Chapter Text
Starscream stormed through the base, stride as fast as he could make it without bursting into a run.
Megatron had called a retreat shortly after his departure, but his early withdrawal had not gone unnoticed.
“Hey Screamer!” Skywarp’s voice rang down the corridor. “Screamer!”
Starscream ignored him, stalking into the next security corridor -only to walk face first into a flash of purple as his trine-mate teleported directly into his path. Starscream stumbled back, servo flying to the nose he’d just bonked against the taller seeker’s shoulder.
“You deaf?” Skywarp demanded, trying to grab him.
Starscream ducked and span under his arm with a snarl. “I’m busy-“
“Too busy to stay and finish the raid?” Skywarp demanded angrily, keeping pace with him.
Starscream’s shoulders had climbed up his audials, his wings lifting to block Skywarp from seeing his face. “I preempted Megatron’s order-“
“You were halfway across the Pacific by the time he gave that order-“
Starscream scoffed, “And how would you know?”
“I followed you.”
Starscream’s stride faltered, colour filling his face as he thought of what else Skywarp might have seen-
“So you’ve nothing better to do than spy on me?!” He rounded on him. “You should have been defending the perimeter.”
“You should have been defending the perimeter!” Skywarp shot back, but there was colour in his face too. “I saw you go talk to that medic-“
Starscream stopped, his spark leaping unpleasantly. “I didn’t talk to any Autobot! If you saw me with the medic it was because I was trying to kill him!“
Skywarp laughed humourlessly, “Well you did a slag job of it, Screamer.”
“What do you want?!” Starscream yelled, too overwrought for this interrogation. “Why are you following me?!”
Skywarp leaned back, his anger displaced by hesitation. “I- I dunno, I just- those Autobots got real attached to you. That medic especially.”
Starscream stared incredulously, “What?!”
Skywarp shrugged, “…I was- I was worried maybe you got attached to them too.”
Nausea curled through Starscream’s tank systems. “I don’t remember it. I don’t remember them. And what you’re insinuating is treasonous!”
Skywarp mouth pressed into a frown, “So’s not shooting an Autobot stood ten feet in front of you.”
And with that, Skywarp teleported himself right out of the conversion. Starscream was left standing in the empty security corridor, feeling raw and exposed.
In the depths of his spark, the remnants of a bond continued to stir, reaching for him.
Ratchet returned to the Ark in a stupor.
There was damage to repair and injuries to be dealt with, but as he worked his digits were numb and clumsy, his mind in a haze. It was like he was stuck elsewhere, all while the world continued to turn around him.
It was only when he’d made Ironhide curse in pain twice while repairing his servo joint that someone finally stepped in.
“Hey.”
A servo closed around his wrist. Ratchet looked up. It was First Aid.
“I’ll finish up here.” He said in a kind, patronising sort of tone reserved for nervous wrecks. “Your duty shift’s finished.”
It wasn’t. And even if it was, that wasn’t how he operated.
“Thank Primus,” Ironhide breathed in relief, but at Ratchet’s scowl shrank back nervously. “I mean, uh, thanks Ratch’-“
Ratchet didn’t argue, which in itself seemed to worry the med-bay’s occupants.
He made it back to his quarters, but stood just inside the threshold to stare around the empty room. The old crib had been shoved into the corner, with some of Comet’s old belongings tossed in; a few mangled toys he’d tried to destroy, the boots for his thrusters he’d hated wearing.
It felt like grief was playing a cruel trick on him. He replayed the moment, the feeling, over and over again, but it still didn’t explain anything.
He had felt Comet. It couldn’t have been anyone else. It was his presence; grumpy, stubborn, high-strung and …desperately lonely.
He sat on the edge of his berth, staggered by it all.
It was Starscream.
It had always been Starscream. The whole time.
Starscream, who hadn’t wanted to fuel and hadn’t wanted to nap and hadn’t wanted to play and hadn’t wanted to be comforted, or held, or loved.
He swallowed around the lump building in his throat and reached into his subspace for a data-pad, hastily logging into the secure network to gain access to the intel files they had on the Decepticon Second In Command.
It was all information he already knew; all his crimes and atrocities. Pages and pages of the evil he had done. Ratchet scrolled past it all, centuries of it, until he reached the beginning.
