Chapter Text
The meeting dissolved after that. Starscream was able to get away from Megatron, leaving him with his other issue. He fiddled with his arm guards again, fighting not to flutter his wings from the tingling anxiety that coursed through him. When they returned to the base, Starscream took the first available opportunity to peel away from the group, tucking himself inside his lab.
He removed his arm guard and stared at the scraped paint. All he had to do was keep the guard on. Then, no one would ever notice! But guilt and revulsion swirled within him at the idea. He would be using it to conceal the very thing it was meant to prevent.
And hadn't he vowed to stop doing this? Didn't he acknowledge it was impractical? What would hiding it do, other than tempt him to start the cycle again?
A knock startled him. Starscream nearly let out a squawk before catching himself.
[Is it okay if I come in?]
Starscream's plating relaxed. It was just Jetfire. He pulled the arm guard back on.
[You may,] he sent back.
The door opened slowly. Jetfire poked his head in before stepping through the doorway.
"Hi," he said quietly. "I saw everyone else when they got back from the meeting, but I wanted to see you too, so…"
Jetfire wrung his hands, optics falling to the floor. "Can I hug you?"
Starscream nodded. Jetfire pulled him close, wrapping his large arms around him.
"I'm scared," Jetfire whispered.
How cruel was it to bring a mech into the world just to suffer and starve?
"Me too," Starscream admitted. He squeezed Jetfire's arm gently, making sure to keep his claws away from the plating. "But we'll figure this out."
He couldn't say everything would be okay. He didn't know that. But he did know that they would keep trying, even when the universe was determined to kill them. How different was it from the entire rest of life, anyway?
Starscream renewed the embrace, waiting until Jetfire's plating relaxed before letting go.
"Feel better?" Starscream asked.
Jetfire nodded.
Starscream fiddled with his arm guards, suddenly remembering the mark. He sighed and looked at Jetfire.
"Can you go ask Skywarp to meet me here?" Starscream said. "I have something private I need to tell her."
"Okay," Jetfire said.
He drew away from Starscream, and after a moment of hesitation, left the lab. Starscream pulled at the edges of his arm guards as he waited. Skywarp would be here at any moment, and he…
He tried not to think about it. He had to do this. She would be angry, but it was necessary. She would want to know.
With a quiet whoosh of air, Skywarp appeared before him.
"What'cha need?" She asked, a false smile on her face. The mock nonchalance extended to the rest of her frame as she leaned against the wall.
Starscream steeled himself. "Promise you won't yell at me."
"Okay," Skywarp said, smile dropping. "I won't."
"I—"
Frag. He couldn't do this. His spark pounded in its casing. Why did he think this was a good idea?
"I… fragged up," he finished weakly, claws against his arm guard. "When I was alone, I—I picked up a bad habit. I've been try—trying to get rid of it, but just before the meeting…"
Starscream closed his optics. She was going to be so angry with him.
A gentle hand landed on his shoulder. Starscream flinched before he could remind himself that it was Skywarp.
He slipped the arm guard off.
"Oh," Skywarp said quietly. Her claws traced the mark. "Slag."
Starscream turned away. This was it.
"You're mad at me," he muttered.
"No!" Skywarp yelled. As Starscream flinched again, the rest of her words came quieter. "No. I'm not mad. I just don't know what to do."
"That makes two of us," Starscream said.
"Hah, yeah…" Skywarp said, wings drooping. "Two of us. Do we still have any of that blue?"
"I think so."
With two quick pops of air, Skywarp retrieved the paint. "Looks like we do!"
Starscream offered his arm to her as she prepared the paint. She took it gently, but hesitated before placing the brush down.
"It's been so long," she said. "Remember when you used to get all scuffed up after arguing with the Enforcers?"
The brush came down.
"They were better at keeping me in a cell than keeping me in line," Starscream said with a roll of his optics.
"Yeah," Skywarp said between brushstrokes. "They were. Thundercracker and I had to repaint you so many times. That yellow never wanted to stay on."
"It's a good thing I changed it, then."
Skywarp paused. "Yeah, a good thing."
