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Part 7 of Look to the Stars, for They Wish Upon You
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Published:
2025-07-25
Updated:
2025-07-25
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6/?
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These Stars Were Made for Falling

Summary:

"Pray," they say, "Pray to these walls."

The sick violet light of a fusion cannon in his faceplates, tons and tons of rock above and below and all around, there really is nothing left, is there?

Starscream has struggled and fought and prayed and wished upon every star in the night sky, but here, in this wretched cavern, his only company is his thoughts, his lies, and truths that won't stay buried.

Oh, and the annoying Autobot currently threatening him.

Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to Rock Bottom, where there's nowhere left to go but down.

Notes:

This is my attempt at a continuation of my previous fic, Rock Bottom. Here's hoping it goes well!

I am really trying to write something bigger, but I've hit quite a roadblock. In my extensive research, most of the Decepticons are psychopaths or well on their way there, and most of the Autobots are either paragon heroes or almost-anti-heroes who still "always do the right thing in the end," which would be fine if this wasn't CLASS WARFARE.

The Decepticons are mostly former slaves! I cannot in good conscience present them all as the villains! You can't tell me that the Autobots are even close to innocent. It's WAR! The Decepticons do need redemption arcs, but TFP had an objectively sad ending for them. Megatron just told 'em all to pound sand, and their whole cause was forgotten in Robots in Disguise 2015!

Chapter titles will be from various songs. First set is from Sucker

// - Communication through a sparkbond
>> - Sending out a comm
<< - Receiving a comm

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: Rock Bottom

Summary:

Starscream was not in the mood for this scrap. Hopelessly burnt out and desperate to get the Decepticons back on course, he will...begrudgingly...admit that he's been more than a little...unstable. His loyalty was taken as weakness, his treachery swiftly punished.

Unfortunately for him, Megatron notices everything.

Welcome to Rock Bottom.

Notes:

Starscream is my favorite Transformers character, and I love his Prime iteration, but I am so annoyed that he never gets a full redemption arc (Except Armada, but he died in that one). The abuse he suffers in Prime is downright HORRIFYING, and at the end of it all, Megatron just goes like "Welp, go choke or something I guess, peace out."

I feel like the mentor-student dynamic between Megatron and Starscream is very intriguing, and terrifying in a million different ways.

I have copied Rock Bottom to this fic's first chapter to offer people more context for the rest, since some haven't read the original fic. Sorry to everyone who thought this was an official update. I promise that I’m working hard on this fic, but the universe decided to give me the cosmic middle finger, and after writing a massive, sprawling outline, there was some glitch, and I lost most of it. Me being a complete donut, I forgot to save the stuff somewhere else. I’m rewriting the missing parts and hammering out the details, but it’s slow going. Sorry everyone!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Starscream scrambled to catch up to Megatron as he strode ahead. The honeyed light of the sun faded away, and the faint sound of pebbles falling tinkled in his audials, bringing sweet relief to his overtaxed optics. Nausea still churned his tanks, and he had to lean against the cave walls to keep upright.

 

Was all that processor damage really necessary? Well, if I'm going to purge, it'll be all over him anyway.

 

Deep in the belly of the mine, Megatron plopped himself down, leaning against the wall with a sigh. Then, gently patting the space next to him, he eyed the seeker expectantly. The sun had now completely disappeared, and there was a warmth down here that took the edge off the pain. The space felt intimate—a hidden sanctuary where every echo seemed to be cradled by the warm, damp air. Smooth veins of mica and quartz reflected the gentle glow of their optics, lending the walls a delicate shimmer.

 

Starscream’s wings twitched and flicked as he stumbled out of arms’ reach, nervously crouching down some paces away. His helm was throbbing and his vision swam, tanks lurching as he looked up at the warlord.

 

“Starscream, please come here. There is something important that I must tell you,” Megatron spoke softly, shoulders drooping with some unseen weight. The seeker whined and scooted further away, swaying in place as the cavern spun. A pair of steadily glowing optics met his flickering ones with an unforeseen softness.

 

“Starscream, I promise I won’t hurt you, just please come here. This conversation is long overdue,” Megatron patted the space again, an almost pleading look shining through the darkness.

 

Starscream’s optics widened as he backed up even more, shaking his helm vigorously before clutching it with a soft whine.

 

“Come and let me keep you warm, like when you were younger,” the tyrant sighed again, “Don’t you remember when I would call you ‘my little predacon?’ Come and sit with me as you did then. I swear, you will not be harmed.”

 

With the utmost hesitation, the seeker crawled to sit next to his master, plating rattling as he shook in terror. The warlord reached out, and he flinched away before a massive clawed servo gently rubbed at the soft spot just above his audial. Slowly, the pain began to ebb, and he carefully leaned against Megatron’s side.

 

"Just...just get it over with," the seeker muttered, "I have work to do."

 

In response, the warlord pulled him closer. The shaking gave way to a mounting exhaustion as his optics dimmed. The cavern’s shadows swallowed what little light remained.

 

“My dear Starscream, I owe you an apology,” he began, still gently scratching at the seeker’s helm.

 

“You must think me a monster, for punishing you so severely all this time. So much of your function spent in pain, with seemingly no rhyme or reason.”

 

Starscream looked up at this, optics shining with barely restrained hope as he hardly dared to whisper, “You-you can't really mean that.”

 

There's no way...does he?

 

“Indeed I do,” the warlord smiled softly, holding the seeker close, “I am sorry, deeply so, for never explaining why.”

 

“The truth is that you are competent and capable of wonderful things. Your potential is unlike anything I’ve ever seen,” at this the seeker nuzzled the tyrant, shuttering his optics with a wobbly smile.

 

“But, try as you might, you will never achieve greatness,” he cooed, making Starscream do a double take, “All these years I did not want to tell you this, because I feared it would break your spark, but I can deceive you no longer.”

 

“W-what?” Starscream whimpered, looking back up.

 

“The emptiness inside you, it is not your fault.”

 

Starscream tried to pull away from Megatron’s embrace, whining again, “What are you talking about?”

 

The warlord just kept smiling and rubbing at his audial, “You were created wrong, forged with the same tainting of the spark that made Sentinel Prime the monster he was. You try and try, but you cannot help but fail. All those around you wither and perish. Your very presence makes good, beautiful things twisted and rotten.”

 

“T-that’s not true!”

 

“I have tried so hard to protect the others from you. I wanted to shape you in my image and give you the same acceptance I have of your flawed nature. I tried to force some understanding of goodness and obedience into you, to beat the darkness out of your spark, but it has been in vain.

 

“I realize now that, try as I might, you will simply never be able to understand kindness or love,” he stroked his wings, claws prickling on the sensitive panels as the seeker’s helmache returned full force, “You were born broken, and no matter how hard you try to fight it, there’s no fixing you.”

 

At this, Starscream actually did turn his helm and purge his tanks, unprocessed low-grade pooling beside him. Everything hurt. He coughed and whined, clutching his cockpit to no avail. The tyrant only scooted over, dragging him a few feet away from the mess. The cavern walls were closing in and suffocating.

