Chapter Text
The cry they heard a few moments after Megatron’s body was thrown to the ground was terrible, full of anguish and rage.
Optimus and Ironhide were forced to jump back as a large, tan shape hurtled towards them from the buildings above them, transformed, and immediately began to thrash at the still figure of their fallen enemy at their pedes.
“You fraggin’, pit-spawned piece of scrap metal! You promised me! How can you leave me here!” The garbled, high pitched Cybertronian grated on the ears and audio receivers of the humans and mechs who stood transfixed, shocked by the scene. The humans couldn’t understand the worlds, but the message was clear: Starscream was beyond pissed.
Optimus was the first to break out of the spell he was under, realizing it was Starscream before him, who was simultaneously ripping parts from the frame of his dead leader and screaming out his rage and terror. Optimus threw out his uninjured arm to stall Ironhide, who had moved forward to either seize or attack Starscream. He wanted to know what was happening here. He also couldn’t let a creature in so much obvious pain be harmed under his watch: it would be wrong, despite the fact that Starscream was one of their most formidable enemies. They were no longer engaged in battle, and Autobots didn’t kill out of cold blood. Ironhide shot him a questioning look out of the corner of his optics, but Optimus just shook his heLM and commed for him to wait.
The high-pitched moans suddenly stopped; the intersection they were on was starkly silent after the grating screeches from Starscream and the sound of metal rending metal ceased. The enraged mech suddenly slumped forward on his feet, standing ominously still and staring at a piece of scrap metal, possibly a piece of Megatron, that he had been using to bat at the fallen mech. Optimus suddenly knew what was going to happen a second before it occurred, and shot forward, reaching Starscream just in enough time to stop the metal shard from piercing more than just the outer casing of his spark chamber.
“Noooooo!” Starscream struggled ferociously to break Optimus’s one-armed grip, but the large mech had nearly twice his physical strength, and even when injured and missing an arm, could hold him. The seeker continued his fight, scratching his own armor and Optimus’s, and grating on sensitive nodes as he tried to pierce his own armor with the scrap piece. “Frag it, let me go! You have no right to hold me here! He’s dead! You killed him! I’ll kill you all, I’ll kill-!”
The square was suddenly silent again as Optimus wirelessly commanded Ratchet to hurry over and turn Starscream temporarily offline. Ratchet did so efficiently, large digits quickly finding the right panels, and not hesitating to follow the command of his Prime, despite the odd situation they found themselves in.
Optimus let a harsh gust slip from his vents. The celebratory mood that had been building just a moment ago had disappeared completely at this turn of events. He looked down at the still form gripped under his uninjured arm, then at the ravaged form of Megatron on the pavement and vented again. Regret for everything that had been lost in this war momentarily left him stunned. He shook himself mentally. No, now was not the time for doubt, but for decisiveness. He handed Starscream off to Ironhide, who could easily carry him, slender and lightweight as the seeker was.
“I…think it’s time we returned to the base. Ironhide, bring Starscream, and keep him in stasis until we arrive. Ratchet, help the human contingent with their injured, then follow. I think it’s time we put this fight behind us permanently.”
Ironhide grimaced at being made to carry an enemy mech, but nodded, still not sure why Optimus wanted to help Starscream, of all mechs. But Optimus was their leader, and Ironhide was nothing if not loyal. He slung the dead weight of the mech over one shoulder joint and followed behind his Prime, Bumblebee, and the other surviving Autobots towards the cargo ship that would take them back to base, and hopefully, some rest and explanations.
“Autobots,” Optimus looked around himself one more time; a sobering look at all the loss of life and opportunity around them. Had they really won this war, or had they lost more than could be recovered? So much wasted, so many fallen comrades. Once again he pushed these thoughts to the back of his processor. He’d retrieve them later and look them over in private. “Roll out.”
---------------------------------------o------------------------------------------------
Starscream let himself slowly drift out of his enforced recharge. He was in pain, but his processors had not yet fully come online, and he could not retrieve the memory of where that pain came from. He just knew it was terrible and not at all physical. He was in no hurry to fully recall all those details, so he let himself drift slowly upward into consciousness. His audio units clicked on before his optics and he cycled them once, becoming aware of low murmuring in Cybertronian in the distance and the fact that he was strapped tightly to a hard surface, probably a medical berth by the bleeps and hisses of equipment that he could hear around him. The voices steadily became clearer as his processor sluggishly revved up.
