him this time. It didn’t align at all with what Starscream had been screeching about just minutes before. Was that what Dorothy had warned him about?

When he began retrieving the limp seeker from the ground, the Maltos and Bumblebee came running into the scene.

“What was with that explosion, is anyone dead–Oh my Primus what happened!??” Bumblebee exclaimed with an exaggerated gesture as a twig gave up its fight to cling to the rest of its branch in the background, and plopped weakly against the grass.

“I’d like an explanation myself…” Dorothy began as she surveyed the carnage, while her gaze ended upon the two mechs who caused it. “I think you did need to be more careful there, Megs. This isn’t exactly what I’d call handling it. I’m gonna need to order so many trees to replant this mess…” She pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head.

Bumblebee had begun directing the kids for damage control; putting out or blocking off the fire until it died on its own. “What’d Screamer do to make this much of a mess? I thought you’d just like, give ‘im a good whack on the helm and drag him back or something, not blow up the place!”

Megatron tensed his grip around Starscream, but loosened it when he felt a dent deepen. “I apologize for…the damages. It was not my intention for it to escalate as it did.”

Twitch zipped up onto his shoulder after she finished assisting her siblings, the little bird leaning in to scrunch her tiny faceplate at the seeker. “Yeesh. Was it that weird chaos jolt junk again?”

“Yes. It was. The EMP Prowl insisted upon certainly took its time in doing its job.” He glared down at the device, “We will need to contact Wheeljack.”

Twitch fluttered into flight again to whirl around in the air in excitement, focusing on the more preferable aspect of the topic. “I’m on it! I’ve been meaning to call Dad 2 anyway–this’ll be perfect! Well–I-I mean not like–the situation of course…but y’know. It’ll still be nice to hang out, and maybe he can teach me how to fix this sorta stuff!” Megatron gave her a small nod of support, and the little bird was off again to make her call.

Dorothy knocked against his ped to obtain his fading focus. “So. What triggered it this time? I know you two have history, but we’re trying to stop these sorts of things from happening, not cause them.”

“Yes. Well. It would seem my mere presence persists on being of great offense to him. I am accustomed to our little spats and disagreements, or his general cowardice when confronted for his actions, not–!” Megatron paused for a moment as his processor attempted to filter his memory banks. “...Not this…” His former second had fought by his side for vorns, and was absurdly resilient. Starscream would often voice his complaints quite openly, but no matter how it was received, he’d swiftly move on as though it was business as usual. The mech was practically impervious to any real damage. He would always be back on his peds being a yappy little retro-rat with a snap of his servo. Had that somehow changed in their time apart? Surely not.

“...Let's start with getting him back inside for when Wheeljack gets here, and then we can talk it over more while you help me pick up this mess. Alright?” Dorothy turned towards Bumblebee. “You and the kids can continue on with your drills, Bee. Me and Megs can handle the rest around here once I get together the materials.”

The scout then rallied the others together again, and they all made their way back to the Malto residence. They aided Megatron in finding a trail this time, so the trek was far smoother, with no further path of destruction in their wake. The children had glanced back at him occasionally, but favored talking amongst each other instead. Likely scared off by the heavy scowl that he couldn’t shake from his faceplate. In fact, the thought only made it deepen as he thought about how Starscream had reacted at the sight of him.

Far before Megatron had been forced to unload his cannon upon the seeker in retaliation, Starscream had acted as though it was already pointed at him. All he’d needed to see was Megatron even slightly move it in his direction. Sure, wariness, or fear, was understandable. Even expected. Starscream of course, was supposed to be afraid of what would befall him at Megatron’s servos in the past. It was how Megatron had kept order. A healthy dose of fear had kept his cons in line, and if they didn’t do anything to warrant it, then they had nothing to worry about. Had Starscream really thought that his silly act of galavanting into the trees would warrant such a punishment? Hardly. Which should’ve been obvious. It’d only gotten to such an extent from Starscream’s own overreaction. It would have been far easier if he’d just done the dance of shrinking away and dramatically begging for mercy, if he’d thought such a fate was to befall him. Instead, he persisted on being as unpredictable as ever.

Over these past years alongside Optimus, Megatron had learned the value of perhaps being a touch more gentle with one's subordinates. Words didn’t need to be paired with a fist to force them into the other mech’s helm. At least, they shouldn’t. They were supposed to be exchanged. He and Optimus had plenty of their own disagreements, as he and Starscream had, but they never needed to brandish their weapons. Why did it always seem so impossible to do the same with his former second?

Suddenly, he was standing in front of the barn and heard Twitch’s rotors hum, “Dang. I guess our entrance is just a bit too small…”

Megatron stared down at the little stairway tunnel they had opened after crouching down to see it through the barn door. “Hm. It would seem so.” He might’ve been able to compact himself to some degree, but he was both too wide and too tall for it to be anything but uncomfortable while carrying his seeker as well.

Hashtag rolled up, then retracted her wheels to stand before him. “That’s alright! He’s actually not that heavy, I can take Screamer down for ya!”

Megatron blanked a moment hesitantly. She was correct. Yet he felt a touch impressed by her boldness, much like in that moment when she’d stood between him before. Hashtag certainly was a unique kid. “Alright then.” He passed Starscream off into her hold and she tossed him over her shoulder to then swoop down the staircase with ease.

He hovered outside and watched as the other Terrans began rearranging their obstacle course for their next race. Dot made her calls for the necessary materials before their departure as well, arranging for them to be delivered to them as to eliminate the inconvenience of flying around the city. Then, Wheeljack came barreling into the driveway with his engine revving obnoxiously before he transformed. Stomping over with a glare at the sight of Megatron loitering in his path.

“I hope you realize that I am more than your fix-it hotline Megatron!” Wheeljack noted with a screwdriver pointing up at him, while some sort of patch kit was in his other servo. “I’m an inventor and engineer. I. Ain’t. Ratchet. As much as it might surprise you–I do have projects that require my attention that I’d much rather be giving my attention than being forced to come out here everytime you wanna break that mech of yours for the 25th time!” Upon seeing Twitch come their way, he loosened and gave her a little wave before turning his back to her for a moment in order to give a final gripe about the situation at Megatron. “You’re lucky I just happen to enjoy Twitch’s company.” Then he whirled around to greet her.

“I can be the assistant right!?” Twitch asked excitedly. “You can be all like–scalpel! Or wrench, or whatever–and I can get it, and it’ll be just like in the movies, and I can learn how fix my siblings when they get hurt, and–”

“Woah now,” Wheeljack chuckled, “Slow down there little lady. We oughta save that energy for the action!”

“Right right-” Twitch nodded with her faceplate full of determination as she tried to realign herself to be even minutely professional. It was frankly quite adorable.

Megatron watched them disappear into the barn blankly. He’d faintly processed what Wheeljack had been rambling about. Surely he hadn’t been so drastically inconvenienced since he was now allowed an excuse to spend time with the little bird, instead of rusting away in his lab. That ridiculous fixation on one singular project made Megatron think of Shockwave. He had always had to refocus the scientist away from whatever questionable, or unnecessary experiment he’d gotten in his processor. Mechs like them were certainly always useful, and often brilliant, but tricky to handle with how independent they were.

Although, he couldn’t understand what aggravated Wheeljack about standing in as a medic. Engineer, mechanic, medic. What was the difference? Shockwave never was opposed to any sort of tinkering, be it with living metal or not. Then again…perhaps it was best to not compare them after all.

Finally, Dot drove up with a trailer and a trail of delivery trucks behind her. The other humans exited their vehicles and she elicited their assistance in moving the materials before asking Megatron to transform into his alt mode. He obliged, and waited stoically for them to load the materials. All this waiting around only allowed his processor to wander in ways he’d much rather it not. He was cycling through his files on Starscream. Once again thinking of the seeker.

He categorized memories from all points in time, with him increasingly becoming more aware just how many of them had been anything but pleasant. Then, just as he had managed to locate a clip where Starscream had been excitedly relaying a cockamamy scheme he’d concocked against the Primes at an early setting of the war–Dot knocked against the wall of his hull as a signal for him to close the hatch. Megatron lingered in the memory, and that feeling of fond amusement attached to it just a little longer, before storing it away and attempting to refocus his attention on the present. He sealed the hatch and slowly rose into the air as he became accustomed to the extra weight and was careful not to cause too much turbulence. Then began on their way toward the site in need of repair.

“Alright Megs.” Dorothy suddenly started after getting off the phone with her husband. “Are ya ready to talk about what’s really up with you and Starscream? You’ve been awfully quiet.”

Megatron hesitated another nano-klik. “I am still trying to wrap my head around it, admittedly. I always knew our eh…relationship, if that’s what it could be called, was odd to some degree. More so from many others questioning why I even kept him around, than anything else. But I am now starting to question our partnership in other ways.” After hovering a moment, he landed in their ill-created clearing. “As well as my leadership style in the past.”

“That so?” Dot prompted him to continue as she began transporting the saplings out of the way to allow Megatron to dump out the remaining dirt and seeds.

“Yes,” He affirmed verbally without yet the capability to nod, “When I lead the Decepticons, it was quite common for me to keep them in line with a show of weaponry here and there. In those days, looking back, I also tended to…unleash my frustrations on those around me.”

“Heh, yeah, the military certainly can bring that out in people. I knew this other commander who would constantly yell, or throw the nearest object anytime someone messed up. He never intended to hit any of us, just wanted to scare the newbies a bit y’know–but he did hit this guy Craig straight in the face once. He had to go to the hospital. That was quite the day.” Dot grabbed the last tiny tree and gave a little tap as a signal before Megatron transformed as she stepped out. All the little sacks of soil plopping to the ground beside him.

Megatron’s optical lids lowered as his gaze lingered towards the crater, then he chuckled with a more lighthearted air as he tore open those bags to begin filling it into obscurity. “I once tossed an Energon cube at Starscream’s helm, and it didn’t even phase him! The pouty seeker only looked a touch offended…” His vocalizer trailed out as a clip from a file he’d forgotten to square away from before came to the forefront of his processor. One where he’d catapulted said seeker across their war room with such force that the wall had cracked and crumpled behind him. Starscream had still managed to lift a digit to affirm that Megatron had a good point as a response. Megatron had only found it funny, if a bit impressive, after his initial annoyance at the insubordination. “Although he did frequent the medbay, he more often just dealt with it on his own, as many of us did.”

“You should never leave injuries unchecked Megs.” Dot scolded casually as if he were one of her children. “But I do assume, in correlation to what happened today, you two had moments where it escalated further than just yelling or tossing a cube in the past as well?”

Megatron nodded as he kept himself tethered to this moment by meticulously smoothing out the earth beneath his servo. “We exchanged blows with each other quite regularly, actually. It was…well, I suppose it wasn’t normal, as I never witnessed you or the Autobots behave as we did. I hadn’t given it much thought until this past year, or however long it’s been. Yet now, I can’t even approach him in any manner without him assuming I am immediately intending on attacking him! He doesn’t…he doesn’t feel safe around me. I realize our history has not been the most flowery thing in the worlds, but then why had HE–Ugh….” Megatron growled and rubbed his optics as if the sensation would fix his emotions, but then he only got dirt in them. “AUGH–Scrap!”

Starscream had attempted to usurp him, or leave him to be offlined, on so many occasions. Was THAT his fragged up way of expressing his thoughts on the matter in the past? Megatron had only seen it as the seeker being a weasley creature that craved any bout of power or superiority. Could it really have been something more than that?

“You alright?” Dot asked with a note of concern as she carefully slid a sapling into a hole she dug.

Megatron shuttered his optics rapidly in an effort to finally rid them of those blasted organic particles. Then he ex-vented as he ran his servo down his faceplate. “Yes, yes. I’m fine. Only this ridiculous material invading my optics, is all. I’m just…frustrated. I have worked for so long to gain what trust I have from Optimus and the Autobots, alongside being forced to stand against my fellow Decepticons, and enduring their anger towards my actions. As they have a right to. Yet, somehow, Starscream seems…different. I just can’t figure out why.”

“It sounds like you two had things a lot more complicated than I thought.” Dot dusted her servos before moving on to the next little tree to plant. “I’d like to say that maybe it has something to do with his issue being more personal than the other cons, but I also know about you and Soundwave, so I’m not sure. But I guess Soundwave didn’t fight with you like that before you joined us though, huh?”

“Hm…No. Soundwave was far more agreeable.” Megatron knelt near her to assist in making an imprint in the earth for the next sapling to be placed inside. “Starscream seemed to always believe he had something to prove, and in our altercation today, he asked me what I wanted from him. He always seemed far more self assured, much like Shockwave, but to a far more problematic extent. I never thought he cared what I wanted him to do. Always going against my orders, or coming up with his own little schemes…”

Dot laughed, “That kinda sounds like a teenager. Breaking the rules to try and prove that they know better than their parents. They wanna act all independent, and will fight you over every little thing. Sometimes, it’s them acting out in a misguided effort to make you proud. Sometimes, it’s them being angry about something, and they don’t know how to handle it. Or, they got something in their head from the internet that makes them think that sleep is a conspiracy somehow, and stay up all night playing a video game–but, I’m getting off topic.”

“Starscream is no human teenager.” Megatron stated flatly, failing to see the comparison relevant.

Dot sighed, “Of course not. But that never stopped plenty of other adults from acting like kids. Some people get locked in that mindset, and you bots do tend to be forced to grow up pretty quickly. My poor Terran babies are only like, almost 3 years old! I still can’t get over how absurd that is with all we’ve been through…I’m not saying it's the same thing. FAR, far from it. You all have millions or some such crazy amount of years under your belts. Regardless of the numbers, I still think I might get it, at least even just a little. But if you and Starscream also apparently beat each other up like this a lot, then no wonder things are weird with you two.” She patted the dirt around the plant and stood again. “We really need to find a good time for you to actually be able to talk it out with him. It’s not like I can speak for whatever issues that lunatic really has goin’ on.”

“I know that.” Megatron let his ped compact the dirt beneath it with more force than intended. He didn’t want to snap at her. But if he didn’t control himself from taking it out on the ground instead, he’d only ruin their work. “It is not as if I haven’t tried to talk to him.” He grumbled as he carefully retrieved a pack of seeds and snapped it open to allow them to scatter to the wind on their own. “He’s just incapable of giving me a straight answer! All I get are snide remarks, or him starting a fight. Even when he was locked up he found some way to twist the conversation in these odd directions with explanations that didn't match up in any sensible way! I KNOW we need to talk. All i’ve wanted to do since we retrieved him from the Titan, was talk to him. Perhaps more so in the hopes for closure with at least one of my closest Decepticons from the war. But we…have never been the best with that spark-to-spark nonsense.”

“We haven’t exactly been allowed the time to truly process it all with these–constant crises, even after we were supposed to be done with it. I know I still have plenty to talk about with my therapist, with each week's new bout of insanity.”

Megatron’s optical ridges furrowed at the title, “Therapist?”

“Yeah,” Dot shrugged, “I talk to her about things that’ve happened, or what I’m worried about, and she helps talk me through it. Or sometimes gives me homework, which the kids always complain about when they get out of their sessions.” She chuckled fondly at the thought. “My point is, Megs, is that maybe we can help you through it. Instead of leaving you two alone, you could pick someone to mediate. Like me, or Bee, or Optimus.”

“Hm…That might work. Optimus would be the best candidate, but the mech is always far too occupied with other matters. Bumblebee…no. Arcee would only make things more confusing, and Elita is not exactly the master of de-escalation.” He glanced back at her, “So, if you are truly willing to volunteer for such a thing, I would appreciate it. Now it would only be a matter of when. You will let me know when he is functioning again?”

Dot hovered her gloved servo in front of her jaw in thought. “Of course, but for this to work, Starscream will have to agree to it.”

“Uuuugh…”

“Pff,” She smirked at him, “You can’t make him talk to you, or you’ll just run into the same problem again ya big baby. I’ll letcha know how it goes.”

Megatron scoffed, “He’d better not come up with excuses to avoid me like the coward he is for months on end.”

“Oh I’ll keep on ‘im about it, don’t you worry. But these things can take time. We have to be patient. He won’t change in a week.”

“Right…”

They finished up the repairs, collected the waste, and by the time he was leaving her residence again the Earth’s sun was setting over the horizon.

Whatever was going on with Starscream, Megatron could not let things continue to be left unresolved between them. They were going to have a legitimate conversation. They were going to make real progress, and be able to move on from it all. He was tired of his past coming back to slag him in the faceplate, time and time again.

He was going to make it right somehow. Even if he had to drag that stubborn fragging seeker kicking and screaming to this “Therapy”, he was going to figure this damn thing out.

Ah but perhaps…that thought was just the harsh process that got him into this mess in the first place.

Chapter Text

There was this surrounding, choking, all consuming pressure. Then, Starscream’s optics fell upon the planet-sized force looming before him. He was capable of nothing but to stand in limbo amongst the shards of metal, rock, and dim stars who were the only promise of anything else beyond this carnage.

It was Unicron.

This couldn’t possibly be real. The Planet Eater, Chaos Bringer, harbinger of doom, and twin to Primus himself. Here? Now? Impossible. Yet his cursed spark dared to foolishly argue otherwise.

Starscream squinted into the light emanating from the serrated pit that illuminated him, and someone else. Meridian. That wretched creature in the state he’d been when he should have perished. Hardly human at all, with all his disgusting augmentations, combining what bit of organics he had left within his mechanical frame. It was impressively worse than his original body. Mandroid indeed. He should have stayed in that smelting pit where he belonged.

Unfortunately, Meridian remained. Talking with Unicron. As if the pest could offer anything to a god.

What were they saying?

Against Starscream’s better judgement, he attempted to drift closer. Although he still made certain to find a sizable asteroid to hide behind. Perhaps they were distracted, and hadn’t noticed him yet.