Paint was one of the few things they had control over before the war. Every Seeker valued their paint jobs highly. Not a single Seeker would be silent if asked about the colors they chose. They onlined with a pre-chosen set of colors, but most changed them at some point.
This small freedom was a product of inattention. The Council—and by extension, the Enforcers—didn't care about what color their Seekers were. It began with Seekers requesting new paint jobs from their medics, and evolved into entire sets of smuggled paints applied when they were off shift.
(It turned out, mecha were willing to bribe if it meant a few extra days of freedom. Many Seekers—Starscream especially—were happy to look the other way in exchange for a jar of paint or a handful of energeon goodies. Who was going to report them? The other Seekers?)
Starscream had onlined with bright golden yellow and vibrant red plating. He didn't have much reason to alter it until Skyfire's disappearance.
"The red was nice," Skywarp said quietly. "But I always liked you in pink."
Starscream smiled. "I like me in pink, too."
Pink was the color of some types of energeon—particularly the kinds that would leave a mech woozy. The phrase 'pretty poison' had slipped out of the vocalizers of more than a few mecha after he adopted the color. Such attention gave a powerful rush, even when the mecha uttering it were beyond sleazy.
It was also the color of the insides of many organic creatures. At the time Starscream chose the color, this fascinated him. His shade wasn't quite the same, since it needed to match with the blue, but the influence was there.
Skywarp released Starscream's arm. "Done."
She put away the paint, but didn't warp away with it. Instead, she held it in both hands and sighed.
"How can I help?" Skywarp asked, optics on Starscream's. "I have no idea, so… thought I would ask."
Starscream stared down at his freshly repainted arm. The paint was still wet and pale.
"I don't know," he muttered. "I'm still trying to figure out how to stop this. Until the meeting, I thought I'd solved it."
Dirge's comparisons came back to him. This was his own private, lifelong war. Could Skywarp even help?
Gentle fingertips along his wings, hands holding him close—she could.
"Can I come to you?" Starscream asked, finally meeting her optics. "When I feel like slag and get tempted, or—or even if I end up doing it, can I come to you? Will you be there?"
"You can," Skywarp said, wings twitching upward in a show of sincerity. "I'll be there. And I won't be mad. I just want to help."
"I know," Starscream whispered.
☆☆☆
Popshot dragged Starscream out with a claim of important business. When Starscream asked for clarification, all he received was that it was important, but not urgent. So, still shaking off lag from recharge, Starscream followed Popshot along a familiar route.
[At the announcement, you were looking for forged mecha.]
Although Blitzwing was three mecha, the message was only tagged with one name.
[Yes,] Starscream replied. [We are.]
[We're forged.]
Starscream glided lazily on the wind as they flew over a lake.
[Are you volunteering?] Starscream asked.
[We talked. We're not against it, if it means we go home.]
Starscream drifted closer to Blitzwing. In his jet mode, he dwarfed Starscream. That wasn't unusual.
[Are you sure?] Starscream sent. [Reviving a titan shuttle won't be easy.]
Popshot swayed in the wind.
[Ha! If three mecha aren't enough to revive a titan shuttle, then I don't know what is!]
If Starscream were in robot mode, he would've rolled his optics. Blitzwing may have been three mecha, but they shared a single spark. Although…
[If the Autobots follow through, it won't be just you,] Starscream sent.
A brief silence. Then—
[I hope they do. It will make the process easier.]
They passed by a familiar forest, trees still regrowing. They sprouted from beneath the fallen ones, tiny green shoots reaching toward the sky. Starscream fought a shudder when memory file played and a fusion cannon hummed behind his audials, knowing it wasn't real.
[Did we ever tell you why we are this way?] Asked Icebeam.
[No,] Starscream sent. [You haven't.]
[It was before the Quintessons were eliminated. We had not yet learned how to make warframes, so the Council was looking for ways to increase the power of their soldiers. Our frame was one freshly forged volunteer among a handful.]
[Your frame,] Starscream sent. [But not you?]
