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The thick ice cracked, revealing a familiar white chassis. The frost accumulated on the frozen transformer, glittering like a crystal. Starscream's wings vibrated with anticipation.
Rumble, who was in charge of hammering through the ancient glacier, sighed in relief. It had been a long solar cycle, especially with all the yelling and orders from the particularly stressed Starscream. He continued, and almost misstepped from exhaustion.
"Be careful with him! Imbecile!" the black-helmed Decepticon insulted. Rumble would've been scared, had he not known that Starscream was simply worried. All bark and no bite, his boss was.
It had taken hours just to pry the mech out of the ice. As soon as the bot was freed, though, Starscream fell silent. Throughout the rebooting procedure, he had only responded to Megatron and given the necessary orders. The cold bot had been electrocuted with Megatron and Starscream overlooking the procedure. It would still take a few cycles for him to fully be online, so Megatron left to continue his duties. Starscream stayed. He had waited six million years, what was a few more cycles to him?
I found him. Starscream sat next to the mech with his helm in his servos. Coolant stained his optics.
Looking at Jetfire laying motionless on the circuit slab had made Starscream twitchy in his chair. They hadn't seen each other for… the majority of his life, now. Jetfire was an old and bitter memory, one of his many old and healed scars. In the ice, he'd been online—well, somewhere between online and offline, in some sort of stasis-lock—all this time. Starscream felt an emotion his spark rarely brought forth—guilt. He had only looked for a week for him. Or his body, whatever remained of him to bring back home, but there was nothing. Ugh… feelings. Such puny and hindering things, he thought.
A series of mismatched beeps and noises came from Jetfire's rebooting chassis. Starscream jumped up from his seat and almost tripped over himself trying to get to Jetfire. A low grumble sounded, followed by creaks. Jetfire's optics blinkered open unevenly, adjusting to the dim light of the room for the first time in a few thousand millennia.
Starscream watched, mandible ajar and optics wide with awe, as Jetfire awoke.
Jetfire's helm turned with a crack towards the bot leaning over his faceplate. Recognition flooded his meta-processor, and his intakes inflated. He exhaled. "St- tarscr-ream…" his vocalizer glitched lowly in old Cybertronian.
"Jetfire! Yes! It's me, Starscream!" the mech in question yelled in excitement.
"No-" Jetfire coughed and smiled, "no need-d to ex-examplify your name. Ha. Ha."
Starscream laughed too loudly. His wings expanded subconsciously. His optics never wavered from Jetfire's, who was observing him fondly. Neither of their smiles had changed in those years apart.
Jetfire sat up, his stabilizing servos dangling from the circuit slab. "You're different, my star. How long has it been?"
Starscream pretended that his spark did not feel a pang of familiarity and comfort from the nickname. "Six million solar cycles, approximately," he spoke in a low tone in Old Cybertronian, but since it had been so long since he had used that dialect, he was quite rusty. "You were frozen. I couldn't find you."
Jetfire raised an arm towards Starscream's helm. His servo creaked as it rested gently on his faceplate. "That sounds awfully lonely. I'm sorry you had to go through that, Starscream." His voice was as rusty as Starscream's, but for a different reason.
With Jetfire in his space, speaking his name so softly, sympathizing with him, touching him, Starscream felt overwhelmed. Although he would never admit it, a slight blue hue dusted his cheeks.
He admits it! In much earlier days, he had sported feelings for Jetfire. Feelings Jetfire did not reciprocate, or, if he did in the faraway past, didn't anymore. After all, it was his fault that Jetfire was frozen all this time.
"I'm the one who should apologize. I looked for you for so long, but I couldn't…" he failed to vocalize. His usually loud crackling voice sounded so vulnerable when he murmured.
Jetfire took a second to decipher the dialect of modern Cybertronian. "It is alright. You tried, and that's all I care for, Star." Jetfire reached for Starscream's cheek with his servo.
Starscream shot back before he could reach. Jetfire closed his servo and dropped it back to his side with his brow furrowed. He wouldn't accept pity for his short-comings. It all felt too real for Starscream, like a living ghost grasping at him. "You should recharge, Jetfire! There is lots to do tomorrow, with you as a soldier to the Decepticon army."
"Six million years was enough rest. Tell me about yourself. And this Deceptioncon… army…" Jetfire replied, steering away from the blunder of reaching out to Starscream.