“...but I just don’t understand why we’re helping him, Prime. You of all mechs know how many of our soldiers he’sk illed.” Starscream blearily recognized that voice, although with his optics shuttered and powered down, he could not see the other bot. They seemed to be in another room, at any rate.
“Because it is the right thing to do, Ironhide. Until he is healed, we must treat him as a prisoner of war, and that includes appropriate medical attention. After that…” There was a poignant pause, “After that, we shall have to wait and see.”
Starscream definitely recognized that voice. Prime. The one who had killed his Megatron on the battlefield and stopped Starscream from following him to the Pits. Their eternal enemy… who was now going to protect and heal him? Starscream barely stifled a snort over how soft the Autobot leader was behaving. A Decepticon would have crushed his spark while he was offline. He wanted to hear what they had planned for him, so he quieted himself. It wouldn’t do for them to know he was online quite yet.
Then there was Ironhide. Starscream did not recall many interactions with that particular bot, and the few he did involved intense battle. This didn’t bode too well for him.
There was a loud snort –Starscream assumed it must be Ironhide, as he couldn’t imagine Prime making such a noise- and the sound of hydraulics releasing and a dull clang as a mech sat on the concrete floor. “Well, I don’t know how you plan to handle him, but you better have it figured soon. Ratchet says he’s gonna be up soon, and I doubt the fragger's is gonna be happy to be here.”
‘That’s why I’m assigning him to you, Ironhide,” intoned Prime.
There was a loud clank, “Now, wait just a moment! Why me?”
That had Starscream cycling on his optics in a hurry. Prime was going to keep him here under guard? He was being placed under the watch of the belligerent bulkhead who had slagged so many of his troops? Maybe Prime was not as kind and naive as Starscream once believed.
“I am needed to play politics with the human government to assure our ability to stay on this planet. Ratchet is too busy repairing bots and humans, as well as multiple other projects he is initializing to allow us to produce energon, create housing, and stay here on the base without disrupting the humans. Bumblebee is with Sam. We will be most likely out of battle for some time now as both sides recover. As my second in command here on Earth and weapons master, I trust in your ability to handle a mech of Starscream’s skill and follow my commands to not have him harmed.”
The other mech mumbled something that Starscream couldn’t understand and then vented loudly, “Fine, but don’t expect me to take his slag. He’ll get a good slap around if he can’t mind himself around me!”
“I would never expect that, old friend. Just make sure he comes to no harm from the others… nor himself.” There was silence at that. Starscream could understand why. Self induced off-line, what the humans called ‘suicide’ was decidedly rare among Cybertronians. Only extremely glitched mechs had ever been known to attempt it; those whose processor’s were usually considered irreparable or in an extreme state of defrag that usually only came with advanced age. That Starscream had attempted to douse his spark had probably shocked all the Autobots and made them wonder at the mental state of their prisoner.
Starscream snorted lightly through his vent panel: He didn’t care what they thought of him. He had reasons for what he did: Reasons none of them would find out, if he had a say in it at all.
The silence was broken by a third Cybertronian voice. Starscream had assumed there were only two.
“There’s something else.”
Pause. “What is it Ratchet?” asked Prime.
“I performed some base medical scans on Starscream while he was temporarily offline, and the results were… unexpected, to say the least.”
Starscream’s spark shuddered in his chest. No. No, they couldn’t know. He hadn’t counted on one of them scanning him for medical problems other than his ruptured armor and spark chamber. He had kept this secret from everyone except Megatron and had planned to go to his grave with it when he saw Megatron’s mangled frame lying in that filthy human street. Now that was all over. What was he going to do?
“Scans indicate that Starscream is… with spark,” Ratchet intoned seriously, “And, rather far along, I might add.”
The silence was thick.
“He’s… he’s what?” stuttered Ironhide, “How?”
Ratchet snorted, “I’m sure you know how, ‘Hide. I said, he’s with spark, or ‘sparking’ as it were. We’re going to have a little Starscream running around the base in a few weeks time if all goes well.”
“Primus.”
