Chapter Text
Starscream had a plan.
Really, he was annoyed with himself for not thinking of it sooner. It was so obvious now that he’d spelled it out in his own mind. But it was all the same in the end. First, they needed the communication tower. His current project, as he was perched near the top of the structure pulling power rods into their proper positions. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the air. He hadn’t realized how claustrophobic the base had become until he’d finally gotten some sunlight on his plating and wind against his wings.
Optimus was below, so he couldn’t see Starscream grinning at his own cleverness. Once they were able to send a signal, Starscream would allow Optimus to call his autobots in for a rescue. And hope none of them figured out how exactly their Prime had survived this long. Risky, but necessary. Hopefully the sparkeaters would dissuade the Autobots from hanging around to investigate.
Starscream used his vantage point to look around the mountains. Still nothing. No stalkers on the ground, nor attackers from the skies. Maybe there was something about the base being powered on that repelled the creatures. Maybe the predacon had gotten hungry and eaten all of them.
Once Optimus was clear, Starscream would call Megatron to get him off this stupid rock. With some extra information on Shockwave as his consolation prize for this whole ordeal. It was vital Optimus be gone before Megatron arrived. Because if they met, they’d just fight, and with the state Optimus was in—recovering but far from full strength—Megatron might actually kill him. Which, Starscream had concluded, would lead to a violent and protracted struggle of fanatical Autobots fighting for their martyred Prime. Irritating and costly.
Worse, Megatron would get all the credit, leaving Starscream trapped forever in his shadow.
No, Prime had to escape. After that, Starscream would bide his time. He had a sneaking suspicion that leaving this planet would not completely turn Optimus against him. His spark was far too soft for that. He’d be reluctant to hurt Starscream, so long as Starscream didn’t force his hand by attempting to offline anyone too important.
Starscream could use that. Lure him into a trap and take the ultimate bargaining chip in this war for himself. No Megatron. Let the warlord stew. Starscream would have all the Autobots and any Decepticon ready for this damn conflict to end already eating out of his hand!
He might have felt a little bit of guilt, using Optimus this way. But really, in the long term, if it got them back to Cybertron and back to a functioning society, would Optimus really complain? It wasn’t as if Starscream was going to kill him once negotiations were done. Optimus was too useful. And, Starscream admitted, not unappealing to be around.
It certainly wasn’t how Starscream would have seen himself ending the war at the start. He’d have laughed in the face of anyone insinuating he’d work with a Prime. But fighting for millions of years changed a mech. Made them reevaluate their priorities. Starscream was done with war. He was done surviving . He was done playing games with Megatron, fearing his rages and scrambling to pick up the pieces of his failed plans. Or hiding his own failures, lest Megatron finally tire of him once and for all.
“How is it up there?” Optimus called from below.
Starscream jumped, startled from his thoughts, and nearly lost his grip.
“Fine so long as you don’t distract me!”
He glanced down to see Optimus nod, then turn his helm back towards the flatter ground surrounding the tower. His weapons were drawn, ready to fight anything that might attack them. Nothing had and with Starscream stationed where he was, they’d get plenty of warning before anything tried.
Did it make him uneasy? Yes. Was he going to complain? Absolutely not.
Something buzzed as Starscream managed to finally align two of the rods. He shouted down to Optimus.
“Check the breaker!”
Optimus set down his rifle and opened the box’s rusted cover. Starscream couldn’t see his optics, to check if he was drawing on the Matrix’s wisdom. Unease twisted his fuel pump at the idea. Seeing Optimus so angry had felt wrong somehow. Not that Starscream had any right to say he knew the mech after only a few weeks stuck together. But he wondered what Optimus had seen to make him furious enough to fire. What had the Matrix shown him?
“There!” Optimus stepped back. “That should do it.”
“Good,” Starscream replied, not at all dsappointed that the tower was actually ready.
Starscream activated his thrusters to slow his descent. Now that he was properly fueled, his self-repairs finally done their work—mostly. It still felt a bit crunchy for lack of a better term, but once he visited Knock Out, he’d be back to full capacity.
Thinking about that had him feeling oddly hollow.
As Starscream approached the ground, he saw that Optimus had raised his hand towards him. His wings flicked, and he allowed himself a sly smile.
