Chapter Text
The energeon conversion project was going well, despite many interruptions. Starscream couldn't help being irritated at each one, even when he knew it was bound to happen. Every hour not spent refueling, recharging, or with others was spent on the project.
This interruption came in the form of his own body. He rose that morning sluggish, his optics refusing to focus completely. But there were no error messages, so he pushed on.
He grabbed a cube from the dispenser and took it to his lab, determined to start working as soon as possible. But, as he gripped the lid of the cube to open it, his fingers slipped. As he adjusted his grip, the cube nearly tumbled out of his hands. Eventually, he managed to take his morning fuel, but not without struggle.
This strange lack of coordination carried over to the project. After the fifth time he nearly dropped a piece of equipment, Starscream placed the beaker on the table and stared. His plating crawled, and he sank to the floor. The overhead lights—which were loud and bright to begin with—were blinding, the buzz assaulting his audials.
Starscream hissed in irritation. What was wrong with him? Was this a virus?
The thought of leaving the room—of getting up—was unbearable. Despite knowing he needed to get up, to be productive, the back of his processor wanted nothing more than to stay on the floor forever. Pushing on the counter, he forced himself up, only to crumple when a stabbing pain attacked his leg.
On instinct, he sank his dentae into his arm, the other clutching his leg. The frag? What was happening?
He needed to… what did he need to do? The medbay! Knock Out—he needed to comm Knock Out!
But what did he…
Starscream stared at the floor. The lights turned off automatically. Was he truly sitting that still?
Eventually, the pain faded to a manageable amount, and Starscream's processor became clearer. He forced himself up, leaning against the counter, and made his way out of the room. If he could make it to the medbay, he was going to.
Loath as he was to admit, it was likely that another bout of crystals was responsible for this. After Knock Out had obtained the results from his sample, he'd been confident of the cause, but maybe he'd misjudged it. Or, maybe the dosage wasn't sufficient.
Starscream activated the touchpad in front of the medbay and leaned against the frame as the doors slid open. Three mecha stared at him from varying positions in the room. Starscream made optic contact with Knock Out, prompting the mech to react. Knock Out strode across the room as Ratchet and Hook went back to whatever it was they were doing.
"Let's sit," Knock Out said, leading Starscream toward a berth. He pulled the curtain around them, then turned back toward Starscream. "What seems to be the problem?"
"My leg," Starscream said. "I think it's crystals again."
"It probably is."
Despite that, Knock Out still did a range of motion test and felt the plating. It was a boring—but necessary—part of the process. Then, as expected, he took another energeon sample.
"I'll be back," he said, slipping through the curtain.
Starscream was left to sit alone. An object at the side of the berth caught his attention. It was made of stone, with a swirly black and white coloration. Were those eyes? Starscream leaned toward it. Was that a face?
It looked an awful lot like Knock Out. Starscream snickered.
Then, Knock Out pushed himself through the curtain, syringe in hand. He paused, looking from Starscream to the object.
"Ah!" Knock Out exclaimed. "You found my latest piece. What do you think?"
Starscream had no idea.
"Is it you?" Starscream asked.
Knock Out's posture straightened, standing proud. "Yes, it is. I carved it myself."
Starscream hummed. Knock Out stepped closer and prepared the syringe.
"This is just some nanites to promote healing," Knock Out said. He pulled the syringe out gently, then prepared a pain patch. "You know what this is."
Starscream relaxed as the pain faded. It wasn't completely gone, but it was ignoreable. Knock Out rose, optics briefly landing on Starscream's arms.
Slag. How had he forgotten?
"It's alright," Knock Out said quietly. "Can I see?"
Starscream offered his arm and turned his head away. Knock Out took the arm gently, turning it in his hands.
"Nothing a little paint can't fix," Knock Out said.
As Knock Out exited through the curtain again, determination rose within Starscream. He couldn't keep doing this. It was embarrassing and inconvenient. There had to be a solution, and he would find it.
Knock Out emerged from the other side of the curtain, paint and brush in hand. Starscream offered his arm and Knock Out began to paint.
"We analyzed the sample," Knock Out said. "It goes a lot faster with three mecha than one."