“Indeed,” sighed Ratchet.
Starscream jerked when Optimus spoke, he had forgotten the other mech was even in the room. “Do we know who the other creator is?”
“Take a wild guess,” Ratchet replied. Starscream could hear he amusement lacing his tone.
Starscream stared at the ceiling above him, rough with pipes and cords, and felt the cold of the metal berth seep into his wings. Primus. What was he going to do? Megatron had promised him. He promised that he wouldn’t have to be going through this alone. That was all empty words, lies even to his strained processor. He should have known better and purged the little spark the day he discovered its presence. Now it was too late for that.
Megatron and he hadn’t been trying for a spark, but they hadn’t exactly been trying to prevent one either. Sparklings were rare for Cybertronians at the best of times, but especially during times of great stress. Most Cybertronian frame’s shut down their reproductive protocols while the host bot was under extreme duress. Starscream’s body had decided to become the exception to the rule.
Megatron had wanted to keep it. Said it was the first sparkling in hundreds of earth years. He wanted to raise it to see the new Cybertron after the Autobots were all destroyed. He had whispered to Starscream that he couldn’t wait to see what the little one would grow into.
Starscream bit back on a sob that threatened to break his vocalizer.
He was really left with nothing now.
The worst part was that he knew what every mech would think of him when his secret was out: Megatron’s little plaything, spreading his legs to rise in rank. And the fact that he had tried to offline himself would only make it worse. Harming oneself or others was frowned upon in Cybertronian society (excepting a war situation like they were under), but harming a Cybertronian child was an atrocity. They were so rare that each sparkling was treated as invaluable and they were protected under the strictest of laws.
He’d be ostracized by even the other Decepticons when it got out that he had tried to off-line himself while in such an advanced state of sparking, no matter the circumstances.They would see him as weak, unfit to lead them now that Megatron was...was... He could never go back.
Starscream wished he could off-line his processor now through thought alone.
Prime was once again the one to break the stunned silence, “Well, that means that we’ll have to be even more diligent in protecting him and his sparkling. Let’s keep this between us for now.” There was a sound of shifting gears and several heavy footsteps, “I have to meet now with the secretary of defense. Ratchet, keep me updated on the repairs and any changes in Starscream’s condition. Ironhide…” A low vent, “Just watch out for him, and don’t let any harm come to him or anybot. He’ll need help settling in here and adapting. I don't plan for him to rust sitting in our brig. He’ll just have to learn to deal with the changes. I don't believe he has anywhere else to go after that scene on the battlefield. We will watch him closely." The sound of footsteps was moving away." I’m sure you can handle it, but message me if you need anything.”
“Yes, Prime. You do know you owe me for this, don’t’cha, Optimus?”
Starscream could hear the amusement in the deep voice, “Of course, old friend.” Heavy footsteps getting progressively distant indicated that Prime had made his way out of the medical bay and a second, lighter set of steps told him one of the other bots had moved off as well. There was blessed silence for a long while, and Starscream thought he had been left alone for the moment.
He was working himself into a good wallow when the sound of shifting hydraulics and a low moan alerted him to the fact that another mech was still in the adjacent room. Hollowly clanging footsteps got closer to the door that separated him from the other bot, and Starscream hastily shuttered his optics and strengthened his firewalls to prevent any unintentional wireless information sharing.
He listened as the heavy steps of the other bot entered the room, the doors automatically opening with a swish. The bot paused briefly, then stepped forward until he reached the side of Starscream’s berth and paused again. There was quiet as Starscream wondered what the other would do, if anything, until the shifting of gears and hydraulics told him that the other mech had sat down on the floor by the berth. There was once again silence, and Starscream found himself dozing halfway between alert and recharge.
A soft sigh brought him out of it slightly. “I guess it’s my job to take care of you now,” Ironhide whispered. Starscream didn’t have a response to that, and was glad the other mech thought him asleep. Heassumed that he was only talking about the sparkling, anyhow. Why would any Autobot want to care for Starscream? He allowed himself to slip into a tense recharge, knowing that there was little he could do about his situation at the time, anyhow.
