What's up? How're you? Hope you're ok!
Zsocca: haha! Glad to know you liked the previous chapter! Yes, I really hated how IDW portrayed Elita; fortunately, they also used the whole 'Shadowplay' scheme in the MTMTE comics, giving me the perfect way to fix that issue. Sorry that she won't be appearing in this story, though; after all, this is for our two favorite jets, not for Optimus... Speaking of which, I'm really happy that you liked the Bee-Screamer scene!
XinterestingX: I know the previous chapter had pointed in a different direction, but I liked this one better. That way, Starscream is now forced to be bodyguard of Windblade for a month; which means more awkward situations for him! ^^
Coira94: here you go :)
Warning: English isn't my mother language, so there might be some grammar mistakes. The whole EMP-thing came out of the comic Rage of the Dinobots; with a slight touch of Transformers Prime's MECH... After all, those guys were hunting down the bots with similar devices.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Transformers franchise, nor its characters. It is a registered trademark of Hasbro.
Six days in, and no incidents; other than nearly doze off during incredibly boring and long speeches or dinners, or other protocol stuff of the sort, there was nothing to report. Starscream was actually starting to think that this may actually be the easiest job he ever got… Save for some minor details, such as he having to cover Windblade all the fragging time when they were in public, because some humans would throw stones, rotten fruit or anything they could reach, to her; but nothing too serious. In fact, and much to Starscream's plans dismay, given the nature of his mission, his relationship with the delegate was as it was before his sudden retreat. A part of his head was still repeating that she was better off without him, but he couldn't bring himself to cut off all ties with her again… After all, and even though he hated to admit it, the femme was one of his friends ―the other one being Bumblebee, much to his own annoyance.
And that was how he ended lying on a stretcher, unconscious, the seventh day…
The cycle before, the two Cybertronian leaders were parading, following a human committee towards different historic points alongside the city they were in; they, followed closely by Starscream, were in vehicular-mode, much to the Seeker's irritation.
"I still don't understand how, being a jet, you manage to be so slow…" He grumbled, following the Camien, while trying to keep his need for speeding up on check.
"I'm not slow!" The femme complained, slightly offended by the accusation.
"Oh, really? Then explain me how is it that the clouds are moving faster than us."
"Well, there's a lot of wind this morning." She mocked him, earning another growl, which led her to chuckle.
"You find me amusing, Cityspeaker?" He challenged, nearly snarling.
"Woah, someone's grumpy today…"
She could say that again. All he wanted was to fast-forward things and be done with this, so he could go back to his room and finish his recharge… Last night they had to endure a four hours-length dinner, only to be later presented with a dance performance. By the time Starscream was allowed to hit the pillow, the alarm was already about to go off again; and, today, they had a long and tight schedule too, including a speech from Windblade and Optimus. And, if he knew that red and blue mech, it would take him forever to be done with it… So, yes. He was grumpy for sleep deprivation, and for having being force to cut short his refueling.
The rotten tomato that found its way to his cockpit didn't improve his current mood.
"Ugh… Humans…" The Seeker growled, right before a rock crashed against one of his sides with a loud clang that called the femme's attention.
Before he could scoff and answer, his scanners detected an item growing closer to their position, something that was transmitting a pulse. "Oh, frag!" Realizing what it was, the Seeker quickly maneuvered to cover the femme, and attempted to intercept the incoming projectile with one of his blasters, but he miscalculated, and the object went active before he could shoot it…
It was an EMP.
The blast fried his systems, and knocked him out on the spot. The last thing he remembered before complete shutdown was the voice of Windblade screaming his name; then… Nothing. Until that morning when his processor rebooted, and he came to, being greeted by a headache that was threatening with splitting his brain in half. "Must have fallen on my head…" thought the Seeker, groaning and massaging his helm. He also tried to open his eyes, but the light worsened the pain, so he desisted and attempted to sit up instead. His everything was sore.
"Starscream!" A feminine voice called, in both joy and worry; one he knew from memory.
Making an effort, he cracked one optic open and watched the red and black figure standing at the small room's entrance. Even though he couldn't focus his sight just yet, there was no doubt that it was the Camien, most likely checking on him. The former Decepticon made his best to look fine and to seem uninterested in whatever happened; so, finally sitting up, and sliding his legs off the berth, he rubbed his optics.
"How long was I out?" questioned the Seeker.
