Chapter Text
The first of the Seeker class had been shipped directly to the air force. When it became clear that even a dedicated warbuild could not survive the intricacies of aerial combat on instinct alone, they began sending them to the Cybertronian War Academy first, for basic training at the very least. When enrollment for that became too full to manage, it was then deemed appropriate for certain city-states to offer civilian jobs to newly onlined Seekers. Most of these Seekers found themselves sequestered in Vos; as the central location of Cybertron’s air force, they stood out the least in that city.
It was there, in the lower end of Vos, that a certain blue Seeker lived out his days. His name was Thundercracker, and nothing exciting ever happened to him.
Thundercracker would say he preferred it that way. An exciting life was a demanding life. It meant expectations and hard decisions and the stress of unpredictability. Thundercracker avoided all that by keeping up a dutiful routine. Everyday he’d wake up, refuel, go to work, come back home, refuel again, watch the news, recharge, and repeat. It was a quiet life. He didn’t go out for fun, and he didn’t try to make friends. Other mechs stressed him out: the city was full of grounders that grabbed and slapped at his wings and seekers that harassed him for not being military. Thundercracker didn’t want to join the military. Thundercracker didn’t want to be anything at all.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t fight (as a warbuild, he was quite literally built for fighting), and it wasn’t that he couldn't fly, (in his humble opinion, Thundercracker could outfly most of the air force if given the chance); it was just, despite his class function, Thundercracker didn’t have the temperament for a soldier’s life. Consequences were so much steeper when death was involved. Dying scared him, but being forced to kill scared him more; and he would kill, if the military told him to. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, but the law was the law, and Thundercracker always did what he was told.
The military was run by grounders, as was much of Cybertronian society. It was a hold over from the Functionalist ideology that ruled the past, which still permeated much of Cybertronian law to this day. Thundercracker found it utterly ridiculous—after all flight frames were clearly the superior model—but he didn’t make the rules.
The Senate made the rules, and all he had to do was follow them in order to live out his life in peace.
Delivering packages wasn’t an interesting or glamorous job, but it did mean he got to fly a lot. Gliding from lower Vos to the High Spires and back down to the Lights Districts, the routes were monotonous and dull, but he could focus on the air across his wings and the thrum of his engines to keep himself sane. Flying was one freedom he would not give away. And so it went, day after day, cycle after deca-cycle, the vorns blending into one another as Thundercracker repeated his routine.
Half a million stellar cycles of the same old, same old, and nothing exciting ever happened.
Only, that wasn’t entirely true. There was one notable exception to the uneventfulness that was Thundercracker’s entire existence, and that exception always made itself known when he least expected.
It was a day like any other: same morning routines, same familiar routes, processor dimly wandering over several different topics without ever committing to any particular thought. There was no reason to believe anything other than a half cube of energon and a quiet evening in front of the vid screen would be waiting for him at home.
He was standing in the middle of his tiny apartment, about to take a sip from his cube, when a peculiar knock assaulted his door.
Tap, tap, rapitty tap.
Thundercracker slowly put down his cube as he turned to stare at the door, wondering if he had imagined the sound. After the briefest of moments, he heard it again.
Tap, tap, rapitty tap!
His vents stuttered in a suppressed groan. It had been an eternity, yet he’d recognize the sound anywhere. There was only one mech who ever knocked on Thundercracker’s door in that exact fashion. A mech who only ever showed up when he was in some kind of dubiously dire situation. A mech Thundercracker never quite had enough energy for.
That mech looked way too happy to see him when he opened the door.
“Starscream.”
“Oh good! You remember me!”
The white, red, and blue Seeker at his doorstep grinned manically up at him. He seemed to be panting ever so slightly, as if he’d been straining his engines, and a stray suspicion at the back of Thundercracker’s processor wondered who or what might have chased him here.
“You better not have done anything actually illegal this time,” he said with a glower.
Starscream barked out a laugh. “Of course not! But I do need your help. Follow me!”
That was all the warning he got. Thundercracker hardly had time to register the command before Starscream kicked off the ground into his alt mode and zoomed away. Without thinking, Thundercracker shut the door and raced after him. It wasn’t until he caught up to Starscream’s tail wind that he even wondered what they were doing.
