I did not expect the holidays to clog up my free writing time as much as it did, and so, I'm sorry there was no update last month. However, while I'm at it, I can wish you all a Happy New Year in 2013!
BlueInked; Aha, don't worry, this isn't a slash fic. It might get a bit sentimental, as you'll see in the next few chapters, but definitely no slash. (Of course, I am slightly bias and ship these two 'till the ends of the earth, but oh well.)
9aza; Thanks so much for your continuous reviews! You've certainly been wonderful to hear from, and all your feedback has greatly helped. :)
Four Million Years Later:
Chapter Six:
Skyfire
The alarms went off loud and clear, and Starscream grimaced as they shrieked and whined in his audials. He quickly located their sources, a mere few feet up ahead, and let his last round burn through them. The silence that followed was a blessing.
The signal spiked again in strength, finally converting itself into a precise location – what Starscream hoped to be his friend's exact whereabouts. It homed in and locked on, no longer hovering about like it had been before. Skyfire was in the building to his left.
Quickly, he crossed the runway, observing what his damage had done. The force of his jets alone had shattered every window, and he heard the sound of glass crunch under his peds. The fleshling hadn't gotten too far either; it lay broken several feet away. Face down, the protective clothing it wore hid it features. Limp, its legs were twisted and mangled. However, it was not leaking, and Starscream assumed it would live to see another day.
The hanger doors were shut, their greyed metal surfaces worn and faded. They were the only things that stood between him and his reunion with Skyfire. He felt himself shudder, and mentally steeled himself to get a grip and get moving. The threadbareness of the metal made the doors light and weak, and Starscream had no difficulty pushing them open. The emergency lights were on; shining in a dull hue, but it was the snow outside that illuminated the room. Starscream hauled himself to the middle, pain again flooding his spark like it had millions of years ago.
Nothing.
The room was empty, devoid of life. Glass from the broken windows, scattered documents, papers littered the floor, a few overturned, dust-covered shelving units and desks, but that was all. That was it. The signal remained stuck, unmoving. This was it.
Unconsciously, he realized he'd fallen to his knees. The signal was a ruse, a fake. It was a glitch, an old stream of unpurged data popping up in his systems after all these years. That was all.
A whine escaped past his lips before he could stop it. Primus, why? Why couldn't things have gone right for once? All he'd wanted was someone to talk to, someone who would listen to him for once, someone who actually cared. Skyfire had been his chance to relive the past, a time before the war he could hardly remember, barely feel. Skyfire had been his chance at a possible redemption, a way perhaps, to escape the war once and for all. Now all that was gone, and he felt the hollowness return.
Starscream drew himself up, taking one last look around. He expected someone would show up eventually – the Autobots' human friend with the military connections would have probably already contacted them by now. He didn't have time to mourn anew.
He turned to leave, only for his ped to get caught in something. Irritated, he tried kicking it aside, only causing him to stumble further. Stupid human contraption. He twisted to get a better look, when it finally caught his eye; a small, steel handle, welded firmly to the floor underneath him. Unhooking his ped from its grasp, he crouched to get a better view. Yes, a handle indeed, not a mere piece of rubble or leftover mess. Something in his mind clicked, and he checked the signal again, finding it as steady as it had been before. In a glee, he grinned; Skyfire was underground.
Hastily, he felt the floor for an edge, some sort of seam. His talons outlined the area in seconds, and he took a step back, ripping the trap door right off its hinges. A crudely built shaft welled deep under the ice, steel supporting the entrance and sides. Even with the lights plastered onto the sides, he could hardly see its end. Lowering himself in, Starscream realized it would be a close fit – the fleshlings obviously hadn't been expecting house guests of his size as actual responsive company. He folded his wings tight against his back, and then plunged down deep into the dark.
Whichever fleshling had decided to build an entire base underneath the ice, was a complete moron. It was colder down here than it was outside. However, these were organics he was talking about; he truly didn't expect any less from them. While they hadn't constructed the entrance with the utmost care or attention, the rest of their hideaway was state of the art, almost like something he'd expected when he'd first arrived.
The humans had obviously heard the earlier warning bells, even from this far underground, as there were none for him to greet. He kept this in mind – it meant there had to be another exit, a more convenient one at that.
The signal was a painful, throbbing wreck by the time he reached the next set of doors, only adding more to Starscream's anxiety. This was it. This had to be it.
The doors were locked.
He slipped his talons into their seams, struggling to pull them apart. Starscream realized this is where his lack of brute strength came into play. He managed to get them an inch apart before their gears stuck in place, refusing to budge any further.