"Decepticons! That is what I am, and soon you, too, shall join our formidable ranks!" Thankful to avoid emotions, Starscream continued by explaining in thorough detail the inner workings of the Decepticon army, something he was intimately familiar with. He explained what Jetfire's role would be, and about squashing their opponents, the Autobots, and the puny humans in their way.
Jetfire listened—maybe not understood, but he was getting there—to every word, nodding and smiling. He noticed the differences in Starscream's… everything. His posture commanded more respect than before, which made sense, since he was Metragon's (that didn't seem right. What was his name again?) second-in-command. His voice was raspy with overuse, perhaps from yelling orders, or an accident. His wings, though, were the most expressive part of his body. They raised when he put emphasis on a particular part of his sentence. They stretched wider if he enjoyed what he was speaking about—especially if it was universal domination. They- wait, universal domination? Jetfire frowned. He didn't like the sound of that… it sounded rather evil.
"I do not want to cause harm. Ruling the universe does not seem very good, in terms of morality."
Starscream stumbled. "Ah- uh- technically you are right- but it's all means to the end. Once we rule, we can be… benevolent, and, as you say, good," he said it as if the thought was entirely novel.
"We?" Jetfire stood, and their height difference was apparent now. "I will not rule unfairly. I do not want to rule at all!"
Starscream frowned. That idea seemed foreign to him. "You don't want to rule the world alongside me? Or be in this war as a soldier of the Decepticon army?" His wings turned down.
Jetfire faltered. Starscream sounded so genuinely heartbroken… Jetfire had assumed that after six million years, Starscream wouldn't have this effect on him anymore. That planetary mission… he had planned to confess to Starscream afterwards. But he had changed, he was focused on war rather than science or adventure.
He spread his wings to make himself seem even bigger. "I am a scientist, not a soldier," he squeezed his optics shut, because he knew the next part would hurt Starscream more than him. "Goodbye, Starscream." With that, he spun on his pede and walked to the door that seemed the most likely to be an exit. When he looked back—because how could he not—Starscream stood stubbornly in the middle of the infirmary room. What gave his emotions away were his servos, clenched on his sides, and his wings, drawn down. The meaning of that hadn't changed in millions of years. It meant being betrayed. It meant joy being taken away. For every sparkling losing a toy and old bot with a dying spark-mate.
Jetfire walked out of the dimly lit room into the bright blizzard, guilt heavy on his straining spark. It matched Starscream's.
Starscream was alone again. He didn't know for how long he'd been standing there. Any bot could've told it had been another six million years since Jetfire had left, and he would've believed them. The pain felt the same.
He supposed he deserved it.
Talking to a ghost. That's how it had felt. He had grieved Jetfire, but never quite moved on, it seemed. And now, just as quick as he awoke, he left. Because of me, Starscream thought, self-deprecatingly.
He definitely deserved it.
Megatron burst in, ready to initiate Jetfire into the Decepticon cause. "Where is Jetfire?" he asked. Starscream sighed.
"He left to be good." And he left for good, his mind supplied unhelpfully. "He'll find the Autobots soon enough."
"And you let him leave!?" Megatron yelled. "I want every unit, every driving, flying, and diving 'Con to look for him. Search the planet! He is of too much value to let the Autobots convert him!"
"I don't think he will ever join us willingly, Megatron," Starscream said, leftover grief still sticking in his throat like a vile sickness.
He knew Jetfire. Or he used to, at least. He was passionate about science and exploration, he wanted to discover the new, not destroy the old. How could Starscream not have foreseen this? Of course he would leave, he awakened from the longest stasis-lock ever known, and immediately his old friend—now (almost) leader of an army—suggested he become a living war weapon. And what an old friend I am, he thought, his stasis-lock was my fault. I couldn't find him. Jetfire probably thought him an incompetent friend. He didn't know which part hurt the most.
Megatron's voice cut through his moping. "Then we must kill him before he becomes too powerful. He is either our asset, or dead."
Starscream felt the floor open up underneath his feet and swallow him whole. More guilt piled onto the pile of emotions he chose to ignore. He could die because of him. He will die. Starscream knows that Jetfire is too stubborn in his morals to ever give up. He's weak and lost on Earth, just as he was eons ago, but this time he'll die. No stasis-lock option now. He'll die, and it'll be because Starscream wanted to win a war that didn't matter quite as much to him as Jetfire did.
Oh.
Oh.