 

Megatron shook his helm, his grip tightening. “I am so sorry for your suffering. I kept punishing you, desperate to heal what could not be healed because I loved you. You were my ward, and I allowed you to spread your poison to the rest of the faction because I couldn’t bear the thought of killing you, of failing you so terribly. You kept trying to terminate me, and I let it happen because if you were focused on killing me, then the others were safe. But they spent three years suffering at your hands, and their pain made me realize that I will not always be able to protect them. Eventually, I will die, whether from age or in battle, and your rise will mark the end of what’s left of our dying race.”

 

Starscream struggled to escape, optic cleanser streaming down his faceplate as he cried silently. Still, the warlord held him and stroked his audial with that same sad smile, “You keep jumping off cliffs, only to find steeper ones waiting for you. You have ceased to be of use to the universe, so you shall simply cease to be.”

 

He held the seeker close to his spark, powering up his fusion cannon with a blaze of purple light.

 

“It is time for me to end your suffering.”

 

Starscream’s optics shuttered.

 

“This is it.”

 

Megatron chuckled softly.

 

“You’ve hit rock bottom.”

Notes:

Well...what do you guys think? I feel like Megatron has tried to kill Starscream so many times that this would be a particularly sinister take. Literally all he had to do later in the show was be nice to him ONCE, and boom, eternal unquestioning loyalty.

Oh yeah, and Starscream's a little concussed from his last beating. Don't worry about it, he's totally FINE. Totally.

Always happy to read comments, be they constructive criticism or otherwise!

Chapter 2: No Red Rose on Your Grave, You Poor Sucker

Chapter Text

“You keep jumping off cliffs, only to find steeper ones waiting for you. You have ceased to be of use to the universe, so you shall simply cease to be.”

 

He held the seeker close to his spark, powering up his fusion cannon with a blaze of purple light.

 

“It is time for me to end your suffering.”

 

Starscream’s optics shuttered.

 

“This is it.”

 

Megatron chuckled softly.

 

“You’ve hit rock bottom.”

“You were born broken, and no matter how hard you try to fight it, there’s no fixing you.”

 

Jack watched the scene before him with a sense of detached horror. His fists clenched and unclenched, again and again, nails digging into his palms as he watched Starscream whimper and writhe. His eyebrows twitched up when he saw energon pour out of the Seeker's mouth.

He'd seen the bots get a virus or two before, the nausea making them refuse energon, but watching Starscream cough and choke, all while the grey mountain sat fighting a grin, he could tell this was sickness of a very different kind.

 

"I am so sorry for your suffering..."

 

The boy stepped forward, fists shaking. Optic cleanser twinkled and flowed out of optics wide as the blood moon, streaming down silver cheeks.

 

"I kept punishing you..."

 

Another step.

 

Each breath dragged through the dry air, tight as a trigger—waiting, waiting.

 

"Because I loved you."

 

Another step. Oh, how familiar this was.

 

Arcee's warnings were scattered to the dust, falling before they reached his burning ears. He could hear nothing beyond the blood pounding through his veins.

 

Another step.

 

Large, blood-red eyes flicked over to meet his, mirthful light spilling over their edges and lighting the cloying dark.

 

The monster grinned, beckoning the boy over with one of the claws that weren't busy fiddling with the seeker's audials.

 

“This is it.”

 

The beast chuckled softly.

 

“You’ve hit rock bottom.”

 

"Leave him alone," came the weak whisper. His blood rushed and roared as he staggered under the weight of the sick violet light.

 

A deep breath forced its way in and out, taking the edge off the urge to scream. Red and blue metal flashed in his mind, a kind smile, a worn mask. Another breath squeezed its way out.

 

Starscream knelt there, optics dark and frame wracked with tremors. A soft clattering undercut the loud humming of a fusion cannon. The monster just chuckled. Arcee reached out through the dark, blasters deployed.

 

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" came the echoing cry, bouncing off the walls as it sought the beast's attention.

 

All optics turned to him as the world exploded in a blaze of light. Arcee's blasters slammed into the warlord, firing again and again and again as Jack's legs guided him to the seeker's side.

 

"Star-"

 

Swirling pools of blinding white turned to meet his eyes, and everything was set ablaze. White, red, blue, purple, silver, grey, colors flew, cried, and shouted as the cave crumbled around him. The thundering roar of falling stone crashed and clamored, rolling and-

 

SLAM

 

A boulder collapsed close by.

 

Too close.

 

BANG

 

More shots rang.

 

Another crash sent him tumbling as the ceiling continued to collapse.

 

"Jack! Get out of here!" Came Arcee's barked order from somewhere in the whirling cloud of dust. A rumbling sound erupted from somewhere. A familiar servo plucked him out of the way as cool metal pressed close.

 

For a long eternity, all he could see was darkness.

 

"Ar-" he coughed to clear the dust from his lungs, "Arcee? Is everyone okay?"

"Jack?" The mass of metal shifted as rose-blue light filled the cavern, "Are you alright?"

Arcee's optics and headlights illuminated the cavern, the walls gently coming into view as the dust settled, "Jack? Can you hear me?"

"Y-yeah, I'm-I'm fine."

His attention was wholly captivated by the brilliant crimson-white light that flared to life as Starscream's optics unshuttered. Shock sent him scuttling back into Arcee's clawed servos as the seeker groaned and shifted, sending the dust on the ground dancing in whorls and miniature clouds. Pebbles stung as they smacked his head through the shield Arcee provided, looking up, Jack cursed loudly.

The seeker's trembling frame stood scuffed and coated in dust, scratches and dents marring his plating as he shook. Creaks. Hisses. Groans. Each one hit like a warning.

Following the boy's gaze, Arcee swore in turn, vents heaving, "Scrap."

Starscream was currently the only thing holding up the ceiling.

Chapter 3: One by One, All These Bloodhounds Keep Coming

Summary:

Starscream, Arcee, and Jack are trapped in an unstable cavern, and only the seeker's waning strength keeps the ceiling above from crushing them.

Notes:

I might take some time to plan out more of this fic before posting on a regular schedule. I'm still not sure where I'm taking this, I just didn't want to end Rock Bottom on a cliffhanger.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Years passed in that cavern, centuries even. There was no other explanation for time creeping so slowly, for his agony to multiply and crawl its way through his arms, down his back, all the way to his thruster heels. Starscream tried again in vain to push the ceiling higher, only for it to bear down more. Pebbles and dust skittered, each soft clink firing like a warning shot and sending a jolt of pain through his processor. His EM field thrashed, writhed, and roiled.

Pebbles skittered. Dust settled. The pressure built.

"So, what do we do now?" Arcee pushed up against his arms, but backed off when it dragged a whine out of him. The dust clung to his plating and covered up much of the evidence of his earlier...situation, but if anyone discovered this weakness...

"Don’t—huff—don’t know!" Starscream gasped. "Asked already!"

"I know that, but you're the ideas guy," she snapped, then glanced at Jack. The boy was staring, unreadable.

At the seeker's snarl, she shoved his wing, drawing a pained hiss, "Don’t touch, idiot! Power'll go to weapons. Need all of it for anti-gravs!"