“There is no need for you to come here yourself, Unicron.” Meridian was apparently attempting to uselessly plead his case. “With what power you have given me now, we are perfectly capable of ridding Earth of any remaining Cybertronians. That is all that matters.”

His answer was a chaotic cacophony of hissed whispers that could hardly be parsed out from one another. Some words. Some screams. Some cracks that Starscream could practically feel what, or who, they belonged to. The noise attempting to strangle his processor with its weight.

Then, a proclamation distinguished itself with cold certainty.

“You fail to comprehend my purpose. Meridian.”

There was a chilling silence. Starscream had gripped his optics and forced them shut. But he could still see it. Those whispers too, still reverberating in his audials.

…

Then suddenly came Meridian’s voice in turn, croaking out his demand yet again. The ignorant fool. “Your purpose is no concern of mine. I only need you to help me destroy those Transformers. MY purpose, is to rid the human race of their vile influence. The destruction of Earth as a whole is hardly an option. If you want to devour a planet, why don’t we go for Cybertron? Surely that would be more worthwhile.”

“I will spare your pathetic planet, IF…you destroy the Matrix.”

The Matrix? Why would Unicron make any sort of bargain with this mandroid? Did the Matrix of Leadership hold power that threatened even the Chaos Bringer himself?

A flicker of amusement came to Starscream at the thought of Unicron being afraid of a glorified, privileged trinket. What, would the Prime opening his chest plate to flashbang them into oblivion all it would take? He couldn’t help but laugh. Out of all the powers of the Primes, and Primus himself; that was what the Planet Eater was fixating himself on now? Sure, Optimus Prime was insufferable, but Starscream thought it absurd that he’d again be set to be a savior against the oldest evil in Cybertronian history.

“Of course.” Meridian stated with falsely placed confidence and a trace of annoyance. “I’ll make sure to leave nothing left of them, this time.”

Such promises.

Did this arrogant hunk of flesh and scrap really believe he had the capability of doing such a thing? Starscream hadn’t been able to destroy the Autobots with the power the corrupted stone had given him. How dare this fool think he could do any better. What advantage did he think he had? The pathetic glitch was only a figment of Starscream’s impressive imagination. With what army? With what weaponry? Clearly Mandroid’s plan had only gone so far as “I want them dead” and nothing towards how he was even going to accomplish it. If he thought that he’d suddenly be able to single handedly take the Prime and the others down–just because he had weaseled his way into Starscream’s circuits by some will of Unicron–he was going to have a rude awakening.

Starscream wasn’t going to be a part of this nonsense. This story his processor was concocting in his recharge this time was certainly a unique one, but hardly believable. He was quite certain now that this was only an odd nightmare. Visions of Unicron and this Mandroid conspiring some slag about the Matrix? Please. Ridiculous. How unrealistic can you get?

He didn’t need to stay here. How did lucid dreaming work again? Did he only have to think of a door or–

“S t a r s c r e a m.”

Meridian was gone. Starscream was now where he had been instead. Right in front of Unicron. And getting closer. Like he was the next in line to be devoured.

Unicron spoke Starscream’s designation like it was a javelin made of frozen titanium. Sent straight through the spark, and pulling him forward as it remained locked inside his frame. Forcing his attention directly into that Primus damned Pit. Clicks of those jagged spires within Unicron’s maw were like ticks of a metronome for the encore of harsh whispers echoing from within it. Talking directly to him. The chaotic bouts of knowledge urged themselves to be known in a way a parasite ached to feed on its host. Taking more than anything that was given. It constricted any of Starscream’s own thoughts with only this visceral, impending promise. With a command that aimed to carve its way into his code.

He didn’t want to hear it.

It wasn’t real.

Unicron wasn’t real. He refused to believe any of what he was seeing would happen. It couldn’t. He wouldn’t be a part of it.

“Y o u W I L L s e r v e y o u r p u r p o s e. T h e r e i s N O e s c a p i n g i t S t a r s c r e a m.”

No.

This…WAS real.

And yet. As his optics and audials burned and glitched wildly to spite him. As his vents refused to open. As he felt the sickening sound of the entrance of the destroyer’s mouth closing behind him.

Starscream ripped his helm from his servos, and as soon as he truly witnessed what was inside with unwanted clarity; he woke up.

***

Starscream shot straight to attention with a sharp gasp paired with an intense need to transform, and jet out of wherever he was now. But when he attempted to do so, his systems countered the command as soon as the blasted thing on his ped got in the way. Instead, his thrusters sputtered and launched him back against a wall.

The crimson lightning was flickering erratically, some of it taking on an oddly more violet hue. Starscream attempted to focus on his servo, feeling out the solid surfaces at his wings and peds. Then began refocusing his optics to what was around him. The berth in this ridiculous room the Malto’s made him. The posters with his seekers and that one with Megatron getting shot in the faceplate. That stupid Bumblebee lamp he now recognized he held a shard of. There were those two human adults, too. Twitch, and the hum of her rotors. She was holding a rather protective stance in front of her guardians...

Then there was Wheeljack. “Primus Starscream, ya always know how ta make an entrance, don't cha?” His servo was extended carefully at a respectable distance with no weapon in sight. “Ya really gotta stop tryna break my things as soon as I fix ‘em, y’know.” Wheeljack nodded to the device that’d interrupted Starscream’s escape. Right…

He stared blankly at the servo and the mech attached to it. There was a mech attached to it. Starscream was in the Malto’s underground residence. The future still plagued his processor, no better than the past. Yet what he needed, was the present. He needed to know that THIS was what was real. No Megatron. No Unicron.

Starscream’s wings shuttered and he managed a shaky in-vent. That strange strategy Hashtag had shown him, could only do so much it seemed. It was painfully hard to focus. He felt numb. While at the same time like he could purge his tank at one wandering thought. So, he tightly gripped the sharp fragment of that porcelain lamp until he could feel a light drip of energon from his digits, while he lifted the other in an undecided attempt at taking Wheeljack’s offer. Part of him wanted to know with concrete certainty that it wasn’t an illusion. Another dreaded the thought of the potential, undesired answer.

So he hesitated. Locked in place. His gaze focused on scrutinizing Wheeljack’s faceplate. Searching for a clear solution that could give him the confidence to take that chance. It shouldn’t be so hard. Starscream was air commander, and leader to the Decepticons; he could take a mech’s fragging servo. It’s never killed anyone before. Wheeljack was harmless enough anyway. Unless he had a shock switch in his palm or somehow rigged it to blow. Although the former sounded far more like something Skywarp had done. There should be nothing to worry about. Acknowledging this mech’s non-threatening gesture wouldn’t be the end of the world.

“You alright…? Are ya gonna take my servo or what? Did ya knock your processor loose again?” Wheeljack fidgeted as he was apparently not too fond of the staring contest that Starscream was clearly winning. “Y’know ya gotta get up for me ta take a look at that.”

Starscream shuttered his optics and finally took hold of Wheeljack’s servo, who instantly helped pull him up from his awkward position. Even moving to intercept when Starscream faltered with a wave of dizziness. It was odd. Not just the uncomfortable air of concern, but the physical contact itself. He was led back to the berth to sit down again, and he began to recognize the toolbox and energon pack hovering nearby on a cart. That was why Wheeljack was here. Starscream had gotten into an altercation with Megatron, of course he’d needed repairs…

He released the lamp shard and remembered how his servo hadn’t been there in his last memory file before he went offline. Now, the only thing wrong with it was his minor, self-inflicted cut. Starscream distantly wondered if his buzz saw had been replaced. When he attempted to transform it out–nothing. Unfortunate, but unsurprising.

Wheeljack took the shard and gave him a firm look. “I’m gonna need ya ta say something Screamer. I ain’t exactly an expert on processor damage, but your helm was pretty banged up there. You can hear what I’m saying right?” Twitch, too, flew up to land on Wheeljack’s shoulder and held an inquisitive, expectant expression.

Starscream looked up at them and attempted to operate his vocalizer. He couldn’t have forgotten how to speak. That would be absurd. But he couldn’t think of the correct words. What was he supposed to say?

“Uuuuhh…” After a ridiculous moment of frustrated confusion at such a simple thing, something clicked, and he finally remembered. “Yes! Yes. I am…present. I’m fine. I’m sure your repairs were quite sufficient, Wheeljack. Although I will say I am surprised I have not found any experimental augmentation in place of my servo after your tinkering. How unlike you.” He smirked at the inventor with an air of disappointment, and a hope for any sort of entertaining conversation.

There was a predictable glint in Wheeljack’s optic at the prod. “Oh you bet I thought about it!” He pulled up his holoscreen and sifted through a slew of blueprints for potentially devastating or overly equipt servos. “Like this one! How cool would it be if you could have a built-in grappling hook?? A magnetizer ray? A projectile shield generator? Or! Or, get this. Each digit could activate a different function if you clicked it right! You could have a little blowtorch, a welder, a scalpel, a screwdriver with adjustable sizes, a laser pointer, a tiny little gun that shoots paint or condensed notecards–”

“Oh!” Twitch inserted herself in front of the screen excitedly to select a servo of her choice. “Don’t forget this one! A super stinger based off of Bee’s! It’d stasis lock ‘em for twice the time, and could have melty laser ultra charge mode!!”

Wheeljack sighed wistfully. “Aw but Prowl didn’t want me givin’ ya any more weapons. It’s a waste of a perfectly good opportunity to upgrade if ya ask me. I for one think that they should have allowed me to at least beta test my newest blaster model. I mean, what’s the fun in fixin’ things if ya ain’t gonna make em better?”

Starscream examined his plain servo again. He didn’t particularly have any urge to change it. He only wanted his own gear back. All the same, such additions could be quite interesting. “I couldn’t agree more. It truly is such a shame that they would continue to restrict your creative instincts in such a way. I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to offering my services, if you so wish.”

“Eh, eh. Don’t make it sound like a deal now. You know I can’t resist testing my tech; but even if it pains me, and I don’t like it, Prowl might have a point.” Wheeljack paused as he seemed to only be attempting to convince himself of this so that he wouldn’t defy his superiors orders. He squinted his optics, “About the weapons at least…”

“Yeah, I mean, Scream can’t really be trusted with a firearm—But you know who totally CAN handle it Dad 2??” Twitch fluttered next to Wheeljack’s faceplate with pleading, mischievous optics. “Me. It’s me. Please. I want a literal firearm. I need it.”

“Oh nuh uh, young bot.” Dorothy spoke up as she came closer to them from the door, and looked up with a stern glare. “You are not getting a flamethrower or some unstable laser arm attached to you. Do you realize how dangerous that'd be? No. You are perfect the way you are. No experimental upgrades.”

Starscream scoffed. “What, do you not find her capable of operating anything more than a meager base form blaster? If she is not given the opportunity to even attempt it, it is quite insulting to assume. Sure, Wheeljack’s device could backfire, melt the rest of her arm off, or send her flying into oblivion; but isn't that the thrill of discovery? Why not let it play out.” He looked to Wheeljack expectantly. Such a remark would surely get him revving. If not in some form of defense, then perhaps he’d even agree with him. The explosive technician had always been one for pushing the boundaries of practicality. And, he knew it often came with the sacrifice of equipment through trial and error. A loss of a limb was nothing if only an annoying inconvenience. It’d be an informative experience for the little drone.

Instead, Dorothy’s stupid conjunx inserted his extension to her opposition. “While I am just as excited about the idea of the stinger of the future–that does not sound safe. Couldn't you test it out from a distance? Or without attaching it to yourself?”

Wheeljack hesitated a moment in contemplation. That was far more boring than his sudden bouts of incessant rambling. “I suppose my drones respond quite well to field testing. I don't see why not. Twitch could still be my assistant, from a safe distance.” He winked at her, and Starscream felt a touch offended at being ignored.

He glared at those disgusting humans and an image flickered in his processor. Meridian as he was with G.H.O.S.T, and Mandroid as he was in the end. He was there one moment, and gone the next as Starscream adjusted his optics. Primus he needed to realign his attention on whatever stupid slag was being discussed beside him…

Twitch was apparently happy with that compromise, and now was energetically whirling around them in her alt mode. The others seemed to find something amusing. Then his servo was lifted by some force he didn’t immediately connect the source of. He felt that constricting, weightless pressure again. He tried to focus on the material being wrapped around the insignificant injury, but his digits felt strange. He gripped the edge of the birth until he could finally feel the scrapes his claws dug into the metal.

The clicks in his audials suddenly turned to snaps of another mech’s digits. “Hey now, stay with us here Screamer. I really gotta take another look at your helm.” Wheeljack reached for a scanner and dent detailer. “Twitch asked ya a question.”

Starscream blinked to shake the odd lighting and blurriness from his optics. “What?”

“I asked what happened with you and Megs!” Twitch abruptly popped up far too close to his faceplate with her servos on her hips as she leaned forward.

He flinched and instinctively pushed her away. “Why don’t you ask him? It’s not as if you will believe my tale of events anyway.”

Twitch scoffed with a rev of her rotors and crossed her arms in a huff. “Maybe I will if you’re gonna be a jerk about it!”

“Hold on Twitch.” Dorothy of course needed to assert her own opinion on the matter. Clearly she was gearing up a backhanded affirmation of her bias for her pet warlord. “Starscream, we still want to know your side on the matter. If we’re going to make this work, we need to be able to trust each other, be honest, and work it out when bad things happen.”

Or…not? Why would Megatron’s agent be interested in playing the part of an impartial judge? What was this slag? Make WHAT work? He still couldn’t figure out what this even was! They say one thing, then flip around with some other fragging angle like they couldn’t even decide what they’re own intentions were! He wasn't the one misunderstanding these things. Right? No. No, they just…were trying to mess with him. This was some sort of trap.

He’d love to play along, really. His first instinct had been to do just that when he’d first entered this little box of familial load of scrap. But it was an impossible charade to keep up for long. They wouldn’t believe him. Especially if he constantly got hung up on every little nonsensical sentiment they threw at him.

Starscream again found difficulty in parsing out the words from all those chaotic bouts of data in his processor. “...You can’t be serious.”

“Why not?” Wheeljack retorted plainly as he reached over to meddle around with Starscream’s helm. “The whole point of this is for ya to eventually come on our side, right?”

“You expect me to believe that’s what you all are doing this for!?” He smacked away Wheeljack’s servos and attempted to stand, but only fumbled a bit of distance between them on the berth. “All for your sudden interest in becoming allies!? This only came about because you realized that I wouldn’t remain a passive prisoner so easily. With whatever had infected my spark from Quitus’ blasted Emberstone, you’re afraid of me. Admit it. And you couldn’t think of any better way of keeping me in line than this slag! I’m not stupid. You can’t–” He was shaking again with those sparks of lightning being incapable of deciding whether they wanted to be crimson or violet, and he choked out a laugh. “You can’t make me believe this again. I…I know Megatron only wants me around to–to be his–I–all any of you want is to control me for your own goals! Well I don’t! And if I said that I was only trying to gain some distance between myself and that deranged tyrant, you’d call me a coward. If I said that I had only defended myself, you’d justify his actions like everyone always does. Because, oh right, it must have been Starscream’s fault–Megatron never lashes out unprovoked! I TOLD him to leave me alone! HE NEVER LISTENS!”

Wheeljack held his servo’s up defensively. “It’s alright Starscream, calm down. We’re listenin’, promise. Ya don’t needa yell. I’m right next to ya.”

Starscream put his own servo up to his helm and forced his vents to cycle in a rhythm he tapped out with a digit. He was calm. He was a professional at keeping his Primus damned composure. They were the unreasonable ones.

But…it wasn't growing into a screaming match. Wheeljack wasn't throwing any of his tools. Dorothy, for whatever reason, had actually advocated for hearing him out. That just didn't make sense. It all didn’t feel right. It was wrong. They were…wrong.

“I’m not yelling.” He snapped defiantly, and maybe he had been, but no one ever heard him otherwise.

“But–Megs HAD to go and get you ‘cause you ran off!” Twitch sounded confused and upset, even as she began to detail that same slag yet again. Now that made more sense. “You guys didn’t have to fight about it! Megatron wouldn’t–”

Then, Dorothy interjected again. “I know Megatron is better with his fists than his words on some days, and I know you two have quite the history of this sort of thing. So, it sounds like you weren’t even trying to defy our arrangement, but just got spooked and bolted when Megs showed up. Is that right?”

Did she really…well, even if she did, clearly all it would take was one little thing for her to show where her allegiances lied once again. All the same, he felt a different sort of pain within him at the thought. He wanted so desperately for anyone to listen to him, to understand. He’d thought Hashtag had understood, but now he wasn’t sure where they stood, and couldn’t shake the feeling that it was his fault. Like he ruined one good thing he could have had with her. Now, his helm and spark was a slagging mess, and he couldn’t do it again. He didn’t want to sabotage even the mere chance that…maybe this human might actually be more than he first thought. As unbelievable as it may be.

Starscream couldn’t look away from her. It was absurd. He couldn’t get himself to respond. He didn’t want to admit he feared Megatron. He didn’t want to appear weak. He was already shaking and probably looked stupid.

He tried to straighten his posture and pull his servo from his helm to tightly grip the other on his lap. He fixed his wings to be neutral. Everything was still spinning, but he could handle it. He could answer them, and maybe Twitch could achieve a similar understanding as her guardian.

“...Something like that.” Starscream adjusted his expression to be professional, paired with his calculated presentation. His claws began to dig into the minute lacerations through the patch, and it aided in focusing his processor. “I had assumed he was here to enact some sort of repercussions for my lackluster performance in this whole redemption slag. Surely I’ve crossed off a plethora of deplorable actions over the course of this trial period. Attacking Bumblebee that one time over a stupid game…I’m sure plenty other things as well with whatever parameters you discussed with him when I arrived. Although he certainly doesn’t often require an excuse to toss canonfire in my direction. So, my intent was to avoid that, then my condition instigated things. A warning shot does not equate to an invitation.” His vocalizer was distant, although he could still clearly define it as his own, which was an oddly comforting thought.