He wanted to be fully recharged and awake for whenever the hammer dropped and the kind treatment he was receiving was shown to be as false as he was sure it was.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------o--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nearly two weeks later Ironhide had just about had enough. Ratchet had reluctantly released the Decepticon prisoner into solitary confinement a week and a half ago. The raging fight that all of the bots had been expecting when Starscream completely onlined never happened. The mech had been sulky and resistant to following the simplest orders, but the murderous rage from earlier seemed to have left him for good. For days, Ironhide had watched the mech sink slowly into himself, speaking to no one, and spending most of his time settled on his berth staring at the bare walls of his confinement cell.
Even offered energon and fuel supply went untouched, and that was what worried Ironhide the most. He knew a growing sparkling and its host creator needed more fuel than a mech normally would, and Starscream’s refusal to eat was putting the young one’s life in danger. He only was getting nutrients whn Ratchet forced him to accept energon lines in the med-bay.
He stomped over to the mech in the cell. “You have to refuel.”
Silence.
Ironhide sighed, moving into the cell from from his place by the door, grabbing the energon and fuel containers, and slamming them on the berth next to the sullen mech. Starscream didn’t so much as turn to look at him, and Ironhide's engines growled low in frustration.
“If you don’t refuel, you’ll shut down. Is that what you want?” Starscream continued to stare at the blank grey wall opposite the berth, the only sign he’d heard the other mech was a deepening of the sneer on his face and a slight whir of noise as he rotated his optics.
Ironhide vented harshly, “And what about your sparkling? You want its systems to fail before it’s even formed properly?” This caused the first reaction Ironhide had seen in over a day of silence. Starscream flinched slightly and his helm turned slowly so that he could glance at Ironhide through half-shuttered optics.
His expression unnerved Ironhide slightly: His optics were dull, almost blank, and without any luminescence. The ever present sneer seemed brittle and twisted his faceplates into something grotesque.
“Yesss.” He hissed, “I don’t want it. I want it gone from me. You can have it, if it means so much to you, but I don’t want anything to do with it.”
Ironhide was shocked, then enraged. He’d never met anybot with such disregard for life, especially the life of a sparkling. He prowled forward and caught the other mech by the back of his helm, wrenching it backward. Starscream snarled in protest as Ironhide uncapped the energon container and practically forced the whole thing down the other bot’s throat.
Spluttering and cursing his name, Starscream shoved the bigger mech away from him. “Leave me alone! It’s none of your concern what I do!” He hurled the container at Ironhide’s head, which he barely ducked, and surged to his feet. “What do you care whether I live or die? I’m a prisoner here, alone. What sort of life do you expect I or any child of Megatron’s to have on the backwards little slag pit of a planet run by Autobots and the great and mighty Prime?” He snarled sarcastically, and his whole frame shuddered as he collapsed against the berth. “It’s over; I have nothing left to live for here, and nowhere to return to.” He shuttered his optics tightly. “You took him from me.”
The mech looked devastated.
Ironhide sighed sharply, and made a quick decision. He grimaced and sat on the berth beside the other mech. “Prime will make a place for you here.”
Starscream scooted away from the bigger mech, sneering, but keeping his optics tightly closed. “A life surrounded by enemies that hate the very sight of me? That’s some life. That is of course where I’d want to raise a sparkling and spend all the cycles I have left before me.” His wings flickered with a vibrating stutter.
Despite the fact that only days ago he had been fighting to the death with this very bot, Ironhide was shocked and dismayed to see the mech behave this way. He expected screaming matches, fits of pique, even a little energon-shed. Starscream was known for being a survivor; he would do anything, say anything to keep on going one more day. This hollow shell of a mech before him grated on everything he thought he knew about Decepticons. Ironhide didn’t like it.
Keeping his distance, Ironhide regarded Starscream. Ironhide knew he wasn't the wisest of mechs, but he at least had to try. For the sparkling, if nothing else. “Yes. You’ll have ta deal with mechs who won’t forgive or forget easily. You’ve killed our fighters, and sent other mechs ta do even more damage ta our ranks.” Ironhide shifted, gears whirling. “But you have a responsibility ta your sparkling ta deal with it. It’s going ta need you. It’s going ta need ta be around other mechs, ta learn and ta be whole. You can’t abandon it.”