He swayed in place as another wave of pain nearly knocked him flat. The shadows pressed in like damp wool, thick and suffocating. Every vent came shallow, loud in the stillness. The air was too still, too patient. The cavern walls, once merely enclosing, now leaned. He feared that if he vented too loudly, the stone would hear and come closer. His helm swam with agony, the two-wheeler's headlights too bright for overtaxed optics.

Arcee backed off. "Alright, alright. No touching. I'll keep moving rocks."

A rumble shook the cavern. More rocks tumbled and rolled, the ceiling crushing closer and closer with impossible weight. His sensors rippled with protest.

"What was that?!" Jack ducked under Arcee’s protective servos.

"Hunk of junk moving under us! Can't hold it!" Starscream’s knees creaked. The ceiling sank closer.

He shuttered his optics.

"Don’t give up now, soldier!" Arcee marched over and grabbed his arm again. "You let go, we all die!"

We're going to die anyway. Crushed under shadows and violet sickness.

"What can we do to help?" Jack’s voice was small, but steady. He wiped dust from the Seeker’s pede.

"Fuel's low!" Starscream growled, claws digging into the sinking stone. An unpleasant screech resounded as his shock absorbers protested the additional weight.

HUD alerts screamed. Damage. Low oil. Systems failing.

Walls too close-

A servo reaching. A voice.

“You’ve hit rock bottom.”

Arcee nodded, grabbing a cube from her subspace and holding it up for him. When he wrenched his faceplates away, she growled and yanked the crest on his helm, "Don't be picky you slagging moron! Drink!"

A hand pulled at her leg, "Wait! Don't be so hard on him, Arcee!" That inscrutable gaze seemed to rake over the seeker, seeing right through him, "He's sick or something. He puked earlier. He might not be able to keep that down."

How much did that human see?

"'Puked?'" She faced the seeker, releasing his crest as his optics shuttered, faceplates scrunched in pain, "You mean he purged?"

Her frustration melted away as her expression softened, "You sick, big guy?"

"N-no," he whispered, "No. I-I just-"

The last thing he wanted was for the two-wheeler to bring up his...humiliation. A virus would explain his condition, and he really did need fuel. His spark stuttered in his chamber, pounding ever louder. 

A cool servo on his helm drew a wisp of a sigh. Her field brushed his, trying to ease...something. He couldn't quite recognize what the softness in it meant.

"You're warm. I think you caught something. Want me to inject it instead?"

He hissed. No way he would let some Autobot poison him!

It hurts it hurts it hurts can't take it please make it stop

Would letting go really be all that bad?

 

Be not afraid. Keep steady, little bird.

 

His spark fluttered. That voice. Not Megatron’s. Deeper. Older. Still.

 

Who are you?

 

Arcee grunted. "I wouldn’t poison you. We'll die too, remember?"

He relented with a nod.

"Brace yourself, keep your combat systems offline," she murmured again, servo on his shoulder. He fought the urge to twitch away from the touch as the pinprick sting of a needle reached an energon line near his abdominal tubing, "Done. That's a full filtered cube right there. I can give you coolant too, just give me a moment-"

"No coolant," he muttered.

She frowned. "You're overheating. Come on, I can lower your temp."

Starscream shook his helm with vigour before whining and swaying in place. Creaks and groans echoed in warning.

Below him was death, or maybe death was right here, the broken cog in the machine-

"No coolant tanks! It'll just vent out!"

"You don’t have coolant tanks? How do you cool down?!" 

"Vents."

"Then shut your heating coils."

"No heating coils," He shuttered his optics again, venting a sigh that very nearly pushed his tank over the edge. Arcee swore in frustration.

He swayed. Another quake. He gagged.

Please make it stop.

"Hey, hey—what’s wrong? Talk to me," Arcee tapped his faceplates. He flinched.

"You gonna purge again?" Jack asked.

The answer came in energon and acid.

His tanks twisted as they emptied what little was left, along with all the acid they held, which hissed and melted the stone beneath. Optic cleanser welled up to clear the dust from his optic caps, a clear polymer slipping over them to wipe off the debris.

The stone sizzled. Starscream’s vents stuttered.

The walls pressed closer.

 

Be not afraid.

 

Another rumbling and crashing of stone.

 

"STARSCREAM!"

 

The wave of pain that wracked his helm forced out the sob he'd been desperately trying to contain.

 

The walls the walls the walls

 

The cave groaned.

 

"Too tight! The walls—the walls!"

 

"You’re claustrophobic?!"

 

"Seekers need sky! Wind! Sensors—can’t—THE WALLS!"

 

"Okay, okay!" Arcee stepped back. "Vent, or... something."

 

Jack's disappointed frown sent her backing up to the cavern walls.

 

He turned to Starscream. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

 

"Talk," came the whisper.

 

"About what?"

 

"TALK!"

 

"Okay! Uh—Megatron sent a claustrophobic, sick soldier into a cave?"

 

Starscream hissed. "I am strong! This is nothing!"

 

The shaking continued, certainly due to the monster prowling beneath. A hiss seeped out from between gritted dentae.

 

He can’t know.

 

"Starcream?" The human approached slowly, like he was some wild turbofox, "I uh, heard what happened before, between you and Megatron. That...you need to know that that wasn't...isn't okay."

 

Something flickered in the Seeker’s face. Then—gone. Back was the mask. His spinal strut straightened, and claws flexed. He looked for all the world like the imperious Air Commander, like the Second in Command. Arcee could almost believe he was about to pluck her spark from its chamber like a rust stick from a pack.

 

"It was messed up. You didn’t deserve—"

 

Click.

 

Jack flinched as missiles began priming.

 

"Measure your next words very carefully, insect."

Notes:

Mysterious voices, claustrophobia, and anger issues abound! And, there's nowhere left to go but down.

Cybertronian Anatomy and Amateur Speculative Evolution

Me being a nerd, I've been brainstorming how different Cybertronians evolved different traits to suit different alt modes. I'm also trying to consider what they evolved while limited to Cybertron and how they changed after they gained interstellar travel capabilities. I'll introduce them gradually (or, well, as slowly as I can considering how exciting it is to speculate on Cybertronian evolution), starting with Seekers.

Seekers are a mix of scouts and vultures. They can extract energon and minerals from almost any source. Their plating is strong enough to withstand crushing pressure, rapid and extreme temperature changes, atmospheric reentry, combat, and radiation. They generally have broad shoulders to provide cushioning in case of a crash. Their job is to seek and seize energon sources for the colony.

Some of the spark-coded traits (traits that are consistent no matter how they change their frame, encoded in CNA) that they all share include a powerful energon radar, robust sensornet, thrusters, and anti-gravs (to offset the weight of reinforced plating). These features are absolute energon sinks, so to offset the energy cost, they lack coolant tanks and heating capabilities (except in their claws and fangs for combat and energon processing). Basically, they're cold-blooded with very good insulation.

Heat is expelled through vents and radiator panels along with any waste generated through energon processing. They can warm up by sunbathing, shivering (which is extremely inefficient and barely generates more heat than it loses through the seams in their plating), or by moving. If they have a virus, they will seek out a heat source. For space travel, they enter a sort of partial stasis to keep from overheating. They are extremely social creatures, forming pairs or trines for preening, maintenance, defense, and scouting planets for energon. They primarily read EM fields through touch (I mean, they roost together in massive armadas. Can you imagine how distracting it would be if everyone's fields flared out during an air strike?) They find the energon, and the insecticons mine it. They must train themselves if they are to spend extensive time underground without succumbing to instinctive claustrophobia.

