Chapter Text
Revulsion lurked in the back of Safeguard's mind as plating crunched beneath his fingers, the mech in his grip screaming. He let out a growl at the audial-piercing noise and threw the mech across the battlefield. They crashed into another Decepticon, giving the Autobot fighting them a moment to finish both of the Decepticons off. He searched the battlefield for his next opponent.
While half of his mind reeled in disgust, the other half was calm, almost satisfied. This was what he was made for. It was beautiful to have a purpose. But buried beneath that was a tingling concern. For who? Himself? It almost seemed like it was.
The pieces that composed him only fed their knowledge to him in brief flashes. He knew everything they knew, but only as he needed to know it. That was fine. It didn't matter. He barely existed beyond moments like this, anyway.
Another mech fell beneath his grip, this time cloaked in fire. He liked watching them burn, but the repulsed half of him always got louder when he used the ability. Maybe it belonged to them. Whoever they were, their feelings were a nuisance. Even they didn't like feeling them half the time.
A flash of purple in the sky caught his optics. He grinned. The Air Commander was here. With a mighty leap, Safeguard took off, chasing after the streak of purple and cyan across the sky.
He slammed into her side, not caring that some of his own plating was damaged in the collision. As a much larger mech than her, any injuries he sustained were minor. She transformed into robot mode as she whirled from the impact. With dentae bared, she aimed her blasters at him.
One of her optics was shattered, so Safeguard dodged her poorly-aimed shots with ease. She was a fierce little thing, still yelling and fighting even after so many injuries. Before he caught her, she was already injured, leaking energeon from various places. Something about her was familiar, and he found that fascinating.
He summoned fire to his hands, ignoring the disgusted half's cries, and flung himself at her. She howled as he made contact, the air between them humming as she charged her rays. That couldn't happen, so with a quick pinch, Safeguard tore the rays from her arms and crushed them inside his fists. He let them fall from the sky, watching the Air Commander's wide optics follow them down.
Typically, she would find some way to evade him. She would pull herself free and escape, or throw sand in his optics or some other equally dirty measure and flee. He would spend the rest of the battle coming through every mech he could, but usually wasn't able to find her again. That was fine. The Autobots liked it when he took out a lot of mecha, anyway.
But this time she was injured. She struggled in his grip, wings trembling. With a weak kick, she screamed something, but Safeguard didn't listen. He grinned, satisfaction warming his spark. A thing in the back of his processor squirmed, deeply uncomfortable with whatever this was, but it was also the source of the satisfaction, so he ignored it. It needed to make up its mind.
Safeguard took one of her wings in his hand and wrenched it sideways. The Air Commander let out a cry. She swatted at him with her free hand. Safeguard rolled his optics and adjusted his grip, taking both her hands in one of his. Then, he returned to pulling the wing. It gave out with a screech. He let that, too, fall to the ground.
Prickles of pain alerted him to a new act of the Air Commander. He shook his arm, attempting to dislodge her dentae. When that didn't work, he seized her face, pulling her off his arm and forcing her jaw shut. He stared into her optics again. She stared back.
They were fuzzy, now. Her pupils couldn't quite stay in place, as if her optical feed was glitching. Considering the amount of pain she must be in, it probably was. Safeguard loosened his grip, readying himself to activate his flames one more time.
Something slammed into his face. It burned as he whirled sideways, losing his grip on the Air Commander. She plummeted, but only for a moment—a flash of magenta streaked through the sky, passing beneath her. As she clung to it, it continued flying. With a growl, Safeguard righted himself and chased after it.
It was swift—much swifter than him. He put as much power into propulsion as he could, determined not to lose the blur even as it spun and turned. Eventually, it landed, and he did the same. It unraveled into a mech.
Blue optics stared into his, and suddenly half of his mind was screaming. His helm cleaved in two as he dug his claws into it, desperate to stop it. His twin sparks pulsed, a storm crackling between them.
Then, he was gone.
♡♡♡
Skywarp regretted absolutely everything that led to this moment. Her spark hummed painfully as her warp drive stuttered to a stop for the thousandth time, each rev sending a stabbing sensation through her chest. The room spun, and the only thing keeping her from falling was the wall.