“My, my, a gentle mech,” he said as he placed his fingers against Optimus’ palm. “How old fashioned.”
“Nothing wrong with a little civility,” Optimus replied.
Starscream touched down, staring up at Optimus’ face, once again covered by his mask. Shame.
“Why do you wear that thing all the time?” Starscream asked.
Optimus’s optics widened. “I—I prefer not to show my face.”
“Why?” Starscream folded his arms as Optimus transformed and waited for him to climb on. They’d concluded it was better for him to drive while Starscream kept watch and fired at anything that got to close. “It’s not as if it’s hard to look at.”
That got a click of the fans, much to Starscream’s satisfaction.
“The scars are…sometimes they can look more intimidating than I’d like.” Optimus said. “Especially considering everything else.”
Whether he meant the Matrix or the sheer bulk of his frame wasn’t clear. Perhaps he meant both.
“I gather that was the point,” Optimus added sadly.
Starscream let his EM field ripple quizzically as the planet slid by them.
“The deepest scar came from Megatron,” Optimus answered.
“Ah.” Starscream shrugged his shoulders. “Trying to make some dramatic statement, was he?”
“Something like that,” Optimus confirmed as the slope began to rise again. “It was one of the first fights we had after I refused to ally with him and acquired the matrix. There was some resentment.”
Starscream vaguely remembered that time. Before Vos, he recalled Megatron hanging around the future-Prime, not that they’d known Optimus’ fate at the time. A more measured voice, an intellectual one, though still a dissident. Starscream didn’t know why exactly they’d parted ways, but he could take a guess. For all he liked to claim otherwise, Megatron didn’t like it when mechs disagreed with him. Orion Pax had probably figured that out well before Starscream had.
“We were fighting in the wreckage of a settlement outside Praxus,” Optimus said. “I was barely a match, even with the Matrix. He grabbed a piece of metal out of a pool of something fetid—Ratchet still claims he doesn’t know everything it was contaminated with. And he cut me across the face.” Optimus exvented heavily, which created a cloud of exhaust. “So I’d remember I was as much a part of this war as him. I was steeped in the violence too, and anyone who looked at me would know it.”
Starscream scoffed. “He probably thought that was so clever. I’ll bet he wrote a poem about it. He never met a disgustingly on-the-nose metaphor he didn’t love.”
“It was always a weakness in otherwise very strong writing.”
“Don’t give him that much credit!”
Fuelled up, it was a much easier trek back to the door in the mountainside. Sadly that meant Optimus had the actual nerve to defend Megatron’s poetry while they drove. It honestly made Starscream reconsider letting Megatron kill him.
As Starscream opened his mouth for another retort he paused, then readjusted his optics to magnify. Optimus seemed to sense something wrong and slowed, despite being on the final ascent towards the door.
“Scrap,” Starscream muttered.
“What is it?”
Starscream signaled for him to stop. Optimus did, transforming once Starscream hit the ground.
“Can you see it?”
Optimus squinted. “No.”
“Good,” Starscream said. “That means it’s probably too far away to reach us.”
Optimus was probably about to ask what, but a long, droning cry in the distance answered for him. Starscream clenched his jaw. The predacon sparkeater loomed off and away perched at the edge of one of the mountain’s high cliffs. Starscream still felt like it was watching them.
Two dark shapes unfurled from its back. With a single flap it too to the sky.
“And it has wings now.” Starscream grumbled. “Wonderful.”
Even Optimus seemed nervous at that news. “We should get back inside.”
Starscream happily let Optimus take his arm and said, “I could not agree more.”
###
The software connections began loading without a hitch. Starscream stared at the loading bar slowly filling, a countdown that felt more ominous than it should have.
It wasn’t as if he had nothing to return to. His air force was probably a mess. Soundwave had probably acquiesced to far too many schemes from their glorious leader. Primus knew what sort of trouble Skywarp had caused.
Starscream caught motion on one of the security feeds. His spark practically jumped into his intake, until he saw it was Optimus waving at the camera in one of the larger storage rooms. It looked like he was calling Starscream down. Starscream rolled his optics, but he wasn’t exactly doing anything at the console bay right now. So he wandered down the silent, dreary hallways and into the storeroom, past some stacks of boxes they did not want to open, and into a clear section under an orange light.