"Three days" answered the femme, as she walked up to her friend and bodyguard, relieved of seeing him conscious again. "You hit the ground pretty hard; the medics had to repair your armor and wings." She informed, scanning him all over to make sure there were no other injuries, but he seemed to be fine ―pissed, but fine.
"Did you catch the culprit?" Starscream asked next, finally able to open both his eyes and locking gazes with his charge.
She limited to shake her head and cross her arms. As far as Windblade was capable to tell, Soundwave was yet tracking down the responsible without much success. The cameras were jammed and some of the recording was deleted, reason why the former communications chief and the Prime believed this whole thing was done by SKYWATCH ―name that made Starscream frown and growl at the memories it brought back. The Camien, meanwhile kept talking about the events he missed during his stasis, which included the rest of the tour, a bunch of dissertations made by some human writers, and a theatrical play. According to the femme, there were no further incidents, so everything was back to normal; something to which the mech simply nodded, but didn't comment, as he moaned, massaging his helm.
Seeing this, Windblade grabbed a cube from a nearly dispenser and walked up to him, offering the fuel to the Seeker, who gleefully accepted and drank it in nearly one sip. As the liquid energy downed his throat, the former commander allowed himself to sigh in content. He wasn't aware of how much he needed the Energon, until his systems seemed to sing in joy at the presence of it. Lowering the empty cube, Starscream looked up at the, now smiling, delegate, who was happy to see him fine already, and was, also, very grateful for what he did for her… Even if he would most likely just say "It's my job, you know", or "I just don't want to deal with Ironhide afterwards", she knew he was lying…
After so long, she has learnt to see beyond his behavior; the Camien could tell he was just saving his face ―because, Primus forbid a former Decepticon commander from developing a soft side. During these few days on Earth, and thanks to his bodyguard position, they've been able to talk enough to compensate for all those radio-silent months. Yet, there was one thing she still ignored: why? Why did he disappear from her life for so long? "Right after the clinic…" thought the femme, dropping her wings in sadness, still trying to comprehend what exactly happened that day. At first, Windblade was patient, understanding that anyone would need time to readjust after surviving what he did; but, after a few deca-cycles, she started to worry. It wasn't until much later that Bumblebee told her that the Seeker asked to become a law enforcer ―thing that finally allowed her to breathe, knowing he was fine. But it didn't help the femme with her nerves of whether something that shouldn't have was done or said that afternoon.
Starscream couldn't read thoughts like Soundwave, but he knew wings' language; and droopy wings meant sad flyer. So, arching an optic-ridge, the commander cocked his head to the side and tried to think what could've triggered such an emotional response. Part of him believed it was the environment: they were, after all, back at a clinic; so chances were that it was reminding the femme of the incident with the Talisman… And everything that came afterwards. Including his premature goodbye kiss… A slight frown wormed its way to his face at the memory, as he got lost in thoughts.
Even if circumstances pushed them together now, his reasoning was still the same: without him in the picture, Windblade was free from his shadow, from his mistakes; she was free to do everything the right way, to save Cybertron just as she saved him. He was nothing but a charge, a lag, dragging her back, keeping her from reaching her true potential, just as so many have done to him. Starscream knew the feeling all too well… Back in the day, when he had everything that was needed to become one of Vos' greatest air commanders; yet, he was expelled from the Energon Seekers due to a stupid mistake, only to end up landing into the Decepticons… With Megatron. The mech suppressed a grimace of pain at the thought.
No. Not even in a trillion years would he dare to do something alike to the Camien; one of the few, if not the only, who showed to actually care for him. He cared for her too, but he couldn't show it. There were yet too many of his old enemies out there. He'll have to endure showing her the cold shoulder for a few more weeks; then, the Seeker would be free to leave her alone once more.
The mech stared at the empty cube in his hands for a second, before jumping to his feet, only to be stopped by a suddenly angered femme.
"What do you think you're doing?" She asked, stopping her companion by placing both hands on his shoulders.
"Going for another cube? My tanks are still half empty" answered the Seeker, arching an optic-ridge.
"Then ask! You're in no condition to be moving around!" stated Windblade, snatching the cube with one servo, while pushing the mech back to the slab with the other.
"I'm fine, femme! I just need some fuel!" barked the other, slapping the Camien's hand away from his chest-plates. "The dispenser is, like, ten steps away; I'm hungry, not useless!" He argued, gesturing to the stupid machine across the room.
"Get your aft on that stretcher right now-…!"