Where was everyone? She hadn't seen Thundercracker since the alarms went off. She hadn't seen Safeguard, either, which meant Jetfire wasn't nearby. Skyfire and Star? She had absolutely no idea.
Skywarp activated her warp drive again, and with an audial-piercing squeal, it came to life before sending her to her destination. It really wasn't supposed to make that noise, but it wasn't like she could do anything about it. Especially not in the middle of an enemy attack.
The room swam and ugh, slag—was this how it felt for everyone else when she warped them? It was like someone had trapped her in a can and shaken her a hundred times. She leaped to dodge stray fire, the impact sending a thud through her helm. She grit her dentae as a sharp ache spread across her helm. There it was. Yay.
She didn't have much more left in her. Normally, it was her fuel levels that prevented her from warping freely—the process burned a lot of fuel—but now it was her own body. Well, not really. It had to be the scrambler. That was when it started.
She hissed as a stray shot hit the edge of her wing, searing it. Another one came, and it occurred to her that maybe these stray shots weren't so stray. Wings fanning wide, she turned toward the direction of the shots and charged her rays.
Red caught her optics. A warframe stared down at her, grinning widely. He aimed his ray directly at her spark.
"Thrust," she muttered.
Thrust stepped closer. She fired a warning shot. He laughed, amusement coming off of him in waves. It drowned out the other fields nearby.
"Aww, you're all alone," Thrust said. "Want to surrender for me?"
Skywarp fired a shot at his wing. Thrust stumbled backward with a pained growl. He turned back toward her, charging his rays as he bared his dentae.
"You little fragger!" He spat.
Skywarp turned to the side, and—oh, slag, how did she miss that she was at the end of a hallway? All of the doors were locked the moment the base went into lockdown. If she couldn't activate her warp drive, she was fragged.
She sent the command, begging it to work. It activated, humming as it fired up. Agony shot through her chest, and she let out a muffled squeak as it sputtered out. Frag. Not good. Not good at all.
She was going to die. This was it. She was dead. There was no way out. Her spark pulsed in her audials. Her limbs shook as she backed herself against the wall.
Maybe Starscream was right when he kept insisting she learn ground combat. She always blew him off—what use did she have for that when she could just warp away? But now…
The air rumbled. Hope blossomed in Skywarp's spark as a familiar field wrapped around her. Thrust turned, but he was too late—a sharp crack rang out as Thundercracker's fist made contact with his face. He fell sideways with a groan.
"TC!" Skywarp yelled, launching herself at Thundercracker.
She tripped halfway through, landing awkwardly against Thundercracker's chest. Thundercracker pulled her closer, placing an arm beneath hers to support her. She stared down at Skywarp, searching for something. Then, she turned away.
"We need to go," she said.
Skywarp flinched. "I can't—"
"I know," Thundercracker said gently. "We'll be okay. We just need to get to Fire's lab."
She pulled Skywarp along as she ran to the edge of the hall. After a quick glance around the corner, she took off, hand still in Skywarp's. Some shots were aimed at them, but a quick retaliation from Thundercracker's rays or a booming electric crackle from her outlier ability were all that was needed to fend them off. The rest were too busy to notice them.
It was a little weird to be so unnoticed, and to have to few mecha attempt to engage—they all backed off so quickly—but Skywarp wasn't about to wish for a fight she couldn't handle. They rounded another corner, then Thundercracker stopped. She pushed Skywarp against the door and turned her back to her, shielding her with her wings.
"Stay right there," she said. "I'm asking Skyfire to open the door."
Skywarp fell backward as it slid open, landing in waiting arms. The large, careful arms pulled her back into the room. On instinct, she activated her warp drive, letting out a pained whine as agony pierced through her chest and it failed to start yet again. The arms released her into another, more familiar set of arms.
Warmth blanketed her. The air around her whispered comfort and safety. She buried herself in the presence. Gentle claws stroked her wing.
"You're okay," Thundercracker said quietly. "We're safe now."
This wasn't her TC. She knew that. But frag, it was so close. She could pretend. Just for a moment. Skywarp closed her optics and curled into the presence she so deeply missed, drinking in everything from the familiar hum of her engine to the softness of her field.
