Love-Hate Hysteria

I don't own Transformers. This is a Megatron x Starscream story based in Animated, sometime between Megatron Rising and the future episode 23 where Starscream is back, told from Megatron's point of view.

My fist slams against his pit-spawned face and he flies, with odd and misplaced grace, backwards and into the wall and oh, isn't it nice how his wing scrapes against it? Isn't it wonderful to see his face in pain like that?

I thought that the key would have killed him, but Starscream, my little seeker, he is just like those cockroaches that crawled around me in Sumdac's lab, those little bugs that just wouldn't die no matter how many times I tried to electrocute them.

Then there is that awful, disgusting little voice in me, gnawing at me from the darkness of my spark;

"Do you really want him to die?"

It horrifies me, and I punch the little slagger in the mouth, in a desperate attempt to shut that nasty little noise inside me up, to prove to myself that I could, would and should kill Starscream. Then I see the energon leaking down from his lips as he chokes pathetically, dazed optics glowing amber in confusion, staring up at me with his crazed and pupil-less eyes like he has so many times before. The feeling of triumph flushes over me, and my processor screams at my spark that I am Megatron, I show no mercy, that I am the most feared and powerful Decepticon in the galaxy, that I -

…can hear Starscream mewling incoherently at me. Frag. So pathetic, so disgustingly weak, so cowardly, so…endearing. That lovely little mewling noise, that tells me I have shown him which of us is the strongest, which of us is in control, that caresses and reassures my ego even after all these years. Distantly, my processor starts to scream;

"Fight it!"

I hesitate, and he sees it, he always did, and then I smash his head against the wall again, but he already saw me hesitate. He glares up at me, expressionless except for that smug glint in his eyes, and I reward him for it by throwing him to the other side of the room with all the force I have. Starscream moans in pain, so quietly I'm not sure he moaned at all, but then my CPU reminds me how good he is at hiding what hurts. I stroll up to him, casually, and he curls up like a little sparkling, shivering, fearful, and…just as adorable.

"Fight it!"

His eyes are squeezed shut, but there is a tense moment, heavy with anticipation, and we both sense my hesitation again before I slam my foot into his side. My lovely seeker isn't hiding his pain now; he's choking and cursing at me and screaming and the room is full of his static-filled cries. Beautiful, I think to myself, and for once that little voice in my spark and my processor are agreeing on something.

I cannot fight it anymore.

Leaning down, I cradle him in my arms, so small and scared now, so enticing. Gently and tenderly I rock him in my arms, with my fingers scratching and piercing the armour on his back, a perfect balance of brutality and gentleness. Such a sweet sound, that sob he coughs out against my chest, and the war inside me comes crashing down again. I am Megatron, I know no love or mercy, my processor roars. I am Megatron, and Starscream is mine, my spark counters. We've been through this so many times. I know the argument will never end, and compromise between the two…

"…I love you, and I hate you for it," I whisper into Starscream's audio sensors lovingly, stroking his cheek with the tips of my claws.

"The feeling is mutual," he grins, energon sputtering out from his mouth, dripping onto me, with each hoarse word he chokes out. With the small strength I have left him, he digs his awful talons into my back, gripping onto me like a sparkling to his creator, and he returns my embrace. His sharp fingers are uncomfortable, a dull pain in my back, but they tell me all I need to know. Starscream is mine.

And he's laughing hysterically now, or crying, or both, I cannot tell which, shuddering and trembling in my hold. The madness glows deep red in his eyes, insane and passionate, and I realize that perhaps they are reflecting my own optics. I am laughing too now, laughing at this madness Starscream and I call love, this desire to crush him and kill him and torture him and maim and punish him, or crying at this desire to hold him, to comfort him, to cure the centuries of pain, to nurse away his insanity. I cannot tell which.

I kiss him, his half processed energon smeared on my lips, and we are lost in the hysteria, together.