“I…guess that makes sense.” Twitch looked uncomfortable as she folded her arms across her chest plate in a similar manner Hashtag often did. “But he wasn't going to do that. You haven't been THAT bad. I expected worse honestly.” Her snark returned with a smirk as she tilted her helm.

Dorothy sighed. “I admit I did as well. THAT was what me and Megatron had been discussing that day. He was actually trying to convince me to give you a chance, Starscream. Calm my nerves. I was…hesitant to let you near my family.” She held onto her conjunx’s servo more tightly, and he returned her cue by leaning closer before watching Starscream carefully again. “But, I agreed because it seemed important to him. And…I remembered what I had told Nightshade. Everyone deserves a second chance. I promise that we aren't keeping score of every little thing you do. As long as no one gets hurt, you are allowed to be, eeh… well. You. We’re all navigating this “redemption slag” the best we can.”

“Yeah! Megatron isn't gonna beat you up for calling Uno stupid, that’d be dumb!” Oh the little drone would be quite surprised to hear the stupid things that had elicited that reaction from her beloved buckethead.

“Ah yes, it would. Wouldn't it?” Starscream acknowledged Twitch’s ridiculous comment before turning his attention back to the human. He had to force his wings to be neutral again when they attempted to tense with that Primus damned electricity behind him. “It’s equally difficult for me to believe that a human would be so willing to offer such patience, and not jump at the chance to put a bot in their place. It seems to be so invigorating for you, after all.” Mandroid glitched across his optics again, and he glared at the spector as he gripped his servo more harshly.

Dorothy’s faceplate wrinkled in an odd way. Perhaps she was offended. “G.H.O.S.T doesn't represent all of us. They're gone for a reason.”

Wheeljack was beginning to pack up his tools. “Yeah those folks were quite the control freaky type. Always in my business and worryin’ bout my inventions like I was trying to blow us all up or something.”

“And Dr. Meridian was…troubled.” Alex added. “While I may not like you Starscream, I’d never enjoy inflicting that sort of punishment. That's just wrong. Although I am certainly not above grounding a grown bot if I have to!”

“I’m already grounded.”

That made the human falter. “What? No you're–well–were we going to ground him for running away?” He looked to his conjunx for guidance.

Dot blinked in confusion before coming back to her senses. “No. No, it was just a misunderstanding. Honey–” She was apparently actually referring to Starscream with such a ridiculous pet name. Humans were full of surprises– “grounding is like when you lose privileges after doing something wrong. Like when Mo and Thrash broke her window, we took their electronics away. That sorta thing.”

Starscream squinted his optics. “That still sounds quite accurate to my current level of restrictions.”

Twitch began to laugh. What about this was so funny? “OH MY GOD HE IS! Screamer’s grounded!” She began to absolutely lose it over this revelation. Did she have a screw loose?

“Huh…” Dorothy also seemed to be doing quite the equation. Her effort to correct Starscream on his knowledge of their terminology, only seemed to make her question her own. “I guess…wow.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her helm, looking a bit amused herself. “Okay, I guess that's about right. Theeeen the worst you’re gonna get is a timeout in your room or something, I don’t know.” This made Twitch laugh louder. “If anything, we’re just going to talk about it. Alright? There's no hitting each other. We use our words in this family.”

“Hm. Unless you count Megatron under that classification, I’m not convinced.” Starscream crossed his arms. Tapping a digit to an irregular rhythm as soon as he felt himself drifting again.

“I promise Megatron isn’t going to hurt you. He just wants to talk. We were actually discussing before you woke up about deciding on a good time you two could try and figure things out. He really does want to fix things, and regrets what he’s done in the past. You just have to give him a chance.” She seemed…genuine. Even so, it was a foolish wish for him and Megatron to come to any sort of understanding.

Starscream scoffed and rolled his optics. “Megatron feeling any sort of regret for his actions? You’re joking. The slagger is a professional at rationalizing any inane decision he makes. He might want to talk to me, but I certainly do not wish to speak with him.” A malicious grin grew on his faceplate. “Let the mech suffer if he so desperately wishes to bask in my presence. I don’t owe him anything.”

Dorothy looked disappointed. “We won’t push it on you if you aren’t ready. But you two do need to talk at some point. You know you can’t avoid him forever.”

Then, as Wheeljack was beginning to exit the room, he was intercepted by Twitch. “Aw, are you leaving already??”

Wheeljack and Starscream locked optics as a moment of pause permeated the room. “‘Fraid so Twitch. My work here is done and I still got plenty of things to do back at base.” He looked away and disappeared around the corner with his supplies in servo. “You’re welcome to come with if ya want.”

Twitch looked to her guardians for permission. “You guys okay with uh…Can I?” She gestured back towards her mentor with a clear want to follow but laden with uncertainty.

Dorothy nodded. “You have fun dear, we’ll be fine here.”

Twitch hesitated another moment before disappearing as well.

“Heh.” Starscream chuckled as he leaned down with a servo on his knee to get a better look at the two humans he was now left alone with. “Confident little creatures, aren’t you? Do you not realize how easily I could crush you right now?” This only strengthened his assumption that this room wasn’t some innocent little box for him to stay in. Why else would they feel so secure? Or perhaps they simply underestimated him. That would be a fatal mistake.

Dorothy crossed her arms and looked unimpressed. “You won’t do it. You’re smarter than that.”

She was right. Although Starscream still leaned back again in a hint of surprise.

“Now. I’ll let Megatron know that you aren’t ready. We’ll just focus on making things better between us here. You still need to make up for what you did, and we will help you get it right. For now…how are you feeling?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Alex was the one to answer. “If you don’t tell us when something’s wrong, or explain your…different thought processes; we can’t help.”

“Plus, it’s to show that we care how you’re doing.” Dororthy added, “Y’know, encourage a bit of that “think about other people’s feelings” biz that Bee was trying to tell you about.”

“That’s an odd thing to fret over in words.” Starscream flicked his servo dismissively. “I already said I’m fine. What else do you want?”

“More than just an “I’m fine”, maybe?” Dorothy gave him a bit of sass with a grin like they were having some sort of banter.

“An extensive list of my condition would be excessive. I’m sure such a thing would only bore you.”

“Try me.”

Starscream attempted to analyze any hint of deception in her stance. Anything that would allude to an ulterior motive. Surely this gesture couldn’t be as plain as she made it out to be. Besides, he still couldn’t understand why she cared. A flat assurance that one’s state of functioning was stable, was satisfactory enough. Why would it matter the specifics? He was operational, that’s what mattered. Sure, things weren’t exactly optimal, but expressing such things only served as a show of weakness. He wasn’t going to give her any details that she could use against him. Yet clearly she wasn’t about to back down. So what could he say to get her off his back about this “feelings” slag?

“...I…admit I am a byte shaken by recent events. My current situation isn’t exactly one I had anticipated. Certainly FAR from anything I would like. Your bunch of brats are constantly either avoiding me, or throwing any amount of scrap in my faceplate they find amusing. Or would you rather me say how absolutely delighted I am for this gracious opportunity?” He quirked an optical ridge and crossed his legs with a servo to his cockpit. “Your unyielding hospitality knows no bounds! My fleshy little friends. I’m sure that my accursed spark will be righted in no time with such noble creatures at my disposal.”

Dorothy shook her head, a note of fondness growing in her expression. “Yeah, sure, alright Screamer. We’ll work on that.” She and her conjunx began to leave as well. That was far from the expected response.

He wasn’t quite sure what he HAD expected. Annoyance? Defensiveness? A proclamation of his response being horrid, and dissatisfactory? Perhaps he had expected for their conversation to escalate in some way that would require him to up his suck up meter. Or throw a bit of extra shade their way. Not such an artless statement alluding to some assurance of improvement! Bland is what it was. Bumblebee was far better at this.

Then she continued from the doorway, “Why don’t you get some rest? You’re welcome to join us outside when you’re ready. But don’t push yourself. Bee has a small stash of energon in Nightshade’s lab. If you want any, just don’t go and hoard it all or something.”

“Yes, yes. Stealing bad, and whatever else it is you are insinuating.”

She rolled her optics at him with a grin before the two humans vanished from view just like the others. He’d attempted to keep them in sight as long as he could. Part of him didn’t want to be left alone with his thoughts. Sitting here, alone, in this blasted room didn’t sound particularly relaxing. He’d much rather DO something. Perhaps he would take them up on the offer to get some fresh air.

Embarrassingly, as soon as he tried yet again at the effort of standing on his own, his stabilizers immediately flared warnings in his processor that sent him crashing down. He couldn’t possibly be this disoriented still. That was pathetic.

Starscream maneuvered towards the wall, and used it to guide his direction as he stood. Then traced it towards the exit. At the very least, he could scope out that energon to store some of it away in his berth’s compartments. Not enough to be overtly obvious, but enough to ensure that if they decided to withhold fuel as a means of indirect punishment in the future, he’d be prepared.

He needed something to focus on outside of all the useless slag riddling his processor. Anything else. He didn’t care what it was. After he acquired his stash of fuel, perhaps he could find some sort of object he could lean on for the surface. It needed to be inconspicuous of course. It wasn’t like he needed assistance walking…maybe he’d just rely on structures for stability instead.

There was no Megatron. No Unicron.

Things actually seemed to be improving. Somehow, he seemed to be winning the favor of that odd human femme. This might not be going as badly as he thought. Maybe he could work with them. A strange thought indeed, but not a new one.

He just needed to not think about everything that could go wrong.

Chapter Text

Once Starscream managed to reach the Terran’s little lab, he began carefully opening the cabinets in search of that energon. He found an assortment of inventions in progress, and organized cashets of parts and tools. Nightshade was actually rather impressive. Wheeljack could certainly learn something from the kid on the matter of structure. That inventor’s workspace had always looked like a typhoon had blazed through any chance Starscream had passed his door in the Academy.

Eventually, he found the box designated for energon, and flicked open the lid. Of course it was in an Autobot crate. He should have thought of that first, really. Starscream’s focus immediately drifted away from the cubes, and landed on the patches. Those would be far easier to carry, as well as more convenient when he’d likely only purge the liquid variety in his current state. He wouldn’t exactly call that productive. So, he gathered as many of the patches as he could, stuffed a couple sheets of metal he found in their place, and covered it with the remaining patches before sealing the crate again.

Starscream once again found the need to trace the perimeter on the journey back to his room. It was ridiculous that his leg and helm were continuing to put up such a fuss, but no matter. He was still plenty capable of achieving this minor victory of hiding away his little stash of energon. He could perhaps even periodically gather more bit by bit to increase it without them knowing. That’d be at least something to quell his nerves.

Once all was in its place, he stumbled again as he stood, but pushed himself up stubbornly and glanced out the doorway. Starscream chuckled darkly at the fleeting revelation of how much this reminded him of those vorns on the Nemesis. Getting crippled by Megatron, limping across the halls, hoarding bits of energon. It was quite the classic it seemed. One that never ceased to humiliate him. Although a fact that has only proved his superior resilience. This was nothing he couldn’t handle.

“Confident now, aren’t we?” Meridian quipped and projected the insight that he was most certainly mocking Starscream’s previous statement towards the humans.

Starscream tightened his grip around the doorframe. “Yes. Actually. Now silence. I have no need for your petty interference.” He attempted to move towards the exit, but found his servo locked in place with a wave of disorientation as his optics flickered. He stumbled against it to prevent himself from falling, and put his other servo to his faceplate in a futile effort to stop those images from infecting his processor.

When he finally got his optics to work in some semblance of clarity again, Mandroid was right in his faceplate, with an expression filled with contempt while still managing to look unimpressed. It was disgusting. “For someone with such a disgraceful record as yours, you have nothing to prove yourself worthy of such credence. You were notoriously ruthless in the war, and even if you fought beside these…Terrans, against me once, you clearly only know how to continue to destroy all that surrounds you. Why stop now? Why not give in to your nature?”

“Shut up.”

“Do you honestly believe that you can show your face up there and talk to them like you don't have a kill count in the thousands, with even more personal betrayals to speak of? Perhaps you could start a conversation by showing a shred of reverence. Yet we both know you’re incapable of such a thing.” Meridian was pacing around him with his floating helm following him as he moved.

Starscream knew this abomination wasn’t real. He didn’t know why his processor was projecting this, but logically, there was no way Meridian was here. He was dead. They had melted that horrid suit he carried his corpse in. It was flatly impossible. Starscream just needed to ignore it. His inventive processor had been on overdrive as of late, and he just needed to push through like he always did.

So, he forced himself to disconnect from the wall and walk right through the spector. Starscream put all his focus on keeping his peds steady. On the crisp, real pain that shot from his knee that loved to taunt him at the most convenient of times. He found the activation switch to reveal the stairs to the outside, and ignored anything that was supposedly lingering behind him.

“Nothing to add?” A putrid laugh. “Go ahead then. Make a fool of yourself. Say hi to Alex for me.”

Starscream wasn’t listening to any of it. He didn’t care. Meridian didn’t deserve his attention. If that even was Meridian at all. Either way, he wasn’t going to grace it with another thought. He was going to get out of this suffocating confinement, and get some much needed stimulation. Any sort of distraction was exactly what he needed.

Bumblebee was always a good option for some meaningless yet entertaining bouts of banter. He’d be the best candidate for Starscream’s attention. Any of the Terrans would surely be far too complicated to navigate at the moment. What would he possibly say to them? Hashtag? How would that conversation go? He still didn’t know how to make anything up to her, and now would most certainly not be the right time to contemplate it.

The trap door closed behind him as he exited, and he slowly pushed aside the doors to the barn. Starscream hovered there a moment as he took in everyone’s positions. The humans had their wall opened up for the Terrans to share in their fueling session. They had some type of wrapped, organic slag, while the kids had some oddly shaped, frozen confection on a stick. It seemed like more of an excuse for a social event, like the Decepticons often did during their breaks. Perhaps such a thing wasn’t an abhorrent waste of time as he had once thought. Hashtag looked happy.

That cursed vision of Unicron cut through him in a fleeting, yet persisting force. It was coming. None of this mattered. Their meager moment of joy was nothing. Meridians scheming meant nothing. His defiance meant nothing. In the face of eternity, in the face of a god. They were all…

No. What was he thinking? It was just his overdramatic processor again. It had to be.

It had to be.

He needed to find Bumblebee. Focus on something else. Where was he?

Starscream shook his helm and shifted his wings. He felt for the subtle gusts of wind, filtered the structures and flora with those cows that surrounded him in his optics; as well as tuning his audials to minute notes of sound. Solid. Real. Like the absurd noises those creatures made, or the familiar pacing of peds around the corner.

He traced the edge of the barn and finally found just the mech he was looking for. That mattered enough. Right? Right.

Starscream leaned one servo on the exterior wall of the barn, and put the other on his hip. “Hey.”

Bumblebee was stacking cubes of hay–an amusing name for such a thing–a couple brandishing painted targets. “What?”

Scrap. What did he want to discuss with the bug again? Surely he had some sort of direction in mind for this interaction.

There was a moment of awkward silence between them as the question to his greeting went unanswered. He couldn’t let the scout think he came here without some sort of purpose! He needed to think of something. There had to have been something.

“Weellll…” Starscream began with an air of boredom laced with confidence. “Surely you were deprived of my presence for long enough after that…unfortunate, incident with Megatron. I am here to graciously offer my company! What are you doing?”

“Riiight. I’m just setting up a small target practice game for the kids for after they finish lunch.” Bumblebee placed another cube, then pointed to the color coded rings on the target. “The exercise is on accuracy, and I even have a fun point system with prizes planned for them! Ehhh I admit, Alex helped me figure out the prizes–but the rest is all yours truly!” He put a proud servo to his chest plate.

Starscream hesitated a moment as he scrutinized the rudimentary setup. “It’s a little… plain. No aerial targets? No projectiles for them to dodge? Tell me you are at least planning on throwing some incoming blaster fire. How would this teach anything?”

Bumblebee’s faceplate scrunched, then he ex-vented in frustration. “It isn’t meant to be so intense, just a bit of low stakes friendly competition to build some confidence. Not everything has to be some high stress ordeal to teach you something, thank you very much.” He dropped a cube to punctuate his statement, then knelt down to adjust it with a small grumble. “These kids already have plenty experience with that scrap if you ask me.”

“Hm…I suppose.” Wait, no, he couldn’t let the conversation lull out like that with only some passive agreement! He shifted his expression back into a comfortable smirk and prodded at the bug. “Are you certain that you are not simply too soft-sparked to allow them proper training? For Primus sake, a couple pebbles tossed their way wouldn’t permanently damage them. If you truly have confidence in their ability, you wouldn’t underestimate their threshold for punishment.”

Bumblebee tossed his servos in the air in some note of defeat. “Fine! I MIGHT add something for them to dodge. Like…water balloons! Ohoh now THAT would be perfect!” He bounced in place a moment before remembering where the objects he sought were located. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

The bug dashed off towards the humans for their assistance in the matter. He had taken that criticism surprisingly well. Perhaps Dorothy had talked to him about that patience slag or something. Starscream wasn’t sure if he was entirely enthused about that prospect or not. It was strange having the bug agree to some degree instead of turning to accuse him of some sort of scheme against them.

Starscream began tapping his ped in an effort to cement its presence below him as those images came into view again. Bumblebee was taking too long. What was it that he was even looking for with such urgency? Rocks would work just as well as whatever it was he was insisting upon. Why did it matter so much? The kids needed to be prepared for more than ridiculous little scoreboards anyway. Why had Starscream even initially agreed to that scrap?! None of them knew what was approaching, and they wouldn’t believe him if he warned them. Or…WAS it even something to worry about…?

“Hope ya didn’t miss me too much.” Bumblebee suddenly arrived and tossed a sack of flimsy elastics in his direction, of which Starscream instinctively caught with ease.