Optimus stood there, in front of two boxes set up on either side of a larger crate. Two cubes of energon waited. Starscream stopped short.
“Do you have dinner plans tonight?” Optimus asked.
Starscream’s processor took entirely too long to clear the static and reply nonchalantly, “I suppose my schedule is clear enough.”
Optimus gestured towards one of the “chairs”, and even helped push the box in when Starscream sat. Gentlemech indeed. Starscream would have called it a lost art, a casualty of the war, and he missed it more than he’d realized. Luckily he was already controlling his fans, so he didn’t give away just how much his spark was pulsing.
Optimus moved to his side of the table. “It’s not exactly the finest establishment I’ve visited, but it’s hardly the worst.”
Starscream leaned forward to rest his chin on his hand. “I would hate to see the worst place you’ve brought a date, then.”
He half expected Optimus to balk, but he didn’t. He raised his cube, waiting for Starscream to do the same. Starscream did. It didn’t taste any better than it had when he’d first tried it, but it filled his tanks and for now that was enough.
“So,” Starscream said. “Are we going to make small talk first, or shall we skip straight to the pitch?”
“Who says there is one?” Optimus asked, retracting his mask to take a sip.
“Please.” Starscream smiled, hoping it looked humored and not harsh. “I’ve been on your side of the table more times than I can count. Who do you think Megatron sent out to woo high priority recruitment targets? Astrotrain? Don’t worry, I’m quite flattered.”
Optimus stared with those pretty, earnest optics of his. “I understand why you joined Megatron. And I understand that you must bear him and the Decepticons some loyalty.”
Starscream laughed. “If you say so.”
“But this war must end. You know that. Megatron will not end it without a slaughter, so why not lend your skill to the side that will bring peace without an apocalypse?”
He sounded so sincere. Starscream knew how to make a side sound righteous. Appealing. There might have even been a point where he’d believed most of what he was selling about the Decepticons. Which only meant that he could tell that Optimus truly meant everything he said. Starscream almost wished he was lying, just a little, for the familiarity. And so he would feel less bad about his response.
Another sip of energon let Starscream compose himself. “You give me too much credit. I haven’t cared much for the Decepticons in a long time. They’ve lost their way, anyone with half a processor can see that. Why do you think I’m trying to usurp Megatron?”
Optimus shifted uncomfortably. “You say it so bluntly. He isn’t the type of mech to tolerate dissent. You must know that.”
“I do. I’ve seen him offline mechs for far less.” Starscream shrugged. “I’m just special.”
“Starscream,” Optimus said. “Come back with me.”
Starscream’s vocalizer glitched. “Optimus—”
“I won’t promise it will be easy,” he continued. “I know there is resentment on both sides. There has been too much death to avoid it, but the Autobots will trust me enough to give you a fair chance. No one will hurt you. That much I can swear.”
“That’s…almost believable coming from you.” Frag, Starscream couldn’t even meet his optics. If he did he might say something very, very stupid. “There’s just one problem.”
“What is it?”
Quiet settled between them. Only the dull, ambient hum of the facility that Starscream had started tuning out filled the space. Now it was almost deafening.
“I’m not a principled mech,” Starscream said. “Don’t look at me like that, you know it’s true. Principles get you killed or turn you into a fanatic. I’m not interested in either. However…” Starscream’s chest felt tight. “Back on Cybertron mechs wearing the autobrand crushed protests, starved their fellows, exploited anyone beneath them and they did it convinced that their badge gave them the right to. Mechs with that badge strapped me to a slab and I’ll never really know what they did to me. I don’t know if the mech that was brought to that Institute is the same mech who walked out of it.”
His voice shook. He hadn’t expected that. It had been so long, but saying it aloud—that he didn’t think his mind had been changed by he didn’t really know and he would never know…
Starscream shook his helm. “Not to say that the Decepticons don’t have their fair share of atrocities. We’ve become quite adept, in fact. But at the end of the day, while I am an unprincipled glitch, I have one principle I’ll hold to. I will never wear that autobrand.”
