Title: Mistakes
Disclaimer: Still don't own Transformers.
Warning: This story contains violence, grievous bodily harm, and mentions of abuse. Also, like most of my fics, this is heavily inspired by Prime but contains strong influences from other continuities.
Starscream had made a lot of mistakes in his life. He'd had a lot of plans, good and bad, backfire. He was no stranger to things blowing up in his face or people stabbing him in the back. He was certainly no stranger to Megatron's wrath, having been on the receiving end of it more times than he could count. Of anything that had ever gone wrong for him, however, he had to admit this was the worst. (With the exceptions, of course, of the destruction of Vos, the bombing of the Youth Sectors, and the day Skywarp had nearly been offlined forever. All tragedies he had not prevented that were too great to measure.)
He'd pulled through everything that had been thrown at him in the past, always with a renewed sense of determination. This time was different. After vorns of deception and mutual betrayals, he had finally gone too far. That invisible line had been crossed. Megatron had torn into him with a brutal-ness that had always been held back before. He meant to kill. Not with that first attack, no, that would have been too merciful for Megatron's taste. He meant for Starscream to just barely survive, once, twice, until he grew bored and let his once proud second in command bleed out on the floor of a prison cell.
Starscream felt rage, burning hot, churning inside him. Or maybe that was just the energon and fluid leaking inside his frame, boiling from the heat. His cooling systems were down, he was barely functioning; his entire frame burned from how hard he was pushing himself. He knew his own limits, knew he had surpassed them long ago, but he kept going. That had always been his greatest strength, as much as it was his weakness. He just didn't know when to quit. Unfortunately, pushing one's limits had consequences, and he didn't know how much longer he could stay in the air.
He eyed the scenery below him, trying to guess how far from the Nemesis he'd flown. His systems were far too mangled to keep track of time, and he'd been flying in a blind, painful haze since he'd slipped away from the drones guarding the cells. His optics flickered on and off, and warnings flashed across his vision. He could barely make out the ground beneath him, but he caught glimpses of green and trees, a mountain standing tall before him. Surely that meant he'd flown a good distance from the barren desert where the Decepticons and Autobots hid? It would have to be far enough.
He descended, trying to avoid the trees and the buildings, and the side of the mountain. The town below him was small and spread out, the trees weren't dense, but it was still the most difficult landing he'd ever attempted. Really, all he could do was point in the general direction of relatively clear land, slow down as much as he could, and pray to Primus he survived.
Starscream's first thought when he hit the ground was: frag, I'm dead. For one horrifying klick everything went blank. He couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't feel. Then the pain came rushing back and he realized he had to be alive, because not even the pit could be so painful. Groaning in agony, Starscream lifted his helm and was vaguely aware that he was now in his bipedal mode. The landing must've jarred his T-cog. With what little strength he could muster, Starscream crawled out of the trench he'd carved into the ground and drug himself to a tree large enough for him to slump against.
He coughed, spewing dirt and energon. Pit, he was in a sorry state. He wished his trine mates were here, longed for his brothers with an intensity he hadn't felt since he'd drug the three of them into this damned war. Starscream knew they'd come if he opened up his side of the bond, and that's why he had to keep himself shut off from them. He didn't want them to feel the full weight of his suffering. And if they came for him, they'd be traitors, and Megatron would delight in destroying the only thing left in the world Starscream loved. He couldn't do that to them. If he offlined, they would suffer, but they would still have each other. They'd still go on.
Starscream stared down at his chassis, or what was left of it. Megatron's claws had made quick work of his lightweight metal, leaving only his spark chamber intact. Everything else was twisted or torn, leaking and sparking. If he offlined? Who was he kidding, he didn't stand a chance on his own. Maybe he should just accept his fate. Maybe he just wasn't meant to lead, or live. Maybe he should just give in. Starscream lifted shaking servos and reached into his chassis, struggling to plug or reconnect his severed tubes. Miraculously, he managed to stop a leak or two before the warmth and feeling drained from his servos and he finally let them fall uselessly to his sides.
Starscream had made a lot of mistakes in his life. He was starting to think the biggest was following Megatron, and he was finally going to pay for that mistake with his life.
This was painful to write. Also I swear I'm working on Twists & Turns its just Starscream was demanding to be written. I can't deny my favorite Seeker.