“What is this?” He inquired with a hint of disgust as he took one of the miniscule, assumed balloons from its packaging.

“They’re the water balloons, and since you wanted there to be projectiles so bad, YOU can fill ‘em up for me.” The scout strutted over to his ridiculous stacks of hay to continue his work with a smirk.

“Uugh…” Starscream groaned as he rolled his optics. “This–” He shook the elastics– “was not MY decision. You really only fill this scrap with water? How droll.”

“Yup! There’s a spigot right over there.” The bug gestured a couple yards from Starscream’s ped. “I suggest you get to filling them because it’s gonna take ya quite a while. Trust me. It’s more difficult than you might think to deal with those things.”

Starscream scoffed and knelt down beside the spigot and carefully examined the fragile, sack-like elastics. “Don’t be dramatic, Bumblebee. I sincerely doubt this pathetic thing could possibly pose such a challenge.”

“Uuuhuh. I warned ya.”

Starscream glared at him suspiciously. Did he sabotage these things somehow?

He adjusted the balloon to the spigot and slowly began to crank the tiny, human sized wheel. If anything, it was absurdly precise and tedious. Then, the elastic abruptly detached itself and catapulted into the mud that resulted from the loose water.

Bumblebee laughed. “See? Not so easy is it?”

“Oh spare me the “I told you so”, and focus on setting your stupid excuse for targets over there.” He carefully attempted to pull open the elastic to fill it again, but it only tore into a useless mess. Whatever. He’d get a different one. This wasn’t so hard. Besides, such meticulous work was a perfect task to keep his own focus tethered to this ridiculous moment.

“Excuse me, my targets are resourceful and awesome.” Bumblebee proclaimed as he gestured to one of the stacks.

“Such strong words.” Starscream crooned. “Insecure about your lackluster little set up, are you?”

“Pff–” The scout scoffed with an indignant toss of a servo at the idea– “Hah, no! What would I have to be insecure about? That’s ridiculous. This idea is perfect and they are going to love it.” There was a moment of pause as he retrieved another cube and continuously readjusted their arrangement. “Right? Yeah. I know good target practice! You’re just a hater, as the kids say.”

Starscream snickered at the bug's antics, but growled as one of the balloons burst from merely being placed inside the bucket. These things were so weak. Why they were better than his rock suggestion was beyond him. “I will gladly be your ever loyal hater, Autobot.” He flicked his wings up tauntingly with a momentary glance back at Bumblebee.

He rolled his optics. “Gee, thanks. I’m flattered.”

“You should be.”

A more comfortable lapse in conversation fell between them as Starscream focused on the rhythm he’d gotten filling the silly little balloons. A couple of those birds were communicating in passing above them in some strange string of music. Bumblebee’s constant pacing was quite amusing to track, paired with his occasional muttering. Even taking a moment to parse out what the Maltos were up to in the background proved to be a productive use of his attention.

Eventually, he topped off a fifth bucket filled with water balloons ready to be tossed at those unsuspecting Terrans. They had finished their fueling session and made their way towards Bumblebee’s target practice. He relayed the objective, displayed the parameters, and informed them that Starscream was going to be the one giving them an extra bit of a challenge to the exercise. Perfect.

Twitch was the first up. She watched him and waved a taunting servo in his direction. Starscream carefully selected one of the balloons, retracted his servo into his arm, and launched the projectile her way. She dodged it with ease. Impressive. The longer her turn went on, the more difficult he made his watery onslaught as he rapidly threw them her way and predicted her pattern of flight. Soon enough, She failed to dodge three of the shots, which put an end to her streak.

“Aw scrap! I totally thought I dodged that one!”

“You nearly would have, except you failed to account for your opponent changing their own trajectory at the last second.”

“You did great though! Never missed a target.” Bumblebee encouraged as he reset the cubes.

Hashtag was up next. She readied herself on her wheels after a quick scan of her surroundings, and the next round began on the scout’s signal. She had many close calls and missed one of her shots because of it. Yet halfway through, a new air of determination came to her faceplate, and her movements became more fluid and precise. Alas, once again, as Starscream allowed himself to aim with unyielding precision, she lost the rest of her strikes. The last hitting her square in the faceplate. It was good they weren’t rocks after all, he supposed.

“Augh! Dang it, I was so on a roll that time!”

“Hah! Perhaps, but if you want to keep your stamina for long term battles, you have to get consistent.”

“Hey, I’m supposed to be the teacher here Screamer!” Bumblebee complained plainly as he replaced the targets.

Starscream put a servo to his hip and arched an optical ridge. “Then by all means scout. Add some wisdom to the eager young sparks, why don’t you?”

“I will! Uh…well, Hashtag. You did great with utilizing your environment, but you could also try and transform your wheels away for quick stops to increase your sharp agility options when changing directions.” Surprisingly insightful.

“Ooooh, gotcha!”

Then came Nightshade. They were the first to actually retaliate against the incoming balloons with their own projectiles. They took a far more methodical approach by hiding behind the stacks of hay, and requiring Starscream to maneuver overhead on his thrusters to follow them. By the end, they got hit twice, and the third shot at the same time they had hit the last target in their alt mode. They landed, transformed back and shook off the water with a smile.

“Well that was invigorating! It is unfortunate I could not avoid that pesky balloon at the end.”

“There’s a moment of lag when you are readying that final attack of yours with your alt mode’s wings. It leaves you far too exposed if you aren’t careful about it.”

“Yes–” Bumblebee interjected with a raised digit– “that’s true, but using your offensive tools defensively is very smart Nightshade! And I’m sure we could work on that move of yours in the future by taking inspiration from Twitch and how she can flip and fire at the same time! We can always learn from each other's tactics while on the sidelines.”

The game continued through the rest of the Maltos kids. They were all actually quite impressive with their varying styles. Although he had to scold Jawbreaker regarding the validity of eating the water balloon as a response to an incoming attack. That wouldn’t save him against real blaster fire or a missile. The fact that the dinobot had argued simply that it wasn’t, only proved that this method of training wouldn’t teach them the true seriousness surrounding the lesson. Even so, Starscream could admit that this version of events was far more fun. The atmosphere was calm. There was no looming threat of a trip to the medbay. Only the prospect of reward for doing one’s best.

It all seemed very juvenile. All the same, he enjoyed toying with Bumblebee, giving the Terrans little notes of advice, and watching them light up at the silly prizes they won. Hashtag even asked to run the course a second time to improve her score. Starscream revelled in the fact that he could see her little bouts of improvement. As well as the fact that she listened to any critics he gave her. Starscream even showed Nightshade and Twitch how to rapidly change direction in the air. A tactic of which a couple of the other Terrans attempted to mimic from the ground.

Such moments of peace and comradery were fleeting. Yet still something he was determined to cherish in these strange times. He’d never spout such nonsense aloud, mind you. But it was true all the same.

He could focus on detailing aerial maneuvers, and sharp shooting a moving target. Focus on the decisive wind through his wings, and the rocks beneath his peds. The vast sky overhead, with a single, small moon barely visible in the blue sky.

He didn’t want to think about anything else.

Chapter Text

Hashtag had hoped that the game night with Starscream could go better this time around. They’d had fun training together at least. They were all kinda starting to get along. Sharing music, cat videos, comics, their favorite wrestling channel–even Thrash was starting to warm up to this whole thing! Though he DID constantly try and do some silly schemes to test the sketchy seeker, the vibes weren’t malicious or anything. It was starting to feel just a bit normal again. As normal as it could be anyway. So what was the deal?

Why did Bee and Screamer have to get into some stupid fight? Now? Why was he acting all extra weird, this time?

Hashtag squinted her optics at her teacher and…potential second teacher if he stopped being dumb; while leaning her face against a servo.

“C’mon Starscream!” Bee tossed his servos in the air in exasperation at the ordeal. “You can’t hide in there just because you don’t want to lose in Uno again! It’s not THAT bad!”

Starscream was gripping the edge of the entrance to his room, and glaring like he was imagining blasting Bee’s face off. The thought made Hashtag tense. “No! That is NOT what I am afraid of you fool!” He jabbed a digit at Bee. Now…he did actually look oddly on edge come to think of it. “Enjoy your ridiculous games, and leave me out of it! Don’t try to act like my absence will be some tragedy. I’m sure all will go far smoother without–” His optics flickered with some weird mix of red and purple in them–kind of energon-ish color? That was new–and he held his head as his wings went all spazzy.

Bee tried to reach out but was smacked away. “Dude. Look. I don’t know if you fell in love with isolating yourself after your months of alone time in the Titan, but as your redemption officer, you GOTTA get out of there.”

Starscream ignored him and disappeared deeper into his hole in the wall. Bumblebee tried to follow, and Hashtag couldn’t hear the rest of their conversation, but it only seemed to be going in circles anyway. Bee was wrong though…Starscream has hated being alone since he’d come here. The only time she’d seen him going to hide away like this was when it seemed his social battery had been depleted like Nightshade.

Something was really off about this. Was that corruption junk just getting to him more today? What even WAS that anyway? She still hadn’t found the right chance to ask him about it! Most of her siblings have assumed he went a bit crazy from chaos magic, being by himself with corpses he convinced himself weren’t actually dead, and that was all it was. That made sense enough, but something about it still didn’t feel right.

Eventually, Bee came back looking a mix of annoyed and concerned as he took his seat next to Dad. “He won’t listen to me.”

“What a shame.” Robby said with poorly masked sarcasm, which earned him a punch in the shoulder from Mo. “What??”

“You know what.” She crossed her arms with a tip of her head back. Mo’s signature sass at their brother would be more funny if Hashtag wasn’t so anxious right now.

Mom leaned forward and raised a hand in a signal for them to knock it off when they’d started a staring contest. “I’m sure he’s fine. We gotta allow him the freedom to choose what he wants to do. You can’t force it, Bee.”

Bee sighed with a servo over his optics. “Yeah. You’re right. It’s just kinda my job, and all.”

Dad patted his arm reassuringly. “And you’re doing great! How ‘bout we kick the night off with some charades huh? You can be on our team!”

Bee smiled. “Alright alright.”

“The party ain’t stoppin’ for any grumpy ol’ bot!” Twitch cheered in an effort to heighten the mood as she brought forth the bowl of prompts.

Yet as they started the game with Dad rapidly throwing out guesses to Bee’s word, Hashtag’s focus just kept drifting back to Starscream. Sure, they could just leave him alone, but she had a sneaking suspicion that wasn’t actually what he wanted either. He always tried to play up the tough guy scrap, and she wasn’t buying it. Maybe she could try and talk to him. It was worth a shot, right?

Hashtag pulled Twitch aside and signaled for her to keep her voice down.

“What’s up sis? You doin’ alright?”

“Yeah! Totally…Um.” Hashtag fiddled with her digits as she parsed together how to go about this. “I’m just thinking about going over to check on Starscream. I don’t wanna bug Bee or Mom about it though. I think he might come out if I'm the one to talk to him. Or at least–I just don’t like not knowing what’s going on, y’know? So…can you fill the fam in after I bounce?” She gave her sister a pleading grin. She didn’t want to just announce her plan to everyone and potentially make Bee feel bad, or Mom to just deny her from doing it.

Twitch looked back at the others before landing her rather serious gaze back into Hashtag’s optics, and flew closer to put a servo to her shoulder. “Tag, you know I trust you.”

Hashtag cringed, “Please don’t let there be a “but” at the end of that sentence…”

Twitch snickered a bit. “Nah…I just want you to be careful. Send me a signal as soon as something wack starts going down. We don’t need that con tryna randomly use you as a hostage or something. Soooo I guess the only but would be–are you sure you don’t want me to come with you for backup?”

She thought about the offer for a moment. It would be nice to know Twitch was there to have her back. Screamer could still be pretty creepy sometimes, even if he seemed to be getting better. But if he’s already in anti-people mode right now, less people would probably be better. Plus, He always seemed to be extra…careful (?) when it came to Hashtag. Like…he felt bad about what happened. She didn’t know why he directed it more at her than her siblings, but she could still use that to her advantage. Twitch might just make things more complicated when she’d inevitably get protective, unfortunately.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll be careful, I promise. I’ll text ya updates if he doesn’t immediately kick me out.” She chuckled. Hopefully that won’t happen, but even if he tried, she was determined to not be deterred so easily.

“You better! Your big sis worries you know!”

“A little bit too much sometimes,” Tag teased.

Twitch flipped down a servo with a roll of her helm. “Pff, I worry the perfect amount. Now get on over there before I think about this too hard, and I’ll fill the fam in after Mo and Thrash finish their turn.”

“Thanks sis.” They exchanged a thumbs up and split off to fill their prospective rolls.

Hashtag made her way over to Starscream’s room, suddenly feeling more hesitant the closer she got. The ceiling stars inside were set to night mode from the cycle Nightshade had set for them, but it gave more of a spooky sort of lighting that didn’t help. Especially when his optics and those weird sparks stuck out in the dark.

It’d be fine though, it was just Starscream. Not like he’d killed people, kidnapped dads, or anything. Besides, she knew how to get to him. She knew he wouldn’t do anything crazy. Oh Quintus, did she?! She hadn’t thought he’d do that other insane junk before either! Maybe this was a bad idea after all–no. No. It’d be fine. He’s been chill. He’s actually been kinda nice. There’s nothing to worry about!

Hashtag took a deep breath to steady herself, and knocked on the doorframe to announce herself. “Hey–”

Starscream jerked in a similar way he’d done when she first went to see him in the brig (he was even sitting on the floor for some reason), and snapped. “WHAT? Oh…Hashtag.” His wings relaxed a bit when he realized who it was, but then immediately tensed when he seemed to notice something else as well. “NOT helpful you slagging–ugh…” He muttered and pinched the bridge of his nose as he clenched his optics shut. “You shouldn’t be here. Go back to your siblings.” That part actually seemed to be directed at her, even if he seemed to be avoiding looking in her direction now.

Why did she keep having that feeling that he was talking to someone else?

Hashtag drifted deeper into the room towards the edge of his berth as she crossed her arms. “I think I’m good here, actually. Oooorrr, you could always come out of here with me, and do something way more fun than sitting there being weird.”

He went silent for a while. He kept being all twitchy, and when he finally opened his optics again he just stared blankly at something in the corner. When she sat down on the berth near him, Starscream skooched a bit away from her. He seemed to be having a heck of a time figuring out how to respond to that, with how hard he apparently needed to think about it. She couldn’t exactly tell if the fact that he wasn’t telling her off meant that he did in fact want her company or not.

Hashtag had gotten better at waiting though. Even if the suspense was killing her. She wanted to ask so many questions, get to the bottom of why he was acting so funky, but she also didn’t want to overwhelm him. When she was in anxiety mode, questions were definitely the last thing she’d want, after all.

“You don’t want me there. Admit it.” Starscream finally said quietly, only barely glancing in her direction. He sounded…sad.

“Don’t try and feed me lines Screamy, I’m the director around here,” She put a hand to her chest with dramatic flare, “and I in fact do want you there with us! Megs had his redemption arc, and I’m here for yours! We’ve been having a decent time hanging out these past couple weeks haven’t we? I will admit no such falsehoods! Even if you are still a bit of a jerk.”

Starscream dawned a somber smile. “Hah. Right…You know, you and Thundercracker would have been quite the pair to behold. He’d always adored script writing and those absurd novelas.” His wings spazzed again with a bit of lightning as he started tapping one of his digits. Something about that train of thought had his focus start to go into the abyss again.

Hashtag leaned a bit forward as she fiddled with her own servos. “Really? Who’s that? He sounds pretty cool!”

“Yes…” Starscream blinked after taking another long moment to elaborate. “He was Skywarp and I’s trinemate before Novastorm joined us from the Rainmakers. He was a strong, albeit sensitive, seeker. We did not always see optic to optic, but I suppose I could relent to the fact that he was certainly better at orchestrating dialogue. Even so, it was often idealistic or fantastical nonsense. Something I am sure you would’ve been enthralled by had you two been allowed such a partnership. He’d always dreamed of making something of his work after the war…” His expression had gone from detached to angry when another flit of those sparks went through him. He growled as his volume rose and his optics flashed red. “Of course, such frivolous slag could NEVER be allowed to come to fruition! Why would it?!”

Hashtag leaned back a bit, “Did something bad happen to him? Is he stuck on Cybertron or…?”

“He’s dead.”

“Oh.”

Silence.

Man. Hashtag really did NOT have the credentials for this. Should she just focus on being all positive about it? Change the topic? Or, giving condolences was usually the right response in these scenes.

“I-I’m sorry you lost your…” Was a trinemate kinda like family? “Brother? I would’ve loved to meet ‘im. Thundercracker sounds like he was a pretty awesome dude. Maybe I could dedicate a character to him someday! Is…that why you’re avoiding family time? It sounds like you miss him.”

“...No.”

Well that was a lie. Starscream was avoiding eye-contact again, and according to the internet, that was the biggest indicator someone’s lying. Plus, he still was all droopy like a wet cat. Maybe seeing Hashtag and her siblings hanging out together just made him feel bad about missing his own siblings. Skywarp had left him behind on that ship too after all–oh man he had fam issues. Is that what got him so upset?

But he kept tensing up like there was something else too. Now his eyes were…purple? The purple thing was DEFINITELY new.

Oh, now they’re back to blue–scrap they went red glitchy again! Now he’s covering his audials and muttering something. What the heck!

Geez, he’s shaking really bad now. Was it something she’d said? Was this some type of anxiety episode she was supposed to snap him out of? What was the best way to do that?? When she did a quick search, it just said to be a persistent, calm force. Don’t be pushy. Ask for permission to touch them. Oh! Remind them of their surroundings! Maybe she could reference the Seekerz poster that he ripped up? Or maybe he did it for trigger reasons…so that probably wouldn’t be a good idea.