"We need to take the scrambler off."
Skywarp almost forgot that wasn't Starscream's voice. With her optics closed, it was the same. Beneath her, Thundercracker stiffened, her hand hovering over Skywarp's wing.
"We can't," Thundercracker said. "He'll find her."
"This is going to kill her!" Star spat.
"Better this than Galvatron," Thundercracker said. She returned to stroking Skywarp's wing. "I don't want to lose her like that again."
Star stomped a pede. "She's not her! You can't just… keep her!"
Skywarp opened her optics as Star's field washed over her, sharp and tingly. Her Starscream wasn't the easiest to read—his field always rippled with some sort of interference—and she was similar. But she'd seen Starscream upset enough times to know what this was.
"Star," Skyfire scolded.
Star flicked her wings and stomped her pede again, her field growing even sharper. She shook her head.
"No!" She hissed. "I'm sick of it. I've been good for you. Quiet and obedient like you want. But I'm not going to let you get her killed! This is hurting her."
"It's keeping her safe," Skyfire said.
"That's what you always say!" Star hissed, taking a step backward as she shook herself. Her field crackled, wayward energy dancing invisibly on Skywarp's plating. "We're safe, safe safe—always safe—but none of us are happy! We haven't been happy for a long time—"
Skyfire reached for her. "We're in the middle of a war, Star—!"
Star backed away, flicking her wings harshly. She bared her dentae and shook her head again. But the storm in her field subsided.
"My other self was right," she muttered. "This is hurting us."
Skyfire took a step closer. "Star—"
A loud crack echoed through the room as the air cleaved, sending a powerful whoosh across Skywarp's plating. Purple light coated the room as bright optics stared down at them. Thundercracker clutched Skywarp tighter, claws nearly digging into her plating.
"Did you think I wouldn't find you?" Galvatron said.
Thundercracker dragged Skywarp to her feet, backing away from Galvatron. Skywarp's spark pulsed in her audials, her plating snapping tight. She couldn't warp. Even if Skyfire opened the doors, it would take time they didn't have. Despite being shielded by Thundercracker, she was the only mech with weapons in the room. Did she have the energy to use them?
Galvatron stalked closer. Past him, Star dove behind a table. Skyfire glanced between the table and Galvatron before launching himself forward, barreling into him. Galvatron grunted in surprise, tilting sideways, but quickly turned to grapple with him. Thundercracker took the window to drag Skywarp across the room, tucking herself behind the same table as Star.
Star turned to them, gripping the handle of a hammer tightly in her hands. She handed it to Thundercracker. Then, she reached into the drawer and pulled out another. She and Thundercracker exchanged glances with a nod before she turned back to Skywarp.
"Stay here," Star said. "As long as Skyfire has him, he can't teleport."
Skywarp was familiar with that limitation. She had only bypassed it a handful of times. It was difficult to avoid teleporting another mech that was touching her without a lot of focus, which she usually couldn't obtain in the middle of a battle. Galvatron must have been the same.
A loud crash echoed through the room, followed by a groan. Star cursed quietly, peering around the edge of the table. Then, she took off in a sprint, Thundercracker behind her. Skywarp stayed behind the table, forcing herself not to avert her eyes even as Galvatron shrugged off their attacks like they were nothing.
Thundercracker's helm was slammed against the wall, her optics flickering as energeon leaked from the side of her head. Star was kicked to the other side, the hammer sliding from her reach. Skyfire was still on the ground, a puddle forming beneath him. The room vibrated as purple light came from the cannon at Galvatron's side.
No. Skywarp's claws dug into the leg of the table.
Galvatron held the cannon up, aiming it at Star with a grin. Star hissed, legs slipping from beneath her as she struggled to stand.
"I should put you out of your misery," Galvatron said. "After all, I have a far superior replacement."
Star flicked her wings. She shook herself as she pushed against the wall, finally able to rise.
"Do it!" She spat.
Galvatron cackled, the laughter shaking his cannon. "If you insist…"
Skywarp couldn't let it happen. She just couldn't. It was too familiar and she knew, with all her spark, that she couldn't sit there and do nothing. So, she charged her rays—begging them to summon at least some power—and fired.