"Or what? You'll annoy me to no end?" challenged the commander, scowling and leaning in.
"You've no idea of how 'annoying' I can be, Starscream…" warned Windblade, also leaning in, frowning and jabbing her companion's chest, right above the spark-chamber.
"Trust me, at this rate, I do…"
"Am I interrupting?"
At the intromission of a third voice, both jets turned to stare at the door, where Soundwave was watching them with little interest in their quarrel. By now, he was used to their bickering. Bored of it, actually…
Seeing him, the two flyers seemed to realize about their proximity, reason why they both jerked away from each other at the same time, while Windblade pulled her hand off the Seeker's chest-plates, almost as if it burned her. Deep down, the Camien was fighting back her cooling systems, which were threatening with kicking on, thanks to her embarrassment for getting caught in such intimate position with the mech.
Trying to regain some of her dignity, she let both her arms fall graciously at her sides, before facing the former communications and security chief, asking what he needed.
"The tracking has been unsuccessful. The security feed from the area was tempered with; I'm still trying to decode it" informed the bot with the red visor. "A report of this incident has been sent to Cybertron already." He told his companions, before turning to look straight at Starscream. "Ironhide wishes a word."
The Seeker face-palmed, groaning under his breath. "Of course he does…" thought the winged mech, nodding and starting to follow the other male out of the room. Unsurprisingly, Windblade apologized for the trouble she caused him, to which the commander simply hummed to show he heard; however, he preferred not to say anything. He had to save strength for the veteran… No doubt he was going to be yelled at for this. Not that he actually cared, no; it was more of a bother for him, to be scolded like an infant. After all, Ironhide was loud, but he was no Megatron.
After a while of walking in complete silence through a large hallway, Soundwave stopped and opened a door for the Seeker, who, understanding the silent command, nodded and got in. The door closed behind his back, while he found himself face to face with a large screen transmitting a videoconference from Ironhide, who was frowning with his arms crossed over his oversized chest-plates. Starscream made his best to put a poker face expression and took the call.
«So, still alive, huh? » questioned the veteran, stating the obvious with a smirk.
"Sorry to disappoint…" retorted the jet, rolling his optics.
«Disappointed? You kidding? I'm impressed you took the hit for 'Blade! » The Autobot remarked with a laugh.
"Wasn't that my job? To keep her safe?" Starscream shot back, crossing his arms and frowning. "Consider it a taste of my professionalism, and let it go."
Ironhide simply smirked and arched an optic-ridge. 'Professionalism' his aft. He knew ―everyone knew― that Starscream's MO was to never do something, unless he could gain something out of it; and saving the Camien didn't give him anything other than lying on a beth, knocked out for days. No matter what excuse he may want to give, Starscream would never jump in front of an EMP for anyone. Not even his former trine. "And there's only one thing that's more important than a trine, at least for a Seeker…" were the red mech's thoughts as he started to realize why this guy tried to reject this job. He had to admit, it was funny to see the former 'Con so out of his element. That alone was worth the call; alas, it wasn't for the laughs the only reason why he phoned: he was worried, since Soundwave was proven unable to find the culprit; so, he wanted the commander to be on max alert for anything, and to be ready to work side by side with Jazz, who was already on his way to their hotel. He was going to be their backup.
Starscream blinked blankly for a split second as the new information finally settled; then, he nodded with a growl and an exasperated face.
Jazz… The former third in command from the Autobots. Of course it had to be him. After all, they couldn't send Prowl; not after he went 'cuckoo' and attacked Optimus (not to mention that the Praxian was still seeing a therapist, who wanted to help him 'reconnect with his more emotional self' ―something that made, even, the law enforcer laugh for days). Truth be said, the Seeker would've preferred the white and black patrol over the Polihexian any day, even if he was damaged. He couldn't imagine himself working side by side with the always relaxed and joyful Special Ops.
Nonetheless, he didn't have much of a choice, so Starscream limited himself to nod and acknowledge the news.
Shortly after the call ended, he was sent back to a consulting room to be checked over by a medic who finally let him go back to the hotel, next to Windblade. He used this chance to transform and fly, even if it wasn't recommended for him just yet. His wings were cramped after so long of being squeezed under his weight, without exercise; so he ignored the delegate's disapproving shouts.
"We really should've taken the transport…" kept muttering the femme, as she flew behind him.
"Not a chance." The mech bit back.
The red jet nudged closer to the other one, curiosity taking the best of her.