Hashtag slowly disconnected from the berth to kneel down next to him, but not too close. “Hey…Just focus on my voice right now, okay? I don’t know what you’re hearing right now–if it’s a flashback or something–but we’re just in the bunker. We’re chillin’ on the floor in your room, and nothing crazy is going on. We can talk about something else if you want.”

Starscream abruptly threw his arm out to aim across the room as a surge of the lightning went through it. His servo retracted to channel the sketchy power into a blaster and shot an intense laser at the wall that, once he stopped blasting it, left a huge, smoldering hole. Wheeljack’s parole thing on his ped let out an EMP burst that made him recoil in on himself again with a startled yelp. A final shot from his servo flew past Hashtag’s helm before he managed to fix it back to normal.

“WOAH!” She dodged back in surprise at the sudden outburst.

He finally locked eyes with her again, and he looked horrified. Starscream fumbled away from her with the EMP blasted leg seeming to be offline now when he full-on fell backwards after trying to stand. “Get out.”

“What?” But she was trying to help! Why did this have to be so hard!? He obviously shouldn’t be alone right now, right?

“GET OUT!” Starscream actually aimed his gun arm at her as it was shaking and sparking wildly.

Hashtag shot up to her peds and put her servo’s up placatingly. “Hey! C’mon–”

Twitch sent her a message that popped across her visor: [Is everything alright over there?? What was that?! Are you okay?!]

She frantically sent back a response: [I’m fine! I think- Just give me a sec!]

“I know you don’t actually want me to leave–you’re in freakout mode, and that’s okay!” Hashtag tried to stay as still as possible and watched the blaster carefully in case he actually did shoot at her. “How about I just step out for a sec to grab a game we can play one on one or something? Y’know, get your mind off of whatever this is–do you like chess?? You seem like the kinda guy that likes chess.”

Starscream didn’t say anything else, and was just staring right through her. Creepy…He seemed to have a lot of space-out moments. Did he even hear what she said…?

Hashtag slowly began backing up towards the door. “I’ll be riiiight back. Just be cool. Okay? Yeah.” She flipped out her wheels and quickly rolled over back to her fam.

Twitch immediately flew up to check her over, “What happened?”

Bee was up and looking in Starscream’s direction as a shot of red lighting flew out and hit their skate ramp. “What’s with THAT?? Hashtag, you shouldn’t have gone over there without someone watching your back, what if–”

“GUYS. It’s okay! I got it.” Hashtag rolled past them to look for their bigger chess set. “He’s having a bit of a moment, but he wasn’t actually trying to hurt me or anything. It’s just that corruption junk or something.”

“Sweetie,” Mom started softly but her undertone was stern, “We don’t know enough about what the stone did to him, or how unstable that power is. You CAN’T put yourself in the line of fire like that. Leave him be and join us over here.”

Bee nodded, “You should listen to your mom, Hashtag. He already told me off, it’d be best to leave it alone for now.”

Hashtag moved aside their tic-tac-toe pieces and found the chess box. She hesitated there for a moment with her servos held firmly around its edges. Were they right? Should she just let it go? He did seem pretty upset…but that could be even more reason for her to go back in! She wasn’t afraid of him, she could handle it. He’d seemed way too freaked out about almost hitting her for him to actually want to hurt her directly.

Twitch hovered behind her, “Tag, you gave it a shot, and I know you really want to fix it, but it isn’t your responsibility to do that alone.”

Hashtag lifted the box and turned to pass her sister on her way back towards the seeker. “I know. And I’m not alone. You guys are still right here if anything actually happens, right? I’m sorry, but I really can’t just leave it and be fine with that. I’d just be thinking about it the whole time I’d be tryna play the games with you guys, and that wouldn’t be fun…So I was thinking I could try and bring game night to him! Just us so maybe it won’t be too overwhelming, but still have something to focus on. I might not be the best at chess, but it seemed like something he’d like more than the luck based things.”

“...That makes sense.” Mo nodded with a casual show of support. “Right mom? Maybe Starscream’s just a wacky introvert.”

Mom sighed. “Fine. I’m proud of you baby, but…just be careful.” Man, everyone keeps acting like Starscream was gonna rip out her spark or something. Hashtag was supposed to be the drama queen around here.

Bee also didn’t seem too thrilled, yet still seemed to understand as he hesitantly sat back down. “Call for backup as soon as there’s more of that lighting stuff. Alright?”

Hashtag flipped out her wheels again to roll backwards and give him a short salute, “Loud and clear!”

“Text me updates!” Twitch called with an extended servo as it was definitely taking a lot for her to let Hashtag go a second time without her.

“I will!” She sang back as she slid in front of Starscream’s doorway. It was sweet how much they were concerned for her, but also a bit silly. Second chances were all about giving that person the benefit of the doubt, but she still knew how to be careful. They had nothing to worry about.

Hashtag slowly entered the room again, popping back out her peds to ready herself just in case he reactively shot her way. Starscream had his servos to his helm again, and his non-booted ped was rapidly bouncing up and down like he was itching to get up and pace. He seemed to be trying to regulate his breathing and muttering different things about the room like those grounding techniques she had shown him. Huh…he actually did keep it in mind.

“Heyyy, it’s me again.”

His attention immediately whipped her way, but he hesitated like he was calculating what exactly he wanted to say. The fact that she could practically see the equations floating around his head, almost made her laugh. But this was definitely not the appropriate time for that, no matter how hilarious the image was.

Hashtag took the opportunity to creep up closer and sit down across from him as she set down the box. She opened it, and began setting it up with the black pieces on his side while she took white. It was not only kinda funny with the good-guy bad-guy coding, but also a sneaky way of stealing the first move. She’d need to teach him how to play anyway, so it also just made more sense that way.

Starscream was watching her every move closely. That was better than staring into the void. Then even though it really seemed like he wanted to say something–maybe apologize–he kept getting stuck somehow.

“Okay, so, the gist of this game is that you’re trying to take out your opponent's king before they get yours. First pawn can go two spaces forward, then they can only move one, and they attack diagonally. Rooks go in any straight line until they hit something. Knights do this weird L move. Bishops go diagonally until they hit something. The Queen can basically do literally anything the other pieces can. And the king can move any direction one space.” Hashtag picked up each piece to give a short display of their moves. “He’s more of the damsel in distress with his absolute unit of a kick butt queen! Then, if you completely lock someone in a death grip where there’s no way they can save their king, you call out Checkmate. There’s a bunch of gambits and stuff, but this is more of Nightshade and Twitch’s sort of game honestly. I like to play more casually than worrying about doing a research project for it. I already had to help Twitch with that once when she got WAY too into it. Then Nightshade just always wins. So I’m good at taking the loss if it’ll make you feel better.”

“You shouldn’t be concerned about “making me feel better”, Hashtag.” He finally said something. Starscream was looking down at the board as he took in the rules she’d just thrown at him. No more weird lightning. That was good.

“Well, deal with it.” She retorted casually as she shoved the empty box out of their way. “I know you wanna push everyone away and stuff ‘cause you think everyone’s gonna leave you first, but there will be none of that on my watch! Not everyone sucks, and you can figure out how to not suck too.”

“Hm. Fair enough.”

Hashtag moved her first pawn, “Your turn.”

He actually moved his knight first. Nightshade did that sometimes. She always thought that moving one of the middle pawns was better though. But maybe she was just biased.

They continued though the game silently for a while, then Hashtag got a ping from Twitch.

[You doing alright? How’s the game going?]

[Yeah we’re chill. I have no idea who’s winning rn lol. Wbu guys?]

[Bee, Dad and Mom are about to destroy us in Pictionary. Apparently they got adult sync mode on or something.]

[Looolll I don’t think that’s a thing. It’s probs mainly cuz Dad is so Bee obsessed that he has like, a plus five mod to his perception on anything Bee related.]

[That’s so unfair.]

“Fullstasis.” Starscream’s monotonous delivery snapped her from her visor conversation.

“What?”

“Checkmate. Whatever it is. Your…king, is cornered. On one side by this bishop, and the other by the rook behind your knight.”

She stared blankly at the board, “Aw dang it! How’d I not see that?!”

“You were distracted. Plus, I baited you to take my queen, which left you exposed.”

“What the heck man. Aaalllright fine, I’ll reset the board.”

[I’ll ttyl, he already checkmated me somehow, you tellin me about unfair]

[lol, maybe he cheated when you weren’t looking.]

Hashtag rolled her eyes and minimized her chat bubble. She would have noticed him cheating. Maybe…No, she definitely would have. She hadn’t been THAT distracted.

Once the pieces were back in their original places, she moved the same pawn she did the first time. It might seem silly, but unleashing the queen from her pawn-y prison always took priority in Hashtag’s book. Besides, that pawn was obviously the main character, destined to reach the other side on their mission to be the queen's successor should she fall in battle for her king. A thrilling narrative could easily take the bored out of any board game.

Alas, as soon as the brave pawn reached their goal and was set to avenge the queen’s untimely demise, they were struck down by the dark king’s cursed knight. She made their death scene as dramatic as possible, of course. Lifting them up and down from their final square as they reached for the heavens.

“This will not be the last you see of ME! I will rise again as many times as it takes to defeat you, not even death will keep me from taking my revenge!”

Starscream chuckled, “Oh, I am counting on it.”

“Pff, you’ve had better monologues than that.” Hashtag placed the briefly royal pawn to the side, and moved her rook to take his bishop.

“Please. I wasn’t even attempting to supply one. Couldn’t such a rivalry between your odd characters be far more interesting if neither truly wanted it to end?” He took her rook with a pawn. Worth it. That bishop was being far too shady.

She shrugged as she moved another one of her own pawns in an effort to defend. “I guess so. But it’d have to end at some point, no story can go on forever. Ooo, maybe it’d be an enemies to lovers arc!”

“Eugh. No.” He moved his knight to some really weird spot that didn’t seem like it was going to do anything.

“It’d be glorious! It’s like the soulmate trope, where they’re destined to meet and stuff, but instead they’re locked in a reincarnation loop! They’re bound to get over whatever got them mad at each other eventually.” She swooped down her bishop in a position ready to take down his king.

He immediately canceled her plot with some stupid rook from the other side of the board. “That’s absurd.”

“Okay, fun police. Fantasy doesn’t have to be realistic, Screamy.” Hashtag kicked over his rook with her knight.

Starscream stared at the board for a long time, before finally moving his queen in range of her king and announcing, “Checkmate.” Again.

“You are way too good at this game for being a noob.”

“Its base principals are actually quite similar to Fullstasis. Skyfire and I used to play any chance we could.” He actually began resetting the pieces himself this time. “So I suppose I am not as inexperienced as you first thought. Surely you have merely been holding back on me.”

“Yeeaaah, tooootally! I’m DEFINITELY going to get you this round, just you watch me!” She was so going to lose. Hashtag had thought that she’d at least be on a more even playing field since it was his first time, but of course he just had to have Cybertronian chess stuff with whoever Skyfire was. They were probably a Decepticon and they played it for war strategies, or something stupidly serious like that with how much of a stiff he was.

The next game went on ridiculously similar to the last two, and it looked like it was going to end the same way. Until Starscream suddenly said she won. That his king was doomed and he was no match for her full power. That didn’t make any sense. How did he notice she won before she did? That wasn’t how it was supposed to work! Did he…LET her win? Usually he hated losing.

Hashtag confidently accepted his proclamation of her awesomeness. She wasn’t going to call him out on it. Yet it was adorable to think how much of a softy the Decepticon actually was.

A bunch more games passed by with a few close-ish ones, him destroying her, then letting her win others. When suddenly, all the squares aligned as she called out checkmate, and he looked surprised. He actually stared at the board with what looked to be unadulterated disbelief this time, and she started to get worried that he was about to get mad and flip the board or something. But then he laughed, and congratulated her in a far more genuine way than his theatrical applause from before. Like he was proud of her. Wow.

He really was just a big ball of mush under all that ridiculous, evil mastermind scrap after all.

Chapter Text

These past quartexs had been…odd. To put it lightly.

The data cycling through Starscream’s processor was filled with strange, corrupted files that he couldn’t seem to access, aided by far too many painful memories to quantify. Although, in the past deca-cycle with the Maltos, he’d found himself remembering, or even creating, more pleasant events.

The Malto brats could actually be…rather endearing. Of course, Hashtag was always his favorite. Anyone who said they didn’t favor a particular individual within a group was flatly a liar, a tactic which he could of course appreciate; since he’d only admit his favoritism blatantly to Hashtag herself, after all. She had by far the best style of spunk about her, as she easily dealt out smooth bouts of sass paired with her equally patient and excitable nature. Her strong determination when decided upon a task, was admirable, even. Hashtag would have made a great Decepticon! Although he supposed that…wouldn’t be a compliment to her.

Even so, after their more recent moments of “hanging out”, Hashtag had begun to cease her guarded posture that she had carried so often before. Only seldomly would he glimpse her shielding her chestplate protectively in that strange way Twitch or the human brats occasionally did as well. But it had become easier to get her back in a better mood as she seemed more comfortable with his presence. Something about that fact made a long smothered flame flicker within Starscream’s tired spark.

He enjoyed seeing her happy, making her laugh, even at his own expense. Surely this foolish behavior was only to lull those fools into thinking him passive enough to grant him more freedom. He didn’t…he couldn’t care. It was far too risky to allow such a thing. Regardless, he still felt as if he owed Hashtag something, and wanted to be in her good graces. So many of the others here just fawned over Megatron. Was it too much to hope for his own fan for once? A feisty little student who would admire and stand by his side! He certainly didn’t need such a thing, but it would be…useful. Yes, that was the extent of it…

Hashtag was always quite the helpful young femme, even when some of her ill Earth gotten mannerisms or quips could be confusing. At least with that “Chess” game, it was just similar enough to Fullstasis that for a moment he felt even minutely connected to Cybertron again from all these lightyears away. Perhaps he could attempt to use that Chess to recreate Fullstasis so that he could share the superior game with her! Starscream could simply rotate the square-ish board on its side to be the correct diamond orientation, and modify the Chess pieces to reflect their counterparts. A “bishop” was nearly identical to a quarg in how it moved. Similarly with a vig to a “rook”. Although she might be disappointed that the King’s counterpart had far more offensive capabilities, while the Queen’s was defensive. Sure, one could skew their strategy either way, but that was typically the more popular approach. Even if Skyfire had often only buried his Pvaq in the corner while using the Staiv as a living shield leading the wall of mykns; which he’d always defend stubbornly when Starscream had teased him for it. Those matches had always carried on for groons of a painfully slow back and forth with both of them insisting the other conceded. That ridiculous shuttle had been more content with a stalemate than subjecting himself to yet another loss at Starscream’s blatantly superior tactical prowess. Perhaps Starscream should have relented more victories to him as he’d done Hashtag…

That doesn’t matter now.

Now, he had been given the task of collecting those fruits spawned from the stalky perennials plainly labeled “Apple Trees”, stationed around the perimeter of the cow containment field. Initially, he had assumed the pristine condition of those apples he gathered was irrelevant as long as they weren’t a crushed mess upon the ground. Yet apparently, as he was later corrected, it was important to examine them with more scrutiny to determine whether there were any pests infecting them, or blemishes that would need to be severed at a later date. The defective fruit was set to go to their lower class animals, while they kept the better portion for themselves. That ungrateful cow shouldn’t have made such a fuss when he’d attempted to liberate it. Then maybe that blasted bug wouldn’t have noticed, and it could have foraged its own, high quality fuel, instead of settling for scraps.

Regardless, the squishy, oddly shaped fruits were strange to imagine as a means of fueling the humans’ fleshy frames. Skyfire never liked the idea of dissection, with how squeamish the soft-sparked mech was, although Starscream couldn’t help but be a byte curious of their internal functions. Yet the memory of those G.H.O.S.T parasites, and their similar interest towards Cybertronians, made that train of interest falter. At least, until a violet spark flickered with the revelation at what glorious revenge it would be if he could get his servos on one of those wretched humans to take them apart as well.

Starscream chuckled darkly at the thought, with a fleeting image of those disgusting human organs arranged across a steel table.

Then, Hashtag’s voice cut through his ruminations. “Whatcha thinkin’ about there Spaceman?”

Starscream’s optical ridge furrowed as a look of disgust came to his faceplace that he couldn’t shield from entering his vocalizer. “What did you just call me?”

“What, Spaceman? It’s perfect right?” She strained to reach one of the apples on a hidden branch and flipped it into a crate. “I’ve been tryna think about more nicknames for you than just Screamer. Starship’s a fun one, but not goofy enough. I mean, sure I could also just go with Star as a different shortened version like how my siblings call me Tag, buuuut Spaceman is just funnier. You should've seen the look on your face!”

Starscream rolled his optics and scoffed with a grin. “If we are tossing around such absurdities, perhaps I should title you Hashslag.”

“Yoooo that sounds like a fire wrestler name!!”

“No it–”

Hashtag began making ridiculous poses as if flexing her physical prowess. “Hashslag comes into the ring and DEMOLISHES the competition! The undisputed champion that’ll uh–” She paused a moment to search their internet for assistance in her speech– “throw melted slag chairs at her enemies!!”

“You are quite proficient at twisting things to your advantage, aren’t you?” Even if Starscream had meant it as a minor jab in retaliation to her stupid Spaceman mockery–she had immediately translated it towards describing what she’d inflict upon her enemies, as opposed to a reflection of her capabilities. Decepticon material indeed.

Hashtag’s grin widened, “Of course! ‘Cause I’m awesome! And that could be a great stage name! Maybe I’ll even use it as my gamer tag actually–”

Now that was too much. If she confidently proclaimed such a stupid title to the world, she’d be far too susceptible to the petty scorn of her opponents.

“You are NOT identifying yourself as Hashslag.” Starscream ordered with crossed arms and a stern glare. “Your designation in such an environment should command respect, and THAT would be just as easily skewed against your character.”

“How?”

