Chapter Text
Megatron and his ever-defiant second-in-command, Starscream, had been together for a long time. They were a couple—well, not officially, of course, but anyone with functioning optics could see it. Their relationship was as volatile as a warzone, a never-ending cycle of conflict and reconciliation. They tore each other apart only to piece themselves back together again, bound by something neither of them cared to name. It was toxic, undeniably so. But that had never stopped them before.
It didn’t matter how many times Starscream had betrayed him. It didn’t matter how often Megatron had punished him in return, ensuring that the Seeker knew exactly where he stood—at his feet, where he belonged. No matter how much they clashed, no matter how many times one of them drew energon from the other, they always ended up back together. It was inevitable. A constant. A truth as sure as war itself.
Until one day, Starscream ran.
Megatron hadn't been concerned at first. The coward had fled before, wings flaring with false bravado as he declared himself independent, only to come crawling back when he realized he was nothing without Megatron. It was always the same game. Starscream spat his defiance, took what he could, and bolted, but he never stayed away for long. He always returned, be it in chains or on his own terms, because, in the end, he belonged to Megatron. And Megatron, ever the benevolent mate, always took him back.
So he waited.
And waited.
And waited.
But this time, Starscream did not return.
At first, Megatron had been furious. How dare the little traitor abandon him without so much as a word? Did he truly think he could escape? That Megatron would simply forget him, let him slip away into the void without consequence? He would teach the Seeker the meaning of regret. He would track him down, drag him back kicking and screaming, and remind him exactly who he belonged to.
Then the fury gave way to something colder. Something more insidious. Concern.
Where was he? It had been too long. Starscream should have slithered back by now, tail between his legs, ready to beg for forgiveness. And yet, there was nothing. No word, no sign, no pathetic attempt to contact him and test the waters. The silence gnawed at Megatron like rust corroding his plating.
And then, finally, concern twisted into obsession.
Megatron would find him. Not to welcome him back. Not this time. No, he would hunt Starscream to the ends of the universe if he had to, rip apart planets if they dared to shelter him. And when he finally found him, he would make him suffer. Because Starscream had done the one thing Megatron had never expected.
He had left him for good.
Megatron’s obsession with finding Starscream had long since passed the point of reason. He scoured the universe, tearing apart entire sectors in his relentless hunt for the Seeker who had dared to leave him. Every lead, every rumor, every whisper of a familiar energy signature sent him into a frenzy. He told himself—told everyone—that he wanted to find Starscream so he could destroy him, that the traitor’s existence was a stain upon his name that needed to be wiped out.
And yet, the years passed, and still, Starscream remained elusive. Megatron’s fury never waned, but beneath it, something else festered. Something cold. Something he refused to name.
Then, finally, the news came.
Soundwave, ever watchful, had intercepted a faint but undeniable signal from a distant planet. It was weak, buried beneath layers of interference, but it was Starscream. There was no doubt.
Megatron wasted no time. He sent Airachnid and Breakdown with a big group of Vehicons to retrieve him, his orders clear—bring that traitor back to the Nemesis. He would deal with him personally. He would rip him apart with his own servos, make him suffer for every cycle he had spent hiding, for every moment Megatron had wasted chasing his shadow.
It didn’t take long.
When Airachnid and Breakdown returned, they were in rough shape. Deep gashes marred their plating, energon dripped from fresh wounds, and the way Breakdown’s optics flickered suggested he had taken a severe beating. Airachnid, ever composed, still held herself with arrogance, but even she had a dented frame and a fractured servo.
They had clearly fought for their prize.
Starscream lay crumpled at their feet, silent and still. His wings were mangled, twisted at unnatural angles, and his legs—both of them—had been snapped. He was barely recognizable, his frame a wreck of battered plating and exposed wiring.
Airachnid sneered, flicking away a smear of dried energon as she addressed Megatron.
-The mission was successful, my lord. We found your wayward second-in-command, but he was… uncooperative. - She cast a glance at the unconscious Seeker, lips curling.
- We had to break his legs and wings to keep him from escaping.
Breakdown grunted, crossing his arms, his optics dark with lingering frustration.
-Fought like a glitch, even with no chance of winning.
Airachnid smirked.
-But I assume that won’t be a problem, will it? You were planning to kill him anyway. - She tilted her head, waiting for Megatron’s approval, as if expecting praise for a job well done.
But Megatron said nothing. He simply stared at Starscream, at the wreck of what had once been his defiant, sharp-tongued second. He had imagined this moment a thousand times—Starscream, broken before him, at his mercy. He had wanted this, hadn’t he? Had dreamed of it?
So why did he suddenly feel like it was wrong?