"What's wrong with public transportation?" She asked, without an answer. After a few more seconds of stubborn silence, the femme started getting a suspicion: "Did you ever took the public transport?"
More silence.
A laugh was starting to bubble within the Camien, feeling like there was something embarrassing there, reason why Starscream refused to talk about it.
"Have you?" She kept pressing.
"Oh! Alright! I did once, ok?!" He finally admitted.
"Why so shy about it? There's nothing embarrassing in-…"
"Because I was a stupid trainee back then! My classmates and I sneaked out one night to go to a bar, two cities away, but I crashed against a reinforced glass at Lucentica, totaling one of my rotors! I took the rail-line to a clinic, in hopes I could get a quick patch-up job and go back to base before my superiors noticed I was gone!" He growled a bit. "And I had to tell the medic how exactly I got my injury. I was lucky nobody called my trainers… Plus my so-called 'buddies' never noticed I went missing, until they actually reached the bar…"
Windblade chortled out, imagining the whole sequence. Knowing the Seeker, the idea of taking the train instead of flying must've been pure torture for him… Not to mention shameful. No wonder he hated the idea of taking the transport so much.
Meanwhile, Starscream was fighting back his cooling systems, which were already online. He knew this would be her reaction… It was the same reaction his old buddies had, back when he was a cadet and had to explain why he ditched them halfway. The laughs lasted vorns, until another idiot made a stupid mistake, and his became old story. The moment it was forgotten, he swore not to speak about it again; but, for some reason, it was easy to talk with Windblade…
No. He couldn't think that way.
By the time they arrived, Jazz was, unsurprisingly, already waiting for them in the company of Optimus, catching up with his former leader. Apparently, they were speaking about how Elita turned out to be the red and blue mech's lost sparkmate, Ariel, since the Polihexian was saying something like "Ah'm glad yah two found each other after so long", right before they noticed the incoming jets and turned to receive them.
"Screamer!" greeted the white short mech, grinning and waving a hand. "Glad tah see yer flyin' already! Heard what happened from 'Wave…" He added, getting serious and crossing his arms. Then he scanned the jet from head to toe as he landed and transformed in front of him and the Prime. Grinning again, the Polihexian added: "Heard 'bout the makeover too. Lookin' good, Screamer!" He approved with two thumbs up.
The Seeker allowed himself to sigh and avert his narrowed his optics in slight annoyance.
"If you're done checking me out, can we go back to the task at hand?" He asked, locking eyes with the joyful Autobot. "We still don't have a clue as of who did this, so it could've been SKYWATCH just as it could've been some rogue 'Con; and, to make things worse, we have to escort these two knuckleheads to a meeting in thirty minutes" stated the Seeker, frowning, and pointing toward the Camien next to him on the last part.
"Hey!" windblade complained, not really approving the last comment.
Optimus didn't care much about being called that… He has been called worse by Ironhide when the red mech used to be his bodyguard.
Jazz, on the other hand, laughed out loud. Once his chortles fell to a normal volume, the white mech allowed himself to nod, as he took a few steps away from the crew, saying that he still had to talk with Soundwave to retrieve the schedule for the rest of the two leaders' stay. The others allowed him to go without another word. After all, Jazz had worked in security detail before, meaning he must know what he was doing…
Starscream, on the other hand, decided to go back to his room and wash away all traces from his stay at the clinic. However, he was promptly stopped by the Camien femme, who claimed to be in need: in two days, she and Optimus would've to speak in public in a press conference that was going to be broadcasted all over the planet; so, she wanted to make sure her speech was perfect.
The Seeker arched a cautious and questioning eyebrow at this petition.
"Shouldn't you ask Prime, instead?" He wondered, glancing at the tall mech standing a few steps away from them. "I mean, he's the one who will be accompanying you during the speech." The Seeker added, shrugging one shoulder.
"I know, and he already lend me a hand ―since he has more experience with the earthlings" admitted the delegate, also glancing at the red and blue bot, who, getting suspicious, preferred to leave the scene. "But I feel like it could still be improved. Plus, you were regent too, and, let's face it, you have a way with words…" She said, satisfied when he smirked on the last part.
"Comes with having being a 'Con, Cityspeaker." He gloated with a crocked smile, his ego pleased for having being stroked; his pose indicated this last thing: chin up, hands on the sides of his hip.
Windblade rolled her optics and crossed her arms in overdramatic disapproval.
