Chapter Text
The painful energy never went away. When the sun rose and the day began, Starscream knew he would have to do something. But what could he do?
Would it be so bad to live on his own again, if only to get away from Megatron? He paused in the center of the room. They wouldn't let him leave the base, but had that ever stopped him before?
Starscream strode toward the door. He raised his fingers above the entry pad, fully prepared to hack it—
UNLOCKED, the indicator read. UNLOCKED.
He opened the door. His pedes refused to move across the threshold. What if this was a trap? They were trying to see if he'd break the rules, and then they would punish him for it. It had happened before.
Starscream clenched his fists so hard that the metal creaked. That didn't matter. He'd just have to make sure he wasn't caught.
He moved down the halls, stepping lightly to minimize the noise he made. His fans clicked on, and with a frustrated grumble, he shut them off. Each hall was the same typical, boring gray. Where was the exit?
After the thousandth pointless turn, voices came from the end of the hall, echoing and muffled. Starscream froze, recognizing their sources. Megatron, Optimus, and Soundwave, here? Had he stumbled into a meeting?
If they caught him, he was doomed. Curiosity beckoned, and he crept closer. They were in a room, the door open. Now, he could catch a few words.
"Humans—reputation—Starscream—"
What about him? Starscream crept until he was beside the doorway and turned up the sensitivity of his audials.
"Starscream—unwise to leave unoccupied," Soundwave said.
"I know!" Megatron said. "But we can't give him access to anything he could use to plan against us."
"Starscream—unwise to leave unoccupied," Soundwave repeated. "Starscream—a scientist. Give access to a lab."
"That's the exact opposite of what we should do! It'll just give him the tools to betray us," Megatron said.
"Starscream—clever. Would have betrayed by now regardless of lab access."
Optimus hummed. "So you're saying that if he wanted to, he would find a way whether we gave him access to a lab or not."
Soundwave nodded. "Starscream—determined, irrepressible. Directionless Starscream—discontent Starscream."
"Yes, but—"
Optimus cut Megatron off. "We're arguing in circles. I'm sure we can spare a lab, or at least some supplies. He can be supervised."
"You don't know him like I do, Optimus," Megatron said, tone simultaneously biting and soft. "He's dangerous. He'll walk all over us if we let him."
"Then we won't let him," Optimus said.
"Megatron—forgets. Soundwave—also knows Starscream."
Megatron sighed. "Yes, yes. I know."
"Starscream—led the Decepticons. Starscream—wanted peace."
"That's what he claimed," Megatron said.
"Not a lie," Soundwave said.
"Then why would he attack me every chance he had?"
Starscream's hands curled into fists. How little did Megatron understand? Did the brute truly believe the aggression was undeserved? That he could push him around? Abandon his faction? Fight alongside the enemy? There was a difference between an act of war and an act of vengeance.
Megatron was the threat. He sat atop his throne like a predacon atop its deactivated prey. A hungry beast, he stalked the halls, waiting for an excuse to fight. With every small slight that Starscream managed, the scrutiny intensified.
Then, Starscream was reminded, it was just him. Other mecha failed Megatron on occasion, attracted his wrath, but none bore his unending ire. A dismissive 'yes, yes' to Soundwave was a sharp 'Quiet your insubordinate vocalizer!' to Starscream.
Why did Megatron hurt him every chance he had—even before Starscream had tried fighting back? What about Starscream demanded such a harsh hand? Why did Megatron never find him worth respecting or listening to?
"Starscream—wants what's best for the Decepticons and himself," Soundwave said. "Megatron—a threat."
Megatron sighed in irritation. "This won't get us anywhere. I've said my piece. If you want to take the risk, I can't stop you."
As pedesteps came close to the door, Starscream backed away, preparing to sprint down the hall, but it was already too late. Megatron emerged from the doorway, nearly running into Starscream. His optics, bright and burning, met Starscream's.
"I thought you weren't awake," Megatron said. "Where is Blitzwing?"
Starscream could throw Blitzwing under Megatron's burning gaze easily, but his spark rebelled at the idea. During the war, he wouldn't have hesitated, but now…
"The lock failed," Starscream said. "I'm here by myself."