Letting out a cry of frustration, Starscream took a step back. From the feel alone, the doors had to be at least six feet thick, and not made from the flimsy metal the humans normally used either. They were large as well, far taller than he was. A secret underground bunker, on a remote military base, one he might add, that suggested complete desertion, along with Cybertronian sized doors? The humans had had Skyfire for a long time. They'd been the ones to unearth and unthaw him. They'd built all this around him as he'd been excavated, kept his presence a secret all this time.
Starscream contemplated how many other Cybertronians – dead or alive – the humans had found. How many others had become study specimens for the fleshlings? He wondered, what would Prime think, when he learned that his precious organics had been deceiving him?
Starscream knew blasting down the doors would be problematic; firstly, his lack of missiles meant less firepower – meaning it would take longer to destroy them. He didn't have that kind of time, and he lacked the mean to but any more. Secondly, he worried that the reaction would set off more alarms and defences, or worse; block his access from Skyfire entirely. All he needed was enough space to slip through the doors, and with his frame, that was little to no space at all.
With a quick check of the walls, Starscream found the control panel and disabled it with a shot from his null rays. Immediately, he heard the gears unlock from within. Resuming his previous struggle, Starscream managed to hold a large enough gap, again folding down his wings to fit. He made a break for it, slipping through just as the doors slammed in front of his faceplates. Checking his frame over for damage, he sighed in relief. He would never, ever, do that again.
The locator beacon finally shut itself off, and Starscream turned, spark soaring. Then, it plummeted as his optics widened at the sight before him.
It was indeed a laboratory, full of equipment and electronic screens. There, strapped down to a slab in the middle, was the familiar white shuttle. There was a sickening grey twinge to the usual bright colour. Blue fluorescent tubes sprang from the offline frame, hooked to different machines all around. They were draining him, slowly draining him of what precious energon still remained in his systems after all these years.
Starscream rushed forward, finding the commands to shut down and reverse the process. Slowly, the grey hue vanished, and the while of Skyfire's frame shone brighter than the snow outside, the red accents vividly alive. They'd taken more energon before, he realized, as the screens read out the shuttle's condition – Skyfire's systems were running on less than twenty percent of energon. The results he'd gotten were only temporarily cosmetic.
Removing the unnecessary tubes from his friend, Starscream checked the frame over for any other damage. Other that a damaged thruster – something Skyfire's internal systems could fix once he was refuelled properly – Starscream was surprised at what little damage the crash had caused. The years encased in the ice had done the most; stiff and locked joints from the frost and lack of use – something movement and a little grease wouldn't fix. The humans may have added to it if he hadn't found Skyfire when he did.
His limited medical knowledge told him Skyfire wouldn't wake up with only twenty percent in his tanks, and he emptied the tools from his subspace. He was suddenly glad he'd chosen the refuel earlier, as Skyfire would need over thirty percent of his energon to function properly once again. Starscream plunged the energon infuser into a fuel line, rationalizing to himself that it was a perfectly safe procedure as he watched the device steal the energon from his systems. He steadied himself against the slab, suddenly feeling the overwhelming loss of energy. Dizzily, he retracted the device and moved to initiate the transfer, firing it into one of Skyfire's neck cables. He had half a tank left – Skyfire a little less than half now.
He waited for a change, movement, anything. Leaning over, Starscream gently eased Skyfire's helm into his hands, searching the shuttle's silver faceplates for a flutter, a twitch. He almost mentally scoffed at himself. What was he expecting? Skyfire to open those blue optics of his, and smile for him as if nothing had changed? Oh hey, Starscream. Sorry I've been basically dead for a few centuries, but everything's completely fine now.
Why wasn't he waking up?
Skyfire's systems weren't registering any ill turn ups or complications. Starscream could hear the gentle hum of those systems, the sound of his vents from every intake. Why wasn't he waking up?
Mustering some will, he slapped Skyfire across the face, then, harder again when he received no reactions. Nothing. Starscream screeched in anguish, and then looked to the other device he'd brought. He knew little of the Cortical Psychic Patch, only what he'd seen from Shockwave's use of it on the Autobot femme. It was used to enter someone's mind, for whatever purpose they wished.
He looked back down to his friend, the silver faceplates still wearing the appearance of slumber. Scowling, he reached over and grabbed it. It was riveted, the end grooved and patterned. He gently pushed Skyfire's head to the side, and the end of the device neatly clicked into the back of his helm. Cautiously, he felt his own for the same – yes, there they were on the back as well; the small indents the device was perfectly designed to attach to. Starscream leaned over, hesitating momentarily, before clicking it into place. The world suddenly reeled and shifted, then, the darkness consumed him whole.
