Reaper
A/N: Summary: Starscream is left for dead, blind and grounded, for the final time by Megatron, and falls into Autobot hands at the mercy of Arcee. The vengeful omnicon is forced to look after him. All sorts of chaos will ensue. Starscream x Arcee (Starcee), with bits of Megatron x Starscream; slight AU
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Disclaimer: Transformers belongs to Hasbro!
I am wondering right through existence
With no purpose and no drive
Two thousand years I've been awake, waiting for the day to shake
Dear all of you who've wronged me
I am, I am a zombie
Again you want me to fall on my head
To go before I lie down dead
-The Pretty Reckless, "Zombie"
Chapter 1: The Fall
Spark thundering violently against its chamber, the cornered seeker pressed himself further into the wall. He wished desperately for the metal to swallow him whole, wrapping itself around him to form a protective barrier nothing could penetrate—especially his leader. The cold steel of the Nemesis offered no protection from what was to come.
Twin red lights flared with malevolence in the all-encompassing darkness, causing his insides to tremble in fear. He should have been accustomed to his lord's temper by now. The ruthless tyrant had kicked him around for centuries for his treachery, beating him senseless or forcefully fragging the rebellion out of his system. Why, out of all this time, did he now feel raw fear?
"You have betrayed me for the last time…" the warlord rumbled from somewhere in the darkness, voice echoing out of every corner of the room. The powerful sound surrounded the seeker, trapping him even before the tyrant took one step in advance.
As much as the Air Commander loathed himself for it, he began to plead. "Master…spare me! I can still be of service—"
"Enough. Groveling will not prevent me from extinguishing your spark," his leader growled, cutting his second short. "Permanently."
The seeker did not even have time to scream as sharp claws sank through the soft metal of his chassis and began to rip-
It felt as though someone had ripped the sky from around him, reversing the position of the earth and its atmosphere all at once. Starscream let out a pitiful groan, struggling to dislodge himself from the shards of rock stabbing into his chassis. Primus, everything hurt. Only out of pure luck and chance had he survived that fall!
The grounded seeker willed his systems to come online, limbs scrambling blindly in the dirt for purchase to stand. No matter how hard he tried, his center of balance faltered and sent him tumbling backwards onto his aft time and time again. Pain rocketed through his systems the instant he shifted a limb. Vents cycling heavily, Starscream tried to bring his optics online. He felt the familiar surge of electricity through his nerves, but only darkness awaited him.
No…
"Online," Starscream ground out weakly, "Online."
No matter how much power he directed to his optics, his vision failed him. He clawed at his face, feeling only the broken fragments where his optics had been. His spark sank in realization—Megatron had blinded him.
In a panic, the seeker quickly took inventory of his body. Only one of his arms functioned properly, the other hanging limply at his side, attached by a mere four or five wires. His legs faced a similar situation, one attached with the other absent. His chassis remained intact despite a small amount of dents and scrapes. When his one good hand roamed over his backside, he flinched.
Broken, twisted metal met his touch where his wings should have been. That slagger had grounded him!
Starscream belted out a screech of rage, his form trembling with the pent-up anger he had long since stored away to maintain a façade of confidence in front of his leader. After all of his attempts to overthrow Megatron, he had finally pushed the ex-gladiator mech too far. The tyrant had beaten him senseless, but actually took it to the point of ripping off his wings and tossing him out of the Nemesis.
Who knew where the severed appendages lay? They could have been anywhere in this dusty parasite-infested rock the flesh-bags dared to call a planet! Now he lay here, blind, grounded, and helpless, like some useless eradicon frontline soldier!
"You have yet to see the last of me, Megatron," the seeker hissed aloud to no one, clawing deep ruts in the rock behind him as he sat by forcing himself up on his good leg.
In a pathetic attempt to move, he hopped forward, wrapping his arm around a nearby tree. He would need to find his leg and wings as soon as possible.
"This shouldn't be so hard…I still have working audios! I've suffered worse in Kaon, or aboard the Nemesis, at Megatron's hand!" Starscream growled.
He hopped forward again, deliberately slamming directly into another tree and crashing to the ground again. Starscream ground his denta together, beginning to panic. Accessing his intercom link, he shouted for the Nemesis to report. He still was the SIC of the Decepticon army; someone surely would answer to him.
