Uhh…ya. Just a quick and crappy little drabble-thing that's s'posed to be Starscream considering how he went from brainwashed-loyal in Energon, to treacherous again by the time Cybertron started. And I'll admit… I've seen very little of Energon, so most of what I know of it is just from reading summaries or spoilers, so please please forgive me if there's some noticeable inconsistencies. (Not to mention the whole series of Cybertron is inconsistent with Armada and Energon. Didn't both Megatron and Starscream fly into the sun or something at the end of Energon? So don't ask me how the crap both of 'em are alive for Cybertron…)
…Shutting up now, commence with the fic!
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Déjà Vu
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Pre-Cybertron: Starscream reflects on the last ten years and how he has changed. (One-shot. Starscream's POV)
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Ten years.
Little more than a few seconds in the life of a being that lives millions of years, but that's all the time there's been since my "resurrection." Such a short amount of time, and yet so much has changed since then.
I remember how strange and utterly terrifying it was when I first reactivated and couldn't remember a single thing about myself or where I was from, not even my name. I remembered basic, core facts – information about Autobots and Decepticons, Cybertron, even Primus and Unicron – but none of it meant anything to me. I knew Autobots and Decepticons fought each other, but couldn't figure out why; I knew Cybertron was my home, yet felt no affection for it; I knew Primus and Unicron were almighty, but didn't care what the difference between them were. Directly after my reawakening, someone could have just as easily told me I was a Cybertronian toaster rather than a seeker and I wouldn't have thought twice about it.
But that was the main problem – I was so utterly lost and empty that I was blindly willing to follow anybody who could possibly tell me who the krell I was. And yet, everyone seemed to know before even I did.
Starscream, Starscream, Starscream – that's what everyone called me before I even knew it was my name. For so many years, I couldn't stand to be referred to by that name, since it was the name of someone else, someone I never knew, a name that didn't seem to fit me at all. It implied something ambitious, grand, or illustrious – everything I wasn't. I was loyal and unquestioning servant of Megatron. Period. Pathetic, really.
But oh, how that changed. At first, I threw myself wholeheartedly to Megatron in my loyalty, since the Decepticon leader said that he knew me before, that I was his loyal subordinate in the past – didn't I remember? – he would cruelly taunt. He was the key to my past that I lacked and felt so empty without, so I accepted his lies as truth. That I, Starscream – as I grudgingly accepted calling myself – was Megatron's loyal subordinate, as it had always been, or so he said. I had no reason to question it. Megatron said it was true, so that of course that made it so, right?
Wrong.
Ten years ago, I would have said yes with complete conviction. I also probably would have killed anyone who would have tried to tell me otherwise. I was a subordinate to Megatron and that was all – it was the very definition of who I was. Without Megatron, I was nothing. I told this myself again and again, trying to convince myself of its truth.
But it was only later that I slowly, slowly, began to realize that I was nothing with Megatron.
I would have done anything initially to escape from the treacherous thoughts that swirled inside of me that seemed like they were coming from another person, a person from a past life I never knew. But I couldn't escape them because they were a part of me – from a past forgotten, but one that was nonetheless still there and fighting for dominance. It's a terrible sensation, to be afraid of one's own thoughts and what they hold, but I was and it was tearing me apart.
It was slight though, at first. Foreign emotions would rise up in me – the wish to contradict Megatron, even just to spite him, or the want simply to become something more than a meaningless lackey. But like waking up from a dream, as soon as the idea struck, it was just as soon gone, and the more I tried to remember what it was and where it came from, the foggier the idea would become until I couldn't remember at all.
At least, at first I couldn't remember them. But don't misunderstand – I've never gotten my memory back, and doubt I ever will, since it's probably now no more than erased data never to be recovered. But there are some things that just can't be erased or overwritten, since they're simply a core piece of my being, my function – even if it might have just lain dormant for a time. This whole process of going from deeply loyal to treacherous gave me a deep sense of déjà vu, and yet at the same time seemed so terrifyingly foreign.
So even though I tried to banish the damning thoughts away, the "attacks" – as I'd come to call them in my mind – only happened more and more frequently, until I couldn't stand to ignore them any longer, else my personality completely rip itself into two.
So, I didn't. I gave in, and I changed. I wanted to be more than a pawn to be used and thrown away at Megatron's whim, and didn't want my existence to simply be defined as Megatron's loyal subordinate – suddenly, I realized, I wanted to lead, if only it would fill the mass emptiness inside my spark that I felt since my rebirth.
Though as radical as the changes inwardly of me have been, little has changed outwardly – I still appear to be the same faithful and subservient Starscream as I've always been for the last ten years, loyal soldier to Megatron. Oh, I'm sure Master Megatron has noticed some changes in my behavior, since where as I used to obey commands without so much as a word of protest, I still steadfastly follow orders, yet will also add to or revise his plans, though still with the appearance of total loyalty. The fact that I am showing more independent thought should be a warning sign my Leader, but the tyrant is too caught up in his own plotting to notice or even care.
Little does he realize that I'm actually just biding away my time until I can strike. I keep up the face of loyalty, help him with his plans, and assist him in battle, all just so when I finally see my chance to usurp his power, the strike will come hard and unexpected – but the day will soon come when I shall rule, and Megatron will bow before me.
In the privacy of my own quarters, I laugh.
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