"What did you find?" Starscream asked.
"You're right. It's more crystals," Knock Out said. "The medicine we had you on can dissolve some of them, but it's not as effective as filtering your energeon in the first place. I can place an order for filtered energeon."
As if it hadn't sank in before, revulsion grew inside of Starscream—there was something wrong with his body, and it wasn't fixable. All of the other mecha would get their regular cubes—ones he'd drank all his function, ones that were hurting him.
Would the filtered energeon taste the same?
"You're not the only mech with fuel restrictions," Knock Out said, as if sensing Starscream's concerns.
"Okay," Starscream said.
The words were weak, barely able to exit his vocalizer. The rest of the visit passed in a numb blur, and suddenly, he was back in his room. He swung his arm, slamming it against the wall. The crack echoed through the room, and he froze.
No. He just told himself he couldn't do this.
He dug the container of energeon gummies out of his desk and popped one of the few remaining ones in his mouth, using the taste to distract himself. His dentae ached.
What could he do?
There was no concrete way to stop himself—he knew that. Redirection, like he was doing now, was only so effective. He needed something that was not himself. What could he use?
Then, he found the answer. He tore strips off the blanket on his berth and wrapped them around his arms. The sensation wasn't the same, but it was enough to protect his plating.
With the door locked from the inside and the lights off, Starscream curled up in the one place no other mech could intrude, and let himself fall apart for the thousandth time.
☆☆☆
He couldn't wear strips of torn blanket everywhere. It would be suspicious, and would hinder the transformation process. So, with stealth reserved only for war, he snuck his way into a storage room. It took some time, but he found the right materials.
Soon, he had two stylish arm guards. If asked, he would just say it was to protect his paint. He was known to be vain, after all. No one would ever ask what his paint needed protecting from.
☆☆☆
On the way to his lab, a bright yellow object caught his optics. Starscream stopped to examine it. It was tiny, squishy, soft, and most definitely not alive. The outer surface of the object reminded him of a blanket, though he didn't know any blankets that were oblong. It had tiny, circular appendages sticking out of its back that reflected light, and a dark stripe on its body.
There was some sort of earth creature it resembled, but Starscream couldn't recall its name. He took the object with him to his lab, placing it on a counter he barely used.
Starscream set out the supplies for the day's tests. Then, he stood there.
And stood there.
And stood there some more.
He was wasting time. With an irritated grunt, he prepared the first test. Or, he would have, if his processor would calculate the correct numbers. The calculations refused to run, catching on every possible snag, and eventually just becoming meaningless symbols.
First, that day when he could barely hold his beakers, and now this? Starscream hissed in irritation and tapped his pede. He could still work. He had to still work, because what else could he do? He wanted to do this! On any other day, he could do this with ease! What was the issue?
Starscream checked his fuel levels. They were low, despite the lack of alert. Perhaps that was the problem? He sighed and left the lab, heading for the mess hall. No mecha looked when he entered, but their chatter still pierced his audials. He lowered the sensitivity, but it didn't help.
When he entered his code on the dispenser, he was reminded of his new fuel. The color was slightly off, and it was thinner than regular energeon. But from a distance, no mech would be able to distinguish it.
He walked back across the mess hall, but something gave him pause—A flash of purple and bright yellow. He turned and his optics met with Skywarp's. Beside her, Nova Storm stood. Skywarp held an arm out, preventing Nova Storm from moving. Starscream looked away.
He stepped out of the mess hall, popped the seal on his cube, and drank. It was the least flavorful energeon he ever tasted. Not even the watered down sludge he and his mecha drank while he led the Decepticons was this bland. But, knowing it was his only option, he forced it down.
It coated his mouth in a disgusting residue. He smacked his lips, trying to get it to go away. As it refused to disappear, he tapped a pede.
"I'm just saying, Warp—"
Starscream froze as the door to the mess hall slid open. Skywarp and Nova Storm. No. He couldn't stay here. He opened the door to the nearest room, not caring to read the label.
It was dark. If not for the glowing visors at the back of the room, it would've been pitch black. Starscream squinted at the sight, slowly recognizing the mecha on the floor.