"This is Commander Starscream; Nemesis, report!"
His intercom crackled with static, but no answer came.
"REPORT! You fools, I know you are listening! I require assistance!" Again, nothing came.
Any hope of rescue simultaneously soared and crashed. He was alone—once and for all this time. His body lay in ruin like a broken toy soldier, its parts scattered about the forest. A blind mech could survive, but limbs made it possible. Without that, Starscream stood no chance of survival. His intakes hitched in frustration, body a song of aches and pains.
He couldn't just die like this!
"Freeze, Decepti-scum."
As if things couldn't get any worse, Starscream felt the cold press of metal at the back of his helm, accompanied by a rather cold voice. A laser canon whirred to life behind him. A slow smirk worked its way across his lip components.
"It appears I am not alone after all…" the seeker mused aloud, despising himself for the tremor of fear that slivered out of his vocal processors.
"Hands where I can see them," the distinctively-femme voice hissed behind him. It belonged to none other than the Autobot Arcee—coincidentally the last Autobot closest to giving him mercy.
Just wonderful…
"Aren't you being a bit harsh, Arcee?" he purred, "I am a blind and disarmed mech, after all…"
"A wounded 'con is still a 'con," she growled back.
"What do you plan to do with me? Hm? Megatron already took care of the beating for you," Starscream sneered, "All there is left to do is take me back and patch me up. I'm sure your Prime won't mind extending a hand of…generosity…."
He did not need optics to know her blue orbs had narrowed in hatred at him, lips twisted into a snarl. She removed her laser canon for a moment from his helm, only to slam it back into the place between his shoulder blades, right where his wings had been. The seeker bucked forward onto the ground in pain, his shoulder armor sinking in defeat. He hissed in his next cycle, struggling not to emit sounds of pain in front of her.
"Bulkhead, Bumblebee, report," he heard her call into her intercom, "We have a situation. I'm 5 kliks north of your current location."
"Sending in the cavalry already? I'm sure Cliffjumper would have requested better treatment in his condition were he still at my mercy…"
Without warning, a sharp knee smashed into the side of his head, knocking him over onto his side immediately. A few more blows followed, the two-wheeler's fists raining down upon his form without relenting. When she had finished, the seeker lay in a mangled, gasping mess. Energon gushed from the wounds in his frame, his internal energy source dangerously low.
Running his mouth never brought anything favorable to his condition, but he simply could not resist. After the terrible day he had suffered, he wanted someone else to feel his pain, his utter humiliation. Perhaps then he would not feel quite so helpless as he did now.
Large footsteps shook the ground beneath them, interrupting Starscream's thoughts.
"Everything all right, Arcee? What'd you find? Dark energon? Insecticons?" the wrecker Autobot called out. A mechanical whirring followed shortly after, emitted from the small scout.
Vibrations shifted the ground, rattling Starscream's frame mercilessly. Everything ached. He cursed the wretch of a Decepticon leader under his breath for doing this to him, over and over. Once again, the seeker would have to resort to groveling and begging for his survival.
"Don't get your hopes up," Arcee said gruffly, jamming her laser weapon against Starscream's helm again.
A higher-pitched mechanical noise nearly ripped the seeker's audial receptors in half; no doubt the young scout had just noticed the amount of damage to his body.
"Primus, that's a lot of spilled energon… What do you think we should do?" the wrecker questioned. "We can't just leave him out here. The poor slagger can't even see."
"Why not, Bulkhead? You can't trust him as far as you can throw him," Arcee said.
"I could probably throw him a decent distance," the large mech commented, a smile present in his voice.
"For frag's sake, stop talking about me as if I weren't here!" Starscream growled. "A good majority of my body has been left for scrap! I can't even find my wings! How could I possibly be a threat to you?!"
"Stay out of this," the two-wheeler shot back, her laser canon whirring to life. "You'll be lucky if you manage to escape this with your head still attached."
"All I ask is for repair…just a simple repair! Don't force me to grovel in the dirt at your feet. I can't even see them," the seeker ground out, "Please…"
"Come on, Arcee," Bulkhead said in a softer tone, "Prime wouldn't want us to just ditch him out here."