Something dragged his subconscious mind awake, and Starscream mentally peered around. He'd done it; he could feel the borders of Skyfire's mind hovering around him. He pressed forward, only for his intrusion to be halted by firewalls. In Skyfire's weakened state, he could push past them with ease, like a virus infecting his system.
Feeling nothing, Starscream continued, only stopping when he sensed emotions other than his own. Now he was getting somewhere. Darting forward, other images struck him, fragments of memory and thoughts. The further he went the stronger they grew, until it was suddenly overwhelming.
Everything turned on a dime, as Skyfire's conscious mind finally broke free from its sluggish haze. He mentally shrunk back as it flowed past him, watching as it grew in size and pushed him out of range. It encircled him, and he tried desperately to pull himself back to reality. As the vision faded, the heard the whisper of recognition from all around: Starscream?
Starscream forced his optics to reboot, once, then twice in a daze. His spark pounded in his audials, and he felt as if he were to purge. Sometime during the process he'd fallen to the floor, and he ripped the device from the back of his helm with a grimace. The moan from the slab was what pulled him back to the present, caused him to spring up.
Starscream quickly unhooked the device from the back of Skyfire's helm, earning another moan in response. Again, he took Skyfire's helm into his hands and waited, watching as a frown tugged on his friend's faceplates. His optics finally fluttered, then onlined, rebooting in a haze. Skyfire groaned, and Starscream's spark stilled.
"…Starscream?"
When he didn't respond, Skyfire slowly made a move to sit up. It finally enacted Starscream into a frenzy of emotions, and for once in a long time, happiness overcame him. Before he could push his emotions back down into place, he flung himself upon his friend, burying his face into his neck.
Skyfire froze. "Star –? What –?"
"Shut up." The muffled response stopped him from saying another word, "You're alive! You're alive, you're alright!"
Skyfire silenced himself in confusion, allowing the moment to sink in.
"Of course I'm alright."
The rumble of Skyfire's voice calmed him. He could see the hidden exhaustion in those blue depths, but Skyfire's gentle self still remained within them. Then, realization sparked.
"Oh, Primus –! The storm –!"
Skyfire shifted him from the embrace, lowering him to his peds. Holding him at a length, his optics worriedly searched his frame.
"You're not hurt, are you? Oh, please, tell me you're not hurt – are all your systems properly functioning? Did the temperatures freeze your thrusters or vents? Oh Primus, did we crash –? Are your wings alright, can you fly?"
Skyfire tentatively reached out for a wind, delicately and meticulously checking for dents or wounds. Starscream allowed it. After all this time, Skyfire hadn't changed one single bit; worrying for other when he himself needed help. Starscream's tanks suddenly felt empty, a hollowness inside. He'd have to tell him the truth eventually, but not now. Not right now.
"Skyfire, Skyfire, it's alright. I'm fine."
"But the storm! How –?"
Starscream shook his head. "I can't explain right now, Skyfire, but I will later. Right now, it's important that we get out of here as quick as we possibly can. Can you walk?"
Skyfire looked down to his feet. "I – I believe I can."
Unsteadily, Skyfire rose to his peds, his joints still stiff from lack of use. Starscream helped him to the best of his ability, but the size difference was a bother. After so much time apart, Starscream had almost forgotten just how tall Skyfire was; he was at least a few heads taller than both Prime and Megatron, but unlike them, his frame was sleeker, meant for flight instead of raw brute strength.
Suddenly, Skyfire's wings perked, his head turning to the entrance. Starscream followed his line of sight, optics widening when he realized the earlier pounding had not been his spark in his audials.
The doors twisted and shuddered, as something on the other side tried to punch through. The pounding was enough to shake them apart, and he steadied Skyfire before he could sway. Somehow, a subconscious instinct clicked into place, and he defiantly positioned himself in front of his friend.
The metal shrieked before exploding, dust clouding their vision and stinging their optics. Immediately, he heard the heavy footfall of peds, the whine of a charging cannon. It was only when the dust settled, that the hulking grey frame of the threat finally came into view; the fusion cannon at his side, alight and sparking, glowing purple with energy. The silver faceplates were twisted into a jagged sneer of satisfaction.
Megatron.
11SnowLeopard11; Aha, how did you like that cliffhanger?
I'm a horrible, horrible person, and I'm well aware of that fact.
I enjoy it, really.
I've based Skyfire's Prime design off of the Classics Voyager 2007 toy - one I proudly own, by the way. It was the easiest thing I could do, really.
Excuse my lack of knowledge for the Cortical Psychic Patch paragraph; I'm only aware of the basics of how it works, and truthfully, I don't think it's ever been fully explained.
Anyways, stay tuned until next time! Reviews are always wonderful.