"Soundwave?" He muttered.
Soundwave tilted his head toward him. Ravage, who was sitting atop his chest, did the same.
[You can stay,] Ravage sent. [But be quiet.]
Starscream nodded and sat on the floor. The room was small, so he was an uncomfortably short distance away from Soundwave. What was going on here?
They sat in silence. Starscream closed his optics. The lack of noise—machine or otherwise—was pleasant. Slightly unsettling, but pleasant.
Then, he was shoved sideways. He cut off his own startled yelp as he landed on top of Soundwave. A set of paws landed on him, a small glowing visor revealing the culprit: Ravage.
[Why?] Starscream sent.
Ravage stretched on top of him, then curled up, engine purring. The pressure and vibration was soothing. Soundwave's tape deck dug into his dorsal strut, but he found he didn't mind. Something about it oozed safety, and he found himself pleasantly drifting away.
Then, he remembered. Gentle hands, the brush of a wing against him—
Ravage shifted on his chest, nose shoved into his neck. The purring, now closer to his audials, drowned everything else out. He fell into a peaceful recharge.
When he woke, Soundwave was still beneath him. Ravage was halfway off his chest, legs dangling. The brightness of Soundwave's visor increased, and he stirred. Starscream prodded Ravage, who stretched, then slid off of him.
As they both sat up, Starscream turned to Soundwave.
"Why?" He asked quietly.
Soundwave looked away. Ravage, with a shake of plating, walked between the two mecha.
[Things get loud sometimes,] Ravage sent. [Recharging in a quiet place with allies helps.]
Allies… right. That was what they were.
Ravage glanced between Soundwave and Starscream before adding, [Plus… without Rumble and Frenzy and… others… there's a lot less weight. You made up for it.]
Starscream hummed in amusement.
"Well," Starscream said quietly. "I wouldn't be opposed to… doing this again."
Soundwave finally looked at him. After a quick rub of cheek plates against Starscream's arms, Ravage returned to Soundwave.
[How about tomorrow night?]
☆☆☆
Recharging with Soundwave became a regular occurrence. Neither of them spoke about it, but that wasn't a bad thing. There was an undercurrent of understanding beneath the silence. They typically spent the nights in Starscream's room, which was a surprise to realize. He assumed it was because Soundwave's was cold and empty.
The lapses in concentration faded away, though the occasional off day still plagued him. He was making decent progress. Though, an interruption came to him yet again.
[Let me in?]
The request was undeniably Soundwave. Starscream sighed and sent him an affirmative. A moment later, the door slid open. Soundwave walked through the doorway with two energeon cubes in hand. He offered one to Starscream.
Starscream tapped a pede. His fuel levels were low, so it wasn't unneeded, but…
Soundwave drew backward—slightly, nearly imperceptibly, but backward nonetheless.
"I can't drink that," Starscream said.
"Query: Why?" Soundwave said, bringing both cubes to his chest.
Starscream tapped his pede harder. It thunked against the floor loudly. The words refused to exit his vocalizer.
"Dietary restriction," He finally spat out.
Soundwave nodded, undeterred. "Query: Starscream and Soundwave—to the mess hall?"
"Sure."
The halls were empty as usual—at least until they were nearly there. They came to a stop as a familiar voice called out from around the corner.
"Soundwave! I've been looking for you."
Megatron stepped around the corner, something between a smile and a neutral expression on his face. It was soft in a strange way, but not completely friendly. His gaze hardened when his optics landed on Starscream.
"I wanted to discuss something," Megatron said.
"Soundwave—on break."
Megatron hummed. "That never stopped you before."
"Soundwave—now takes breaks."
"Really?" Megatron said.
"Really," Soundwave repeated. "Soundwave—on break."
"That doesn't mean—"
Something about the interaction irked Starscream, so he jumped into action.
"What about it don't you understand?" Starscream said. "He's occupied. Talk to him later, afthelm."
Megatron's optics turned toward him, burning.
"Starscream," He said in that special tone. "This doesn't concern you."
Starscream fanned out his wings. "Soundwave is spending his break with me, so yes, it concerns—"
"What is that on your arms?"