Starscream set a brisk pace. Vos became a blur of lights beneath them as they flew towards the outskirts of town, turbines humming in tandem.
This was their first time flying together.
Glancing over at the smaller Seeker, it occurred to him that he and this mech were still practically strangers. So much time had passed since their first fateful encounter, and yet they’d only interacted a handful of times, and only ever when Starscream needed someone to bail him out of trouble. It was his own damn fault, Thundercracker supposed: he was only in this position because of the one time in his function he didn’t mind his own business. The one time he decided, on a whim, to deviate from his regular path, to follow a trail of energon down that dark alleyway.
That was where he found him. The terrified Seeker had somehow crammed himself into the seams of the buildings, knees drawn up to his chest in an attempt to make himself as small as possible. It was unclear how long he had been there, sat in a pool of his own energon. It had taken forever to coax him out of his hiding spot. Both his hands were missing.
Thundercracker helped him. Of course he did. He wouldn’t have felt right leaving him there, and it wasn’t like it would cost him much. He had carried him home, helped him refuel, and then walked him to the nearest clinic. The medical bill did cost him quite a lot, but it had seemed like the right thing to do.
And then it was over; the next day, he was gone. He hadn’t expected to ever see the Seeker again after that, and his life went back to normal.
The first time Starscream showed up on his doorstep asking for help, so much time had passed that Thundercracker hardly recognized him at first. Gone was that haunted look in his optics, completely replaced by an obnoxiously cocky attitude and whirlwind personality that easily commanded the room. Thundercracker barely registered having let him in before the tri-colored Seeker was lounging on his couch, drinking his energon and chatting up a storm.
And so it was that Starscream would disappear for a hundred vorn or so at a time before suddenly turning up at Thundercracker’s door needing to borrow credits or a place to crash after having lost his latest job to one thing or another. There was always a story behind it. Starscream was absolutely full of stories! In the spans of time between each visit, Starscream would fly all over Cybertron, living in several different cities, working several different jobs that all defied the limitations of his frame type’s function. He had at different times been a medic, a prosecutor, a frame model, a politician, and apparently even a functionalist priest for a brief stint. That last one had gotten him in trouble with the law, but he swore it wasn’t his fault.
Thundercracker wasn’t entirely sure how much he believed Starscream’s tall tales, embellished as they were, but it was impossible not to be drawn in by the absurdity that was Starscream’s life. Starscream talked about everything, from politics to theater, from how badly Thundercracker needed to maintain his polish to the best way to drink engex, and of course every work-related drama he’d ever been involved in.
The more Starscream talked about himself, the less Thundercracker felt like he knew him.
Who was he really? Where had he come from?
And where exactly were they going now?
He scarcely finished the thought when the roar of engines caught his attention. Two Seekers had entered the air space behind them and were quickly gaining speed. Emblazoned on their wings was the symbol of Cybertron’s air force.
“What did you do?!” Thundercracker shouted at his companion, completely incensed that Starscream would not only get in trouble with the military, but decide to drag him into it as well. Thundercracker had work in the morning, he couldn't afford to go to jail!
Starscream’s wings wiggled slightly; the fragger was giggling.
“Don’t worry about it, Thundercracker! Just keep up and follow my lead!”
Starscream blasted off. The guy was fast, and Thundercracker could barely manage to keep up. The military Seekers gave chase, but at a much slower pace than would be expected, allowing the distance between them to surmount. Just as Thundercracker thought they might actually lose them, Starscream banked upwards so tightly it forced Thundercracker to pull an insane swivel and flip just to swing back around. He could see Starscream making loops ahead of him, giving him a chance to catch up, but as soon as Thundercracker was at his wing, he was forced into another dangerous stunt. Starscream spun and pressed and volleyed almost playfully around him, corralling him into tight turns and sharp dives and complicated flight maneuvers seemingly at random. It was all he could do not to collide in the air, ailerons straining against the turbulence.
It was exhilarating!
Thundercracker had never flown this hard before. He spent so much time retracing the same inter-city routes that he forgot just how amazing it felt to really cut loose in the open sky. With Starscream’s antics adding an extra layer of complexity and challenge to the flight, Thundercracker could feel himself pushing his frame and concentration to their limits in a way that just felt good.