The observant reader might question why Starscream is so warm. I'll give you a hint. You know how your computer or phone overheats if you push it too hard to do too much at once? That's what his processor is doing. He is so concussed and stressed that he his processor is overheating and it can be felt through his insulated plating. He also doesn't lie about his cold-bloodedness because it would be easy to disprove. Poor guy!

Chapter 4: Sleep in the Casket You Made, You're Gone, Sucker

Summary:

There is a great yawning darkness in this cavern, and it is all that stands between Arcee, Jack, and certain doom. As Megatron's escape attempts threaten to topple the delicate balance keeping the ceiling from crushing the trio, they face the looming black with a flickering candle.

Notes:

"In the end, you will always kneel."
"Not to men like you."
"There are no men like me."
"There are always men like you."
―Loki and German Old Man, The Avengers

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

He knelt in silence, claws caressing a twisted wing, one of a million in the sea of mangled corpses.

Limbs erupted from the ground, brushing against his plating and flaking away. An ocean of rusted and broken pieces stretched beyond the horizon. Arms beckoning, mouths locked in eternal screams. Some snarled, others smiled, but all were silent.

 

Unmoving

 

Unseaming

 

Unseeming

 

The wind lapped at his wings, frigid and unspeaking. The purring of engines, the humming of EM fields, the roaring of thrusters, all replaced by a vast blanket of nothingness.

Claws dipped into a bucket of paint as red as the oldest stars. 

 

Deliberation

 

Slowness

 

Emptiness

 

That was what filled him, from thruster to crest, pumping through his veins as he tapped the claw on the edge of the paint bucket, shaking off excess before reaching for an ashen wing. Slowly, carefully, delicately, like it would break at the slightest vent, he turned it over to reveal the one panel he had yet to paint.

The song came soft and hoarse, brushing over broken wings and caressing an empty spark chamber. He could almost imagine the notes of the old lullaby wiping away the dark and grey, reigniting the spark, and erasing this plague of silence.

 

Red for fire.

Blue for calm.

Gold for nobility.

And for each of us, a song.

 

Crushed rubies and crimson crystals glimmered on the tip of his claw, swirling in the unending depths of the paint bucket, and seeping into the blackened plating before him. The leading edge of each wing, handled like sheets of glass, blazed to life in crimson swirls and arabesques. Each verse whispered from his vocalizer, barely audible.

 

Green for rebirth and life

Violet for mystery

White, for the innocent.

And black for what we could not see.

 

A lifetime coded in sigils and lines, etched into cold plating that would never again taste freedom. The song dried up just as a black ring encircled the spark chamber. 

His optics flicked upward. Another body.

Then another.

Then another.

No voices answered. No sparks flickered. Just more wings, broken and bleeding, jutting from a plain of blackened ash and shattered earth. 

He never stood. He crawled from corpse to corpse, painting and singing for each and every one. No one joined him in mournful song. No one heard, no one saw. It was neither dark nor light, only looming, unyielding grey.

It stretched on for eternity. He couldn’t remember where it began.

Perhaps, a million bodies ago, there was more color, but all he knew now was a sea of black and grey, speckled with brightness here and there, but quick to drown in the inky dark.

Paint. Sing. Move on.

And still they stared—optics long gone dark—millions of them. Some with hands raised as if to shield themselves. Others curled in fetal shapes, as if dreaming still.

One lay half-fused to the earth, a dried rivulet of energon staining its chin. A foul black pool sat still beside a cracked optic. Starscream hesitated.

The face was familiar.

He did not know the name.

He painted anyway.

Fuel soaked his knees. He did not mind. He did not notice.

He began the song again.

And painted.

And painted...

Her blaster roared to life, blazing in his faceplates.

One of his optic ridges slithered up, radiating contempt.

"You know nothing, little bug, of the delicate game of claw and fang we play," he drawled, a smirk slathering itself across his faceplates.

"Deactivate the missiles, Starscream." The barrel’s heat seared the air. Somewhere behind it, his missiles began their rhythm:

Drip…Unmoving

Drip…Unseaming

Drip…Unseeming

A snort cracked through the cavern like a vent unclogging. Arcee's claws tightened into fists, digits flexing in anticipation. Each drop of energon seeping into those missiles whispered betrayal.

And oh, how she hated.

For a moment, the shadow of Optimus' optics dimmed in disappointment. More power poured into her blaster, optics narrowed to overbright slits.

They deserve it. I will kill them all, and they deserve it. 

Optimus, her Primus forsaken, thrice-blasted shadow leaned forward, leaned towards the grey harpy. 

Jack, as calm as if commenting on the weather, leaned against a boulder, far too relaxed for someone inches from acidic death. The seeker's optics kept flicking over to him.

"There was only one person having fun back there, and it wasn't you," he tapped his foot quietly. The acid pool hissed and drifted lower, gnawing through bedrock toward whatever lay beneath.

Her blaster shone hot as a newborn star, optics locked on his frame—each twitch of his plating brought her closer to wiping that stupid look off that monster's faceplates-

A tremor shook the floor. A monster somewhere below. A laugh rolled back up.

Energon roaring through her lines, she pushed yet more power to her blaster. One shot would blow his helm off.

Drip...Her EM field crackled and seethed

Drip...Her partner's heart still beats

"You're burning up, little two-wheeler," the beast purred.

Her blaster trembled and flickered. The metal melted, drip by drip, coating Starscream’s chestplate in red-hot rivulets.

Another rumbling of restless stone.

Kill before he kills again. There will be no one left to take and take and take from her-

Her spark thundered—Cliffjumper’s light lost down here. She pressed harder.

"Arcee! Arcee! Your gun's melting!" the boy shouted.

He killed him. I know he did.

But I can’t let him fall yet.

Not until he gives me a reason.

"One word. One vent. One blink,” another chunk of liquid metal seared the seeker's chestplates, "And you're scrap."

She was a huntress. She would prowl and bite at this beast's veins until he bled out, and that wretched grin melted off his faceplates.

"If this cavern collapses, He straightened—a smug grin plastered over his features, “I’ll surely survive. Your pet, on the other servo, might not be so lucky.”

Her scowl deepened.

Through the haze of hate hate hate and the drip drip drip, the creaking of shock absorbers strained past their limits echoed, and the muffled wheezing of vents struggling to expel heat undercut the grumbling of falling stone.

The fiery glow of burning energon licked the cavern walls, yet his plating radiated a heat all its own—like a candle in the dark.

He was there that day.

The ghost of Cliffjumper’s laughter tickled her audial. Her trigger itched.

The shadow of Optimus loomed behind her. Surely, her leader would understand!

Her going to die, I'm so sorry partner pulled out his phone and tapped away as the seeker turned to face him, "Megatron's a wack job. I'm glad we're stuck with you, you're much more reasonable."

"Flattery won't save you, human," the seeker scoffed, clumps of dust falling to the ground.