Optimus’s EM field sagged, so much that Starscream almost felt guilty. He chanced a glance back up and Primus why did Optimus look like that? Starscream should feel such disdain for the naked sincerity on his face. It made him so vulnerable. Starscream had, in fact, spent the entirety of the war thinking such displays were weakness. But confronted with it, he couldn’t brush aside the quiet power in Optimus’ unrelenting understanding. The thing Starscream couldn’t name anything else bu kindness. It had become so immense it had its own gravity, dragging Starscream into its orbit no matter how hard he fought it.
A tingle started across his chest and down his limbs. His fans clicked on. Frag. He really did have a type.
“Before you suggest it, neutrality ill-suits me, at least for the moment.” Starscream forced himself to continue like his spark wasn’t trying to escape its chamber. “I’m not interested in being an observer. So that leaves one option. A terrible one, but it’s the berth I’ve made. I’ll lie in it.”
Optimus nodded slowly. “I respect that. But I would not have forgiven myself if I didn’t try.”
“Don’t worry,” Starscream lifted his cube again. “Your efforts were decent enough. I’m a difficult prize to win.”
“No,” Optimus said suddenly, voice deep and rumbling. Starscream cycled his optics.
“That’s not…you are not a prize .” Optimus said. “You’re so much more than that. Whatever else happens, please don’t forget.”
“It’s a turn of phrase, you overly serious rust bucket.” The retort would have likely cut deeper had Starscream not started rapidly overheating.
If Optimus kept looking at him like that, changing his badge would become alarmingly tempting. If he hadn’t made such a mistake once before, he might have done so by now. But Starscream was more experienced, and he knew not to make the same mistake twice.
Then again, there were all kinds of new mistakes one could make in this situation.
Starscream rose, slowly and, he admittedly, shamelessly sultry. To his satisfaction, Optimus noticed, optics flaring blue and focusing on Starscream’s hips as they swayed, then traveling languidly up Starscream’s frame towards his own optics. Optimus’ grip on his cube tightened. Starscream removed it before it could break, and replaced it with his own hand for Optimus to hold.
“It’s our last night.” Starscream leaned against the crate and let his knee brush against Optimus’ leg. “Are you sure all you want to do is drink and talk?”
Optimus’ engine revved, rattling his chassis so that Starscream felt his fingers vibrate. He let his own vents build in response. Starscream slid his knee along Optimus’ thigh, tilting himself forward until he had to rest his other hand on Optimus’ shoulder.
“Starscream—”
Actual gravity took over and Starscream slid into Optimus’ lap, feeling a powerful arm steady him then settle on his waist. Both EM fields flared in tandem, and the port in Starscream’s hip sparked with arousal. The cable in his wrist nearly popped free, but he managed to control himself.
Optimus’ hand traveled to one wing, and Starscream hummed in encouragement. He placed a gentle hand against the side of Optimus’ face, hoping to draw those scarred lips forward.
“ Starscream ,” Optimus groaned. He stopped touching Starscream’s wing. “Wait.”
“I’ve updated my firewalls,” he murmured. “I promise not to go searching for any secrets.”
He half expected Optimus to push him away. He wouldn’t begrudge him, even as the charge kept building across his frame. No matter how badly he wanted to feel desired while he still had the chance.
“You don’t have to do this,” Optimus said.
Starscream jerked. “What?”
He detangled his fingers from Optimus’ and stared at him. The painful earnestness was still there. Which suddenly made Starscream nervous.
“If this… ” Optimus cleared his intake. “Rejecting my offer changes nothing. I won’t tell my officers you’re here. You don’t need to do this if it isn’t what you want. If I implied otherwise, I’m sorry.”
The energon felt like it was curdling in Starscream’s tanks. Of course. Of course Optimus just had to assume this was another angle. Primus forbid Starscream want something without some scheme or transaction and just want to feel good for one slagging night.
He couldn’t look Optimus in the optic. The honestly suddenly felt like a condemnation.
Starscream pulled his frame back. “That’s very generous of you. Glad you’ve saved me the trouble.”
Extricating himself took a moment. Not that Optimus tried to keep him in place, even if part of Starscream wished he would. Despite the fact he’d made his opinion of him clear. It was ultimately the same as everyone else’s, just dressed up in a more “compassionate” guise.