Megatron's optics narrowed. "It did? And what are you doing out here on your own?"
Optimus emerged from behind Megatron, saving Starscream from having to explain.
"Starscream?" Optimus said.
Megatron turned back toward him. "He said the door was unlocked."
"Must have been an error," Optimus said. "But maybe we'll keep it that way. We have some good news for you."
Starscream dipped his head in acknowledgment, not quite sure what the proper response was (without irritating any of the mecha around him, anyway). It certainly wasn't 'Yes, I was just eavesdropping on you.' He didn't have to worry, since Optimus spoke again.
"You will have access to a lab soon, should you want to work on any projects. Any proposals will have to go through our heads of science and security first."
"Thank you," Starscream said. "But… am I able to leave the base?"
The lab would give him something to do, but expanding the walls of his prison did not free him. Did they see him as a prisoner or an equal? Was this just a concession to keep a dangerous creature locked away?
"No—"
Optimus cut Megatron off with a gentle glare.
"Not yet," Optimus said. "There are a lot of complicating factors, but we are working to give you the same freedoms afforded to the rest of us."
So, this wasn't of their own doing. The humans, then? Regardless of the fault, the fact stood—Starscream was a prisoner.
"And this isn't just to make me work for you?" Starscream said.
Soundwave stepped out from behind Optimus.
"Your projects—yours. They will not be taken."
He stood with his chest at an angle that made the Decepticon brand on it flash. Starscream didn't doubt his words. Soundwave, above all, was an honest mech. Perhaps, he could have something to himself for once.
"I see," Starscream said. "I look forward to using that lab."
The conversation soon dissipated, and with it, the group. Optimus peeled away, Megatron following him after one last glance at Soundwave and Starscream. The two remaining mecha stood silent for a moment.
"So," Starscream said. "How are the cassettes?"
Soundwave turned away—slightly, nearly imperceptibly—but away nonetheless. "Ravage—restless. Like to wander. Rumble and Frenzy—gone."
"Gone?" Starscream said, leaning closer.
Ravage had always enjoyed exploring (and playing the occasional prank with even more occasional aid from Skywarp and the other cassettes) but Rumble and Frenzy were not the type of mecha to go off on their own without reason. Unless… had they been killed? Was that why Soundwave surrendered?
"They left," Soundwave said.
That was… strange. Starscream had rarely interacted with the two cassettes, but from what few moments he had, they were just as loyal to Soundwave as the others. Though, Starscream couldn't begrudge them for not wanting to stay with the Autobots. He had spent his entire leadership of the Decepticons attempting to avoid that fate, after all.
☆☆☆
Starscream was allowed a lab much more quickly than he expected. It was small, and only had the most essential equipment, but it was his. He stood in the center of the room, letting the fact settle in. All of this was his own space. If he was lucky, no one would be allowed to interrupt him—not even Megatron.
Of course, he was being watched. The cameras were obvious from the moment he walked in. But when hadn't he been watched since he was dragged to this accursed base? And, truly, when had anything been surveillance-free after the war began?
What could he possibly work on? Weapons were a no-go—he could tell that much without asking. With how basic the equipment was, there wasn't much he could build, anyway. What else could…?
The idea came to him suddenly, as if a foreign force had placed it in his processor. His hands brushed against his cockpit. Energeon. He could see if there was a way to manufacture it on Earth.
The caches around the planet could only go so far. Already, they were beginning to exhaust them. And if the humans wanted to use it for their own purposes? They would surely starve.
The substances already created on the planet were close enough that it could work. He was able to drink some of the humans' fuel—regardless of its adverse effects—so it would be a decent starting point.
He drafted a proposal and submitted it, pacing around the lab. A few moments later, he was pinged. The proposal was accepted. Starscream twirled in place, his spark humming happily.
If—when he succeeded, every mech on the planet would owe their lives to him. That embarrassing time alone was just what he needed to learn what no other mech was willing to.
☆☆☆
Getting out of berth was easier that morning, and the next, and the one after that. Finally, he had something to do. He hummed to himself as he set up a solution under a fume hood. The chemical compositions of energeon and earth fuels weren't particularly similar, but they shared some elements. Most mecha could consume modified energeon, such as gummies and candies, so if he could get it close enough to that, it might work.