"Don't let it get into your already overinflated head." She warned with a lopsided smile, arching an eyebrow and cocking her hip. "I simply want you to listen while I read my speech, and to give me your opinion; nothing else."
The Seeker sighed overdramatically too, while turning away in order to leave.
"If I must…" He ended up agreeing, much to Windblade's joy.
And, so, he was now sitting on a chair, watching over the Camien, while she paced around her room practicing what she was supposed to say to the humans. He tended to interrupt sporadically, just to let her know whenever she was talking too fast, too low, or was repeating something she already said; also, he took his chances to make an opinion, stating that she should remark some sections more than others, stressing its importance. Also, in a point, the Seeker pretty much corrected her posture, saying that dropped wings were for defeated jets ―he actually went all drill sergeant there, telling her to square her shoulders, put out her chest, rise her chin and her wings, and to lock gazes with the audience. For a slight moment, Windblade saw the old military Starscream instead of the current one…
After two hours, he found the results to be more than satisfactory. In fact, he was impressed… Never thought the Camien was such a great orator, even though he had heard her before, during the debates back on Cybertron. Which made him even more curious as of why the femme was so adamant about wanting to hear his opinion in the matter, leading to constant queries about the subject.
Finally, after fifteen or so questions, she confessed: she didn't just want to have him editing her speech… She wanted an audience which she could see its full physical response to her words; and, unlike Optimus who was too polite with everyone, he didn't have anything against being straightforward when criticizing others. So, of course, she thought that to have him there, staring and piping up his opinions would be helpful… In more ways than one…
"After all, the truth is that I-… I actually hate talking in public" admitted the femme, going to take sit at the other end of the table.
It took the mech a whole second to realize what she just said.
"What the-…? But you already-…!"
"The debate, back on Cybertron, was nerve-wrecking! I never spoke to an entire planet before ―regardless of the little population! I had to make a mental image of myself talking to Metroplex in order to pull through that experience!"
The mech scoffed and leaned toward the table between them, averting his eyes.
"Then you're on the wrong businesses, sister; 'cause you'll have to give millions of public speeches, for almost everything." He stated, left arm over the table and chin on his palm, a slight smirk adorning his lips.
Across the table, Windblade dropped her head on the furniture, groaning. She knew this already, but didn't care because she felt that becoming First Delegate and speaking for all (colonists and Cybertronians equally) was the right thing to do. Nonetheless, now that the waters calmed and she was left with all the political mayhem to be taken care of, she was having second thoughts…
"But, if it helps, I guess you could pretend you're talking to me…" Starscream suddenly offered, trying not to sound too worried nor too interested.
At this, the femme chuckled and peeled her forehead from the table to dedicate him a smile. That gesture alone was enough to make the cerulean jet realize the implications of what he just said.
"Or Metroplex. Whoever keeps you calmer works." He quickly tried to add, leaning into the back rest and looking away from his companion.
"Thanks again." She said, still smiling, making him look at her again. "For… Well, for everything you've done so far" added with a slight shrug.
"Yeah, well… Keep being this clumsy, and I'll start taking count of how many favors you owe me by now." He joked with a teasing smile, making the femme chuckle; though he almost missed it, since he was yet surprised by his own words and behavior.
Where did that come from? He wasn't supposed to jester around her; he was trying to put some distance between them, not to pull her closer! He couldn't understand why it was so difficult to push her away, considering that he had mastered the art of making sure everyone leaves him alone. Sure, it wasn't a happy position to be in, but it worked for him…
Then why did he always end up returning to her? Why does it feel so natural?
Bumblebee's words came back at his processor, questioning if he, by any chance-…
No. There were no feelings involved. And there would never be; he would make sure of it.
Unnoticed to him, Windblade was examining his face during his little inner conflict. She was able to see the pain in his optics, as his mind seemed to sway between two options. The femme would never say it in front of him because she knew the Seeker took pride in knowing himself unpredictable, but, to tell the truth, he was easy to read; or, maybe, it was just her. After all, having being in each other's head a couple time, most certainly helped. Eventually, she simply cleared her throat to call his attention once again.
Starscream snapped out of his musings, visibly, as he rose his eyes to look at her, optic-ridges arched.
Windblade simply dedicated him a curious smile and a pair of hopeful optics, trying to encourage him to speak up his mind; but all she got was the mech looking away, fast.
"I'm sorry, it seems I sidetracked…" He apologized.