At some point, Starscream had waved them in front of himself. The arm guards were right in Megatron's line of sight.
"Arm guards," Starscream hissed.
"What for?"
Starscream stomped his pedes. "To guard my arms! What else would they be for?"
Megatron raised his brows. "They look strange."
Starscream flailed his arms, wings flicking. "Well… I think they look stylish! Maybe you just have no taste!"
Megatron rolled his optics.
"Whatever," Starscream hissed. "We're getting off topic. Go bother Soundwave some other time."
Megatron harrumphed and glared at Starscream.
"You'd better not be planning anything."
Then, he turned away and walked back down the hall. Starscream watched him leave, then looked at Soundwave.
"Mess hall," Soundwave said, pointing ahead.
"Yes," Starscream said. "Let's put this behind us."
The rest of the walk was brief. They entered, Starscream retrieved his filtered energeon, then they turned to leave. Motion caught Starscream's optics. From a nearby table, Blitzwing waved at them. Ravage sat on the table—not the seat, the table itself—beside him, tail held high. Next to Ravage was Bumblebee and Knock Out, who were both paying significantly less attention.
Starscream and Soundwave exchanged glances before taking a seat at the table. Starscream sat next to Blitzwing. The fuzziness of his optics made it clear that Popshot was in control at the moment. They exchanged a brief greeting before Starscream popped open his cube.
[How's the energeon?]
A comm from Knock Out. Starscream glanced at him and sent a reply.
[Bland.]
[We might be able to flavor it. I'd have to check, but I'm fairly certain it can be done.]
What a relief.
[Please do.]
Popshot and Bumblebee were speaking about something—some sort of human game about capturing monsters. Starscream didn't have it in him to pay attention. He could barely parse the conversation over the others happening in the area.
A flash of familiar purple caught his eye and he—unwisely, treacherously—followed it. Skywarp laughed with some other mecha, arm wrapped around Nova Storm. Starscream's spark hummed painfully.
Beside him, Soundwave shifted, as if uncomfortable in his seat.
[Soundwave—misses Rumble and Frenzy. Soundwave—knows how it feels.]
Starscream nearly jumped at the message. He sighed as he processed it.
[Thank you, Soundwave.]
Soundwave sat up straighter in his seat.
[I just… wish I could fix things, but I don't even know where to begin. I attacked them like a rabid turbofox. They're right to stay away from me.]
[Soundwave—with you. Soundwave—also attacked.]
[It's different.]
[Query: How?]
It just was. Starscream didn't know how to explain.
[Can we stop talking about this?]
Soundwave nodded.
☆☆☆
Starscream woke to a light tapping on his face. He swatted gently at Ravage, who leaped out of the way with ease. As he sat up, so did Soundwave.
"We're up," Starscream muttered. "What's the issue?"
[Bumblebee is in the hall,] Ravage sent. [Causing a commotion.]
"Over what?"
Tail flicking dismissively, Ravage trotted toward the door. [No idea. But he's more likely to talk to one of you than me.]
"Ravage—does not want to deal with it," Soundwave said, the words laced with tired static.
[So?]
Ravage opened the door and scampered into the hall. Starscream exited afterward, finding the subject of conversation almost immediately. Bumblebee was feeling along the walls, gaze downcast as he mumbled to himself.
"What's your issue?" Starscream asked.
Bumblebee jumped. "Oh! Starscream…"
Starscream tapped a pede. He'd been woken from recharge hours early, and his fuel levels were low. This was draining his very limited patience already.
"I'm looking for something," Bumblebee said. "I thought I might've dropped it around here."
Starscream put his hands on his hips and leaned forward. "What are you looking for?"
"It's, um," Bumblebee stammered. "Nothing important, really. Just a tiny, little… thing."
"A thing," Starscream repeated. "How descriptive."
Bumblebee waved his hand nervously. "Yeah, yeah… um. Just a thing. Very small. Can fit in one hand."
"What is it?" Starscream asked, flicking his wings.
"Um. A, uh. A thing."
"You're not going to find it if you won't tell anyone what it is!" Starscream hissed. "Just say it!"