The strange purple energeon—dark energeon, it had grown to be called—that was found during the war was also a different form of energeon. But unlike gummies and candies, it had disastrous side effects even when processed. After its discovery, any progress on converting different substances to energeon had been halted. No mech wanted another dark energeon incident on their hands—especially since no analysis was able to reveal why dark energeon did what it had.
(All of the substance had been destroyed at the end of the war, with orders for any future finds to be destroyed as well. One of Starscream's few restrictions on this project was that he couldn't use any dark energeon samples—not that he desired any.)
Finding the solution to this issue would be tricky, and would be more of a biology problem than a chemistry one. Though, was chemistry not biology? The point was, some level of processing could be done by a cybertronian's systems. There was an amount of unpredictability to some substances, but since Starscream had consumed earth fuels before, he had a general sense of how they'd impact a cybertronian body. They contained impurities that could not be filtered out properly by a cybertronian (especially one with his issues), but if he could create those filters…
Yes, yes! That would work! Starscream's wings wiggled. A use could be found for the portions that were filtered out. Perhaps the humans would want it. That part didn't matter as much.
And if they could filter the substances here, then couldn't they filter substances on other planets? As long as they avoided another dark energeon incident, it would be a perfect solution to their energy crisis! Starscream left the solution to sit under the hood for a moment, preparing for the next step of the process—
[May I come in?]
Starscream hissed at the intrusion that wasn't one, wings flicking. Tapping a pede, he glanced between the fume hood and the rest of his setup. It could wait—for now—but that didn't mean he had to be happy about it.
He sent an affirmative, and a moment later, the door slid open. Icebeam stared at him from the doorway.
"What is it?" Starscream asked, irritation seeping into his tone.
"We are watching a movie," Icebeam said, paying Starscream's irritation no mind. "I wanted to invite you."
Starscream curled and uncurled his fingers, the back of his processor still seething irrationally at the interruption. "Who else will be there?"
"Knock Out, Bumblebee," Icebeam said. He paused for a moment, posture stiff—likely answering a comm. "Ravage."
"Ravage?" Starscream said.
"Ravage overheard," Icebeam said.
Starscream laughed. What else should he have expected from one of the Decepticons' top spies? In peace, those skills had little use except for mischief.
"I'll come," Starscream said.
He had already been interrupted. The experiment could wait. Besides, he still had a lot of thinking to do. If it was a biology problem, he may need assistance. There certainly weren't any good ways to simulate a cybertronian's systems on Earth. It wasn't like he had access to any retrorats or glitchmice here. With Cybertron's death, there may never be any of them again.
Icebeam nodded. "Are you able to come now?"
"Yes," Starscream said, taking a step toward Icebeam.
The other mech headed to the entryway. As they both turned into the hall, Icebeam's optics met Starscream's.
"What were you working on?" Icebeam asked.
"Well—"
Starscream launched into an explanation, his wings rising. As the words tumbled out of his vocalizer, a momentum built, driving him to supply more and more details. Just as he was about to explain the difficulty he would encounter once he was ready to test the filtered substance, something gave him pause.
Icebeam's optics were following something. Starscream stopped speaking, and they stopped moving.
"What is it?" Starscream said.
"Nothing," Icebeam said. "Please continue."
"It's not nothing," Starscream insisted. "You're staring at something."
Icebeam hesitated before speaking. "You are very… passionate. I am appreciating that."
Starscream turned away. "You're lying."
"I am not lying," Icebeam said.
Starscream rolled his optics. The other mech could say that all he wanted, but it didn't prove anything. Icebeam was keeping something from him—it was just a matter of what. But whatever it was would have to wait. They had already reached the door.
Icebeam pressed to open it and a familiar golden blur flew out, heading straight for Starscream's pedes. Buster barked at him, paws scrambling against his legs. Starscream petted his head.
The mecha in the room watched them enter with no signs of hostility. Knock Out was splayed dramatically on one end of the couch while Bumblebee reclined on the other. Ravage laid across the back, paw dangling and tail behind Knock Out's head. There was just enough space for Icebeam and Starscream to fit.