“But I don’t want it, don’t you understand!?” Starscream shrieked, slamming his hand down on the berth hard enough to crack his own finger plates.
“You don’t have a choice!” Ironhide reared up next to the other bot again, reached out, and shook him by the glass covering his chest plates. “You created it, and despite who else it was created by, it deserves a chance at life and freedom. That’s the right of ev'ry sentient being!”
The both paused, staring at each other. The silenced stretched until a surprised chuckled forced itself pass Starscream’s vocalizer. Ironhide released his grip and slumped down on the berth, placing his helm between his own hands and chuckling helplessly along with Starscream.
“I didn’t just say that.” Ironhide wheezed.
“You did.” Starscream’s laughter was slightly hysterical. He tried to muffle it in a servo.
“I should eat one of my own cannons. Primus! I’m starting ta sound like Optimus…” Ironhide looked out from between his digits. “You still need ta recharge. Then we’ll have Ratchet take a look at your fingers.” Spontaneously, Ironhide reached out and grabbed the bent plating. “Did yourself a number there, didn’t ya?”
Starscream winced and tugged his aching hand away. After a long pause, he then slowly reached out took another container of energon and a few fuel tabs, and hesitantly scooted away from Ironhide. Locking his gaze back on the blank metal wall, he sipped at the energon. Then, as if suddenly realizing he hadn’t refueled in almost a week’s time, he downed the entire container and the fuel tabs in seconds, before hastily reaching for more.
Ironhide hid a grin as he watched the ravenous mech empty the entire tray within seconds. He then frowned as he realized he direly needed to talk to Optimus. In just a few short days his entire world had shifted. The grudging concern, and even affection, that he felt for his former enemy confused him. Why was it happening? Should he allow it?
Starscream was lightly framed. Up close, that was very apparent. Ironhide supposed he’d have to be lightly armored to fly quickly, but that meant he’d be easily harmed in battle. He’d have had to be extremely skilled and quick to escape unscathed as many times as he had. Ironhide admired such strength in a fighter, even if it had been for the wrong side. The seeker was young: Much younger than Ironhide himself, though older than their youngest recruit on base, Bumblebee, by quite a few human centuries. How must it have been for him in this war, following a tyrant like Megatron? Oh, Ironhide had no doubt that Starscream enjoyed the destruction and believed in the cause of the Decepticons, but it couldn’t have been easy being second in command to a heartless tyrant like Megatron. Ironhide had seen the warlord's horrible treatment of even his own mechs.
None of that explained why Ironhide felt the need to do right by this seeker. Millions of years of fighting and energon-shed, and watching the mech slowly fall into misery had changed his view. It wasn't just about protecting the sparkling. Ironhide wanted Starscream to recover, as well.
“After we get you repaired, we’ll talk ta Prime about getting you something ta do.” Ironhide stood and looked down at the smaller mech. “It’s about time you got out of this room and started pulling your own weight around here. Hark work will set you right, set your processors right. You'll see.”
Starscream looked at him dubiously, but didn’t protest. Maybe Ironhide had a point. Maybe if he could get his processors off all he had lost even for a moment, he’d find some way to make everything line up again. If he could find a niche here, among these bots, maybe he could attempt to raise his sparkling on his own. If he could get his thought processes off Megatron, for even just a nanosecond, maybe…
Right. When grounders fly.
-----------------------------------------o--------------------------------------
Three weeks later, and Starscream was ready to bust some Autobot helms again. It wasn’t just the sneers and jeers, the thinly veiled insults and whispered threats: No, he had been expecting all of that from the beginning. Despite the fact that it was beginning to grate on his sensors, Starscream could tolerate it. It was the bulkheads and useless drones he was being forced to work with. Starscream, premier scientist and combat fighter, Air Commander of the Decepticons, was put on construction duty with hulking idiots and forced to build appropriate housing for the remaining Cybertronians on Earth.
Not that he didn’t agree that it needed to be done, it was just that he shouldn’t be the one doing it! He wasn’t built for heavy labor, and he had so much more to offer than lifting concrete slabs all day. He should be working on refining the energon replicators or medical technology- to the pits, he’d even take converting disgusting human fossil fuel into something that wouldn’t clog all their pipes.