The revelation pushed him over the edge; he'd tied himself to it after losing Jetfire. He refused to lose him again. He turned his on his pedes, away from Megatron, and headed for the exit—the same one Jetfire had disappeared from a few moments ago.
"Starscream! Search the premises!" Megatron yelled at him as he walked out.
"I QUIT!" Starscream yelled back simply.
"You are under my rule, Starscream! And you shall obey me over your…" was all Starscream could discern before the howling of the snowstorm buried Megatron's voice.
He knew exactly where Jetfire would be.
Jetfire chose to walk instead of fly because his destination was near, and it was someplace that those soldiers that were going to be after him any time now would never even think to search.
It was the first place he and Starscream used to visit when exploring new planets. Yes, it was usually frozen, barren, and boring, but it was a good baseline for what barren meant for that ecosystem, and what could survive in the harshest of conditions, if anything.
So he was pleasantly surprised to find the magnetic south pole of this planet be labeled "North Pole."
He felt a fondness grow in his heart. Starscream had described humans briefly, but portrayed them negatively, like a creature in the way. But they had clearly been everywhere on their planet, going as far as conquering their poles! Jetfire commended them for it. He quite missed exploring. He missed exploring with Starscream, he found. He was always flying into hurricanes or falling in various places that led them into cave systems and new paths. The memories made him even fonder before turning bittersweet. Starscream wasn't the brave and carefree bot he had fallen in love with before the statis-lock. He had to remind himself of that.
He was a coward hiding behind legions. He carried burdens heavier than any could handle, and it changed him. It hardened his plates to the point of no return.
He didn't know what his plan was, by staying here. They'd find him one day, and that day would be the day he died. Some part of him accepted that fact too quickly. After all, what was the point of discovery without Starscream?
Who was he without exploration and science?
Who was he without Starscream? Starscream had clearly carved out a not-so-humble existence without him. But Jetfire was alone now, still tethered and in love with a bot that had changed and moved on.
A small organism jumped into the snow nearby. A pede-sized, snow-colored mammal was chasing after a tinier, longer-eared one.
He did not enjoy feeling like the long-eared one. Hunted by a thousand medium mammals who wanted to kill him. He didn't know anywhere better to lay low, because he didn't know any place on this planet.
Then again, he also didn't enjoy feeling like the medium mammal. Always chasing after faster long-eared mammals, ones that adapt better, yet still look so enticing.
His thoughts spiraled unsurprisingly back to Starscream.
He missed his friend more than anything, regardless of his prior romantic feelings towards the likely nonreciprocal bot. It had been a few millennia, after all.
Jetfire had not moved for so long that a thin layer of ice formed over him like a shell. The cold restraints displeased him, reminded him of a past not so far away, so he stretched to break the ice away.
He heard foreign pedesteps crackle over the snowstorm. He turned around defensively and saw a figure near him.
"Starscream," he gasped in Old Cybertronian. "Do not- do not try to convince me again."
Jetfire did not know if he could resist a pleading Starscream. His convictions were usually strong, but he felt so lost and alone that he'd follow Starscream if he gave him an alternative that made sense to him.
Starscream's wings flinched. "I won't. I'm not here for that," he affirmed in modern Cybertronian while cautiously approaching him.
Jetfire didn't believe him. His mind was corrupt, this was surely a ruse. He wouldn't have it. He puffed up his chassis to seem even bigger than the smaller bot; it seemed the only tactic he had, since he was weaponless. "Then what are you here for?"
He saw Starscream hesitate unsurely, as if even he didn't know what he was doing at the magnetic south pole of a planet faraway from Cybertron.
Jetfire could see his shoulders and wings move up and down with his breathing. After a prolonged pause, Starscream spoke. "I quit as Megatron's second-in-command," he said. Jetfire looked at him suspiciously. There had to be a catch, right? "I quit being a- a Decepticon."
Jetfire took a second to take in Starscream. He looked… tired. Like he was an army general who had lost a war, but that war was only against himself. The smaller mech didn't seem like a liar… Jetfire decided to trust him. For now.
"Why?" he asked simply, in the new modern version of Cybertronian that had developed while he was gone. This way, Starscream had to understand him. His spark screamed 'Convince me! Give me a crumb of logic and I'll believe anything you say!' His helm was still not used to consciousness, so he couldn't find an argument against that. He would play this game like he always had; by the book, with unwavering logic and morals.
Now, it was Starscream's turn to prove himself.