[None of us remember before. We know what happened from the accounts of others, but we were not there. I am the oldest of us. I only onlined after it all happened. But we know we were experimented on, and it was painful.]
Starscream didn't know what he was meant to say, so he remained silent.
[I believe the experimentation created us, but we did not know about one another until long into the civil war. It is quite easy to notice something amiss when mecha complain to you about things you did not do, and you cannot access the majority of your memory files.]
Starscream huffed out a laugh, taking the cheeky tone for what it was.
[Why are you telling me this?] Starscream asked.
They were nearly to their destination. As Icebeam sent his reply, Starscream prepared to land.
[If this all goes wrong, we do not want to be the only one who knows our story.]
Starscream stumbled on landing, but managed to catch himself. Icebeam landed in alt, then transformed. Before sending a reply, Starscream made sure to catch his optics.
[I'll carry it with me, then.]
Icebeam nodded. [Thank you.]
Blitzwing would be fine. They had to be fine. But if they weren't…
A quiet click drew Starscream's attention as the human exited their home. Gleaming eyes stared from the catio.
"Hey, guys!" The human said, looking between Icebeam and Starscream. "I uh, didn't expect two of you to be here. But I'm glad you came!"
"You saved my life," Starscream said with an irritated flick of his wings. "Why would I not say goodbye?"
The human glanced back at Fergie. The cat mowed at them from behind the screen walls.
"You just didn't seem like the type," the human said.
Starscream hummed in amusement. "Maybe I wasn't, but I am now."
A bird chirped. Fergie's ears swiveled toward the noise, and with a quiet chatter, the cat followed it.
The human looked up at Blitzwing. "I got that dog food for you. And that nutrition book."
Icebeam crouched down. "Thank you."
After a short while of talking, the human brought out the dog food in their truck. Icebeam and Starscream loaded as much of it into their cockpits as they could. As they finished, the human looked up at them.
"Do you think you'll ever visit?" They asked.
"That depends on whether your rulers allow us back," Starscream said.
"If we can," Icebeam said. "We will."
The human smiled. "If we ever make a rocket that goes far enough to reach Cybertron, I'll visit you, too."
Starscream refrained from mentioning that there wouldn't be a suitable Cybertron for the human to visit. Instead, he opted to return the smile.
"Take care of yourself, human."
☆☆☆
Getting a bunch of boisterous mecha ready to travel was no easy task, especially if those mecha were Decepticons. They were already late, and the chronometer kept counting. Starscream sighed as yet another mech suddenly realized they forgot something and had to backtrack. But the exasperation came with a bitter realization: they all finally had things worth bringing.
At least they were ahead, compared to the other group. The Decepticons were split in two—fliers and non-fliers—with Starscream and his wingmates leading the former while Soundwave and his cassettes led the latter. Blitzwing opted to go with the non-fliers so that Buster wouldn't be confined to his cockpit.
Starscream had few belongings, despite his status. His rollator and Ulchtar were tucked safely in his cockpit. Skywarp, on the other hand, had to beg Nova Storm to carry some of the blankets from the nest. Apparently, they were all hers. Between that and the stacks of movies, there wasn't much space left in either Seeker's cockpit.
[Prepare to land,] Starscream sent to the group. [We've reached rest stop E.]
The rest stops were intended to give the ground-bound group time to catch up. No mech complained about the arrangement. After all, who was eager to meet with their mortal enemies just to head back to a wasteland?
Starscream transformed and landed, staggering to a stop. He swayed for a moment, fans quietly clicking on, and shook his helm. Today was a terrible day, but they needed to travel. As the rest of the group began to land, Starscream settled on the ground with a sigh.
A few moments later, Skywarp popped in beside him.
"You alright?" She asked quietly.
"Tired," Starscream said. "But I'll be fine."
"Someone could carry you, if you wanted," Skywarp said, idly picking at the grass. "Jetfire. Maybe Dirge."
Starscream looked away. "I'd rather not."
He had flown farther distances.
"I can hear your fans," Skywarp said. "You're straining."