But working with the construction builds was going to permanently glitch his sensors. And the humans! If working with bots who hated him wasn’t bad enough, the puny little bipedal cockroaches thought they could order him around like some common machine just because this was their base he was living on. They were unimaginably rude. Starscream snorted hard through his vents. Like the little scraps were smart enough to order around a calculator, let alone one such as himself. He was Starscream, slaggit!
Yet, if he said something to any of them, one of the other bots would be in his face in a nanosecond, and that was the last thing he needed.
Claws aching and struts tight, he growled and made his way quickly towards the room that had been designated his in order to avoid any lingering mechs or humans. He’d had enough of that for one cycle. Ironhide had been given the okay not to tail him when it became obvious he wasn’t going to try anything nefarious. And why would he? What could he possibly accomplish, and where would he go afterwards?
No, it was better to just keep his helm down and his wings close for now.
Ironhide’s release from guard duty apparently didn’t mean he wasn’t going to drop in on Starscream to ‘check up’ on him about once daily. After his long trek over the grounds of Diego Garcia, Starscream spotted him loitering outside the moderately sized hangar that served as his quarters. Starscream was one of the few mechs on the base to berth completely alone, for 'protection purposes' they said. That would be just fine if it wasn’t driving him completely out of his processors. He hadn’t been alone like this in a long time. He was always with Megatron or the crew of the Nemesis. Before that, he had his trine with him. It was actually good to see the weapons master there, trying not to look suspicious as he waited for Starscream.
He smirked evilly at Ironhide as he approached the hangar doors. “What do you want this time, Ironhide?” He slapped the panel on the side door, switching on his wireless capabilities and entering the numerical code needed to open his door before slipping inside. He held the door aloft, letting it slide down silently after Ironhide followed him inside.
He headed over to one of his large side shelves immediately, popped a cap on an energon container, and tossed the purple liquid back. He had to admit, despite all their faults, these bots knew how to make some fine mid-grade energon. Especially that Ratchet. It was a quality he hadn't seen since Vos.
“What’s got your bolts in a twist, Star? Have a good day at work?” Ironhide knew exactly how much Starscream hated his duty assignment from previous rants, and didn’t even side-step the energon container suddenly hurled towards his helm, just batted it away. “Now, now. Hard work does the body right. And you wouldn’t want your sparkling to see such violence from one of its creators so early on. You need to curb that instinct before the little one comes along.”
Starscream hissed. “Joke all you want.. It’s not in the least bit funny.” Ironhide sat back and watched the show, used to these rants after three straight weeks of complaints from the mech. “You should just listen to those bots I’m assigned to work with. Not enough gears in their processors to run a radio between them! I’m ready to throw in the tarp and go work with the disgusting little humans in reclamations. At least the conversation would be more intelligent!” Starscream snorted, “And then, I go to the medical bay to get a stripped joint fixed, and have to wait around for an hour watching Prime and his little medic dance around each other like prepubescent human younglings. Why doesn’t Prime just take the bot to berth all ready and save the rest of us from having to watch their courtship rituals?”
Ironhide let out an amused whir at that. He knew Optimus and Ratchet were in a relationship that seemed to cycle from intense to hesitant quicker than most could process it. Prime had taken Ratchet to berth many times, Ironhide knew, but it always seemed to be a fight or a delicate game of persuasion to get Ratchet to go along with anything. Ironhide himself had witnessed Prime try to toe the line many times, and couldn’t help but be amused at Starscream’s ire over it. He wasn’t going to give him any details, however. Let him suffer it out like the rest of them had to.
“Why don’t you tell them that then?”
Starscream looked at him with wide eyes, and then sneered, “Hah. Funny. I’m not suicidal. Ratchet’d take me apart in my sleep and I don’t think Prime would try to stop him.” Ironhide didn’t make the obvious comments about ’suicidality,’ but moved on to easier topics in order to ward off the second half of the rant he could see forming.
“Why don’t you ask Optimus to reassign you? It’s been nearly a month now, and no one’s had reason to complain about your work, attitude aside. I’m sure he’d at least consider it.”
Starscream ignored the implied slight on his ‘attitude.’ “You think he’d trust me with anything more important that soldering and hauling metal?” Starscream cycled his optics derisively, “I wouldn’t in his position.”
