Dance above acid clouds, a transformers/beast wars fanfic

"Dance above acid clouds"

Starscream no longer felt angry. Betrayed, yes, maybe, but he got used to that feeling many thousand vorns ago. He was home now, at least, in a place he had always considered 'home', a place he could always return to. Even after the Defeat.

Still, Skyfire's words burnt their way from his audials to his spark. "Jazz's dance club opened again, haven't you heard about that?" How much he hated that mech. They used to dance here, among many other Science Academy students, earning the costs of their living, their tuition, their allowance. They were not 'Autobot' or 'Decepticon', they were two fliers who obviously sought each other's company during their Academy quartexes.

And then, when they both became scientists, the two of them kept coming back to the dance club, not for dancing anymore, but to watch the newlings dancing, and to generously support the young mechs financially.

That was long before the war.

Now Starscream was standing alone, watching the dancers from the background, preparing himself mentally for his own show. If word of him dancing here got out, there would be a lot of Cybertronians coming (from both factions) just to see him here, and gloat over the former Air Commander who was now reduced to a lonely mech of entertainment. His always-proud wings dropped at the thought. If he hadn't decided to join Megatron, the fool would have lost the war without him a lot sooner, and he could have lived a good life as a space explorer.

Maybe, without the war, he would have never found Skyfire in the ice. Which would have possibly been for the better. The xenobiologist dared redirect him back to the dance club when his former friend had asked him for a few thousand shanix, to start a civilian life.

The group of minibots were dancing a cute, hula-like dance on the stage. Behind them, Starscream could see the clients: many pairs of blue optics. So long, long ago, he would have called it a good night. He would have joked with Skyfire about the stress release this club could provide. Skyfire would have answered something like 'And yet I'm still stressed about the Modern Aerodynamics exam.' Hm. Skyfire was never very good at aerodynamics, perhaps that was why he was lost in the Earth blizzard. They should have practiced flight maneuvers and memorized the six ways of breaking in freefall situations instead of going to the dance club. But, well, they were young.

A tall mech turned around and marched to the cash register. Starscream couldn't see him at all, and he definitely couldn't hear it when the tall mech paid an extremely gallant three thousand shanix. Nor could he make out what the mech expected to get for his money, but the cash-bot didn't argue with him more than a few sentences.

It was his turn now. He didn't know what he was actually going to dance, he had no set choreography yet, he just relied on his instincts and memories, and he hoped that his improvisation skills would not betray him. He gathered the remains of his pride and walked to the center of the stage.

And then, he almost froze as the old song started playing from the background.

"When hope abandoned you, take a step back yourself
don't chase what's not yours, but take what's still there.
When trouble is rushing at you, take a step back, save yourself
Grab what is yours, take up, take up, take up into the air."

Starscream couldn't improvise for this song. He just knew it far too well. His body still remembered the choreography, although he attempted to delete it from his hard drives. He could not turn away, he had to give in, he had to spin, flip, bow mockingly to the audience, then activate his thrusters and take up into the air.

"Be there, be there, be always there,
take what is yours, dominate the air."

Back then, he loved this song, this choreography. Now he hated it, hated it for taking his will, his mind away, but especially he hated it for the memories it brought up. Because, back then, he didn't dance alone.

"Dance above acid clouds, dance where the sun definitely shines,
return from the darkness, dance where the sun infinitely shines,
ignore the pain of past, dance where the sun definitely shines,
leave everything behind, dance where the sun infinitely shines."

Starscream's body followed the rhythm, the never-forgotten choreography. It was so long since he last paid attention to the lyrics. It was usually a navigating point, to keep track of which move comes after which one. He performed the audience's favorite, the reverse Cobra: from horizontal flight, he suddenly bent down to more than vertical, then he turned horizontally again and pulled above the clients' helms. At this speed, they couldn't see his face expression. They couldn't see the pain that mirrored the torture in his spark.

For what was about to come, according to the original choreography, was Skyfire's part.

The client who had paid in advance for this song to be played, had been watching avidly, as if each note of the song, each movement of the dance, were his highgrade fuel while his tanks were empty. The memories surfaced, and the sight of Starscream performing the old choreography had only boosted his sour and bitter emotions.

He watched Starscream, the brilliant symphony of white, red and blue. He knew this frame, this flight, even if the transformation sequence was different with its many modifications for his Earth-mode. The movements were familiar, he knew (he had always known) what figure would come after which acrobatic element. If only there wasn't a war. If only Starscream chose wiser. If only they were better, both of them, if only forgiveness hadn't been impossible. His own frame was screaming at him, telling him to stand up, to transform, to take up into his element, and the more he tried to resist, the more he failed.

The Air Commander was flying upside down, and transformed when he got back to the stage. He could not see what was happening below him, there was nothing but darkness. And an overly familiar shape that rose from it, so well known to him that he didn't even notice what made the bouncer shout out "Are you serious?" when everything was in place.

Actually, they were more in place than ever in the past nine million years.

The client transformed and barrel-rolled to gain speed for the more complicated figures, then he flip-tailed with grace defying his size, his general Autobot clumsiness. Starscream took up again, and reached out for him, until they were flying in formation, following the rhythm, the song, the old choreography.

And they did.

He any Skyfire danced in the club's home-like atmosphere, once again, for the first time in nine million years. They were no longer 'Autobot' or 'Decepticon', no, not anymore. They were dancing partners. And not just that: they were friends. Friends again.