The ceiling creaked again.

She tugged the trigger—

"Disarm the missiles, seeker," she leaned in, tears of molten metal seeping into the rattling earth below. The cavern groaned and creaked.

He cocked his helm, optics raking over her, “Your meaningless threats bore me.”

Her spark sizzled.

Suddenly, a text flashed in her comm. Text-based communication. Only two creatures could reach her comm this far underground, and only one used a device outfitted solely for written messages.

"I'm sorry to tell you, human, but your feeble network cannot reach us here," Starscream shifted a pede, looking like a hundred thousand plans and schemes lay at the tip of his claws, ready for inspection. Wings and back straight, optic ridges raised in wretched amusement...

<<Jack: Megatron was going to kill him back there.<<

The pool of acid bubbled and spat droplets into the air, sinking deeper and deeper below.

<<Jack: I think he's his dad, or whatever the equivalent is for you guys.<<

She read through the rest, the recounting, the breaking of the little Predacon's spark, and her blaster, her hate boiled. The seeker flinched away.

Another booming laugh echoed.

“Use comms if you wish. I’ll still stand when you’re a red smear on the stone," he cooed, fangs bared and red-hot. Molten droplets dripped from where his claws were buried in the ceiling. The cavern rocked. 

She considered, then, the creature before her, the killer, the beast.

The one who saved Jack's life.

She was a killer, not a diplomat. She saw where others cracked and how to make them bleed. Optimus believed in mercy wrapped in gold, in rage disguised as kindness. But every time she tried to speak softly, it tasted wrong. Like sweetness gone sour.

The air churned and boiled around the grey seeker before her. Jack was surely uncomfortable by now.

And with his life on the line, ice drip drip dripped onto the rage writhing and roiling in her spark.

She considered the creature before her, the injured mech with the imminent processor crash.

"You're burning up," she ground out at last, "You're burning."

"I am not the one with the melting blaster, two-wheeler," he sneered.

The beast's claws glinted in eager preparation.

She ex‑vented a steadying breath—Optimus’s faith echoing in her spark—and Jack stood close, eyes never leaving Starscream.

His optic shutters fluttered—security frayed. His EM field jittered, as though a loose thread snagged on an unseen barb.

A sigh peeked out of her. Slowly, the burning ebbed from her blaster.

“You saved us both earlier,” she said, muzzle cooling. “So end it here. This is pointless. We're on your side here. Jack shouted at Megatron for Primus' sake!”

“A human? Against—” He cut himself off, optic flickering as he rewound that memory. “You… shouted?”

Jack slipped his phone away, shoulders slumping. “Yup.”

"Well, I doubt Megatron cared for your moral support-"

Jack stepped forward, voice raw and scraped with horror. “I wasn’t defending Megatron—I was defending you!"

A cavernous laugh rolled up, rattling the walls. The floor trembled under their feet.

She considered the creature before her, the seeker who was shocked that someone would choose him over his cruel master, and she saw something terribly familiar.

Arcee’s scowl softened. In his optics, she saw the same haunted look she once saw in a dying turbofox—collared and tamed, but wild-eyed and broken by neglect, trembling from cold it couldn’t name.

That creature hadn’t bared its fangs. It hadn’t attacked. It had only curled up beside her in the end, desperate for warmth.

And still, sick as it was, she'd had to shoot it. A crime of mercy.

"Oh. W-why would you do that? I don't...I don't need your pity," he hissed, missiles clicking again.

Jack closed the gap, fist tight at his side. “There's no need to fight. Just say you’re sorry for the threats.”

Starscream’s optic shutters fluttered, field stuttering in disbelief.

Arcee inched back, helm tilted. Something had broken, shards tinkling in her EM field, scraping against the seeker's plating.

"I do not apologize to insects," he scoffed at last, standing regal as a silver statue. His EM field betrayed his confusion.

Jack swallowed, voice tight. “Megatron never did either. Maybe you'd have more allies if you tried.”

He set the canteen down, fingers trembling on the rim.

A harsh laugh rattled his chassis. “Mechs follow me because I’m their superior! I need not apologize to insects.” His vents flared, letting out a hiss. 

His optics flickered as he looked up, fingers straining in rock. A metal rivulet ran down his helm.

The humming of Arcee's blaster dropped to a whisper. “Would things change if Megatron had apologized?”

The cavern rumbled again, pebbles falling and dust dancing.

"Stop bringing up Megatron! I am better than him!" They couldn't tell what was screeching, the seeker or his struts under the strain.

The seeker tilted his helm to the side for a flicker of a moment, as if listening to something.

Optimus' shadow nodded, for just a moment.

Arcee’s blaster flared against his optic cap. “What if you win? What then? Will you still treat everyone like scrap? Are you fine being the most hated being in the universe?" she snapped, blaster burning through his optic cap. The glass melted down his faceplates and hardened, solidifying into jagged tears..

He straightened, voice steel‑cold. "Indeed! And no one will be able to stop me!"

A blue flare blossomed before her—Optimus’s shadow in her optics. “Except the next you who gets tired of this.”

Another tilt of his helm, more words unheard, another scowl and stamp of a pede.

He sneered, voice cracking. “I need no advice from Autobot scum—or her pet bug.”

"I'd do it again, you know," Jack whispered, "I'd tell him to stop hurting you."

Starscream’s smirk wavered. “I...I'm sure you would," he hissed. 

"I would," the boy insisted, "And I should've thanked you earlier for saving me."

"A mere consequence of my attempts to save myself, I assure you," he purred again. The fake softness had very real jagged edges. Fear and shame poking through his field before it was chained again.

The click echoed. Missiles fell silent.

The cavern exhaled—acid hissed lower, the ceiling slackened.

"I'm sure it was," Jack smiled softly, leaning against Arcee, whose blaster lowered. The dripping continued.

She huffed and considered the creature before her. The seeker had sneered and fallen silent. The shadow of Optimus wove and gleamed.

Starscream slumped a little, still holding the ceiling. Concussed, damaged, broken—but holding.

And in that fragile relief, a sort of softness poked through his EM field.

The pit of sickly green acid sank ever deeper.

Notes:

How to tame your Starscream:

Step 1) Confuse him with ethics
Step 2) Hugs?
Step 3) Profit

Jack was negotiating here. Asking Starscream to say 'sorry' for threatening them was unrealistic, but that wasn't the goal; the goal was to get him to turn the dang missiles off.

Also, the power of Starscream's missiles varies wildly in the show, so I provided an explanation. He can choose the strength of the explosion depending on how much he "primes" his missiles, meaning he fills them with energon. Low quantity or quality of energon limits how much he can prime them, which makes the explosion much smaller. Here, he is priming them one drop at a time for dramatic effect, because he is a goblin.

He grows new missiles in his subspace, and typically has several on hand, usually already primed and ready to go. I am still figuring out how long they take to grow.

Ramblings about writing a Starscream redemption arc

I've been thinking a lot about how a Starscream redemption would go, and I think I've narrowed down the issue. See, Starscream is a lonely mech, isolated both by his "colorful" personality and by his terrible situation. This loneliness and profound insecurity mean he has no internal reason to even attempt redemption beyond trying to acquire followers, which clearly seldom works. If everyone hates him anyway and if he's beyond fixing, then why bother trying to fix things?