“Optimus is nothing if not fair. He’ll at least listen and most likely, he’ll try ta find work that better suits your talents, with somebot who can stand your… er… unique temper'ment.” Starscream cycled his optics again. “You do realize that means you might end up working with humans and mechs in the science department, though? Think you can handle it without crushing the little bits?”
Starscream grimaced, but nodded his helm. “I can tolerate the beasts. I can tolerate almost anything if it gets me away from those clunk-heads in construction.” Starscream twitched his wings, “But if one more puny flesh-bag asks if she can “feel the baby kick” or whatever it is that they want, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
Ironhide spluttered. “Some of them actually asked you that?”
Starscream seemed to pout a bit. “Yes. The one’s who don’t hate the sight of me seem to want to fawn all over me after Prime announced I was sparking. I still don’t agree with that, by the way. I don’t care what he says!” He stomped a foot petulantly and glared.
“Optimus was right. Telling everybot was for your and the sparkling’s protection. Not even the most unforgiving of mechs would attack a sparking bot. Notice that none of them have tried ta jump you since?” Ironhide waited for Starscream’s reluctant nod before asking, “How is it going, by the way? Processes all running smoothly?” He eyed the armor plates covering the approximate location of Starscream’s sparking chamber
Starscream ran a hand lightly over his chest-plates, head tilting in thought. "The protocols are initializing and running smoothly. Ratchet says everything is cycling down now. I’ll be in the cool down process soon.” He looked a bit troubled for a moment, but it was gone from his face plates so quickly that Ironhide wondered if his processors had made it up. “I’ll have a new little mech to raise in a few weeks time. Thank Primus they aren’t as useless as human younglings when they first emerge, or nothing would get accomplished.”
Ironhide had to agree with that. He didn’t like being around human babies. He remembered Lennox’s child that he used to bring around before the girl had grown large enough to enter the humans’ educational system. He’s always felt he was going to forget and squish the thing, and it wouldn’t have the sense or ability to scurry out of the way before it happened. He shook his helm to free himself of the disturbing image. “Have you picked out a designation for it yet?’
Starscream paused, his hand freezing where it had been gingerly rubbing his abdominal armor. He tensed, and said “I’ve picked a Cybertronian name for him.” He emitted a short but surprisingly melodic name in the shrill staticky language of the mechs.
“That’s nice. I wouldn’t have thought of naming it after one of the Cybertronian suns. It’ll be a nice reminder of home.” Ironhide was pleased that Starscream was taking a larger interest in the development of his sparkling. Even after their hard conversation a month ago, he still tended to look morose and disturbed when anyone mentioned his sparking or the youngling itself. “Though, since I think we’ll be on this planet for quite some time, you’ll need ta designate it something the human vocal chords can pronounce. Just for propriety’s sake.” He let his face plates morph into a grin as he gave the other mech a playful shove to get him to move over on the berth. Hydraulics whining –Ironhide reminded himself to let Ratchet do some loosening and oil work on his complaining leg joints- he lowered himself down.
Starscream still looked wary. “I don’t know.” He dragged his optics away and looked at anything in the room but Ironhide, which wasn’t much, “I…I was thinking of maybe…”
“What? Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.”
Starscream’s eyes finally locked onto the larger mech’s and he stated seriously, “I was thinking of possibly naming it after you. How does Ironstar sound?”
Ironhide flinched and stared at Starscream with shock. “After me? Why?”
Starscream looked away. “Why don’t you want it to be named for you?” Ironhide saw that his entire frame was tense. He didn’t know exactly what was going on here, but he knew it was important. The other mech looked like his world depended on Ironhide’s next comment.
Ironhide’s vocalizer crackled slightly as he answered, “It’s not…that I don't like it. Ironstar’s a beautiful name. I don’t mind, in fact I’m honored. I’m just surprised. I thought that you’d want to name it after…”
Starscream turned to look at him suddenly, optics blaring in anger. “You thought wrong! You think I’d want to remind him and everyone else of… of that every time his name is spoken, of all that went wrong here? Of the other creator he’ll never meet?! That would be cruel. And who knows how’d others would treat him with such a stark reminder of- “ Starscream vented harshly, and choked out a derisive squawk through his vocalizer, shuttering his optics tight, and visibly trying to calm his racing engines, raising his palm to his optics. “And… and what would I call him, anyway? Megastar?” He snorted into his hand.