Starscream’s first arrest by the Autobot Security Force, back when he had been first recruited. Still an adult but so much younger, standing there with his angry pout after getting caught.
A new sort of grief threatened to swallow Ratchet as he looked at him. Looked at… Comet, all grown up.
A ping on his door-comm had him switching the data-pad off and stowing it away, straightening up and clearing his vocaliser, “Yeah?”
The door swept open to admit Wheeljack. He surveyed Ratchet from the doorway.
“…You okay?”
“Fine.” Ratchet said gruffly.
Wheeljack didn’t appear to believe him. He crossed the room to join Ratchet on the edge of the berth.
“I saw you confront Starscream.”
Ratchet kept his breathing steady.
“What did he say?” Wheeljack pressed.
“…What did he say?”
“About Comet?”
Ratchet cleared his vocaliser again. What was he supposed to say? That it turns out Comet doesn’t exist anymore? Never did, actually.
“He doesn’t know.” He said instead. “He said he didn’t know.”
Wheeljack hummed disbelievingly, reaching over to take Ratchet’s shoulder. “Jazz is putting spec ops on it. They’re going to focus on his movements in and out of Decepticon territory. If he’s hiding anything, we’ll know before long.”
Dread swirled through Ratchet’s chest. He nodded stiffly.
“No one’s giving up.” Wheeljack promised firmly. “We’ll find him. We’ll get him back.”
He had to tell them, Ratchet realised. They couldn’t endlessly search for a nonexistent sparkling at the expense of the greater war effort. Comet did not exist. They were never going to find him.
Wheeljack gave his shoulder one last squeeze before standing up. Ratchet numbly bid him goodbye, and then he was gone, leaving Ratchet alone in the room.
Despite his better judgement, he took out the data-pad again to look at Starscream’s mugshot.
An adult, but barely, he realised. His optics were a little too big for his face still, which was softer and rounder, none of the harsh edges of the hardened war criminal he knew now. His nose was Comet’s nose. His pout was Comet’s pout.
Something ached in his chest when he looked at him.
He lowered the data-pad and glared up at the ceiling.
Comet may not exist.
But Starscream did.
Ratchet just needed to figure out a way to get to him.
Starscream rolled over in his berth, but the space beside him was empty and cool. His arms swept out in search of the larger frames that should be lying either side of him. There was nothing but air.
His optics flickered online as he woke, confused. Where was-?
He stopped. He was in his quarters. Alone.
He sat up and shivered. It was colder in the Decepticon base, not just because they were so far from the sun, but because Megatron was cheap and never wanted to spare the energon on heating. It was alright for him, with his thick armour and oversized engines.
Starscream pulled his insulation sheet around his wings, tightening it around himself.
He wasn’t used to recharging alone anymore.
For one pathetic moment he wanted to get up and go to his trine, sleep between them -before he smashed that infantile urge down with furious resentment.
He didn’t need them. Didn’t need anyone. It was latent programming from his ‘mishap’. Nothing more. It would go with time.
Still, he couldn’t sleep. The room was too quiet and his thoughts too loud.
He shucked the blanket off and got up. He would take a flight; both warm himself up and burn off energy.
He had hoped to slip out unnoticed. Despite Soundwave’s work concocting a plausible story, Decepticons were still suspicious; still whispering rumours in dark corners, still watching him with curiosity.
Unfortunately, one of those more curious Decepticons was loitering by the tower.
“Are you even allowed out, after what happened?” Ramjet called as Starscream approached.
“After ‘what’ happened?” Starscream challenged.
“With that sparkling,” Ramjet shrugged, amused as he saw the colour drain from Starscream’s face. “And whatever it was that had Soundwave making up that slag about you being on Cybertron with Shockwave. Like the two of you can spend one cycle together without trying to kill each other, let alone two months-“
Starscream grabbed him by the throat and pinned him to the doors of the tower.
Ramjet choked, servos flying up to break Starscream’s grip. Starscream remembered how the Conehead had manhandled him as a sparkling, had dangled him by the foot and shaken him about. He squeezed. Ramjet’s optics widened in shock. He wasn’t amused now.