Starscream hesitated at the question. However, it wasn't the kind of pause that happened when he didn't know what to say. He knew what he wanted to say for six million years, really. No, this hesitation was whether or not he should let the words be spoken. He knew exactly why he was here at the north pole with Jetfire. It was his favorite place of every planet. Jetfire hadn't outright said it on their various missions, but his fondness for the place where the sun never set was obvious to anyone with functioning optics. He liked the constant-ness of it, that rare glimpse of familiarity in such an unfamiliar career. The north pole was always cold, and always barren, with small exceptions Jetfire reveled in.
Starscream was here because Jetfire was. He had quit because Jetfire had, and after so many years, Starscream had forgotten that he had that choice. He realizes now that he had given up a long time ago, shortly after Jetfire's disappearance. He supposes that was why joining the Decepticons felt so easy—it gave him direction, a purpose, when he had lost Jetfire.
Near Jetfire and him, an arctic fox jumped into the snow to catch a wild rabbit. Before seeing if it was successful, Starscream inhaled.
"When you walked out of that door I realized how in love with you I still am," he said in Old Cybertronian.
A beat. Jetfire's optics flickered with hope, his wings opening slightly. Starscream continued.
"I felt like I had no direction. I didn't know what to do, or what to say, I just knew that your absence hurt so much more the second time around, all because you left me on purpose. It hit me all at once, the real reason why you love the north pole on every planet. It isn't the silence, nor the cold, nor the views," Starscream huffed out a dry laugh. "The poles give you direction, someplace universal to start. You give me a direction to go to, Jetfire."
For a moment, the only sound audible was the rush of cold wind.
For that moment, the only movement were snowflakes whizzing past.
In that moment, the only faint smell was of rabbit's blood and fox sweat.
Within that moment, as frozen as their environment, Starscream couldn't look away from Jetfire, who stared back tenderly.
Then something clicked. Quite literally clicked, as Starscream's engines turned on. He lifted in the air to meet Jetfire eye to eye.
"Yes," Jetfire said so lowly it was almost lost beneath the howl of the wind. "That's exactly right."
Jetfire was not stupid. He knew there was only one reason for Starscream to start flying at eye level with him, and it wasn't to give a friendly hug. It only took them six million years, but there they were, at that undauntable finish line.
Somebody just had to take the first step over the line.
Jetfire raised his servo to Starscream's helm for the second time today. He moved in imperceptibly closer, and his optics darted to the side.
"May I-" Jetfire started to ask.
"Yes," Starscream said so lowly that it almost sounded like pure static. Jetfire didn't need to hear him, though, as he was staring at his derma, left ajar by his words.
The direction of the wind changed suddenly and pushed Starscream closer to Jetfire. They tilted their helms in opposite ways, and the image of an orbit popped into Jetfire's mind. How fitting.
Maybe the moment just stretched because he wanted it to, but Starscream's derma ghosted his. Jetfire pushed his helm forward and kissed him.
By Primus, he had never been so excited to explore something with Starscream.
Starscream's wings raised high, splayed in the snowstorm proudly. The shivered not from the cold, but from the warm contact with Jetfire.
After his initial kiss, he pressed harder, with more pressure. Starscream kissed him back with an enthusiasm that manifested by his speed increasing. More kisses, quicker, sweeter. Jetfire committed every movement to memory. He never wanted this to end.
Especially since Starscream was kissing him back and making cute little noises. He was 98% sure he was still in some sort of stasis-lock. Jetfire held Starscream's helm tighter in his servos, lest Jetfire fall away. He promised himself that they would never lose each other again.
After a few too many extra kisses, Starscream backed off from Jetfire. "The Decepticon Army are still after us, after you. We need to keep moving."
"Together?" Jetfire asked, a hint of hope bleeding through his honeyed voice. Starscream nodded and linked servos with him. "Well, lead the way, my star."
Starscream smiled honestly for the first time in six million years. "How would you like a guided tour of Australia?"
Jetfire huffed. "Wherever that is, I'll love it," he said with certainty. I'll love you, his mind offered. Sounded about right.
He deployed his wings and they crackled into their alternate modes together. They flew over icy tundra, ocean, forests, valleys, farms, cities and deserts. Through storms and good weather, they flew beside one another.
In Alice Springs, Australia, the residents fortunately did not notice when two unidentified planes made a home in the town's airplane graveyard. To lay low, retire for a decade or eighteen. They had millions of years to catch up on, after all.