WARNING: MINOR OOC-NESS MAY OCCUR.
...okay, I'll admit, the OOC-ness is probably going to be major. But this is just a tribute-fic, and my first fic in a long time, so who cares, really?
Disclaimer: Transformers is Hasbro's, not mine. *pout*
A single white contrail slashed violently overhead—a vivid scar, glowering against the gentle blue of the summer sky.
His chosen vehicle mode was called the Lockheed Martin/Boeing F-22 Raptor, but she couldn't have known that. It had been created for stealth and secrecy, for materializing out of the darkness and raining utter devastation upon unsuspecting foes, before melting away like the shadow of a nightmare...but she couldn't have known that. It was sleek and graceful and deadly, gleaming vibrant red and pristine white, and he could tell already that she was drawn to it—to him—even though he was sure she knew that she should stay away.
He was more, much more than met the eyes.
But she couldn't have known that.
She stood at the edge of the clearing where he had touched down only minutes ago, staring at him with eyes that were both frightened and curious. Tiny, she was, even for a human—no more than five or six stellar cycles old, according to his rapid calculations. Only a sparkling, then. No threat at all.
She moved closer to him, step by careful step, curiosity still warring with fear in her expression. Clutched tightly in her arms was a strange object made of fuzzy, caramel-colored cloth—something the humans called a "teddy bear". Young humans carried them around sometimes, he knew, when they wanted to feel safe, or when they simply needed a friend.
He found quite suddenly that he couldn't stand the sight of them. This insignificant little rodent and her toy were intruding upon this moment, his moment—one of the rare times where he could simply lie peacefully in the sunlight and forget. He could forget that he was a traitor to both sides of this war. He could forget that there was even a war at all. But he couldn't do it here. Not now. Not with this tiny human femme staring at him, eyes both frightened and curious, clutching the toy that might be her only friend in the world to her chest as though it could shield her from any harm.
It was the work of an instant to transform, shifting seamlessly from vehicle mode into his true form—wings turning up, cockpit folding down, tail splitting and swiveling out, until he stood on his own two feet, looming high over the little human. She was so small, so fragile, that he could have stepped on her and not noticed a thing. If she knew what was good for her, she would run.
She took a step back, and then another, craning her head all the way up to stare at him. Her arms tightened around the toy. Then she tilted her head to the side, meeting his glaring optics with her own curious gaze.
"Who are you?"
The words hit him like a slap to the face. He stared down at her, taken aback—the question was so innocent, and yet there was so much more in it than she knew. She hadn't asked "what are you". She'd asked "who are you".
She couldn't have known.
Slowly, he knelt down in front of her so that he could see her better—so that she could see him better. His wings twitched a little, highly conscious of the insignia branded on them. It felt so bright and gaudy on his armor, whereas the other had blended in and felt like a part of him. But her eyes slid right over it. It didn't matter to her what side he was on...
She was only a sparkling. She couldn't have known.
"My name is Starscream." He tilted his head to the side as she was doing, almost smiling dryly at the silliness of it. "Why are you out here in the forest by yourself?"
"Because I like the forest. It's pretty and quiet. And besides, I'm not alone—I have Butterskotch." She paused, then beamed brightly, holding up the bear. "That's his name. Butterskotch, with a K." Her smile faded abruptly, turning into a little frown. "Why are you out here in the forest by yourself?"
For the second time in two minutes, Starscream found himself caught completely off-guard, and without thinking answered in plain, simple truth. "I'm hiding."
Her eyes widened in curiosity. "From who?"
"From...a lot of people who don't like me." Starscream shifted uncomfortably. It wasn't exactly a lie, but the way she looked at him made him certain she knew that he wasn't being entirely truthful, either.
She tilted her head to the other side. "Well, I like you. Why don't they?"
"Because..." Starscream hesitated. Why was he even talking to her? It wasn't like she could do anything to help him. It wasn't like she mattered. She was a fragile life form, a delicate sparkling of a short-lived race that was unable to protect itself from things that wouldn't even faze most Cybertronians.
There was a depth to her, though. She was innocent and naïve, yes—but she truly wanted to understand him, even as limited as her understanding was. His spark gave an odd, heavy sort of pulse, and he offlined his optics for a moment, thinking long and hard.
