His optics grew redder every day, a testimony to the fall he'd made since that day.
He wouldn't eat. An Energon cube would be slid through the slot in his door, only to be tossed in the pile. The liquid would then decompose to a dull, grey dust. Eventually, the yellow scout stopped bringing nourishment. He must've known that the Seeker had ceased to eat. He was now horribly emaciated, and yet somehow still online.
He wouldn't sleep. Every time he closed his optics, he would see Energon, a gunmetal grey helm, two crimson optics that seemed to sneer at him. Every time he lied down in his berth he would hear screams, the unsheathing of a blade, and the shattering of chestplates. Every time he saw darkness, he would smell death, a smoking cannon, Energon seeping out of fresh lacerations.
Not to mention the terrible nightmares that stalked him when those images didn't. Mostly it played out in the same way it had in reality. The same terrible, cruel way. Sometimes their positions were switched. Sometimes they were in a human forest, being stalked by Airachnid.
But the most disturbing of nightmares was when he killed her.
He could feel her spark on the ends of his claws in those ones. He could feel her body go limp around his arm, her helm tip back and touch his shoulder plating. And he would like it. He would enjoy ending the life of the one who probably carried his sparkling.
His sparkling.
A wave of nausea crept over him, and he purged what little Energon was in his gastrointestinal system onto the floor.
He hadn't at all thought about sparking her that night. The possibility of not only failing to save her, but his sparkling….he remembered the hymn he had sung that day. Unam procreeo sult namn xonen. He had no idea what it meant. With ancient Seeker, nobody did. It was a dead language.
He sung it again, hoping that his sparkling received it, just like its mother.
He remembered that he was not alone in his grievance. Granted nobody was taking it quite like he was, but the humans…
When he'd brought her body in from the battle, the tiny one had cried softly into the raven-haired female's shoulder, coolant trailing her face as well. The younger female had punched his pede mercilessly until her hands bled. The two older males hung their heads.
This led to now. Six weeks from then.
His wings ached for flight. For the entirety of his time at Omega One, he hadn't left this room. His wings had begun to hurt on day three. Now every time something touched them, they would feel as though they were being ripped off.
He would not suffer anymore.
The large window opposite him was broken with a quick trust of his claws upon its glass surface. One shard looked large enough to get the job done. Stretching his arm behind him, he began sawing through one of his primary wings. Several minutes later, it fell to the ground with a sickening crack. After one joor, all four of them were severed from him. As was his Seekerhood.
'I have been a fool.'
'Made naught but mistakes.'
'But I now recognize my place in this universe.'
'Who I am.'
'And who I always was.'
'Starscream: pariah, martyr, and failure.'
The loss of so much Energon caused the Seeker to tumble to the ground, and see nothing but black.