Starscream laid his chin on his knees. Around him, mecha were in varying states of rest. Some were already in recharge, while others sat like him and Skywarp. Dirge, in particular, was stretched out beneath one of the few trees in the meadow. Nova Storm was on the ground facefirst a short distance away, wings swaying lazily as she recharged.
"Everyone is tired," Starscream said. "I can manage."
"But you don't have to."
Starscream startled at Jetfire's voice, falling forward in an attempt to evade the mech's sudden presence. As Starscream pushed himself back into a sitting position, Jetfire mumbled a quiet apology. He had three small cubes of energeon in his hands—one alone, and the other two perilously stacked. He offered the lone one to Starscream before offering one of the stacked ones to Skywarp.
"I just finished handing out the energeon when Skywarp sent me a message," Skyfire said. "I'd be happy to carry you."
The twinge of irritation that ran through Starscream's plating was smothered by guilt as he stared up at Jetfire. His gaze fell to his cube.
"I'll be fine," Starscream said.
No other mecha were being carried.
Skywarp's wings flared as she bared her teeth. "You fragging—"
Starscream flared his wings in response, flashing his claws at her. She paused, wings falling.
"I'm sorry," Skywarp said. "That's not going to help. I really want you to take a break. No one will think any less of you for it."
Starscream tapped his fingers against his cube. It wasn't worth pointing out that he was already taking a break.
"Fine."
☆☆☆
Jetfire carried him until the next rest stop. Starscream didn't want to admit it, but it was helpful—his fans were finally silenced. By the time they arrived at the final stop, they were already back on, though not as loud as earlier.
Fatigue settled over him as he sat next to his wingmates, awaiting the arrival of Soundwave's group. The fuzziness of his mind beckoned him to recharge. If he mentioned it, he knew Skywarp would want him to, but he couldn't. Any moment now, Soundwave would arrive and they would enter the Ark.
He would see Bumblebee and Knock Out again.
He would also see Megatron. He would be trapped on a ship, heading toward a dead planet, with Megatron. Why couldn't one of his assassination attempts have succeeded?
On the horizon, turned to silhouettes by the setting sun, was a crowd of mecha. Starscream stared as they marched forward. Eventually, the mecha flooded the final rest stop, grounders mingling with flightframes.
[You look tired.]
A message from Ravage. Starscream huffed and turned toward the cybercat, who had approached while he was staring ahead. Ravage watched him with a tilted helm, tail twitching.
"Aren't we all?" Starscream said.
Ravage glanced at Skywarp and Nova Storm, who were already in recharge beside him. Jetfire laid beneath them, also deep in recharge.
[You should be with them.]
Starscream rolled his optics, wings twitching. "Then who would be here to greet you?"
Ravage let out a quiet growl and paced. A few moments later, Soundwave approached, and Starscream knew the argument was lost.
"Command: recharge," Soundwave said.
"I don't want to," Starscream muttered, slamming a palm on the ground like a petulant newspark.
Soundwave tilted his head. "Query: Why?"
"I just… don't."
Soundwave sat beside Starscream. Starscream looked away, flexing his fingers.
"Starscream—stressed," Soundwave said. "Reason?"
Starscream sighed. "Why do you think? Any mech with half a processor would stress themselves out of it in this situation."
"Worries—reasonable. Recharge—necessary."
"I don't want to," Starscream repeated.
Soundwave stared.
"I don't want to," Starscream said again, shrinking in on himself. He buried his face in his hands, words coming out as a hiss. "I don't want to."
If he recharged, the night would pass, and they would have to leave. Then, he would be on the Ark with Megatron! They would make the long, long journey back to Cybertron just to starve on the empty planet.
He couldn't delay the inevitable, but if he didn't recharge, he would have more time. With more time, maybe it would hurt less.
[Enough of this!]
Starscream's wings thudded against the ground as Ravage leaped onto him, tail lashing. Before he could push himself back up, Ravage stretched across his chest. The cybercat purred, nuzzling Starscream's neck.
[This is my recharge spot, now,] Ravage sent. [You'd better stay nice and still for me.]
It was difficult to resist the call of recharge with a purring cybercat on his chest.