"I'm not a good mech," he said slowly, onlining them again and gazing down at the girl. "I haven't been for a long time. I've done some bad things and made a lot of people very angry. Most of them want to hurt me for it." He watched her eyes widen, and turned his head away. He had defected to the Autobots and still felt like a Decepticon—and now he had gone back to the Decepticons, but he still felt like an Autobot. There was no turning back...not for him. He wasn't even sure what he was any more, or if there was anything for him to turn back to.
"Well, I think the people who want to hurt you are stupid." The girl was frowning again. "You're not bad. You would've hurt me if you were. So that means you're good, which means those other people who want to hurt you are all nasty, mean, stupid bullies!"
Starscream chuckled bitterly. If only the universe really existed in such clear, black-and-white terms. Things would be much simpler for all of them.
-STARSCREAM!-
The mech started, almost overbalancing as the voice roared into his auditory sensors. He gave his processor a good shake to unscramble his circuits, before onlining his end of the comm link, motioning at the baffled child to be silent.
"Are you trying to blow out my audials, Megatron?"
-Don't you DARE speak to me in that tone of voice, Starscream!- Megatron sounded furious—no surprises there. -Where in Primus' name are you? You're SUPPOSED to be on patrol! Report back to me immediately, or I WILL send Cyclonus to track you down—and if he find that you've been slacking off, I will send you to the scrapheap PERSONALLY!-
Starscream cringed as Megatron's end of the comm link exploded into static. He wasn't worried about the latter half of his commander's threat, but if anyone were discover what, exactly, he had been doing...
Stricken optics turned downward, to where the little human and her little bear stared confusedly at him. They would destroy everything. They would crush this innocent sparkling as if she were no more than an insect, when she had so much more to learn, so much life ahead of her. He couldn't let that happen.
He had to go back.
Her eyes were sad as he rose to his feet. "You have to leave now, don't you...?"
"Yes."
Starscream stared upward at the sky, but somehow he could still see the girl, holding that silly toy of hers close to her chest. The silence was thick and heavy around them. He knew he couldn't linger here for much longer...but for some reason he couldn't quite place, he honestly didn't want to leave.
"Are you going to come back?"
"...No."
"Oh."
Silence again.
The sensation of something against his leg made Starscream look down—and his optics widened in surprise. The girl had come even closer, and now had her arms wrapped as far as they could reach around his ankle, cheek pressed against the cool metal. "I hope everything will be okay," she said softly. "I want things to be okay for you..."
His spark ached.
Starscream pulled his foot away, backing up a pace from the sparking, and nodded. "I hope everything turns out all right for you, too, little femme." With a tiny smile, he activated his teleportation matrix and faded out—but not before catching the sparkling's last words, called out with a mixture of petulance and sadness.
"I'll find you someday..."
A single white contrail drifted erratically overhead—ragged and uneven, as though some young child had attempted to sew together the very fabric of space and time across the gentle blue of the summer sky.
Starscream's vents sputtered and screamed in protest, but he pressed doggedly on, wobbling unsteadily through the air. He couldn't stop. There was no time. The Autobots were hunting him, without rest or mercy—they had unwittingly given him the opportunity to escape the strange dimension he'd found himself trapped in, but he hadn't gotten out unscathed.
They would find him soon. He needed a place to hide.
With a final pained shriek, Starscream's right thruster gave out completely. A cry of dismay escaped him as he began to tumble, unable to control his flight or his descent. There was nothing he could do except brace for impact...an impact that came moments later as he slammed into the forest canopy, toppling nose-over-tail until he lost momentum and finally came to a screeching halt.
Everything hurt.
Slowly, painfully, the mech transformed, shedding the Earth vehicle's form for his own in order to inspect the damage done to his body. He could barely see from the cut on his faceplate leaking energon into his optics, but that didn't matter much—what he couldn't see, he could feel with his servos, and the news was not good. His cockpit was crushed, thrusters damaged, precious wings almost completely shredded, along with a hundred other wounds all over his frame. Energon had already begun to pool slowly on the grass below him. If he lost much more, then it would be over.
There was a noise from somewhere beside him, but he didn't bother turning. It had taken him far too much effort just to sit up—and even if it had been a loud enough sound to belong to an Autobot, he wasn't sure if he cared any more. Perhaps he was better off in the scrapheap than being online in a universe he had no place in.
"Your vehicle mode is called the Lockheed Martin/Boeing F-22 Raptor."