He is also very sensitive. I mean, take a look at most of his scenes. He knows that nobody is on his side, and it bothers him, at least temporarily, before he covers it back up with the narcissistic mask. His subsequent behavior then just makes him more unlikable. It's a vicious cycle.

I have seen redemption arcs go both ways, where the villain is the first to apologize to his/her victims, and where he/she is approached and coerced (or friendshipped) into redeeming himself/herself.

If I may be frank, Starscream's behavior towards other Decepticons is often unacceptable. He mirrors Megatron in many aspects that he believes to be strengths. If he is to be redeemed, he needs a wake-up call (or, a wake-up mine collapse), and he needs to be the first to apologize to Knock Out. Saving Breakdown gave him a proverbial foot in the friendship door, but he needs to learn to take accountability.

At the same time, he needs to recognize that being treated like garbage and having every problem in the universe blamed on his existence is not okay. It is about balance, taking responsibility for that which he is responsible for, and keeping the rest at an emotional distance. I hope I can write him learning that, but these characters are hard to pin down!

I also like the idea of him being Arcee's rival. She always feels like the most dangerous of Team Prime only because there is something bubbling under the surface. Ain't no way she walked away from torture mostly chill. She can be the most dangerous and dedicated of killers, but with her partners usually being kinder people, compassion can poke through (Represented by "the shadow of Optimus"). Plus, since everyone is dependent on everyone else to keep their cool, they're marginally more careful about slinging missiles and lasers around.

Chapter 5: But You're Mad If You Thought I'd Let You Go...No

Summary:

Exhausted and faltering, Starscream, Arcee, and Jack have forged an uneasy alliance, but some chains are too strong to break.

Still, something whispers softly in the wind...

Notes:

I really hope the pacing and plot development are to your liking. I have a tendency to ramble, so I've been trying to keep the extra stuff to the end notes. I am fighting the urge every day to just rant on and on about speculative Cybertronian anatomy.

Song rec: Yaelokre - And the Hound

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The acidic hiss beneath them grew louder, a sinister whisper that wound through the cavern’s fractured walls and undercut the desperate creaking of Starscream’s joints and struts as he fought to keep the ceiling aloft. Pebbles tinkled to the floor, each a tiny summoning cry to whatever wretched beast prowled below. Arcee plucked and dug at the mountain of stone, her optics glowing with resigned weariness as she watched Starscream’s frame tremble under the weight.

Snap

A hiss of pain.

Snap

Crunch

"What now?" she growled.

Starscream’s wings shook. His plating rattled and scraped. “Can’t…can’t hold much longer,” he croaked.

The walls bore down with hunger...

A sympathetic grimace crossed her faceplates, "Hold on, big guy, help's on the way."

"Help for you maybe," he grunted, then cried out as something let out a sickening crunch in his leg. The rock rumbled in mockery, "Death for me."

Arcee tossed a particularly large boulder behind her, barely missing his pede, "Megatron was going to kill you. Better you go with us," her expression softened, "We wouldn't- Optimus wouldn't kill you. Not like this."

Starscream's optics dimmed in response, and he just hung his helm, worn and undone. He wanted something. He wasn't sure what he wanted, but surely there was something to ease the pain gnawing at the core of his being.

 

A monster below, and a wolf ahead. Come not undone, little bird.

Who are you?!

Something hummed in his spark, steady and warm. For just a flicker of a wisp of a moment, the ceiling did not feel heavy at all.

I just want to get out of here.

 

Cool gentleness on his helm, he almost leaned into the slight reprieve as Arcee murmurred, "You're not overheating as much. Feeling any better?"

CRACK

"I guess that answers that question," she huffed, going back to shifting boulders. A low humming droned in their audials, a booming laugh below, growing louder, and louder, and closer-

"I just got a signal!" Arcee beamed and pumped a fist, "Bulkhead and Miko, they're almost through!"

Jack inched around the bubbling pool, covered up by a mound of rocks, to rest a servo on the Seeker's pede, "Almost there. You're doing great."

Starscream barely registered it. He stared at the widening cracks near the acid pool, the roars from below, and the shadow of something rising beneath the rock—

 

Laughing below

Death above

 

He tried to ground himself in the spot of warmth on his pede. Everything was spinning and warped and blurred-

 

A wolf ahead

Does she know? Does she know that it was I who killed all she had?

 

“STARSCREAM!” The booming voice blasted through stone and steel.

His knees gave out. The ceiling dropped halfway to the ground.

“Hold it—hold it!” Jack shouted, diving under Arcee's servos.

“Stuff that trash right up your tailpipe!” Arcee snarled toward the pit.

The vibrations reached them next, thudding up the walls like a heartbeat. His missiles clicked instinctively, but then—

A brilliant blast of light tore through the cavern wall.

Not Megatron.

A drill.

“They’re here!” She cried as the ceiling bore down on her back plating. A jagged edge scraped against a spinal strut.

A great beast burst through the collapsing mount of stone, spitting shards everywhere. 

They’re here

Bulkhead’s enormous silhouette filled the breach with blinding light and verdant plating, the drill-dozer in front of him flickering in the blaze.

“C’mon!” Miko bellowed from the drill’s controls, “We have to go now!”

They’re here

“STARSCREAM! COME TO ME!”

Death below

A pack of wolves ahead

Arcee grabbed Jack and thrust him behind the drill’s driver’s seat. “Let’s move!”

Bulkhead raised a blaster toward Starscream, a stony glare on his faceplates, but Arcee caught his arm. Her optics met Starscream’s. Raw. Honest. Full of hate.

“I’m letting you live—for Jack.”

She turned away, “But the next time we meet? It’ll be for Cliffjumper.”

Starscream nodded once, slowly.

The faintest flicker of acknowledgment.

And then they were gone, escaping the starving walls.

So, there he was, wolves in the tumbling tunnels beyond, and a monster beneath.

Megatron’s claw erupted from below, crushing stone and light alike. The tyrant’s gaze met his.

“Little Predacon,” he purred, reaching out.

And Starscream—shaking, spark aching, optics wide—dove into the hole.

Wings caught air. Anti-gravs sputtered but held. Dust swirled, and he fell, silver and silent, straight into the dark.

Notes:

LET'S GO! I'm getting antsy just writing this!

Ramblings about the logistics of the show

I am trying to stick to the canon characterizations and general action scenes, but I'm going to be honest, the Stormtrooper aim and armor that randomly fluctuates in durability is hard to work around. The best explanation I can come up with is that the newer Vehicons are generally more frail and have trashier weapons, the Nemesis is running out of materials, and the standard-issue blasters everyone uses have slow (but powerful) projectiles. I don't know what else to do man, rewatching the show, most shots miss or do next to no damage. I know why, because of the budget, but you will almost certainly find me introducing new weaponry and whatnot. I'm not a war general or scientist, so there will be some playing with physics here, but almost everything should have at least a semi-logical explanation for it.

Like, for example, the pool of acid eating through the ground. You'd think that it couldn't reach that far if the floor was thick enough to handle so much weight, but Seeker fuel tanks can process almost anything, not to mention the fact that Megatron was hammering the roof and walls from his cavern, turning minuscule fissures into a giant hole.