“Stay out of my business.” Starscream hissed. “And stay out of my way.”
He released Ramjet and the Conehead stumbled away, coughing. Starscream hit the access panel to open the doors, hoping to slip away before he recovered.
“‘Bots are out tonight…” Ramjet wheezed. “Saw on the monitors…”
Starscream hesitated, then entered the security sequence to raise the tower anyway. After weeks spent spying on their manoeuvres he knew the Aerialbot’s every move, every weakness. He could have them dropping like flies.
And he would, if they tried anything.
Because they meant nothing to him.
None of them did.
Silverbolt landed gracefully beside Ratchet, expression full of concern. “Shouldn’t you be getting some rest?”
Ratchet kept his focus on the horizon, where ocean met sky. The remaining Aerialbots were heading back this way, patrol route finished.
“I’m old, but I’m not that old,” Ratchet reproached him. “I’ve been running night patrols since before you were sparked.”
Silverbolt rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “No, I know, I just meant, after all that’s happened-“
“I’m fine.” Ratchet cut across him.
Air Raid landed with a skid on the shoreline. Fireflight, wanting to emulate him, attempted to do the same, but ended up kicking up a heavy spray of damp sand over his brother. Air Raid cursed and kicked sand back at him. The remaining Aerialbots landed to try and break them up.
“Ratch’, about Comet-“
“It wasn’t your fault.” Ratchet stopped him before he could start. He knew Silverbolt felt guilty, and he knew he hadn’t done much to alleviate that guilt. “Don’t make me tell you again.”
Silverbolt looked away, “Are you coming back with us?”
It was unlikely there would be any activity tonight. All the Decepticons were accounted for and there was no indication they were prepping for any night raids, but Ratchet didn’t want to risk missing something. Spec Ops had reassured him they were keeping an eye out for Starscream, but that only filled Ratchet with a new kind of worry.
He didn’t want Jazz or Prowl involved. Didn’t want them trying to corner Starscream and…
He just needed to speak with him. Alone.
“I’m going to stay out a little a longer.” Ratchet breathed, still staring out.
“I’ll stay with you.” Silverbolt decided.
“The Pit you will. I don’t need a babysitter,” Ratchet pointed him back in the direction of the Ark. “Take your brothers home.”
Silverbolt, ever the obedient Autobot, began to round up his brothers, brushing the sand off their frames and pushing them back up the beach. “See you can at home, Ratchet.”
“See you,” Ratchet murmured, listening to them takeoff again.
Before long he was alone with the crashing waves. It was a quiet night, and the air was still.
Ratchet exhaled heavily.
What was he doing? What was he even going to say?
He was angry. At Starscream. At himself. He felt he’d been betrayed. That it had all been some mocking ploy to spy on them. It was so unspeakably cruel to let this bond form between them, all based on a lie.
Ratchet rubbed his servos over his face, exhausted. He should go back to the Ark, pour himself a stiff drink-
The hum of jet engines sounded in the distance.
Ratchet looked behind him, wondering if the Aerialbots were doubling back. But no, it was coming from the other direction, from out at sea.
Ratchet’s spark pulse picked up. He tilted his helm back, searching the dark sky for any sign of over-polished white armour. It was a moonless night, and he couldn’t see anything, but the engines were deafening.
And then something was dropping out of the sky, right on top of him.
Ratchet dove out of the way as Starscream came slamming down into the sand with an aggressive thud. He scrambled upright, sand in his optics, and turned to face Starscream.
Nullrays were armed and pointing at him.
Ratchet sighed, “Not this again-“
“Servos were I can see them, Auto-Scum.” Starscream snarled, optics sharp and hateful. “Or I’ll blast your digits clean off.”
Ratchet had no doubt Starscream would, given that he was a horrid little psycho. He lifted his servos halfheartedly. “Alright Starscream. You caught me-“
“What do you want?!” Starscream demanded. “Why are you out here?!”
Ratchet could lie and say he was loitering after a patrol, that this was all just a coincidence. But it wasn’t. And Starscream wasn’t stupid. He knew it wasn't.
“I was waiting for you.”
Starscream’s face scrunched up in anger. He looked like Comet right before a bath.
