Agh, sorry for the delay in updating; I've been having some medical issues that have made it hard for me to sit upright long enough to type out a chapter. Rest assured that I haven't forgotten about this story; it's been on my mind. Thanks again for the reviews and favorites!
Warnings for this chapter- slashy overtones, as usual
/: = bond talk
/ = comm
The Skywarp eating explosives mention is courtesy of Dogstar, whose Skywarp kept his explosive in the same container as his rust sticks. Hilarity ensued. :D
Starscream didn't expect the ping at his door in the least. Most of the Nemesis' crew avoided him for various reasons; it wasn't like Starscream was the best liked mech on board.
The Air Commander stopped his pacing and eyed the door, not sure if he wanted company or not. No, that was a lie; he /did/ want company. But his trine wasn't /here/. He finally allowed the door to open without really checking to see who was invading his personal space.
He stared in disbelief when he saw the entire Conehead trine at his door, heads bowed in respect.
"Winglord." Dirge said, speaking for his trine. "Might we come in?"
Starscream nodded uncertainly, confused as to why they'd come /here/. Yes, they were as loyal to him as all the Seekers onboard were, but Starscream had never been kind to them. He'd been the exact opposite at times, as a matter of fact.
Plus, they'd used the title that mattered more to him than any word that Megatron could attach to his designation.
The door closed behind them, and Starscream sat down. "Why are you even /here/?" he asked, his tone somewhere between confused and bluntly rude.
Dirge steeled himself, glancing at Ramjet and Thrust before speaking. "To...to offer you comfort in the absence of your trinemates." he said very softly, as if audials were listening everywhere. Generally speaking, there /were/, but not in Starscream's quarters. He swept the place regularly for bugs, as he didn't really need Soundwave spying on his every action, especially in his own personal space.
What Dirge offered was weakness, weakness that could well be terminal in the Decepticon army. Starscream even opened his mouth to tell him so, but the words stuck themselves firmly in his vocalizer, refusing to come out. It was weakness to be certain, but it was also traditional.
Starscream had worked so hard to maintain what traditions he could, even here.
The Coneheads watched their Winglord intently, waiting for his answer. They expected rejection, had even steeled themselves for it because of the volatile nature of their Air Commander.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
The stuff bubbled and fizzed as if it were possessed by some spirit from the Pit, and it smelled absolutely terrible. Skywarp stared at the container of solvent as it if were deadly poison.
"TeeCee, I /really/ don't want to drink that." he said faintly, feeling his tanks twist sickly.
"Neither do I, but it /is/ the most efficient way of getting rid of the buildup. Remember, Warp, organic sludge?" Thundercracker said, his wings hiked high in distress.
"Ugh." Skywarp stated flatly.
Ratchet just watched the two, torn between sighing in frustration and force-feeding the two 'Cons the solution. "I don't care if you drink it or not; I'm doing this as a favor. But don't insult my work." he said mildly.
"Couldn't you make it taste /good/?" Skywarp virtually whined.
"Sure, but that'd take half /my/ fun out of it. Medicine's supposed to taste like slag; that way, you don't get tempted to get sick again." Ratchet said with a smirk. So much for big bad Decepticons; Ratchet though that Skywarp acted more like a sparkling than a sparkless killer. Thundercracker... Ratchet wasn't sure what to make of him yet. He was quiet, almost /too/ quiet, and seemed to give his words a lot of thought before using them. That set him far, far apart from the rest of his trine, Ratchet decided.
The two Seekers looked at each other for a long moment before Thundercracker picked up the container. "Both of us at once." he told Skywarp, who nodded miserably.
They both downed the concoction, wings shivering at the horrible taste. Skywarp finished his first and cried out. "Oh Primus above me that was the most terrible thing I have /ever/ put into my mouth, up to and including the time I accidentally ate that explosive!"
Thundercracker nodded his agreement. "Not that I have ever consumed explosives, but Ratchet, that was disgusting. We appreciate it, but it was disgusting."
"You're welcome." Ratchet said with a mock-frown. He gave the two an intense look. "When will you require flight?" he asked softly. Thundercracker's head jerked up and he stared at the medic in shock.
"Why would you care?" he asked.
"Sky-hunger is a recognized condition, and I /don't/ have the patience to put up with two sky-craving Seekers, prisoners or not." Ratchet snapped.
"Always need the sky." Skywarp said. "But how could you trust us not to fly away? None of you can catch us in the air."
"I don't know that I can." Ratchet admitted. "But I'd like to think that at least one of you has honor."
"We both do." Skywarp said, optics flaring at the insult. "Just cause it's not the kind you agree with, it doesn't mean it doesn't exist!" Thundercracker bristled as well at the implied insult to Skywarp. "But slaggit, we're /prisoners of war/, and I don't even know what you guys plan on /doing/ with us; do ya blame me for thinking of escaping?" Skywarp demanded to know, his ruby optics alight with emotion. "For all I know you're gonna take us out back of the ship and deactivate us, just to send our wings back to Stars!"
Ratchet gave Skywarp an odd look at the nickname for the irascible Air Commander. "Autobots don't mistreat prisoners, or haven't you figured that out already?" Ratchet said, his own optics flashing back with just as much heat. "Megatron will probably be calling Prime to deal for you two soon enough, and then you'll be /somebot else's/ helmache!"
x-x-x-x-x-x-
Starscream wanted to tell them to get the slag out of his quarters. He didn't particularly care for any of the three, and he was pretty sure that the feeling was mutual.
If that was the case, though, why had they offered this? Starscream didn't know, and there was almost nothing he hated more than to not know a thing- it was far worse when he knew that he /couldn't/ know, not for certain.
The traditional response came from his lips before he realized what he was saying. "I accept your offer, and appreciate your sensitivity to me in my time of need." His words were just as quiet as the offer had been, and the Coneheads looked at their Winglord in shock. None of them had actually expected him to take them up on their offer, and now they weren't sure what they were going to do now that they had permission.
/:Winglord or no Winglord, I am /not/ 'facing the Screamer.:/ Ramjet said along their trine bond, and he could feel the others' sparkfelt agreement.
/:We'll just lie with him.:/ Dirge said. /:Sounds like a plan:/ added Thrust, and they turned almost as one to the lone Seeker.
"If you get on the berth-" Dirge stared to say, and Starscream immediately cut him off.
"I am /not/ going to-"
Ramjet actually interrupted their Air Commander. "Sir, it's not what you're thinking."
"Go on." Starscream said, scowling.
"We'll just lay near you." Dirge finished awkwardly, and Starscream inwardly kicked himself. Of course they wouldn't share their bond with him- that was only for /very/ close relationships, and Starscream wasn't that close with anyone but Skywarp and Thundercracker. He certainly wouldn't allow any of his subordinates access to his spark.
"Fine." Starscream hadn't recharged well since his trinemates had been captured; it was beginning to take its toll on his systems. He was willing to try just about anything at this point, and he supposed that snuggling with the Coneheads was pretty damned drastic. He lay himself in the center of the berth, which was actually three berths lashed together at the legs and covered with an extra-large berth pad. There'd be room for four, though it might get a bit cozy.
That was ultimately the point, though, and Starscream offlined his optics as Dirge, Ramjet, and Thrust settled themselves around their Winglord. If Starscream didn't think too hard, he could almost pretend that it was /his/ mates who surrounded him, that it was /their/ systems that rumbled and purred next to his own.
That was the last thought he had before he drifted off, feeling a lot better than he had just moments before.