The shot landed on Galvatron's cheek, turning his head and sending him staggering sideways. His cannon went wide, blowing a hole into the floor. He turned, a snarl on his face as his optics locked with Skywarp's.
"You," he growled. "I forgot about you."
He stepped toward her, raising his cannon. Skywarp didn't duck. He already saw her. The cannon would blow clean through the table and her. There was no point in hiding.
"I'm going to take your warp drive, too," Galvatron said. "Maybe I'll use it to find your world when I'm done destroying this one."
She tried her warp drive one last time. Her chest stung, and she immediately regretted it. It only gave Galvatron's cannon the opportunity to charge. He aimed it at her face, laughing.
A red blur flew at him, knocking him sideways. Glass clattered to the ground. Galvatron growled, attempting to shake the blur off, but it held on. Energeon dripped down his helm.
"You glitch!" He howled. "I should've killed you!"
He turned the cannon and fired. The room swarmed with sound. The blur flew into a wall as Galvatron was pushed in the opposite direction. Finally still, the identity of the blur was obvious. Skywarp fought not to activate her warp drive on impulse, the pull to be beside her too strong to ignore.
Galvatron rose with a groan. Energeon pooled in his shattered optics and wept to the floor. He stomped in the direction Star fell. She remained still, limbs twisted at awkward angles. Galvatron's pede collided with her body. He crouched before it.
Nearby, Skyfire stirred. Galvatron stilled. He staggered backward, and the room filled with the hum of his warp drive. With a crackling flash, he was gone.
Skywarp stepped in front of the table, gripping it as her limbs threatened to give out. Her plating ached from how closely it had snapped to her body. She stepped toward Star.
Star was still, but her fans whirred quietly. She was alive. In the center of her body was a massive hole that steadily leaked energeon. Skywarp knelt before her. Her optics landed on Skywarp's, dim and fuzzy.
Skywarp closed her optics.
"Star…"
☆☆☆
"Starscream."
Starscream grumbled and opened his optics. Laserbeak chirped in his audial, having settled near his neck sometime during the night. Buzzsaw lifted its head, trilling inquisitively.
"The frag is it?" Starscream muttered.
"Check your comms," Slipstream hissed. "You need to get up."
Starscream rolled his optics and opened his comms. Upon reading the message, he shot out of berth and headed for the door—aching joints be damned. His chestplates grew tight. He tapped a pede as he waited for Slipstream to catch up.
'You will come when called. No hesitation.'
He couldn't be late. Because he wanted to gain Galvatron's trust, not because his spark turned faster every time he thought of that moment, his arms pressed against the throne as Galvatron ripped his cable out. It wasn't because his arm stung at the thought. No, it was just for the mission. He wasn't afraid.
Galvatron stared down at them from his throne. Starscream fought the temptation to leave as he dragged his chair over. Fleeing wouldn't protect him—it would just make everything worse. A hologram appeared before them, and Starscream set himself to the task of pleasing Galvatron yet again.
His focus was shattered when he realized what the hologram was of. He forced his wings to still. There was no way he knew. He couldn't know. This was a coincidence. He could still—
"I have learned the location of the Autobots' new base," Galvatron said.
His optics burned into Starscream's. Starscream dug his claws into his arm guards. How had he figured it out? Starscream removed anything that could've possibly told him.
"How… fortunate," Starscream said. The words came out like his vocalizer was coated in sap. Why was it so hard to speak?
"Indeed," Galvatron said. "It was certainly a hard-won prize."
The rest of the meeting was spent planning. Starscream contributed as little as he could get away with, fighting the urge to sink into the floor. This couldn't have been his fault, but how else could Galvatron have found out? Laserbeak and Buzzsaw were on his side. Slipstream, and soon the rest of the Seekers, would be on his side. Who else could he have learned this information from?
What else did he know?
Galvatron called the meeting to an end. Slipstream crossed the room, waiting as Starscream moved to put his chair away.
"Starscream, stay."
Starscream flicked his wings. Slipstream glanced at him, her wings lowering, then left the room. Without her, the air was heavy.