“That was rather stupid of you,” he spat.
“Looks that way, doesn’t it.” Ratchet sighed. “Alright, you can shoot me now.”
Starscream stared at him, unmoving.
“Well?” Ratchet pressed.
“…I kill you and your Prime will be out for my helm.” Starscream growled.
“I didn’t say kill, just shoot.” Ratchet opened his arms wider, so Starscream could get a better shot.
Starscream looked furious. His face had turned bright purple as the derma flushed with energon. The same colour it went when Comet would gear up for a tantrum. Primus. How had he never seen it before?! It was so obvious now.
“You think I won’t?!”
“I didn’t stay that,” Ratchet was surprised at how easy he found it to stay calm. Starscream was violent, unpredictable, and had his weapons pointed at him, but he didn’t feel like he was in danger.
He felt more annoyed that Starscream was being so melodramatic.
“What is this?!” Starscream gestured with a nullray, continuing the melodrama. “Do have a death wish?! You rather I waste my ammunition blowing your processor out than do it yourself?”
Ratchet was beginning to loose patience. “For Primus’s sake, Starscream. You know why I’m here.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“You don’t know what I’m talking about, fine,” Ratchet muttered sarcastically. “Where have you been then?”
“Have the Autobots got medics doing their intelligence work now?” Starscream mocked.
That was it, Ratchet was tired of beating around the bush. “I know who you are.”
“I should think so.” Starscream hissed. “We’ve been fighting this war long enough-“
“You’re Comet.”
Starscream froze, optics widening. He looked younger, when he was scared.
“…I don’t know who that is.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I don’t-“
“Then you would have shot me.” Ratchet growled. “If you really don’t know anything, can’t remember, don’t know what I’m talking about. You would have shot me at the raid and you would shoot me now!”
Starscream didn’t move. His breaths were coming quicker. “…I don’t kill unarmed mecha.”
“Yes, you do.” Ratchet shook his helm. “I’ve seen you do it. A hundred times. Seen you shoot civilians and bystanders. I’ve seen you shoot prisoners-“
“What do you want?!” Starscream shrieked, frazzled now. His wings were sticking upright like a spooked cat. “What do you want?!”
Ratchet realised he didn’t know how to answer.
Or maybe he did. He just couldn’t say it out loud.
“…How did it happen?” He asked instead.
Starscream swallowed, his nullrays drifting lower, pointing at Ratchet’s pedes now. “Nothing happened.”
“An experiment, maybe?” Ratchet took a cautious step closer. “Something gone wrong?”
Starscream’s expression answered the question for him.
“Tell me you remember it,” Ratchet pressed. “Tell me you remember me?”
“I. Don’t.” Starscream hissed.
“Are you sure?” Ratchet reached for the bond, tugging on Starscream’s end.
Starscream visibly flinched. The bond opened up a faction, spilling fear and embarrassment and guilt.
“Don’t.” Starscream snarled, slamming it shut. “Don’t do that.”
Reluctantly, Ratchet released his hold on the bond. “You can still feel me-“
“I don’t have a choice!” Starscream suddenly burst out. “You don’t think If I could cut this out of me I would! This invasion of my spark! This bond you forced on me!”
“You can’t force a bond, moron!” Ratchet barked back.
“I didn’t want any of this!” Starscream hissed spitefully.
“Yes, you did.” Ratchet pointed at the ungrateful little brat. “You wanted me- you needed me!”
“I don’t need anyone!” Starscream shouted, coolant building in his optics. His thrusters had ignited. “I don’t need you-!“
“Don’t you dare fly away from me,” Ratchet marched forward to grab him. “Don’t you dare-!”
Starscream took to the air, seconds before Ratchet could grab him.
“Get down here now,” Ratchet roared up at him. “This conversation is not over, Starscream!”
“Get fragged medic!” Starscream spat childishly, and flipped into a transformation sequence.
“I’m not going anywhere, Starscream!” Ratchet shouted, even as he blasted into the sky, disappearing into the darkness. “You hear me?! I’m not going anywhere!”
Primus, he thought in the aftermath, spark pounding and voice hoarse. He dropped back to sit in the sand and rub at his optics.
So, this was probably what having a rebellious teenager was like.