He put a servo to his faceplate in exasperation for her naivety. “Slag refers to the waste matter produced when refining or smelting ore. I am sure you found the definition with your abilities, but it is a commonly derogatory term when directed towards someone. In many ways. If you are a slagger, then you are an extremely low member of society and considered inept. If you call someone a lump of slag, it is comparing them to something useless. Sure, it can be used threateningly when proclaiming you will annihilate them so completely that only slag will remain; but pairing it with a portion of your designation will only allow those around you an easy pathway towards mockery. You cannot believe I was serious about such a title as that. It was clearly a joke. No one would take you seriously with that name.”

Hashtag put her servos up and allowed them to then fall heavily in frustration. “Okay okay! I get it. You were trying to be mean and whatever–”

“Wait- no, I wasn't– ugh scrap…”

Suddenly her expression turned to a mischievous smirk as she turned back to gathering more apples with a laugh. “Nah I know you were just being a goofball. But I gotta admit I’m a bit jealous. How come Spitfire gets such a cute nickname and I don’t? I might even be a bit offended!” She paired her last statement with an overly dramatic tone and servo to her chestplate that could have been mimicking his own manner of mock hurt.

“What, Sprite? That is only a title referencing her small stature paired with her typically sassy nature.”

“Aww, not that she’s sweet like the popular soda brand?” She snickered, “I guess that tracks. She’s actually way rude.”

Starscream scoffed as he attempted to focus on the ridiculous apple gathering task again, “Yes, that would hardly be fitting. What even is this “soda brand” you speak of?”

Hashtag whipped out her datapad and trotted up to him with a sparkle in her optics, apparently finding amusement in the topic. “It’s this carbonated sugar water with mysterious “natural flavors” and citric acid made by the big wig Coca Cola company!” She pulled up a string of images displaying an array of bottles and cans detailing a green logo with the Sprite title. Then changed her keywords in the search bar to procure images placing the strange beverage alongside other odd products. “It’s sold everywhere! Like in stores, which we aren’t allowed in–or fast food!! We can go through drive-thrus with Mo and Robby on the way back from school sometimes to get stuff! Wacky D’s is their favorite.”

Starscream leaned closer while squinting his optics in an attempt to acquire a better view of the ridiculous stream of advertisements for disgusting human fuelling varieties. He took the datapad from her to scroll through the panels of information himself, which she again seemed to find humorous for whatever reason as he hummed in thought. After a couple kliks of analysis, he came upon an image displaying a “breakfast deal duo” which showed that Sprite thing, as well as its orange and red mirrored counterpart titled “Fanta” that made him think of Twitch. But even more hilariously, was the particular item between them that was referred to as a “Hashbrown”. It was indeed brown, and frankly looked horrid. He had no idea why anyone would put it in their intake–but the fact that it shared the same prefix as Hashtag was too perfect to pass up. If she wanted a nickname tied to Sprite’s, she could get one comically linked to her foolish misinterpretation.

He passed the datapad back into her servos and pointed at the items with a smirk. “If THAT atrocity is Sprite, then I suppose you would be this hashbrown slag.” Starscream’s wings fluttered in amusement at the absurdity as he turned to move aside one full crate of apples for an empty one to take its place.

Hashtag paused a moment before looking his way with squinted optics of her own skeptically. “While Hashbrown sounds adorable–why do I get the feeling that it isn’t actually that wholesome coming from you?”

Starscream chuckled at the sight of her silly little scrunched faceplate. “Perhaps not. It isn’t nearly as reprehensible as Hashslag, yet I fail to see why humans would even want to purchase those disgusting products. Therefore I'd certainly say Hashbrown is ridiculous enough that it just might stick if you insist upon calling me Spaceman.”

Hashtag tossed an already bruised apple at him, which he easily blocked with a raise of his arm, as she too began to crack up about the prospect. “Oh yeah! What about I call you Starry instead? Or would that be too cutesy for Mr. Tough Bot?”

“Ugh, pass.” Starscream waved a servo as if dusting the horrid alternative from an imaginary shelf. “In all practicality, if you truly must decide upon some means of a secondary designation for me, then I may allow you to simply call me Star. That is “what my friends call me”, you could say.” More accurately, what Skyfire had called him. “It is more customary to select a shortened version of your companions true designation. Like how you are more commonly called Tag by your siblings. As you had previously stated yourself. Or referring to Bumblebee as Bee, and Elita-1 as simply Elita.”

Hashtag tilted her helm slightly in thought as she struggled to decide which crate the apple she picked belonged in. “Hmm… alright fine. I guess that works.”

Scrap. Now she seemed bored, or even a bit disappointed.

“Although…” Starscream drawled as he tried to think of what in particular she could be looking for, since this apparently held more meaning to her than he’d initially thought. “If I were to bestow you with a more…creative, alternative to your designation–I suppose I could call you Amethyst. Most obviously because of your violet paint resembling the quartz’s hue, but also because it can be a symbol of beauty in impurities. Because of course, the fact that it gets its color from the presence of iron ions within its structure, that would then oxidize when exposed to radiation. Thus it is a rather inspirational gem, and could be worn to ward off negative energy. Such a thing that was far more popular in Caminus, but still quite interesting from a scientific perspective when studying the geology of varying celestial constructs regardless.”

Hashtag grinned as her spunk returned, “Man, I never would have expected you’d be a rock nerd–Wait! Let me figure out what gem you’d be!” Her optics went white as streams of color coded data flowed across them, until an image appeared on her visor that she then transferred to her datapad. “Found one! Some Pietersite can be red and blue like you! This one looks really cool with a gold streak too–And! Apparently it's considered a tempest stone, and a protective talisman that’d cleanse negative energies and emotional turmoil! Actually, maybe you could use some of that, huh?” She smirked and nudged him playfully with her elbow before continuing to poke his shoulder plating with her digits. “Right? You totally need some gem action to get those warm and fuzzies past your bad boy exterior. And you could call yourself the Tempest Protector! That would SO be your awesome wizard name if you played D&D with us.”

“Hm.” Starscream lightly waved her insistent digits off of him before tipping a servo in consideration of the prospect. “I suppose Pietersite could be marginally appropriate. Although I’ve always thought of myself as more of a Carnelian–but what is this “D&D” you speak of?”

“Ooooooooh I’m SO glad you asked!” She was suddenly practically vibrating at the anticipation as she searched something else on her datapad, and motioned for him to take a seat under the trees with her. “I have to show you all my favorite youtube channels and podcasts and–Oh my gosh there’s just so many awesome things about it! I am of course the designated DM when we play, since I’m a master of storytelling! But I’m getting ahead of myself–first, I can introduce you to the classes by bingeing A Crap Guide to D&D! Because it’s hilarious and carries ALL the vibes. THEN I can show you SoOkayHerestheThing shorts, and Legends of Avantris, and Tales from the Stinky Dragon, and The Chaos Protocol, and–”

She went on and on for so long that Starscream almost began to regret asking. Almost. As even through the copious amounts of scrap being dumped his way, and how easy it could be to tune out, he’d admit it was actually rather interesting. Even the humor was occasionally comprehensible, and he was once again reminded of how similar Hashtag could be to Thundercracker.

She showed him countless videos about the extensive background and absurdities rampant in this “Dungeons and Dragons”. In a way, it reminded him of when TC would construct an elaborate script and extravagant scenes, only for Starscream and Warp to interject their own additions and deviations. It was ironic thinking of the role a Dungeon Master was supposed to hold as the realm’s god, while the surrounding players could so easily meld, meddle, and masacre their power with complex combinations or inane side quests. Although he supposed if Hashtag was the DM, he would need to dial back such schemes. In fact, if any of the others even dared to derail the objective of her creation he would eldritch blast them into submission! Now if it were Bumblebee…it was far too amusing to tick that bug’s gears to not toy with him a little. Alas, Hashtag said he wasn’t a fan of the game when he’d given it a single shot upon their insistence. Starscream would have to drag that coward into it the next time he could, so he’d at least have one player he could shamelessly terrorize amongst a party of sparklings.

Hashtag’s presentation this time had far exceeded the one about that Hatsune Miku character. Nearing the end, Starscream still felt the urge to acquire one of these rule books himself for all those intricate calculations that she simply couldn’t properly appreciate with how her processor was wired. Not in some attempt to fall into the position of a Dungeon Master himself…as previously stated, it seemed DM’s were far too easily overruled. Although perhaps he could call that a skill issue on the part of others. Starscream could surely do better. He’d rule the world of his magistery with a script so perfect that there simply wouldn’t be any possibility of petty posterings of improvement; or any chance of challenging his direction with whatever absurd bardic tricks notoriously plagued the community!

Starscream had begun doing a bit of research on his own after Hashtag offered her datapad to him again. While she accessed her own content remotely, and occasionally shared other random recordings she came across. There were far too many depicting Earth dogs.

Eventually, he noticed she had seemed to be sending messages to her”fam”, as she’d done during their Chess games. Then, Hashtag flicked the silent conversation away to turn to him with a more serious tone about her. That was…unnerving. Surely they wouldn’t try to use her against him somehow. She was obviously just utilizing some sort of dramatic build up for something inconsequential. It was fine. What could she possibly be gearing to ask him that could really require this much apprehension?

“Soo…” Hashtag lingered on the word as Starscream kept his optics trained on the datapad. “Since we’re uh, y’know, chill, and stuff right now. YOU seem pretty chill, right? Yeah–So I uh, I’ve been wanting to ask about…some stuff. Like maybe your reasons for the insane junk you did for and with the corrupted Emberstone, oooorr…what exactly is up with the chaos glitches you’ve had since. I feel like those are some pretty big things we should talk about. Especially when one of those problems is very much ongoing haha…” She chuckled nervously as she fiddled with her servos.

Ah. This again. Questions around his interaction with the fragmented stone had of course come up with Megatron and Bumblebee, but this seemed a byte different. Starscream wasn’t entirely certain in what way. Maybe it was only because of who it was this time. When the topic had come up with Hashtag previously, it was less about questions and more about venting her frustration. So what sort of explanation would she be looking for? He could go into great detail of his brilliant scheme for New Cybertron and its tragic outcome–but he wasn’t about to roll that dice on how well that would be received after last time. Then she also wanted information regarding his…glitches. That was certainly far too complicated. Especially when he wasn’t even truly sure of the details himself.

Starscream tapped his digit against the datapad a moment before lowering it to glance Hashtag’s direction with a practiced grin and straightening of his wings. “Now why should that be important? We were having a bit of fun, weren’t we? Why spoil that with a topic that is obviously causing you distress by even proposing it?” He offered her datapad back into her restless servos. “Dwelling on such things is silly, don’t you think?”

Hashtag hesitantly took back the tablet, and he hated that her bubbly demeanor was being tainted by her ridiculous insistence on committing to this course of conversation. “No. Star. It’s not.” She said firmly with a stubborn fire in her optics where, for a moment, he saw Skyfire in her place. Even the poorly concealed hurt in her vocalizer that could have only been placed there in an effort to manipulate him into cracking some sort of confession. “I just need some part of this to make sense. In stories, whether professional or a passion project with friends, things always have some sort of reason for why they happen. Even if it seems silly, or excessive, there’s always an explanation, and they’re supposed to end with a satisfying conclusion. But it’s not like YOU have a character sheet for me to reference when you do weird scrap! So I-I guess– I dunno I just wanna know what’s really going on here. That I AM making the right choice by giving you a chance. ‘Cause I still feel like we have a bit of that stuff around…lack of control…in common. But I don’t want to have to keep feeling bad about liking hanging out with you.”

“Well of course you like hanging out with me,” Starscream boasted with a servo to his chassis, “I’m an absolute delight to be around!”

She laughed, but it was dim, and her posture was again far too guarded. “Stop trying to dodge the question, Spaceman.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Hashbrown.” He smirked at her with a spun lilt to the ridiculous name that he hoped would bring that light back into her optics.

Yet she only rolled them with a grin, “Pff. Sure. C’mon. I’m not dumb–”

“I never said you were.” He hurriedly assured her. “Far from it! You are the brightest amongst your siblings in fact! Did I mention that you’re my favorite–”

“Stop-stop–” Hashtag interjected while standing and waving her servos. “Please just at least tell me about what the Corrupted Emberstone did to you. We have to trust each other. Whatever is going on seems really dangerous, and we can’t just act like it’s fine, or like, normal crazy. Y’know? It almost made you shoot my head off, Star. I know that couldn’t have been you! I have to know that wasn’t you…”

“It wasn’t! It–”

Crimson crashed his optics as static blazed across his processor. And he couldn’t remember. What was the name of that blasted creature he’d been aiming for?

Then, Starscream’s wings twitched stiffly in tandem with the smooth strings of lightning he could faintly feel flitting across them. A servo that he’d apparently lifted to his burning optic, slipped from his faceplate as he slowly stood and placed it behind him instead. Then, words were pulled from his voice box before he could even think to ask Hashtag to reiterate her question.

“It was just as you said, little Terran. A glitch. That inverted Emberstone left a sort of echo that was only further ingrained while I was stuck inside that Titan. The chaotic force it possessed was simply not compatible with my systems, even if it sustained me through the lack of Energon available in isolation. Just like how Energon itself interacts with a human. Sure, it can give incredible surges of energy and empower certain…upgrades, but it is also quite damaging in the long term. It’s an inconvenience, but nothing particularly serious, I assure you.”

Something about that wasn’t right.

There was a pause for far too long as he felt sick.

Starscream could barely hear Hashtag’s response over the static.

“...I’m not sure I believe you. Your optics aren’t...Are you having one of the glitch episodes right now?”

“Only a minor one. And you can have full confidence that I spoke nothing but the truth. I would never lie to my favorite Terran.” Starscream’s vocalizer danced across the final statement in a way that felt as if he were mocking himself, while placing a servo to her shoulder. It was laughable he could have any amount of fondness for her.

Lightning shot to the servo connecting with her frame as his digits clenched against her plating, and she pushed away. “You’re being REALLY creepy right now!”

Everything went black. If only for a nano-klick, that felt like groons. Weightless, with that familiar pressure. But he couldn’t think straight.

Suddenly he was torn from wherever he’d been, and thrown back into place. Just before the correct optics came online in his helm, he heard a collection of rattling voices all at once. Although they were more of a feeling than words.

Don’t mess this up.

Starscream stumbled and attempted to use the tree in place of his faulty stabilizers, but it cracked, and fell with him. His optics recalibrated rapidly to the light. While he blanked lied on the grass. Trying to remember where he was.

“Euuuhgh…” He squinted to crispin the violet silhouette hovering over him. Then slowly sat up and tried to give her a grin, and chuckled in a way that probably wasn’t all that reassuring. “Sorry about the…tree there, Amethyst. I…slipped. Remind me…what were we talking about?”

Hashtag’s faceplate scrunched as she hesitated, then swiftly stomped over to inspect his optics. Odd. Then she sighed heavily as she slumped to the ground beside him. “Now I’m MORE confused.”

“About…?”

She dug her helm into her knees and groaned, “What about our conversation do you remember?”

That was a strange question.

“We discussed alternative designations, and quite a lot about that D&D that we definitely decided we were going to play instead of that other ridiculous excuse for a “game night”. Then you decided to ruin our fun by bringing up Emberstone drama. Right? And something about the fun repercussions I’ve been experiencing, that somehow gifted you with guilt on the matter, I suppose. Which is ridiculous by the way.” His files started to get corrupted again after she’d mentioned his near miss while trying to blast that abomination’s smug faceplate. Hashtag still had a cringed expression. Had he gotten it wrong? His memory couldn’t be the problem here, so what was? The aching in his helm didn’t help with any of this.

“Yeah…and you were uh…telling me what sorta stuff goes on during your glitches. Like…do you see anything when your eyes go all red?”

He couldn’t admit to that. They already kept thinking he was insane. Besides, he knew those things weren’t real, so it didn’t matter.

“No! No…Wait, do you mean as in hallucinations or just visual distortion?”

“Both…?”

“Well I can see just fine.” Starscream stood and attempted to salvage what apples he could from the downed tree to perhaps draw her attention to the more present predicament. “It’s nothing I can’t handle! You didn’t actually get hurt regarding that fleeting instance the other night, right? These glitches, as you call them, pass quickly enough.”

“But it’s–Oh my gosh…” Hashtag ran her servo down her faceplate. “I guess if you really want to insist on it not being a big deal, I’ll drop it, FOR NOW.” She pointed a digit at him after having stood up to pace. “You NEED to get better at telling us stuff though! It doesn’t help anyone hiding things, even if it’s hard to talk about. Plus I…it’s not just about you, Star. I hate having to be on edge around you all the time. I want to be able to really trust you after everything. But when you do creepy stuff like whatever THAT was that you APPARENTLY just forgot in 60 seconds, or don’t want to tell me what’s going on, or don’t give me any amount of context for why you’re being weird–I’m left to think the worst of it! This isn’t easy for me…and I’m tired of any time we ARE having fun together being tainted by everything else. I know that you can be a softy and a great teacher. But I also know that you’re still a scheming Decepticon, that I can never tell if whatever plot you have is for a good, or bad surprise. I thought I understood what was going on in your head before, but after what all went down with the corrupted Emberstone…I don’t know how much I can trust myself on that anymore. So all I’m asking from you, is a bit of proof that you aren’t trying to hide something to hurt my family that you’d just claim is fine because the laser gun wasn’t actually aimed directly at me.”

Starscream allowed the last apple to fall into the crate before he rested his servo on its edge. That was…a lot, and he was certainly not an expert at navigating all these intricate emotions these kids seemed to learn from the Autobots. He was supposed to find some way to relate to her struggle to receive it in the correct way, according to Bumblebee. The only primary connection he could make was her concern regarding stressing over the worst outcome. But then what could he say to mitigate the situation? Only stating that he wasn’t planning anything against them, would likely be unbelievable and unsatisfactory. He’d had plenty of ruminations against her annoying collective countless times after all; although in significantly less quantity or severity in recent times. Then, he wasn’t certain he trusted himself on such things either. So if HE wasn’t confident in his own intentions, how was he supposed to convince her?! This was impossible…

Then again, one thing he could assure her of was in fact regarding the glitches. He wasn’t hiding the intricacies of its effects for some sort of sinister purpose. It was far more out of concern that they’d perceive him in an even lower sight at the information. He didn’t want to take that risk…especially with Hashtag. Yet it seemed he was doomed either way.