"Well, uh—it's kind of embarrassing—"
Starscream swept his arms wide. "What can be more embarrassing than this?"
Soundwave came from behind Starscream. "Starscream—stressed. Calm down."
"Frag off," Starscream hissed.
Soundwave turned away and started walking down the hall. "Fragging off."
Then, he paused, turning back toward Starscream. "Query: Starscream—wants morning fuel?"
Starscream waved him away. "Yeah, sure. Whatever. Go away."
Soundwave threw his head backward (the closest the mech could come to an amused roll of his eyes) and continued his stroll down the hallway.
"I… yeah," Bumblebee said quietly. "You know, you're right."
Starscream sighed. "So, what is it?"
"A stuffie."
"And what's a stuffie?"
Bumblebee blinked. "Uh. A little soft thing that usually looks like a… um. A creature. The one I'm looking for is a bee."
Starscream stared at him.
"It's round, and yellow with black stripes," Bumblebee added.
"Like you," Starscream said.
"Like me."
Starscream hummed. He knew exactly where it was.
"Come with me," He said, waving Bumblebee toward him.
Bumblebee followed him to his lab. Starscream opened the door, stuck himself halfway through, and grabbed the 'stuffie' on the counter. He handed it to Bumblebee, whose optics were wide.
Bumblebee grabbed the stuffie with a speed unparalleled and squished it against his chest. He may have let out a squeal, but it was so quiet that Starscream's audials could barely pick it up.
"Thank you," He whispered.
Starscream shrugged.
"I mean it," Bumblebee said. "It's… it's really important to me. And you didn't make fun of me, or take it apart, or—"
"Why would I do that?"
There was nothing to gain from taking it apart. Sure, he could blackmail Bumblebee, but what for? It wouldn't help him with his project.
Bumblebee chuckled nervously. "Well, cute little things like stuffies don't really… fit with my image."
Starscream tilted his head. "Your image?"
"You know!" Bumblebee said. "Super cool war hero scout Bumblebee!"
Starscream fought not to laugh. Sure, the scout was respectable on the battlefield, but nothing about him had ever been cool. But whatever. Maybe other mecha had worse taste.
"Who cares?" Starscream said. "Things are cool because you do them. You don't do them because they're cool. If 'super cool war hero scout Bumblebee' likes stuffies, then liking stuffies is cool."
It was simple and obvious. To follow trends was to be, well, a follower. True leaders acted with confidence and let their followers mimic it. So, why bother caring what other mecha thought about such trivial things?
"I… hadn't thought about it that way before."
Starscream fluttered his wings. "Well, that's me. Always thinking in new ways."
After a moment of silence, he added, "What is the appeal of these little things, anyway?"
And that was how Starscream received a tour of Bumblebee's exclusively bee-themed collection. How did he get so many? Why were there so many bee stuffies? How did he come up with unique names for all of them?
At least he walked out of there with a promise from Bee that he'd find one for Starscream, too.
☆☆☆
He named it Ulchtar, because Bee insisted that it needed a name. It was a long, thin silver creature with a large, hooded head. Bee had called it a snake, and the name was familiar. Ulchtar spent the majority of its existence sitting on Starscream's berth, occasionally wrapped between him and Soundwave as they recharged.
Starscream woke, optic feed fuzzy, to Soundwave stirring. He grumbled, but Soundwave gently pushed him aside and climbed out of berth. Ravage was already gone, likely on the prowl for someone to pester.
"Query: Accompany Soundwave to the mess hall?"
Starscream's limbs were heavy. The back of his processor attempted to coax him back into recharge. He checked his fuel levels, since alerts didn't seem to be sending lately. They came back low, but he felt no urge to refuel.
"No," Starscream muttered. "'M recharging."
Soundwave stared at him for a moment. Then, he left. Starscream closed his optics and drifted back into recharge.
When he woke again, his fans were on. The room was covered in static—or was that his optic feed? His helm hurt. He grabbed Ulchtar and squeezed him against his chest. He rolled himself over, a pale blue gleam catching his optics.
Beside the berth was a cube of energeon—his energeon. Soundwave really didn't have to do that. Starscream squeezed Ulchtar harder. How long had he been in recharge?