Chapter 6: Dirty Little Animals, You Cannibals Eat Your Supper

Summary:

Trapped with Megatron, awaiting rescue, heavily damaged.

Not alone, something much worse.

Notes:

And the Hound is humming you
A lie, a lullaby
- Yaelokre - "And the Hound"

 

I am so sorry for the delay. I have been outlining the rest of the story's plot, and it's giving me a heck of a time. These guys are difficult to nail.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

"It's beautiful! What is it?"

"Take this relic, little bird, and guard it with your spark. Use it well, and it will always guide you home..."

 

 

He landed hard, anti-gravs whining as they fought to cushion his fall. Dust and stone rained in after him, but he was already moving, stumbling, dragging himself upright as the ceiling he'd once carried plugged the acid-chewed hole above.

The chamber yawned around him, hollowed by the fists and fury of a titan. He almost vented in relief, wings twitching as the walls retreated—only to remember that the stone recoiled in terror from the warlord at its center.

"My Lord," he breathed, collapsing to a kneel.

It's the broken struts, nothing more. I'm not his.

The warlord's plating was riddled with dust and dents, optics burning with purple sickness. For just a moment, Starscream swore he was watching not a mech, but a violet storm cloud rolling over the horizon.

“My little Predacon,” the warlord rumbled, voice thick as moss on ancient bark.

 

Breathe deep, the scent of poisons.

 

Starscream recoiled, wings slamming against the stone wall. Drops of acid sizzled as they splashed onto the rocks, their hunger sated at last. His claws unsheathed and flexed.

His chemoreceptors felt the air, shrivelling at the putrid decay.

“You came.” Megatron’s blade rose, its edge endless, shimmering in the violet light. “As I knew you would. You have passed my test. Contact the ship for retrieval.”

Starscream’s vents rasped. “A—a test?”

“Of course.” Megatron’s smirk was a sharpened weapon. “I measured your strength—and you barely survived. Now summon the ship so we may leave this accursed place.” A stone emerged from Megatron's subspace, scraping against his blade. The sound crashed through the air and sent the dust into a frenzy, stabbing into his audials. 

Sharp, always sharp. There were no better blades in existence anymore.

Two pairs of optics clashed in silence. One flickered, then dropped.

 

CRACK.

 

One optic died altogether. The air boiled with unnatural heat.

“My faithful second,” Megatron crooned, inspecting the blade.

“Faithful?” Starscream’s rasp was disbelief. “Why put me through this? Was Fearstorm not enough?”

“You will always be tested, Starscream. It would be cruel to allow you to stagnate. Our enemy grows stronger—I cannot afford a faltering hand.”

“We lost an energon mine to this insanity!” Starscream slammed his pede on the ground; his remaining optic flared.

“You should have pushed harder, fought like a gladiator. You will be punished for losing this mine, Starscream. You were weak.” He sheathed and unsheathed the blade, each scrape echoing the beat of the seeker’s pounding spark.

Starscream flinched back again, collapsing against the rock wall.

Megatron’s helm tipped in amusement. “How long before they reach us?”

The ship’s signal tugged at his spark, a faint anchor all too far from here.

“I am not sure what’s keeping them. Imbeciles! I sent out a distress signal ages ago!” The Seeker growled, claws slashing the wall.

As if summoned by his fury, a resounding crash slammed into the walls of the cavern.

“Back away from the walls, gentlemen! I’m making an entrance!” a voice called, strained but smug, through the hairline fractures veining the cavern.

Starscream’s helm snapped up. The cracks in the wall grew and spread, sinking their roots deep in the rumbling stone.

 

Another BOOM .

 

Louder this time. 

 

The cavern buckled. Shards of rock rained down, pelting their plating through the haze. One struck Starscream’s shoulder, but he barely noticed.

 

CRACK.

 

Stone split like bone. A jagged seam opened in the cavern wall, and from it came cherry-red armor and the glint of polished metal, a fire brighter than the debris and smoke.

Knock Out.

The medic strode through the breach, optics sliding over to the crumpled Seeker in the corner.

“Well, looks like you’ve been busy.” He brushed the dust off his shoulders with a huff.

Starscream let out a rasping vent. “Took you long enough.”

Knock Out’s smirk was clinical. He flicked his energon prod toward the shadows, where footfalls thundered in reply. The breach widened again with the pounding pedesteps of Breakdown.

The brawler barged through the opening, bashing aside rubble with his hammer. His optics darted around the chamber, zeroing in on Megatron with wary alertness.

“I brought muscle,” Knock Out said with a smirk. “You’re welcome.”

“What excuse have you for this delay?” Megatron’s growl rumbled the chamber. Starscream sagged in relief as the warlord loomed over the Medic.

Breakdown knelt into a deep bow. “Sorry, Lord Megatron, couldn’t find you for a bit.”

“T-the rock masked your signals. We couldn’t open a groundbridge safely.” Knock Out bowed his helm with a grimace.

No one spoke for a beat. Knock Out’s optics met Starscream’s for just a moment, flicking away from the twin violet infernos smoldering before him.

The Medic averted his optics, derma pressed in a thin line.

The dust settled as a groundbridge blazed to life where the wall once was.

Knock Out and Breakdown stepped aside to allow Megatron through. 

Only when the last hint of gunmetal grey disappeared into the portal did they turn to the Seeker.

“You look like scrap.” A blur of cherry-red approached with the slightest tremble. “What happened?”

“A mine collapse,” Starscream grunted, shoving Breakdown’s offered servo away and forcing himself to unsteady pedes, “You two took ages!”

“Your signal went offline for a spell.” Knock Out placed a steadying servo on Starscream’s shoulder. He twitched, but merely flicked a wing and scowled, allowing the contact. “When we got ahold of it again, it was corrupted. Soundwave had to check a few things. Make sure it wasn’t some Autobot trap.”

The trio paused on the edge of the swirling groundbridge.

For a long moment, Starscream’s optic raked over Knock Out.

“What? What is it? Do I have something on my faceplates?” He chuckled, grip tightening on the Seeker’s shoulder pauldron.

“I…you…” His faceplates scrunched in consideration as he tapped a pede against the ground, “Perhaps I was a little…harsh…before. It is good that you came…even if inexcusably late.”

“...noted.” Knock Out scowled, vents puffing steam before he urged the commander into the groundbridge. Breakdown patted the Medic’s back before following after them.

 

 

Starscream wasn't sure how he'd gotten to the engine room, whether he'd walked, crawled, or simply been there the whole time, and the past cycle was nothing more than a distant nightmare.

 

The Nemesis hummed beneath-no, within him, a melodious, crooning thrum that reverberated through his frame, deep into his spark.

 

He lay sprawled on the ground beneath a tattered self-heating blanket, frame coated in crystallized energon. Moving even an inch sent waves of pain through his broken struts and actuators.

 

One optic flickered. The other remained stubbornly offline. 

 

Business as usual.

 

He would have gone to the medbay, but his processor maintained a sluggish stream of foretellings as to what his punishment would be.