Another click and whirr signaled Bumblebee's agreement. With a sigh, Arcee relented and moved her weapon back between the Decepticon's shoulder blades. Since he couldn't stand, she jerked him up by his good arm, throwing it around her shoulders with haste. "Bee, can you give me a hand?"
The scout clicked in reply, wrapping his arm around Starscream's waist for support. Pain rocketed through his body with the sharp movements, and he panted, vocal processors cutting short before he could voice his complaint. "My…wings," he gasped, consciousness fading in and out.
"Over here," Bulkhead shouted from a few dozen feet away, holding up the severed appendages, "I think I spot your leg on top of that rock over there!"
Rocks shattered and poured to the ground in a heavy rumble that nearly knocked the others off their feet. "Be careful with it, you brute!" the seeker hissed.
"You should be a little more considerate," Arcee rumbled, her voice sending dangerous vibrations through the flier. Against his will, his body began to tremble. "Not all of us are willing to knock down a mountain of rubble to rescue your precious leg."
"I'll keep that in mind," he sneered. It took nearly all of his self-control to bite back another snarky comment. Despite his slag-heap of a day, returning his body to one piece held importance over defending his dignity. With a sigh, the seeker allowed them to carry him away.
00000
Loud screeching tore Arcee from her light recharge in the med bay, causing her to stumble out of her seat and crash in an ungraceful heap on the floor below. Thankfully Jack, Miko, and Raf were still in school at this hour—Primus only knew what would happen if one of them happened to accidentally wander into the med bay at the time she fell.
Doors shifted open with a swift 'click' as Ratchet wandered into the med bay with an armful of medical equipment. His blue gaze shifted to the startled omnicon on the floor. "Did something happen, Arcee?"
"Just that scrap-head's screaming…" Arcee trailed off, rubbing her helm as she rose to her feet. "That's the fifth time in a row he's scared me out of recharge. How do you put up with it?"
"Years of experience," the medic grunted, "Teaches you to sleep like a bulkhead. Or more accurately, like Bulkhead himself-Do you mind getting the door?"
"No problem," Arcee replied, clicking the access button to the infirmary.
"Much obliged," Ratchet said, cycling out a sigh of relief as he set down the mass of equipment. "I don't blame you for sleeping in the med bay. Starscream certainly lives up to his name."
"What's wrong with him this time?" the two-wheeler asked, leaning against the adjacent wall.
"Nothing. He's recovered quite well since yesterday. It appears he's been having some nightmares from the anesthetic. It's a common side effect, especially for a 'bot who's been through what he has in recent events."
"I can understand that," Arcee commented, "But I still don't see why Optimus had to stick me on guard duty. He's perfectly safe as he is, and as unapproachable as always…"
Ratchet vented air out slowly, turning around to face her. "Listen, Arcee…Normally I'd never say this for a 'con, but maybe you should try giving him a chance. Hear me out. Optimus never does anything on a whim. When he stuck me with that impulsive fragger Wheeljack, I thought Prime had blown a circuit in his processor. After that encounter with Soundwave, I actually learned something from him. Maybe he's doing the same thing for you and that seeker."
"You have a point, but somehow I doubt I have anything of vital importance to share with Starscream."
"Just give it a try. You might be the only one of us on a relatable level with him. The 'con's been beaten, mangled, and tossed out the side of an airborne war ship. He's trapped like an insecticon in a private energon reserve. As soldiers we can all relate to what it feels like to be rendered helpless, but with your recent experiences…maybe you could, you know…relate to him in a way we can't."
"Now you're talking like you've blown out your own processor, Ratch," Arcee replied, carefully covering the catch in her vocals.
She most certainly knew what it felt like to be trapped—but no matter what she had in common with the Air Commander, nothing would make her spill her spark to the slagger who off-lined Cliffjumper in cold blood without a second thought.
"If nothing else, see it as a mission to gather intelligence. Either way, we have a maimed, emotionally volatile Seeker on our hands. Just try small talk. Something. Or you can kiss your recharge goodbye, I suppose…" Ratchet finished with a rare smirk. "Good luck."
"Thanks," Arcee sighed, facing the limp 'con's form on the medical berth. "I'm going to need it."
A/N: Review please! Critique! I love critique! Please leave your lovely commentary or critique, positive or negative, by pressing that review button below! Many thanks!
-KM
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