"Come here."
Starscream abandoned his chair, each step he took toward the dictator vibrating through his body. His chestplates hurt. The dictator descended the steps to his throne. A hand landed against the side of Starscream's face—rough and deceptively gentle—and he flinched. The hand stroked the side of his face with a thumb.
"You're beautiful," Galvatron said.
At any other moment with any other mech, he would've preened. But the word was hungry, threatening to consume everything he was. Beautiful. Not powerful, not clever, just beautiful the way a sculpture or landscape was.
"Please don't call me that," Starscream whispered.
"Beautiful," Galvatron said again. "And finally broken. Others tried, but I will be the last. You're a hard one to tame, little turbofox."
Starscream spark pulsed at the nickname. The word was only ever used against him in a harsh tone, yelled from snarling lips. But Galvatron spoke it like it was something else.
A hand pressed against his arm guard, and Starscream shuddered. It pressed harder. He wanted to pull away, but he didn't know what would happen if he did. The dictator smiled at him.
"Good," he said. "Now stay there."
He released Starscream and turned back toward the throne. He pressed a button on the armrest, and a cube of dark energeon emerged from a slot. As he opened the top and took a sip, he turned back toward Starscream.
"You haven't refueled yet, have you?" He asked.
Starscream shook his helm.
Galvatron held the cube out in front of him. "Drink."
"Sir, I can't—"
Galvatron shook the cube. "Drink."
Starscream took the cube and took a sip. It was disgustingly bitter. He forced himself to swallow, even as every system in his body begged him to spit it out. He attempted to hand the cube back to Galvatron, but the dictator waved him off.
"All of it," he said. "You'll need your strength today."
Desperate to stall, Starscream asked, "What for?"
Galvatron nudged the cube. "You're coming on this raid."
Starscream's grip involuntarily tightened on the cube. He drank another bitter sip as Galvatron's optics burned holes in his frame, and he realized what this was: a punishment. They both knew sending him out there was a death sentence. Starscream had never hidden his weakness from Galvatron, because it was unhideable.
"P-please reconsider, sir," he begged quietly.
Galvatron nudged the cube again. "Drink. I've already made up my mind."
The dictator didn't let him go until he finished the entire cube. The fuel swirled in his tank, acidic bitterness threatening to burn through it. His frame tingled, anxious energy building within it. Dark energeon was poison. It was only a matter of time before he felt the effects.
Slipstream startled as the door opened. Starscream froze for a moment as she stared back at him with wide optics. Then, she ruffled and unruffled her plating and stepped forward. They walked down the hall together.
"What did he want from you?" Slipstream asked.
"Nothing important," Starscream muttered.
It wasn't important. Galvatron didn't threatening him, or hurt him. He just… he didn't know what he did. He didn't know why it made his plating crawl.
"I'm… I'm going on the raid with you, that's all."
Slipstream stopped. Her wings rose.
"You are?" She said. "That's wonderful. Just wonderful."
Judging by her gritted dentae and tense wings, it was most definitely not wonderful. Starscream couldn't help but agree.
"I know," he said. He fiddled with his arm guard. "We have to make our move soon. He thinks he has me. This is a show of power."
Slipstream scrunched her brow. "I haven't even begun talking to the Air Force."
"Then start now," Starscream said. "I don't expect us to move today. Just soon."
He couldn't keep doing this much longer. Galvatron was right about one thing: he was starting to break.
Slipstream hummed. "I need to brief them anyway. We can talk to them now."
Starscream nodded. He followed her to the hangar, where she summoned the rest of the Air Force. Soon, the room was filled with Seekers—give or take a handful of warframes. They stared at her expectantly, and she began her briefing. Just as she seemed finished, she paused.
"This is the plan Galvatron would have us follow," she said. "But I want us to do something different."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd, but no one protested.
"The time has come to end this war," she said. "We are starving and suffering, forced to raid the frames of our dead comrades to sustain ourselves. I will not let this go on any longer. We have a plan, but it must be undertaken with the utmost precision."
The optics of the crowd grew wider, brighter. Wings rose. The murmurs picked up again, voices distinctly excited.