Ironhide, glad the eminent crisis had been diverted, let out a weak sound of amusement as well. “That is pretty bad. No, what about Megascream? That’s even worse.”
Starscream let out a slightly hysterical giggling whine at the thought. “Megascream,” he choked, “Primus, don’t even joke like that.”
They sat there in surprisingly companionable silence, each lost in their own private processes. The peace went on for quite a while before Starscream glanced up at Ironhide.
“I also thought…” he hesitated, “I also thought that you might consider being a guardian to the little spark… if something ever happened to me. I know you’d,” he paused again, meeting his optics straight on, “I trust you to protect it, more than any other mech here. I... just thought you didn’t want it named after you, because you didn’t want to be associated with anything to do with…”
“No!” Ironhide rushed to assure him, shock spiraling through his systems at being asked to be the youngling’s guardian. “I was just surprised, is all.” He shook his helm ruefully, “Are you sure you want an old rust bucket like me as his guardian? There’s much smarter mechs here than me, as I’m sure you know.”
Starscream looked at him seriously, “I trust you.” Starscream didn’t know why but he did trust Ironhide. “It will be hard for him here, his other creator being who he was. I’d hate to think you’d avoid him as well because of his parentage.” Things were changing around him so rapidly. He blamed the situation he was in. Just under two months ago he was fighting these mechs to the death. Now he was dependent on them for almost everything, and the only companionship he’d had the entire time was this mech sitting beside him. It made his processors threaten to glitch, but there it was.
Ironhide, despite his gruff nature and willingness beat down anyone who called into question his loyalty to Prime and the Autobots had not once threatened him or even made much mention of their conflicting past. He had helped him navigate this strange new world Starscream found himself in without complaint, and only teased him gently when differing views or Starscream’s temperament got in the way of smooth relations.
Starscream couldn’t fathom why the hardened fighter was treating him, a long time enemy who’d destroyed many of his comrades, with such kindness. No other mech behaved this way. Other than Prime and Ratchet, the mechs tended to sneer and snarl at him, if not attack him since the announcement of his sparking. Otherwise, they ignored him completely. Even the idiotic construction workers only said what was necessary to get the job done, and spent their time making inane jokes and comments amongst themselves.
However, Ironhide went out of his way to seek him out, to force him to socialize, if only with Ironhide himself. Sometimes, he was annoyingly mothering, making sure that Starscream was getting enough rest and energon, despite constant reassurances by Starscream and Ratchet that he was. He even started to occasionally call him ‘Star,’ an affectionate name that Starscream had only heard from his Trine mates.
That’s how Starscream knew Ironhide would be the perfect guardian for his sparkling. He was already so protective of it, and catered towards all its needs. He had been doing so for weeks now.
“Ironhide, I know you’ll protect him.”
Ironhide hesitated, but then nodded his helm. “All right, I will be his guardian, though I’ll be fragged if anything happens ta make him need one. You’re gonna be there for that youngling. Nothings gonna happen ta you.”
“You can’t protect me from everything, Ironhide. Once I’m through sparking, I’m sure I’ll be number one on everybot’s slag list again.” Starscream let a little evil smile twist his face plates. “I’m fine with that. Let them try something. I just needed to know the sparkling would have somewhere to go if…” Starscream flinched as Ironhide suddenly growled and jumped from the berth and started pacing, before abruptly pausing and turning to look at Starscream again.
“You… you just get some recharge. Tomorrow, I’ll go with you to talk with Optimus about being reassigned.” Starscream perked at that, missing the intent look in Ironhide’s optics.
“Do you really believe he’ll transfer me? I don’t know if can take another week of those fools.”
Ironhide shrugged his large shoulder plates, an expression he’d picked up from watching Sam, “We’ll just have to see.” He smirked at Starscream as he made his way towards the hangar door. The expression reminded Starscream disturbingly of Megatron. “If he disagrees, I have been known to be rather… persuasive.” He stepped out with a jaunty wave –another learned human expression- and Starscream couldn’t help but grin himself. Things weren’t going to bad after all. He could handle it.
Tbc…