For a blissful few breems, it was as if nothing else existed outside of the controlled chaos of their flight, but as soon as they began to descend, Thundercracker remembered where he was and who was still in the air with them. His earlier trepidation slammed back into his frame as the other two Seekers followed them to the ground, and he self-consciously wondered if they had been watching the entire time. At least Starscream seemed completely unbothered by their presence, laughing high and bright as he transformed into his landing. It was a small assurance that neither of them were going to get arrested tonight for whatever it was they were just doing.
Thundercracker landed stiffly, keeping Starscream between him and the Seekers touching down a short distance away. The pair transformed into root mode with all the practiced bravado of seasoned warriors. They wore the nosecones of their alt-modes tall and proud over their helms, in the traditional fashion of Polyhexian Seekers. Thundercracker gulped—they looked really cool.
“Well?” Starscream said, turning to address them with an arrogant smirk plastered on his faceplates, arms splayed wide like a gladiator taunting his opponent. “I do believe I have proven my point!”
One of the Seekers turned his helm away with a growl, but his partner gave them a good natured smirk. “Fine, we will concede. That was some pretty impressive flying up there. You know, the force could use more Seekers with your talent.”
Starscream examined his claws. “I’d be wasted on the military. My skillsets were honed for free flight, not rank and file.”
“You’d be surprised. Command positions do open up occasionally.”
“Oh?”
They were just chatting now, Thundercracker realized. With a few more words of polite banter, the two Seekers soon kicked off and flew away into the skyline, leaving Starscream looking far too pleased with himself and Thundercracker completely and utterly baffled by the exchange.
“...What was that?!”
Starscream flinched at the tone, but Thundercracker was too tense to feel bad about it. The smaller seeker at least had the decency to look apologetic as he turned to face him with a placating grin. “Heh, it’s a long story, but I may have gotten a bit overcharged at a bar a few cities down and implied I could outfly a pair of air marshals who would NOT let it go. In my defence, I tried to avoid them! They just kept finding me, demanding I back my claim!”
Thundercracker felt sick with embarrassment. “THAT’S what you dragged me out here to do? To…to… skydance in front of a pair of professionals? What made you think…I’ve never even flown formation before in my life! I…Oh Primus, I must have looked like an idiot.”
“But you were amazing!” Starscream praised, his smile beaming with sincerity. “I did NOT go easy on you up there, but you matched me wing for wing! Listen, I told them I could outfly any pair on Cybertron, and these mechs have been hounding me for stellar cycles to prove it to them. And we flew circles around them! Thundercracker, if that was your first time flying paired, then you are a sky-blessed genius!”
Thundercracker immediately deflated at the earnest praise being heaped on him. He was still really miffed at Starscream for taking advantage of him like that, at how easily it all could have gone bottom up, how one wrong move could have sent them both spiraling to the ground in an embarrassed heap. But they hadn’t. He didn’t mess up, and they didn’t crash and make fools of themselves, and according to a pair of air force trained Seekers, he had been good enough to impress. He couldn't deny how good the validation felt, how good the flying had felt. His wings fluttered bashfully as he let the remaining tension bleed out of his frame.
Sensing the change, Starscream pranced to his side and hooked their arms together. “Hey, how about I make it up to you? Come on! It’ll be my treat.” And before he could ask what that meant, he was dragged back into the air. With a resigned chuckle, he transformed and followed Starscream back to the city.
They filled the rest of the night with dive bars and live shows as he let Starscream drag him all across town. Everywhere they went, Starscream somehow made himself the center of attention, allowing Thundercracker to always be part of the action while staying out of the spotlight. It was comfortable, following Starscream around. The tri-colored seeker always knew what he wanted and where to get it, and Thundercracker never once had to worry about what to say or what to do next. They drank high-grade and shared stories and danced the night away.
And then it was morning, and Starscream was gone.
It was all an expected part of the long established pattern; just as Starscream always showed up when he least expected it, he also always left without warning or care. No “goodbyes” or “we’ll meet agains,” just one moment there and gone the next. Thundercracker stood in the middle of his tiny apartment and sipped from his cube as he got ready for work, and something about the space seemed just a tad bit quieter than it used to. He flew his same old routes down the same city blocks and the air traffic felt just a tad bit slower than it used to.
That night he watched the news and thought about flying.