"It begins with this battle. We cannot win it."
The murmurs grew more intense, breaking into barely hushed whispers.
"We'll throw this battle," Slipstream said. "Protect yourselves above all else, but if you're able to miss a shot or two, or take off earlier than you typically would, please do. Every missed shot brings us closer to taking power from Galvatron."
The crowd quieted. Slipstream put a hand to her chest.
"I swear it on my honor as Winglord," she said. "We will be free. No more trading tyrants for tyrants."
A Seeker stepped forward. Her bright green plating reflected the light of the room.
"How do you know this is going to work?" Acid Storm asked.
Slipstream glanced at Starscream. He flicked his wings, bracing himself, and stepped forward.
"I came here for the sole purpose of killing Galvatron," he said. "I have let him believe that I am meek and broken. He has fallen for my lies. But I have control of all surveillance systems on this base."
A wall panel moved. A tiny visor peeked out from it. He motioned them closer. Laserbeak and Buzzsaw flew over, each perching on a shoulder. He silently thanked them for their timing—the dramatic effect was nothing to scoff at. He reached up to scratch Laserbeak under the chin as it trilled.
"See for yourself," he said.
He paused to allow the crowd to speak among themselves. This next part would be difficult to convey in a believable manner, but it was essential.
"I'm from another world," he said. "One much like this one. I look familiar because I am familiar. My name is Starscream, and I am one of the Commanders of my world's Decepticons. In my world, the war is over, and we have all returned to Cybertron."
As expected, the crowd broke out in sound once again, this time outright speaking. Optics grew wide as wings raised. Without the ability to read EM fields and the mixed signals of the members of the crowd, Starscream had no idea how well his speech was being received, but he pressed on.
"There is a life after this," he said. "The war can end. We can go home. We have a future, but you must believe in it."
The crowd was silent. They stared up at him, endless optics burning not with anger or hatred, but with hope. Damaged mecha held even more damaged comrades, hands and limbs entangled in a show of support for one another. Starscream recognized many members of the crowd. Most stood beside others he knew weren't their original wingmates.
His spark warmed, in that moment. With dawning certainty he stood before them, something deep within him humming with purpose. This was his mission—survival, and all the things it required.
Slipstream retook control of the meeting. Eventually, it dissipated, mecha mingling as they waited for the call to leave. An itch crept through Starscream's plating. He lost the battle against scratching it, and was about to start clawing at it when his optics caught movement.
He forced himself away from the painful itch, standing tall as the mech approached. Another mech trailed behind them. Green and blue—Acid Storm and Ion Storm. Starscream raised his wings in greeting.
"Acid, Ion—" Slipstream said. "Do you need anything?"
Ion Storm shook his helm as Acid Storm began to speak.
"Something about this seems wrong," he said. "Galvatron is a control freak. You know this. So why has he given Starscream so much power?"
Starscream glanced at Slipstream. She stared back at him with a frown. It was true. Galvatron craved control. Something pinched Starscream's arm, and he fought a shudder, only to realize that it was his own hand doing it. He relaxed his grip and picked at his arm guard.
[We both know why,] Slipstream sent. [What do you want me to tell them?]
Starscream dug his claws into the guard.
[I'll handle it,] he replied.
He turned back toward Acid Storm.
"Galvatron is a fool," he said. "He thinks he has me under control, but he doesn't. The measures he has taken may have assured him, but they haven't given him any true power."
And how could they? Starscream had survived many impossible things. Despite copious near deaths, his spark refused to go out. It was one of the reasons he went through with this plan in the first place—he was the only mech that could safely attempt it. He had no true proof, but he suspected that he harbored some sort of outlier ability that was keeping him alive.
The itch intensified. It crept along his plating, slowly spreading across his frame. Starscream flicked his wings. He couldn't scratch it now. Acid Storm was watching.
Acid Storm narrowed their optics.
"Alright," they said, turning away. "I'll see you during the raid."
They began walking away, Ion Storm trailing behind them, but quickly paused, turning back.
"And, Slipstream—" Slipstream's wings flicked as Acid Storm spoke. "—if this goes wrong, you're on your own."