 

Surely not a mere beating. Aiding an Autobot was execution, at minimum.

 

His claws curled and stroked the smooth panels, clutching at the engine's coolant pipes as if the massive, intricate machine would vanish should his attention falter.

 

It was quiet here. Safe. No eyes. No monitors. No Soundwave waiting around the corner to hoard damning blackmail.

 

Here, in the ship's very heart, the day's events washed over him, soaking into his seams until he was sure he would drown.

 

Everything was so heavy.

 

“You said I owed you one.” Breakdown’s voice came, gruff and hesitant, muffled like it was underwater.

 

Starscream didn’t move.

 

"It let you in?" He mumbled, cradling his helm in his elbows.

 

"Were...were you trying to say 'sorry' back there?" A massive servo rested on his shoulder pauldron.

 

He flinched away. "What's it to you?" 

 

"Y'owe him a better apology. A real one." He could hear the frown in Breakdown's voice.

 

"I owe him nothing. He went from a wrench of a medic to a shoddy second in command. If anything, he should apologize for his incompetence." His wings twitched upwards, optic blazing with fury.

 

"D'you actually believe that?" Breakdown's presence loomed over him, field churning with frustration and disappointment.

 

Breathe deep, the scent of poisons.

 

The ship’s heart pulsed in a slow, warm rhythm that wrapped around Starscream’s own.

 

Familiar. Steady. True.

 

"I already apologized." He slumped again, optic dimming. "What more do you want?"

 

Mend the bonds, little bird.

 

"Apologize for what you did, for hurting him and shouting at him for no reason, and promise not to do it again." Flickers of surprise flitted across the brawler's field, sparks of...of hope.

 

"I...it's the Decepticon Army Breakdown, I don't know what you expected." He sighed.

 

"Knock Out is coming in a few. You'll have your chance then. Don't waste it...please?"

 

The clacking of pedesteps approached. "Breakdown? Where are you? I told you, there is no way Starscream will let you in!"

 

Everything was so heavy...

 

 

"...That’s quite the dramatic entrance,” Knock Out’s smooth, wry voice cut through the gloom. “I didn’t think you’d let Breakdown in—much less let him carry you all this way. Excited to see little ole’ me?”

A warm hand pressed against his shoulder pauldron, firm and clinical.

“Starscream, can you focus on my voice?”

He blinked. His optic flickered. The world swam in a red, blue, and dead‑grey haze.

“You’re leaking fuel,” Knock Out said, quieter now. “And concussed. Lovely. Let me guess—pinned under a mountain, no recharge, no energon, no sense to call for help?”

Starscream tried to reply. All that came out was a feeble hiss.

Knock Out tutted, but his touch remained gentle. “Hold still.”

A soft click—the welder ignited. A sting of burning metal sliced through the haze of exhaustion and painkillers. Starscream jerked and snarled. Knock Out’s hand stayed steady on the wing joint.

“You’re lucky Breakdown insisted I follow you.”

“…Didn’t… ask for help,” Starscream grunted.

A grunt in response, a twinge of pain as a particularly nasty gash was sealed.

Silence stretched between them.

 

Heal these broken pieces, Little Wolf.

 

Starscream exhaled a deep vent.

 

The medic’s field washed over him—slick, neutral, like a flawless pearl.

 

“I...I...must confess, I was misguided in treating you the way I did.” Starscream admitted slowly, each word dripping like energon from a cracked seam. “I should not have done it. Mocked you. Hurt you. I was… cruel. I’m sorry.”

 

Silence. Then—

 

“I beg your pardon?”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“No—” Knock Out’s voice cracked. His field shivered. “You don’t… you don’t mean that. Did someone threaten you into this?”

 

A crack in the pearl, spilling frustration, oozing rage and familiar hurt. 

 

“N-no.” Starscream shrank back, pressing into the berth.

 

The break in the pearl widened. Hurt. So much hurt.

 

Had he really caused that?

 

Before he could vent, a servo pinned him. Knock Out’s optics blazed with fury.

 

“You… you! You made me your Second in Command, treated me like garbage, hurt me, and now you waltz in with that?!”

 

“W-well…I didn’t waltz…” Starscream stammered, wings tightening as fresh welds split open.

 

“You don’t get to—why now?”

 

“I…got some perspective.”

 

“You expect me to believe that? Tell me the truth—just this once. Where is this slag coming from?!”

 

He told—slowly, ashamed, quietly. Nothing of Megatron’s cloying words, but… enough.

 

Knock Out sank onto the berth, joints creaking. His field churned like a storm.

 

“You saved a human.”

 

“Y-yes.”

 

“And an Autobot.”

 

He nodded.

 

“You almost terminated them.”

 

Another nod.

 

“You purged your tanks. Twice. And your processor nearly crashed.”

 

His optic flitted down to the massive dent in his abdomen.

 

The cherry-red racer's field sagged—impossibly heavy.

 

"Megatron almost killed you. You held up a mountain." The Medic's voice barely pierced the suffocating silence.

 

Knock Out’s plating rattled as he slumped with a sigh, trying to rub the ache from his helm. “I shouldn’t forgive you.”

 

His optics blazed with a sudden wildness. He lurched forward, pinning him again with a snarl. “I shouldn’t, but…you apologized.”

 

Starscream jerked away, twisting to ease the pain. Knock Out’s grip did not relent.

 

“One chance,” Knock Out growled. “That’s all you’re getting. No more yelling, no more hissy fits, and absolutely no more hitting. Am I clear?”

 

Starscream's helm jerked in a nod, vocalizer choking with static, “I… I promise.”

 

Knock Out released him at last, wilting as his field swirled with relief, fear, and something that almost faintly resembled hope.

 

“Okay then. Let’s...let's give this a try.” Knock Out ex-vented a cloud of steam, optics shuttering in exhaustion.

 

A three‑way comm flickered to life in Starscream’s HUD:

 

<<Knock Out.CMO.Medic: Breakdown? I'm going to need an assist. This moron tore all his welds open again.<<

Notes:

Welp, that about wraps up the Rock Bottom arc. Looks like it's all over *Hides KOBDSS friendship under the table* nothing to see here...

Kidding! Kidding! Now begins the next arc, Starcream Becomes a Marginally Better Person.

I'm so sorry for the massive delay; I have been bashing my head against the wall trying to figure out what to do with the plot. See, I have a decision to make. I can make this work less of a 'serious' story, which is kind of what I'm leaning towards because my plotting skills died of Cybonic Plague. Or, I can make it more serious and plot-driven. It will be angsty either way, I'm just deciding on the particular brand of angst, if that makes any sense.

Please let me know your preference! I always love hearing other people's feedback!

Notes:

Sweet mother mercy, poor Starscream getting smacked around by the universe.

I don't think we ever got many details on Jack and his background in the show, but I wanted to make him and the other human characters more helpful. I don't have a problem with the human characters, Miko's just a little annoying ('till she nails the Apex Armor, of course. That was one of my favorite fight scenes in the show.)

I hope I did a good job of portraying Megatron through human eyes. Bro is scary!

I will update the tags if I am not able to stretch this as far as I want. I really want to include a lot of Knock Out and Breakdown later, so I'll keep them as they are.