Starscream in-vented heavily as his wings fell to spite him through the anxious knot in his tank. “Alright, I get that I’m not exactly the most trustworthy mech around, but I…I’ve actually started to appreciate this opportunity. A little bit. It can still be extremely aggravating and I will admit I’ve fantasized about blowing up the place on multiple occasions–But! I wouldn’t actually do that! Anymore…” He chuckled and attempted to get himself back on track before it derailed any further. “Regardless, I promise that I’m not hiding anything of that nature. I’ve only ever used the apparent offensive capabilities of the curse for…retaliatory means.”

Hashtag crossed her arms. “Like against something you totally weren’t hallucinating the other day?”

“Yeeesss…about that…” Starscream tapped his digits together as he struggled to find the correct phrasing. “I keep having odd visions of…” Why couldn’t he get his vocalizer to work out Meridian’s blasted designation? “That human from before who stole the Emberstone for his mass murder machine. He is an extremely annoying little pest, as I am sure you can imagine. Paired with the curse’s occasional enhancement of my more violent impulses, is not exactly favorable. And as you’ve already figured out, I had been attempting to fire upon that stupid spector my processor has been projecting in an increased intensity since my exit from the Titan–or–Terratronus’ helm. I’ve gotten better at ignoring him, but sometimes it’s…difficult.”

“So you DO see things? Is…” Hashtag paused for a moment as if scrapping a lingering thought. “Are you talking about Mandroid?”

A short spazz of the lightning shot through Starscream’s frame, but he ignored it and snapped his digits together before pointing one in her direction. “Yes! The most infuriating aspect of him constantly plaguing me is the fact that I can’t incinerate him on sight. Then I will also admit that the lapses in memory aren't new. This blasted curse has left many of my files corrupted somehow. Even so, it is not as if these things have left me dysfunctional. I can still operate just fine. Besides, any attempt I’ve made to explain it has…” Another flit of electricity flocked to his frustration at the ordeal. “Would I really be that much of a coward if I said that I just didn’t want to deal with it?! You all already think me some sort of lunatic! Forgive me if I assumed an admission of my apparent insanity wouldn’t be beneficial to my chances of proving otherwise!”

Hashtag’s optics were wide, but her posture was looser. “Yeah…I guess that makes sense…” Then she approached him to put a servo to his arm for some reason as she looked at his own servo, which she’d slowly pulled down from its aerial position. “Thank you for telling me, and I don’t blame you for wanting to ignore that stuff. I know how horrible it is to have Mandroid in your head.” She looked up into his optics in a way that once again made him see Skyfire for a fraction of a nano-klick. “And this sounds way too much like when the creep was all up in my circuits with his dumb device before, but with like, a different level of jank. You have to ask Wheeljack, or Optimus, or–I dunno! Just-this seems more serious than just normal hallucinations if your files are getting corrupted. Plus what happened earlier was…We really need to figure out what’s going on with this. I don’t want it to make you do something worse…”

He hadn’t thought of that. It wasn’t as if it could control him to that extent. Could it? Well it wasn’t as if he could remember the data needed to answer that question.

A small scoff escaped Starscream’s intake as he drifted away from Hashtag’s grip, which she held as long as he could, like his frame would destabilize as soon as she let go. “I doubt they could be of any help on the matter. Wheeljack has already done plenty rooting around in my circuits, and has already stated his inexperience with processor damage. That Prime can only claim to be an expert on his Matrix of Leadership slag. What befell the Emberstone was an unprecedented catastrophe that would require far more research to decode the extent of its warped nature. And I am not particularly keen on being a test subject for such things…”

Hashtag wrapped her arms around her chassis again, which made his spark ache in that odd way it seldom did. “Could you at least give it a shot…? I am still going to let the others know what you told me, and it’d be better to try something than nothing. I can come with you, if you’re scared of medical exam stuff or something.”

“Please. Me, afraid of something as silly as that?” Starscream laughed and attempted to brighten the mood as he stacked her crates along with his for easier transportation. “Don’t be ridiculous. If it will ease your silly concerns, I’ll do it. Even if the idea of being crammed into that blasted trailer again for the trip is sure to remind me how much I miss my missiles again.”

Hashtag’s smile returned as she relaxed a little, and followed him to pick up a pair of crates to bring to the barn. “Pff, alright, I’ll talk to Bee about it. I’m sure it won’t be that bad. And you never know, maybe since we’ll actually have a bit of an idea of what we’re checking for, we could get at least a little bit of a better idea of how to go about dealing with it.”

“Don’t get your hopes up there, Amethyst.”

“Oh I’ll send you all the good vibes I want, Pietersite. I’m that inspiration gem after all!”

“Hah, I suppose you’re right.”

They soon moved on from the topic as they met up with the rest of the Maltos, who’d completed their own little portion of the chores. Although he later noticed Tag pulled Bumblebee aside to discuss it, he could worry about what that whole ordeal would entail when it came to it. As long as he didn’t have to run into Megatron for such a thing, he didn’t care. To make sure of that, he made certain to inform Dorothy of the situation as well. Since the human had wanted to extend her mediator standing after all.

These odd occurrences surrounding Quintus’ curse could be sorted out in no time! It wasn’t as if the Emberstone even existed anymore, anyway, and what remained of its original power was now within those cyber sleeves held by Tag’s human siblings. Such an effect as he’s found himself with, was likely only some form of ailment caused by his exposure to the rampant power lingering inside the Titan for all that time. It’d surely lull into obscurity with time.

Although perhaps, now he too was getting too hopeful.

Chapter Text

Starscream found himself pacing, with his servos tied neatly under his wings. A particular line of wear on the path he trailed was becoming apparent, but that wasn’t the focus of his thoughts. Once he halted in front of that cartoonish poster–displaying Megatron’s hilariously humiliating state being tossed across that ravine–Starscream pulled a servo to rest thoughtfully beneath his chin. What were that Nightshade Terran's genuine thoughts of him?

They had arranged this room, been the first to seem enthusiastic at the start of all this, and listened to Starscream’s combat teachings with earnest; but that did nothing to give him a clear concept of their true thoughts. They said they wanted this redemption scheme to go well. They played nice quite skillfully. But was that only for some sake of their peers? Do they have a vision of their own for what will become of this ordeal? Nightshade is a scientist in their own right, and that can be a dangerous intuition.

Perhaps they’d agreed for Starscream to be in such close proximity in their own pursuit of research regarding the Emberstone, and was interested in his powers that had resulted. Sure, the kid had been oddly distanced for the majority of his stay. Nightshade seldom instigated interactions apart from that initial need for feedback. Although that did not mean this room organized by their design was not rigged top to bottom with sensors and cameras so expertly hidden that even Starscream could not expose them. They could have even conspired with Wheeljack with something embedded in the cursed device upon Starscream’s ped at this very moment.

The other Maltos appeared extraordinarily transparent with their opinions towards him. They were all quite ridiculously easy to read, even if it still didn’t always make it easier to predict how they wished Starscream to behave on certain matters; which was frustrating. Yet Nightshade was suspiciously passive about it all. They’d only nod along with their siblings, and merely stare on occasion. Any comments were relatively brief, which Starscream was starting to find…unfortunate. He was curious about that odd Terran and their potential. Now that he and Hashtag seemed to be on acceptable terms again, perhaps it would be pertinent to branch out with other connections. Especially with the arguably second most likely Decepticon amongst them.

Starscream chuckled a byte to himself as he broke away from the poster towards the room’s exit. They all thought this redemption slag was to get him on THEIR side? Ridiculous. He was slowly recruiting them to rebuild HIS armada, right under their foolish gaze. Starscream would have them eating out of his servos in no time.

Yes, he was quite confident now. Meridian’s mocking tone held no relevance. Starscream was most certainly on track to convincing them of how impressive, inspirational, and indisposable he was! It was not as if Bumblebee held any useful knowledge to pass upon the fliers of their group. They needed him, really. Those other ungrateful slaggers that left him behind would regret it when he replaced them just as easily.

Starscream exited his quarters and surveyed his surroundings. In surprising convenience, Nightshade seemed to be the only one remaining after the others had sent to the surface on their exploratory exploits. The only other Malto present was their femme mentor, Dorothy; who was sitting at one of those miniscule balcony tables on a tiny computer, typing away. Her schedule he’d logged in his files stated it was most likely business in line with her duty as a Park Ranger. Although, she typically ventured elsewhere for her station, so this behavior was more indicative of her inclination to remain at base as a supervisor. This was proven accurate as the moment Starscream’s precise ped steps tapped a light echo across the cavern walls, she looked his way. He ignored her presence. Instead, Starscream continued on his path with the intent of inspecting the project Nightshade was working on, to obtain whatever data he could on the kid, and ideally come to a satisfactory conclusion regarding his pestering curiosities.

Starscream set his servos professionally under his wings again, as he lightly leaned around Nightshade’s shoulder to peer at the split spherical device sitting partially disassembled on their workspace. “What is it you are tinkering with, Nightshade?”

“Oh!” They seemed to be startled from their train of thought by his sudden presence. “Why hello there, Starscream! This, is my Smart Trainer soon-to-be 5012! It has gone through many stages in its functioning, and although perhaps it would be more efficient to start from scratch, I am admittedly quite attached to my first design here. It is…nostalgic, I suppose. A physical little remnant of my beginnings.” They pet a scrap of the thing fondly as if it were an old cyber-dog they were too sentimental to part ways with near its end.

Starscream raised an optical ridge. “That so? What exactly do you intend this thing to accomplish?”

By the looks of the parts strewn about, it harbored potentially algorithmic software with 360 degree firing capacity. But condensed into one little sphere in the way they had it now, would only fry its processor the more weaponry it deployed. The past attempts no doubt went haywire with its logistics corrupted not long after training began if its shots weren’t limited. It was a decent design in theory, and it seemed they had mitigated that flaw by small increments through their improvements, but stubbornly restricting it to this base format was no doubt hindering their progress.

“Well,” Nightshade didn’t even flinch at the judgment in Starscream’s tone, “It is meant to be a drone that can predict patterns of combat so that it may provide a steady increase of difficulty in a training exercise. As well as give encouragement through the words of our beloved mentor Bumblebee! He…wasn’t exactly thrilled at first about my borrowing of his voice–but I am confident that I have now convinced him of the flattery! I am certain it only bothered him when the Smart Trainer 5008 malfunctioned. BUT! I have ensured the S.T 5011 to be far more conversational, accurate, and currently, I am performing some improvements regarding its weaponry! It isn’t meant to be all that powerful–as to not be dangerous–so if I can reduce the power projected into the lenses, it could also reduce the risk of overheating.” They paused a moment from their ramblings and fiddling of parts to halt and actually turn to face Starscream. “Would you… like to join me? I know Tarantulas and Shockwave as Decepticon scientists. Do you perhaps have experience with such things as well? You did work with them, yes?”

Primus. Nightshade really got to talking once properly prompted, didn’t they?

A scoff escaped Starscream’s intake. “Yes, although Shockwave more so than this Tarantulas. Disregarding them I have plenty of my own scientific prowess to speak of! I was the only seeker to get into the Iacon Science Academy after all, I’ll have you know!” He boasted proudly with a servo to his chassis. “Although mechs do not care for xenobiology or astrophysics over a good blaster, the Space Bridges certainly grew in popularity as Cybertron’s energon reserves depleted. Of which I was quite involved with! Yet a strategist and artillery construction was highest in demand entering war time of course. Which I am excellent at! So I am more than qualified to take a look at your amateurish drone. I’m sure it could be far more than a soft-sparked air blower if you were more adventurous.”

Nightshade clapped their servos together and cooed like one of those odd Earth avians their alt-mode resembled. “Ooooh, fascinating! What–” They looked just about ready to begin a flurry of questions before apparently remembering who they were speaking with–“Ah, but, I do want to reiterate that I am content with the Smart Trainer in a matter of it lending to a softer style, since it’s gone wild in the past. So perhaps-”

Starscream plucked the hemisphere from the table to get a better look at it. “Yes, of course. Now, how attached really are you to this silly thing? It would be exceedingly more efficient to remove all these ridiculous lenses dotting its surface for your weak willed lasers in favor of constructing a more complex central processor within this primary drone. Then, pair it with a set of magnetized miniature artillery that can be called back to its artificial gravitational mechanism. That would greatly extend its range in the matter of delegating defensive and offensive sub-drones to perform its duty as a formidable training opponent. Your sentimentality surrounding this impractical prototype is below you. I mean, what was your plan for when it is shot to end the exercise? Build another? We will of course need to add an energy field to the operator core and–”

Nightshade snatched back the husk from Starscream’s servos before he could further disassemble it. “No no, now wait a moment! While I admit those ideas are intriguing, I do not wish to deviate to such a degree from my current system. As I asserted previously, this one…means a lot to me. So I would appreciate it if you listened to me on the matter.”

Their expression was far more firm, despite their volume hardly raising by a decibel or two. Were they angry with him or not?? And why should they be anyway?! Starscream was only giving them solid marks of improvement on a clearly flawed design! Avoiding progress merely on the basis of one’s nostalgia was stupid. It wasn’t as if he was going to rig the drone to turn against them.

Starscream’s faceplate scrunched as he tossed out a servo in exasperation, a small crimson spark leaving its tip to electrify a nearby motor. “Do you want my help or not!? Hindering yourself with such attachments–with a broken tool no less–is only going to hold you back.”

Dorothy stood. Looking just about ready to stick her grimy hands in on the argument with more ridiculous dribble. But Nightshade barely flinched.

“That is fine.” They placed the hemisphere near its fragmented half on the other side of the table. “I do value your experience, and potentially your company in the lab–as my siblings do not share this same passion…but I insist that you heed my parameters on certain matters. Now,” Nightshade’s silly, disarming smile returned as they reached down to rummage within the cabinets, “speaking of siblings, perhaps you could create one for my Smart Trainer 5012 with your vision! We can give notes on each other's progress as we go along, and perhaps have a bit of friendly competition. Oh, we could even test them against each other in the end like one of those robo-fighter video games! I might just have to add a force field of some sort as you suggest if you intend to make yours as excessively aggressive as it sounds.”

So they do have a bit of sass in them. Interesting.

Starscream straightened himself with a sideways glance at Dorothy as she sat back down. “A competition you say? You’d better be prepared to lose.”

“Do not discredit the resilience of the S.T 5012 so quickly! We will just have to see, won’t we?” A spark of determination grew in their optics as Nightshade’s posture straightened as well at the declaration.

“I suppose we will…”

Starscream kept a careful optic on them before beginning to assess the materials at his disposal. It all was an abhorrent amalgamation of cybertronian and human technology. He didn’t care to even touch that pathetic human scrap. The thought disgusted him–although…as his servo reached for it regardless…it surely wouldn’t hurt to experiment. He even got the sense he knew just how to work it into the growing blueprints forming in his processor.

A cloud of silence fell over them that Starscream hardly noticed as his focus was far too locked upon his task. He could prove to Nightshade how much better his design was–of just how skilled he was in this common ground–and they would have no choice but to be utterly and completely impressed and enthralled by his glory! He would get this strange beastformer on his side in no time at all. This was clearly what they cared about most. Perhaps this could even be simpler than he first thought. Starscream was sure they’d value a blatant display of skill, as proven in past reception during training, after all.

They worked alongside each other for quite some time, with the only notes of conversation being those of light criticism from either side on the other’s progress. Or, simply questions of curiosity on contrasting strategies. Although Starscream intended to keep an intriguing air of surprise to up the suspense of the grand reveal of course.

It would have missiles, deflection barriers, null rays, cont–...OH! He should add a confetti cannon! Hashtag would love that. Perhaps even a separate disco drone to be deployed that’d signify the end of the exercise! That would surely put him above that bug on the, very real, mentor scoreboard. When he was done, the Auxiliary Revolator was going to have a whole fleet of secondary drones under its command! And what better voice to give it than his own? Now, filling it with meaningless words of encouragement as Nightshade insisted on for their design would be ridiculous. If they earned praise from the session, Starscream would give it himself with far more substance. The Auxiliary Revolator would be programmed to instead deal out different levels of taunting remarks. This would better serve to remind them of the need to ignore distractions in combat, or even practice their ability to conjure quick retorts!

Then, as he was searching for a suitable power cell for the reflection field to finalize the central core processor, needed before he could move to painting the casing: Nightshade’s vocalizer cut through his train of thought.

“You are surprisingly comfortable with merging human and cybertronian tech. Tarantulas and I encountered many difficulties during our partnership regarding such things to perfect his initial invention.” They were further inspecting his work, as well as the array of parts he had accumulated. “It is quite impressive!” Another irksome, unreadable grin laid flat upon their faceplate.

Starscream wasn’t certain why their statement stirred such an odd mix of bothersome emotions through him. A response failed to come to his processor for a lingering klik as he rummaged through the Autobot crate. Why did the mergence of the two make so much sense to him? It was obviously because he was an intuitive genius! Nightshade truly should be impressed. All according to plan.

“But of course it is!” Starscream’s wings fluttered gracefully as he stood with a showboated twirl to his gait as he returned to the workstation with the A.R’s new power core. “I did tell you I am quite skilled in this sort of thing! I certainly outrank Tarantulas. He was so insignificant in fact, I didn’t even remember him until you reminded me of that ridiculous old beast. It is of no surprise to me that he couldn’t figure it out without the aid of a sparkling.”