Acid Storm walked away. Slipstream fidgeted, her olfactory ridge scrunching as she ran her claws along her arms. Something squirmed inside Starscream's spark as she stared ahead, watching as Acid Storm started speaking with some other mech.
"We won't fail," Starscream said.
Slipstream closed her optics. "It's not that."
Starscream finally gave in to the urge to scratch. It did nothing to relieve the itch. His fuel lines burned, the itch radiating from them. The back of his processor screamed at him to just tear them out.
"What is it, then?" Starscream asked.
Slipstream sighed. She didn't speak, but the way her optics never left Acid Storm was still a reply. Starscream knew the feeling well—after he was captured by the Autobots, Skywarp had refused to come near him, angry with him for deserting the Decepticons. She eventually changed her mind, but until then, his spark ached every time he saw her.
"He cares about you," Starscream said.
Slipstream finally looked away. "She does a great job showing it."
Desperately, Starscream wanted to offer something, anything—but he wasn't sure what he could. Slowly and deliberately, he reached out, placing a hand on Slipstream's shoulder. Her plating tensed. She grit her dentae. But Starscream didn't let up.
He ran his hand down her pauldron gently. When she didn't push him away, he repeated the action. Her wings fluttered, and slowly, the tension drained from her frame. She leaned into the touch, closing her optics.
Then, they shot open. She stumbled away, wings low.
"Don't—don't do that," she stammered.
Starscream shrugged. "Okay."
☆◇☆
Jetfire stumbled away from Jetstorm as Jetstorm stared at him, optics wide. He turned away, drawn to the mech before him. The sun bounced off his plating, reflecting light in an unreal way. Jetfire reset his optic feed. Was this real? Was he actually here?
The itch still crept through Starscream's plating, and it worsened as he ruffled it, trying to settle himself against the wave that crashed into him. It was one thing to look the combiner in the optic. It was another to look into Jetfire's. His newspark's optics were wide, his mouth open to speak but no sound emerging. His plating was glittery, almost iridescent, reflecting the light in a stunning way. Despite that, his optics were dull.
Was he low on fuel? The Autobots shouldn't have been low—they had the aid of the humans to obtain energeon. A protective urge grew within him, but he forced himself to extinguish it. Still, he longed to close the gap between them and wrap his arms around his newspark, listening to the turning of Jetfire's spark.
There were scratches all over Starscream's plating—fresh ones, if the small bits of energeon were anything to go by. Had Safeguard caused those? No, they were too particularly placed. They were only areas Starscream could reach himself. Jetfire longed to close the gap between them, to take Starscream's hand in his and examine the lesions. Whatever was wrong, he could fix it.
He took a step forward. Starscream took a step back.
"Please," Jetfire said.
He wanted his creator back. Everything was so much worse with him gone. He would tell Skyfire and Star to frag off. He'd knock Prowl's desk over and demand Jetfire return to medical training. They would cuddle and Jetfire would recharge knowing he was safe, safe, safe.
Starscream stiffened at the plea. He couldn't come back—not when he was so close. Only a short time from now, he would be firing his rays on Galvatron's spark. The Decepticons would be liberated, and he would return home. Everything would be okay again. He would be back with Jetfire and the rest of New Decepticon Command, drifting away in their quarters, for once in his life truly safe, safe, safe.
"No," Starscream said.
Jetfire took another step closer. "Please. I—I can't…"
"No," Starscream repeated.
Jetfire closed the gap, hands closing around Starscream's arm. Starscream tried to pull away, but he held him tighter. He couldn't let go, or he'd leave again.
The endless itch combined with the pulsing of Starscream's spark. A shudder crawled up his dorsal strut. Not this. Anything but this. Large hands, gripping his wrist. Inescapable.
"Don't go," Jetfire whispered. "Please don't go."
Starscream closed his optics and fired. A scream echoed through the air. The wrong scream. Frag, frag, frag. What had he done?
"Jetfire!"
The yell came from his newspark's companion, who finally broke from whatever had stunned him before. He rushed to Jetfire's side as the newspark staggered, collapsing to his knees. Starscream turned away. He didn't want to see.
He gathered Slipstream in his arms and took off.