Starscream focused on the exit. It was time to leave. He had to leave.
“Wait,” Optimus said. “I’ve offended you.”
“Oh no, not at all,” Starscream snapped. “In fact I appreciate it. Not taking advantage of my schemes is quite honorable of you. Truly your virtue is unparalleled. After all, what other motive could I possibly have?”
He bit his glossa. This shouldn’t be affecting him so much. Or at all. He couldn’t even tell why he was surprised!
Optimus’ EM field radiated alarm, which made Starscream want to look at him even less. “No, that wasn’t what I—”
“It doesn’t matter.” Starscream strode away. “I’m checking the console. The faster we get off this planet the better.”
He tamped down hard on his own EM field and let the world around him fade to a blur. The longer he went the more the humiliation burned. What a stupid thing to even attempt. Hadn’t he learned by now that such spark-warming moments didn’t come to him? The universe enjoyed laughing at his expense too much for even Optimus Prime to believe he hadn’t been trying something. And Prime was just so damn good he thought he had to save Starscream from himself.
Well he had. All the better for both of them.
Starscream reached the console bank. The cavernous chamber now seemed even more empty and cold. The software was almost finished. He could input the comm codes Optimus had given him and one of those Autobot idiots would answer and probably purge themselves in relief to get their Prime back. They’d return to their sides.
Things would go back to normal.
One of the other screens caught his optic. A security feeds had gone dark. Odd. The others all seemed fine. Starscream ran a hard reboot, in case the system was to blame rather than the camera. There hadn’t been any disturbances elsewhere, but in his experience it paid to be just a little paranoid.
Starscream heard footsteps behind him. He ignored them, focusing spitefully on the scream in front of him until a tall shadow hit his wings.
“Prime, I’m not in the mood t—”
A clawed hand clamped over his mouth and yanked him off his pedes.
###
Optimus pressed his forehelm against the makeshift table. Then lifted it and dropped again with a dull thunk.
That could not have possibly gone worse.
Maybe if Starscream had actually shot at him it would have been worse, but Optimus couldn’t think of much else. He wasn’t even sure what he’d said. He just…how could he not worry? Optimus had been terrified of taking advantage of anyone since the Matrix had entered his chest, whether it was their devotion or their fear or whatever might compel them besides simple desire. Apparently he’d phrased it poorly. He’d said something wrong. And the lingering charge in his system was making it nearly impossible to think through the problem.
He pushed himself back up and downed the rest of his fuel. No, he wasn’t going to just leave things like this. He was at least going to figure out what he had to apologize for. Starscream might be stubborn, but if Autobot High Command was to be believed, Optimus had an impressive stubborn streak of his own. He marched out the door and towards the central console room. Hopefully Starscream had actually gone there. Optimus would search the base if he had to, but he’d really prefer this first part be easy.
Naturally it wasn’t. Optimus’ shoulders sank as he found the control room empty. He walked inside, glanced around, in case he’d missed something. But no. Starscream wasn’t there. Just—
Optimus paused. There was a familiar tang in the air. He knew it from a thousand battlefields and medbays.
Dread filled his tanks. He rushed to the screens and saw a puddle of energon on the floor, violently pink and fresh. A trail of drops led out the opposite door, towards the other side of the base.
“Starscream!”
No answer. Optimus ran, following the trail, but he saw no sign of Starscream or his attacker. Shouldn’t he be hearing something? The base had always been quiet, but now that silence felt like a presence itself. A dire one. Yet oddly natural that a place built for such horrific work had been made soundproofed.
The trail felt deliberate. He moved as quickly as he could, pedes pounding against the floor, vents working as his run became a sprint. He slammed into a wall as his momentum carried him too fast to make a corner. There was a deep scratch under his fingers. Something big had left this mark, likely the same way he had, failing to calculate the tight turn while rushing.
He took off again, cold fear running up his spinal struts. These corridors didn’t lead to any exit. But by now he knew exactly where they did go.
His worst fears were confirmed when he reached the door to the mineshaft and found it had been torn from its frame and tossed aside like scrap. The trail of energon ended at the lip of the mineshaft. Optimus peered down into the blackness.
He cursed.
Whatever had taken Starscream had dragged him into the mine tunnels.