Nightshade arched an optical ridge, and this time, it was quite clear how bothered they were at his comments regarding their apparent acquaintance. “Tarantulas is not ridiculous, or insignificant! He’s my friend!” They waved their servos about animatedly as if they were mimicking a superhero from one of those absurd comics. “You do not need to tear others down in order to raise yourself upon some–higher pedestal. Is it not sufficient to be proud, and appreciate our accomplishments as they are, without comparisons?”

Starscream rolled his optics. “I wasn’t the one who brought that predacon into this conversation to begin with…” There was a pause as they continued to stare at him with those wide optics, as if he had personally defiled their designation instead. Even that Dorothy human was glaring his way in disapproval. Scrap. Now there was that other ridiculous feeling in his tank.

It had always been crucial to ones standing in the ranks to prove their superiority over others. He didn’t need Nightshade thinking this previous partner of theirs was better than him! Starscream couldn’t lose to some inferior lackey! That’d be an insult! Especially when Tarantulas was clearly a deserter since he did not reassemble under Starscream’s rule before. Perhaps he could escape Nightshade’s query with his own if they wanted to speak of that arachnid so desperately.

Starscream folded his arms across his cockpit. “Although…What do you see in Tarantulas anyway? It is not as if I’ve seen him scuttling around amongst your little group here.”

“Well yes, he does not live here. We all helped him get an apartment on the outskirts of Philly so that he could utilize our holoprojector, and follow through with his wish to blend in alongside humans!”

“Why in the worlds would he want to do that?” Starscream cut in with undisguisable disgust.

“He was…tired of war. He said the only choice he had in joining the Decepticons was choosing to survive…”  Nightshade had lifted their servo in a clenched fist to their chest plate as if in reverence. “So, he wanted to disappear into the shadows. Do something else with his life that was his own. We actually still talk quite often! We started a book club! It is just us–but he has even gotten into crafting interesting little sculptures! I enjoy the fascinating, in-depth conversations we share, and he is very kind at heart, even if he can appear rather aloof.”

Sacrifice for the sake of his illusion of freedom. Living amidst humans. Delving into hobbies, devoid of conflict. Forsaking his faction in favor of his own gratification. And they all call Starscream selfish.

Nightshade seemed to notice Starscream’s expression had hardened, and tilted an extended servo in his direction as the spines on their forearms flicked flat, then flared as if bobbing their hidden wings in acknowledgement. “Do you not wish for more beyond seeking victory from an old war? You mentioned your studies in xenobiology and astrophysics? I would love to learn more! Even if I am far more focused on solid constructive means in a matter of machines or structures. I’m sure such topics could only widen the horizons for what we could do for the team! You seem to have knowledge far more valuable than how much destruction you can bring. There must be a number of passions you could rekindle! Surely, there is more to you than merely being a Decepticon as well.”

Starscream wasn’t so sure of that. A Decepticon is what he’d been for so long, it was difficult to imagine anything beyond its suffocating ambition. Was this honestly what Nightshade was interested in? Suggesting…Believing in the possibility of a stupid, passive, recreational life? Indulging in scientific study alongside those of like minds. Furthering the worlds of knowledge with exploration and academia. Living in the moments of quiet, or exuberant celebrations with comrades.

Those dreams had died with Skyfire. Those ideals had died with Thundercracker.

These kids were too, only temporary. Whatever pleasantries he could have with Bumblebee, were temporary. Any effort Starscream had made for the sake of others, had only blown up in his face. Any loyalty, twisted. Any partnership, defiled. The meaning of “good” in intentions was always in such a state of debate.

One’s own survival truly was the only thing that mattered. He couldn’t get attached.

Starscream flatly turned his attention back onto tinkering with the Auxiliary Revolator. His wings tipping back out to their poised, militant stature with a momentary downwards lilt of dismissal to Nightshade. This time, the stiff atmosphere of silence–the only sound emitted from the tapping of keys and the clinking of metal–only compounded his irritation at the thoughts spiralling in his helm.

As his stupid mystical glitch became faintly active, that feeling of ghostly strangulation only gradually increased in its intensity. A feeling which aided serrated claws in the effort of ripping wretched memories and long capped emotions from his intake. Those servos and that emblem, all too familiarly clasped around his throat. There was nothing more he could be than the same coward he’d been, clinging to the false pride and grand aspirations branded upon his wings.

Suddenly, Dorothy’s voice was the one to cut through the thick air as her incessant typing came to a halt. “How about we start small. Instead of all this worryin’ about who or what you are in the whole complicated scheme of things. Start with something manageable. Like, you two are over here talkin’ in so much science jargon, I have no idea what you’re sayin’ half the time!” She laughed casually, “So there’s obviously something you have in common there, right? It doesn’t have to be a competition, with each other or anyone else. If you’re having fun, it doesn’t have to be so serious, right?”

“Well–” Starscream and Nightshade both started before she cut them off.

“Okay fine, it can be both, but still!” Now Dorothy’s focus was aimed directly at Starscream. “Factions or status don’t matter. I know it can be hard to get yourself out of the battlefield, especially when it keeps comin’ to find you. That’s why it’s important we appreciate, and remind ourselves of the time we have like this. No ruminating about what could happen, or preparing for the worst. And you don’t have to try and prove your usefulness to stay here.”

Starscream rolled his optics at the final pathetic lie she used to punctuate her sentiment. Her words began to fade out like static. Too much old noise filling his audials.

“You don’t have to put on some bravado either. Ya ain’t impressin’ anyone with that. The only thing we need you to show us is that you’re actually on our side, as a team, and want to get better.”

“Right!” Nightshade put their digit up with a sparkle in their optics. “I’ve been a touch apprehensive about how to approach you, Starscream, I admit. You are quite intimidating. Especially after…well, everything that happened when we were on opposing sides. It is a bit difficult to know how to approach you without something comfortable to bridge the gap, so to say. Like science! Or your room! The offer for further remodeling is still there, by the way.” They leaned in briefly with a knowing sly smile and a wink like those more absurd items that had been placed in there had been some sort of baiting tactic.

What else was it they’d said? Nightshade thought of him as intimidating, yet had the gall to concoct such a ridiculous scheme as that? So, there was no true fear, then. They didn’t actually believe Starscream would retaliate in a violent manner towards them at silly, petty insults as those posters. Was that confidence in his chains or his character?

Starscream remembered when he had such foolish confidence in a mech’s character.

He shook his helm of those memories, and brought his attention back to the two in the room with him. Starscream raised an optical ridge at the looks they wore on their faceplates, and in-vented slowly. Then leaned a servo on the table with a casual grin.

“I just might take you up on that offer, Neutron.” Starscream winked at them in return. “Another time. We are quite busy with our current, decidedly not competitive, drone race.” He flicked his wings with a glance Dorothy’s way; she rolled her eyes and shook her helm, despite surprisingly not displaying any real annoyance.

Nightshade gasped softly as if in awe, “I have a nickname too? Hashtag told me you two were having such a conversation the other day! Oh, I must know: why is mine not a gem like hers?”

“Hm? Ah–” Starscream’s wing twitched back as his digit tapped the table–”well. It simply felt more fitting. Science and all, hah.”

Nightshade looked through him with those knowing optics. “Come now, that can’t be all it is! Tag said you gave quite the explanation into hers. I know neutrons are the subatomic particles of which lack a charge within the nucleus of an atom. Perhaps it is that you perceive me as a…stable, neutral force? Because they balance the atom? Um…because they play key roles in nuclear reactions and you spoke of my explosive potential…?”

“You aren’t going to let it go, will you?”

“Nope!”

“Would it be sufficient if I just gave you a gemstone designation to match? You certainly look like an emerald.”

Nightshade crossed their arms and arched an optical ridge. Clearly unsatisfied with such a proposition. Even with how equally fitting it was.

Starscream ex-vented exaggeratedly. “Fine, fine. You did make some astute observations. Although more specifically, I had a Neutron Star in mind.” As he began to absentmindedly ramble, he picked back up his tools to finish sealing the Auxiliary Revolator’s central drone. Selecting the perfect paints to detail its finish. “Now do not assume I am calling you exponentially dense by the intellectually offensive meaning of the word. More so in the way that you are…difficult to see through. Challenges are often encountered when attempting to observe neutron stars directly. As are they equally small and unassuming. They are formed when a star considerably larger than the one present in your solar system loses the battle against gravity and collapses in on itself. The stellar core itself is saved from further collapse by the quantum phenomenon known as the neutron degeneracy pressure. Which is when the neutrons within reach a point of density they can no longer exceed. These stellar constructs are occasionally referred to as a “star corpse”, due to of course–in all their creative genius–the fact that they were born from a star’s death. A grand, illustrious cosmic entity crushed by its own might…” Starscream laid out a stroke of red paint marking a sinister smirk, akin to ones he often doodled on his missiles, upon the core. A grin came back to his own faceplate as he twirled his servo. “Ah but that is a byte off topic, hm? I suppose the name simply came to mind as you remind me of myself in the old days before the war. Particularly if you were to allow yourself more spunk now and again, Neutron. Adamantly standing up for your convictions and focus with such poise is commendable.”

Nightshade blinked a moment before realizing the conversational baton was passed their way. “Ah, I see! My goodness is that fascinating–” they tapped the tip of their chin thoughtfully– “It is difficult for me to discern how these neutron stars exactly link to my reminding you of yourself… But I believe I appreciate the compliment nevertheless! And I do quite like it.”

Dorothy hummed from her perch. “Even without all that, I think it suits you baby.” She tilted her helm at Nightshade with a soft expression only these Maltos seemed capable of with one another. Then she looked to Starscream with a stare far more contemplative that he could do without. “You know Starscream. Maybe if you let go of that obsession of yours to be the best at any expense, you wouldn’t have to put who you were in the grave like that. I’m sure we’d appreciate whoever that mech was over what he became. I believe we’ve seen quite a few glimpses of him these past weeks, in fact.”

“Have you now?”

Nightshade looked between them as the gears turned in their helm. “Oh! Yes I get it now, I do believe we have as well! The moments when you were not concerned with usurping Tarantulas as my tinkering partner, were indeed particularly pleasant.”

Starscream glared at the two a moment before he scoffed and rolled his optics. Setting aside the A.R.’s central core to pick up the half constructed casing of the first secondary firing drone. “That’s ridiculous.” He glanced over at Nightshade’s partially constructed ring they had begun to design, meant to gyrate around their Smart Trainer as a deflection device. Starscream smirked and tipped his wings up in amusement. “Perhaps if you weren’t so distracted with how immensely fascinating I am, you’d have that blockage you’ve run into figured out by now. Hm?”

“Wh-I’ll have you know that I am by no means distracted!” Nightshade straightened proudly with a servo on their chestplate before lifting their device in demonstration. “And I have hardly run into a block. In fact, I have been contemplating a fix as we spoke! You see, the problem is whether the magnetism will be stable, and consistent enough to not lose control of the ring when it breaks off to become a long range block and grapple mechanism. So, I have been thinking, if I were to remove one of the Smart Trainer’s lenses, to instead act as a lock for one end of the ring extender, when it flings out to its full length it will retain ample control to not fling haphazardly to the abyss!”

Starscream nodded. “A sensible solution. One that might even allow you to build potential energy between the two as they spin to both engage and disengage quickly. As you know that such a flinging movement from the whip while attached to the core would bring it in that direction as well. If you are crafty about it, that grappling capacity could be used as a maneuverment device utilizing its surroundings. As well as dizzy your opponents by taking hold of their servo or weapon.”

“Exactly!” Nightshade beamed as they pulled back up their holoscreen to display their blueprints and simulations. “See, while I wasn’t too keen on making drastic changes, I did find your idea of exterior assistance intriguing! This addition will allow pin pointed projections of deflection shields at its sides, which can be used to keep track of how many hits it would have taken, while not actually allowing it to take sufficient damage in the exercises. Then, I got a fantastic wave of inspiration from an anime Tag had shown me recently of the potential whip-like devices can be capable of! And thus, the Smart Trainer 5012 is truly coming into view!”

“I admit it is quite impressive. Although one of my own drones has a projectile grappling hook method of its own. One that is not limited from one direction or ring, as it will have a collection of wires capable of electrifying a target from any direction. You still limit yourself through a passive lens, Neutron.”

“I am in fact simply retaining my focus on who the Smart Trainer will be used against. Electrocuting my own team doesn’t sound necessary in the slightest.”

“Oh come on. The voltage can be regulated. They are not quite that fragile that they couldn’t handle a shock as minute as a blaster set to stun.”

“Hm. Yes, I do suppose not. And if we were to use them for alternative purposes like when I lent the S.T. to Bee, a means of pacifying an opponent could be quite useful! As well as the multitude of little tentacles as you describe which could be used to input a code! From the feedback I got from Bee then, he ran into a bit of trouble with that.”

Starscream chuckled. “Oh I can only imagine the highjinx that bug could have gotten himself into without thought.”

Such casual conversation persisted as before as they both continued to work side by side on their little projects. It was refreshing to work with someone who didn’t gatekeep every circuit within their invention without considerable prying. And though it took some effort, Starscream relented to some of the sparkling’s suggestions on his own design as well. Perhaps not every piece of the drones had to lend to such destructive purposes. The Disco drone didn’t have to double as a mass laser projector. It could simply act as the deflector…with a speaker to blast victory music instead of plasma.

Dorothy had now long since entirely ceased her tapping. Having replaced it by entertaining herself with conversation with the rest of the human Malto’s who had returned from their outing. She seemed to be in a particularly in depth conversation with her conjunx, occasionally glancing back his way. But Starscream had more important things to consider as he noted Bumblebee lingering at the bunker’s entrance speaking with Jawbreaker. Nightshade’s Smart Trainer 5012 was just about complete, as well as his own Auxiliary Revolator and its trifecta armada! Now, all they needed was a test subject.

As they screwed in the sealing panels to their creations, Starscream whispered his plan to Nightshade, who snickered with delight at the idea. First, Nightshade took hold of their own creation in their servos to get the bug’s attention. Showing off the glorious new addition they had crafted. Then, Starscream readied his own fleet for deployment, with a steady digit on the switch.

“Sensors up Neutron!” Starscream tactfully interrupted the Terran’s explanation to toss his activated drones their way. A display which would no doubt get Bumblebee to spring into action, despite Nightshade themself knowing their Smart Trainer was more than capable of deflecting any blaster fire their way.

Predictably, the bug reflexively pushed them out of the way, servo blasters at the ready with an immediate shot at the Auxiliary Revolator. As the blast was easily deflected, the A.R.’s speaker rang out with mimicked laughter of Starscream’s own vocalizer, of which he couldn’t help but echo. Especially when the Taser Core shot repeated little bullets at his peds to make him dance.

“Augh Starscream!! SHUT THAT OFF!”

“Worry not dear teacher!” Came Nightshade’s triumphant line as they dutifully deployed their S.T. 5012 to retaliate against Starscream’s drone in their long awaited battle. “For we have prepared for a situation precisely like this one!”

“We??!”

Bumblebee was left baffled as Nightshade’s drone tactfully defended against the Auxiliary Revelator Armada's every attempt at getting another shot at the Autobot. Starscream would be infuriated if he wasn’t so proud. They were perfect rivals. Every shot they would get on the other would inevitably be matched, to the end that they’d go on for eternity if left to their devices. So, with a glance and a nod Neutron’s way, he had the perfect solution as he looked out at their newly arrived subjects.

“Well, as it seems our fabulous creations are far too equally matched against each other: what do you all say about a thrilling training exercise with Starscream and Nightshade’s amazing S.T.A.R.mada 5012!?” Starscream announced grandly with outstretched servos.

The S.T. gasped, “A teamup? Now that will be a great learning experience!”

The A.R. scoffed, “If you’re looking for a lesson in humility maybe! Haha!”

Jawbreaker transformed and flicked his tail with anticipation, the rest of the Malto unit converging on his location. With all of them eagerly coming to an agreement in unison, “Oh you’re on!!”

Bumblebee looked on as the struggle began with disbelief in his optics before a sigh left his intake with a laugh. “Of course this is what you two would be up to.”

Nightshade clapped their servos excitedly as they kept tabs of the drone’s condition through their holoscreen. “Aren’t they fantastic!? I would join in on the test as well but we must make certain that if there are any malfunctions they will be swiftly dealt with!”

Starscream slipped alongside them to pull up his own screen, adjusting a minor problematic variable. “Yes, I am sure the famous scout could handle a surprise simulation.” He flicked his wings tauntingly at the bug with a smirk.

Bee rolled his eyes with a grin as he began hopping side to side. “You know it Screamer, you can never catch me off guard!” He gave a ridiculous wink before dashing off to pull Thrash out of the way of a tentacle from the Skatter Whip drone.

Such a silly scene to behold. Something not unlike what shenanigans Starscream and his trine had gotten into in the past. Too many things here have been reminding him of those days. Yet he wasn’t so sure whether he hated it or not.

As his attention was pulled to the fight, he began a new petty competition for who could give the best advice to the sparklings. It was always extremely amusing to witness the bug squirm anytime Starscream interrupted his attempt at a pointer with his own, far better, interjection. Twitch began calling them out on it, but it was futile to get either to admit they were doing anything to trample the other’s peds. Besides, Hashtag seemed to find it entertaining enough.

A crimson spark flickered though his optics as his monitor closed behind him while he leaned unbothered on the rim of the table. He didn’t need any more glitches or paranoia corrupting his view at the moment. He was finally starting to gain some concept of this strange situation.

Nightshade needed a lab partner. Hashtag needed a mentor. Twitch reminded him of Spitfire if she took a dose of high justice moral fuel. Thrash was just about as ridiculous as that Moe human, yet oddly endearing from a distance. That Robby one seemed satisfied as long as Starscream played sufficiently nice with his siblings. Jawbreaker however, was an enigma he truly would never care to crack.

Regardless. They could figure it out tomorrow. Perhaps, there wasn’t such a need for rushing back into a scheme for victory or revenge. Meridian even finally ceased his incessant whining.