The Camien allowed herself to sigh loudly, before shaking her head, mostly for herself. After everything they endured together, she was actually expecting him to treat her in a more personal way… A part of her was wishing that they had managed to, somehow, become friends. And, for brief moments, Starscream seemed to reciprocate those thoughts; short lived instants, like just now, when he just lets himself act naturally, even retorting to her in a friendly and lighthearted way. But, then, he retreats and pushes her away immediately after, almost as if resenting to have actually talked nicely with her seconds ago. She couldn't understand it ―ok, she knew he wasn't the most centered and sane bot in the universe, but this was a whole new level.
He was hiding something. It was the only explanation. And a part of her believed that it was related to what happened between them at the clinic.
Realizing that the Seeker still refused to look at her, and that there was no point in going subtle, she simply started talking:
"You've changed." Windblade stated, plain. No effort in putting any sort of emotion in her voice while saying so.
He, on the other hand, arched an eyebrow in her way.
"Yeah, well… What else is new?" rebuked with a shrug and an acid chortle, clearly thinking she referred only to his body-frame.
"No… What I mean is-…" started saying the Camien, shaking her head and leaning over the table to place her servo over the one Starscream left lying atop the surface.
However, the moment their digits made contact, his first instinct was to immediately pull back, almost as if she had hurt him.
His reaction was enough to make both of them stare into each other's optics in both surprise and pain, not physical, but emotional. Windblade's cerulean eyes soon became too much for the Seeker, who averted his optics first, trying to collect his thoughts as he placed both his servos on his lap ―far from the femme's reach.
"Sorry. It's a reflex…" He apologized, still not looking at her. "I'm not used to physical contact… Not in the positive way, at least."
"Megatron?" She queried, alarmed.
"Everyone knows I was his favorite punching bag" commented the Seeker, smirking bitterly.
"I'm sorry."
He snorted, smirking humorlessly; the cogs in his mind, clearly spinning behind his eyes.
"Others have told me the same already, but I never believed them." He admitted. Then, frowning, deep in thought, he added: "But… I do believe you…" The Seeker, after saying that ―a statement that made the Camien's optics grew wider, clearly not expecting it―, started to rose his face, until he was staring at her again, almost as if he was surprised by some new discovery. "I think you're the first person in my life who-…" He bit his tongue before he took down a road from which he wouldn't be able to return.
"Who… What?"
Starscream was never gladder for being interrupted in a conversation, than when someone knocked at the room's door at that very instant. Almost immediately, he got up and went to check who it was, finding Soundwave who seemed a little surprised of finding him, inside of the delegate's dorm. The Seeker allowed himself to roll his optics in annoyance.
"Don't get your bolts it a twist. She needed help practicing her speech…" He explained, leaning against a wall and crossing his arms and ankles, but making enough room for the other bot to step in.
"And came to the greatest blabber of the universe. That actually makes sense" shot back the communications chief as he walked past him, looking for the Camien.
The male jet pursed his lips.
"You should be thankful I'm no longer your superior officer, or you would've winded up at the brig for that comment."
"Ever since I don't have to deal with the constant buzz of your voice in my head, I'm thankful of not being your subordinate anymore…" counterattacked Soundwave.
"Alright, boys. That's enough…"
And, Windblade, appearing in between them, stopped Starscream from starting a verbal fight with the other mech. "Sometimes I miss when he was just the silent looming mech in the corner; he was much more bearable and less sassy back then" thought the Seeker, as he watched the femme take the other bot toward the table where they were sitting minutes ago… And as Soundwave dedicated him a slight bow, behind the Camien's back, indicating that he heard his thoughts clearly. "I hate you" added the former commander, frowning, before going to close the door.
Then, as the voice of the delegate reached his audios, Starscream's mind filled the blank from their conversation: 'cares'. That's the word he was about to say… That she was the only person who ever showed to care about him. Sighing, and leaning his forehead against the closed door, he felt kind of relieved that he didn't have the chance. It was difficult enough for him to break ties with her already; if she got to know what he truly thinks about her, then he was doomed… She would never leave, and he would probably not even try to push her away. "It's for the best" He repeated for himself, closing his eyes. "Just finish your job here, and let her go. If you truly care for her, then let go…"
"Starscream!" The delegate called, making him straighten up and turning around. Right on time, since she appeared at the small entrance immediately after. "Soundwave says we need to go to that lunch with Marissa, right now. Otherwise we'll be late."
That's all for now! Hope you liked it!
See ya!