His chronometer gave the answer. The day was nearly half gone. Starscream checked his fuel levels. His tank was nearly empty, so he forced himself to sit up.
With weak hands, he choked down his fuel. As soon as he finished, he slumped in the berth, optics drifting shut. He woke briefly when Ravage hopped into the berth and curled up next to him a few moments later.
A gentle hand landed on his shoulder. He faded out of recharge, muttering unintelligibly. His helm hurt even more now, and his fans were way too loud.
"Starscream."
"Soundwave," Starscream muttered.
"Starscream—afflicted by virus. Query: Visit medbay?"
Starscream attempted to get up, barely even lifting himself before he fell back into berth. "'M tired. Can't get up."
Soundwave tilted his helm. "Soundwave—can carry you."
Starscream hummed affirmatively. Soundwave placed his hands underneath Starscream and gently lifted the other mech to his chest. Starscream leaned into him, Soundwave's spark humming quietly against his audials, magnified by the material of his cassette slot.
When Starscream was finally aware of his surroundings again, they were in the medbay. He was still in Soundwave's arms, which might've registered as odd or even humiliating if he had the processing power to care. He barely had the ability to process the conversation around him.
"It's a virus, alright. It's been going around."
"Query: Best course of action?"
"I can update his firewalls, but it'll still be in his system until he clears it."
A hand skimmed across his arm, gently removed his arm guard, and popped open the panel that covered his medical port. As the connection was made, Starscream closed his optics, the light in the room suddenly becoming overwhelming. After a short time, the connection was cut.
"There. I should probably update yours, too."
Soundwave's arms shifted.
"Soundwave—is fine."
"You won't be when you catch it."
"Soundwave—is fine."
The second time was said with more force.
"Sure, sure. I'll remind you of that when someone drags you back here later."
☆☆☆
When the small group of mecha that actively sought out his presence heard of his illness, rather than doing the rational thing and avoiding him, they organized what Bumblebee called a "lazy day." They had run out of movies, so Soundwave suggested some sort of cooking channel. Knock Out had to leave just before they switched to it, since his shift in the medbay was about to start.
That left Blitzwing (of whom Popshot seemed to be in control at the moment), Bumblebee, Soundwave, Ravage, and Starscream to watch the program alone. As the human on screen described whatever dish they were about to make, Ravage's tail landed on Starscream's shoulder. He glanced at the cybercat cassette, who gave him a quiet purr in return. At his pedes, Buster's tail thumped against the floor.
Soundwave was leaning against him (or was he leaning against Soundwave?). The show of affection would've been embarrassing if Starscream had it in himself to care, but the helmache hadn't gone away yet, so he didn't. Instead, he pushed himself further into the other mech, who didn't seem to mind at all.
The human on the screen created some sort of thick substance and flattened it, then cut it into strips. They fed it into a small machine and turned a crank. The substance was squished completely flat between the rollers of the machine. Starscream's spark pulsed with a strange sense of longing.
"Wish that were me."
He didn't want to be extruded, specifically. But the crushing pressure held an appeal. His plating—especially around his chest—was often tight to the point it ached, held close to him by an ever-lingering restlessness.
"Query: Starscream—wants to be put through a pasta press?"
Had he truly let those words escape his vocalizer?
"I, um…"
They were staring at him. Oh, Primus. He sank in his seat, pulling away from Soundwave.
"On the floor," Soundwave said.
Too embarrassed to protest, Starscream obeyed. Once Soundwave was (seemingly) satisfied, he nodded his head, then flopped onto Starscream. Ravage jumped off of the couch and onto the both of them.
The pressure was… pleasant.
Popshot and Bumblebee stared at them from the couch. Then, Popshot stood up, tilting his head.
"Can't have a cuddle pile without me!" He exclaimed, launching himself at the piled mecha with a loud, cackling laugh.
Ravage leaped out of the way just in time to avoid being crushed. Then, with a graceful hop, the cassette landed back on the top of the pile. With a wide grin, Ravage sent a comm.
[Joining us, Bumblebee?]
"Um… sure."