Just as Bumblebee pressed play, the door opened. The movie was quickly paused again as the gathered mecha stared at the uninvited visitor. Soundwave stared back.
"Ravage," Soundwave said.
Ravage mrrowled in response.
"You did not tell me where you were," Soundwave said.
Head tilted and tail flicking, Ravage stared—no doubt sending a comm. A brief silence passed before Ravage sent another comm, this one available to the whole group.
[Mind if we add another mech?]
The group exchanged uncertain glances. Icebeam looked between Ravage and Soundwave.
"It is no issue," Icebeam said. "But we do not have a lot of room."
[Won't matter to him,] Ravage sent.
True to Ravage's word, Soundwave settled on the floor in front of the couch. Ravage leaped off the back of the couch, then crawled onto his lap with a purr. Bumblebee shrugged and hit play.
The movie was a human one—because of course it was—but the main characters were other squishy earth creatures. Though Bumblebee laughed at some of the more outlandish moments earlier on, Starscream found himself unamused. A quick glance around the room found him to be in the minority—even though the others were silent, they were fixated on the screen.
Starscream leaned back, nearly flinching as Buster hopped into his lap. He petted the dog, boredly waiting for the movie to end. At one point, the main character—a fluffy white dog—dangled a cat over the edge of a bridge. That moment finally got a snicker out of Starscream, which drew a quick glance from Bumblebee. Starscream quieted himself.
The movie went back to being dull. Ravage stretched in Soundwave's lap, motors purring. The dog and the cat he had threatened were forced to work together now, with the cat cleverly manipulating the dog to her will. Slowly, Starscream found himself rooting for the cat.
Then, through a series of events, the dog returned to his human only to find that he was replaced. Starscream's attention was drawn away from the movie as Ravage growled, then hissed and leaped off of Soundwave's lap. With an irritated rattle of plating, Ravage settled on the back of the couch again.
Soundwave stared up at Ravage, one hand curled into a fist and the other hovering above his lap. Ravage stared back, tail lashing. Shoulders falling, Soundwave turned back toward the screen. The dog in the movie dropped his toy and left his human with the impostor.
For a moment, Starscream felt small. To be so known, so loved—it was a thing he wasn't sure he experienced. But to be discarded, yes, he had experienced that. He glanced at Soundwave. The usually proud mech was hunched, fingers running along the seams of his arm plating.
Perhaps he felt the same way. Such a thing wouldn't have motivated Starscream in the past, but now he felt compelled to act. Part of it was practical—if they had something in common, they could ally—but the rest of it was much deeper and far more pointless. During the war, such an idea would never have occurred to him.
How could he go about it? Confronting him was out. What mech wanted their innermost conflicts made public? If Starscream were in his position, what would he want to hear?
[Megatron betrayed me too,] Starscream sent.
In front of him, Soundwave stiffened. Then, as a message came through to Starscream, he relaxed.
[Megatron—selfish. Only takes care of himself. Soundwave—should have known.]
[Do you think any of us expected it? I thought he would rather die than surrender. None of us—not even you—could have seen it coming.]
[Sold us out. Left us to rot. Pardons mean nothing.]
At times, speaking to Soundwave was like putting together a puzzle. He had a tendency to leave important details out, or omit entire words—something which did not carry over to his immensely detailed reports. In many cases, it protected him. The room for interpretation allowed others to take the most charitable one.
Though, Starscream had to wonder: did that irritate him? Did he know that what he said would never be what he meant? Did Megatron ever put words in his vocalizer the way that he put intentions in Starscream's processor?
[Yes, he did,] Starscream sent. [What was that about pardons?]
[Pardons—a cheap trick. Thoughtless at best. Megatron—still wants control. Autobots—uncharitable.]
On the screen, the dog watched as the set his human was inside of burned. He ran past the closing door to save her.
[I thought so, too. We are in this together, Soundwave.]
The dog on the screen led his human to an open vent, the fire burning around him. She was too weak to crawl. So, the dog barked, the sound echoing through the vent.
The next message Soundwave sent was an repeat of Starscream's own.
[We are in this together.]
The humans found the girl, and the movie ended.