Starscream froze.
She stood at the edge of the clearing he had torn out upon his uncontrolled descent, staring at him with eyes that were both troubled and curious. Small, she was, even for a human; no more than fifteen or sixteen stellar cycles old, according to his rapid calculations. Only just grown, then. No threat at all.
"It was created for stealth and secrecy. For materializing out of the darkness and raining utter devastation upon unsuspecting foes, before melting away like the shadow of a nightmare."
She moved closer to him, step by careful step, the troubled look fading out of her eyes. It was slowly being replaced with a fierce, bright certainty that made her entire face glow. "But I couldn't have known that, could I, Starscream?"
There was a moment of vertigo, realities changing place, and suddenly the moment now was overlaid with one from a long time in the past. Back when he'd had a choice as to who he was...back when he had let that choice slip right out of his fingers. Back when all he had wanted to do was hide away and forget that there was a war, and that he was a traitor to both sides of it—and when a human sparkling with a teddy bear, only five or six stellar cycles old, had forced him to remember.
"I told you I'd find you again someday." She smiled at him, then frowned briefly, glaring at the wounds all over his battered frame. "Let me guess. The nasty, mean, stupid bullies got at you."
Starscream tried to growl angrily, but his vocalizer glitched, processing it as a low whine. "You aren't a naïve little sparkling any more, human. You know what I am." He gestured angrily at the menacing insignia on what was left of his wing.
The girl's eyes flashed uninterestedly up to the Decepticon symbol, and then back to Starscream's face. "I know. Now, seeing as how you look like you just got your aft handed to you, I think we better go get you fixed up before you bleed to d—"
Starscream snarled and unleashed a ferocious blast from his null cannons that blazed only a few feet above the girl's head, engulfing the trees behind her and incinerating them in an instant. "Leave me alone! I did you a favor, sparing your life all those stellar cycles ago—maybe I should have let Cyclonus find me, and destroy you and your stupid toy while he had the chance!" His spark pounded with sullen anger. He wanted her to scream in terror as so many humans did when he was enraged, to cry, to run away and let him go offline in peace.
She didn't run.
She walked towards him and reached up, placing a hand on his leg. "He wasn't a stupid toy," she said, in a quiet, shaky voice. "His name was Butterskotch. With a K."
She tilted her head back to meet his optics—and he was shocked to see that she was, indeed, crying. The hand resting on his leg armor was trembling as much as her voice. She was afraid. But she still didn't run.
"You're such a fool," he rasped, fists clenching. "I could kill you right now..."
"But you won't." She managed to smile a little at him, before climbing right up onto his knee, ignoring the energon coating her hands. He glared fiercely at her, but she didn't move, instead returning his glare with slowly-returning confidence. "I have a friend who has a friend who knows a thing or two about Cybertronians. If you can still teleport like you did before, then I can get you to them."
"I don't need your help, human!" Starscream hissed.
"That's a flat lie, robot!" she hissed back, slamming her fist into his knee. "If you stay alone out here, you'll die! I don't care what you do afterwards, but at least let us help you! I owe you that much!"
That made the mech pause. He stared at the girl, who was glaring back at him, suddenly fearless and bold. "You? Owe me? What could a human possibly owe to a murdering Decepticon?"
"You taught me something, even if you didn't know it. Even if it took me a couple of years to understand it." She looked at her hands for a moment, then back up into his optics. "You showed me that even if you're branded as evil, you can still choose to be good. But if you make no choice at all, you eventually become what everyone else expects you to be...whether it's what you want to be or not."
Starscream was quiet for a moment, simply looking at her. His spark gave a strangely heavy pulse—whether it was because of her or because of his wounds, he couldn't say. But that clinched it; he couldn't stay here any longer, and this human was giving him a way out.
"Fine...give me the coordinates."
The girl rattled off a string of numbers, a smile spreading across her face. "I knew you'd listen to me eventually. You might not want to admit it, but there's still some Autobot left in you yet."
Starscream's optics narrowed a little. He sat up straighter, trying not to wince at the gashes on his frame, and asked a question that hadn't occurred to him for so many stellar cycles—the same question she had asked him so long ago.
"Who are you?"
She winked at him, the smile never fading from her face. "Right now you can just call me your savior." He rolled his optics, which only made her grin widen. "Time to get your broken aft in gear, big guy. Let's get you home."