A/N: Some action in this one. You know my disclaimers, Primus knows I've said them religiously at the beginning of everything I post. I thought I'd show some other's of the Ark crew and then Megatron being beaten in battle. Thought that'd be fun.
Warnings: Some battle violence and a bit of bittersweet fluff.
Turning Point – Chapter 9
The remainder of yesterday had been a bit boring for him, but at least his cassettes had fun going round after round with Jazz as he tested out their abilities. They had a preliminary agreement that his cassettes would split their time between special ops duties and comms, although they would be performing less of comms than spec ops.
Soundwave felt himself get restless as he woke up.
There was an odd sort of itch within his processor. It wasn't something he felt at all often.
A need for violence.
Every now and then, he would need to let off some steam. Otherwise, he would usually be tempted to mentally lash out at whatever mech was nearest and prove to them just why he should be feared. He didn't like the odd, very rare urge. It was not part of a higher functioning individual and was reserved for brutes like Motormaster and Vortex. He let his chest compartment spring open, his cassettes ejecting and stretching languidly. They knew the mood he was in and they headed for the living room to receive their morning energon.
Blaster was already there, drinking his own ration as Soundwave came in.
"Recharge well?" he asked with a smile.
"Affirmative. Query: May we use weapons range?" Soundwave asked briskly, burying the memory flux from last night that still made him want to purge his tanks.
Blaster frowned a little and replied, "Well sure, but you-?"
"Affirmative," the blue mech cut off the other mech's concern, retrieving his energon from the dispenser, taking a moment to retract his mask and scull the contents before looking at his bewildered friend in expectation.
Blaster wasn't sure if he liked the burning determination in that visor. He was reminded, all of a sudden, of all the battles they had against each other. He stilled the shiver he wanted to release. In his vulnerable state, it had been so easy to forget how utterly graceful and dangerous the telepath was. Standing up, he nodded, beckoning to the visored mech and leading him to the firing range. Most of the mechs were up, but thankfully, none were in the firing range.
Looking to Soundwave, the boom box asked, "Around what level do you want the range to be set at?"
Pulling his little used rifle out of his subspace, Soundwave replied in his trademark monotone, "Medium-high."
Blaster frowned, but set it, and stepped back, watching Soundwave load the rifle with swift accuracy.
Soundwave felt the world melt away, the darkest part of him, hidden away in the furthest reaches of his spark, coming closer to the forefront with a raging hunger. He knew the trigger. His anger at his abuser. His fear for his creations tempered the urge to storm the Nemesis by himself and kill the mech, but still, he was angry for this act being done on him. Feeling the smooth barrel of the rifle and taking his stance, bringing it up, the telepath felt soothed by the action. He was in control of this, controlling what direction it went, and how many shots were fired.
He was ready, spark pulsing in anticipation for the first range drone.
It leapt out.
Soundwave tightened his finger on the trigger, hitting it with unerring accuracy, a smirk touching his lips as wave after wave of holograms and drones leapt out and he aimed and fired, relishing in the pure feeling of control. He was the master of the rifle in his hands, not someone else being the master over him.
Blaster watched, optics wide.
He really, really shouldn't have been looking at the shooting mech and thinking it was one of the hottest things he'd ever seen. The powerful stance, the easy way of firing – the subtle attractiveness of it all was enough to make him want to moan.
'No! Bad, Blast-man, bad! If you ever come on to him anytime soon, he's going to freak,' Blaster admonished himself.
Soundwave kept aiming, kept firing, until the sequence ended and he dropped the gun down towards the ground.
He didn't realise he had been crying silently until he had finished.
"New recruit: score – 687/700. Rank: Equal 3rd with Autobot Mirage," a cool, computerised voice announced from the speakers.
"Slag, 'Wave, that's awesome! You're only just behind Bluestreak, Prowl, and Mirage. Nice job," Blaster complimented encouragingly, walking nearer to the navy mech, but another frown shadowed his face. Soundwave was shaking. Looking between the blank, lost look in the visor and the dropped, smoking gun, Blaster internally sighed. The poor mech.
Soundwave cursed himself.
Crying again.
At least he could say the reason with clear certainty. A part of him died just then. The violent urge he had to decimate his opponents usually built with his shooting practice. Suddenly, in the middle of the session that he had just completed, it left. Without any warning, he had been set free. Such an event had never happened. It made him feel off balance. It made him feel…good. He didn't need the rigid control over the rifle. What he needed was the expression of that rage to chase away the violence.
It was gone.
It was a stunning realisation – he was free.
Retracting his mask, the telepath turned to Blaster and whispered, "I'm free."
The red mech was about to spout some words of comfort but halted as Soundwave made that pronouncement. A melancholy sort of smile stretched his lips as he replied, "You are. Feels amazing, doesn't it?"
Soundwave took a moment to bask in the feeling. Free. Had he ever felt truly free, even as a Decepticon? He had never been free of the uncontrollable rage that resided in a deep, wicked part of him since his youngling days? For it to suddenly disappear to be replaced by a different type of anger. An anger that he could control, not be controlled by. That was the freedom he was given. After the past few days of not feeling like he could be in control ever again, he was given this small gift of freedom.
"I feel stronger," Soundwave acknowledged in reply quietly.
The smiling mech couldn't resist, and a sound clip of Kanye West's 'Stronger' played for a few seconds. Soundwave quirked his lips up in amusement, picking up his rifle and stowing it back in subspace. He hoped he wouldn't need it anytime soon.
"Listen, since I never got to finish our ration, and I'm sure you're wanting yours, do ya terribly mind if we go to the rec? Besides, I think it'd be a good thing to test the waters a bit. Autobot's ain't gonna wanna know ya if you remain in the shadows if you get what I mean," explained Blaster. He waited patiently for the answer. He knew that he would follow Soundwave back to his quarters if the telepath said so – he wouldn't push – but also knew on the flipside that if the other mech could survive a little while in the rec room, he'd feel a lot more comfortable with the idea of becoming a fully-fledged Autobot.
Thinking it over, Soundwave had to admit that such an event was inevitable, and that he might as well start now. He inclined his helm, and replied, "You are right. Let's go, but one thing…"
Blaster heard the hesitancy and asked kindly, "Yeah, Wave?"
The visor looked dead on into blue optics as he said in a small voice, "Protect me."
"Always," affirmed the red and yellow mech, moving forward and giving his friend a momentary squeeze around the shoulders before stepping out of the shooting range and heading towards the rec-room. He turned and gave the telepath a reassuring smile. Soundwave gave a fleeting one back before closing his mask. He didn't feel comfortable going into a room with his once enemies without his mask shut firmly over his lower face.
Blaster glided up to the doors and pushed them open before walking in and waving to the mechs who greeted him. He got not even five steps into the room when his companion entered and everything stopped.
And silence reigned.
The boom box fought the urge to turn and look at Soundwave. He had to let his friend decide if he was able to handle it on his own. He merely strode forward to his usual booth – which was thankfully empty, and sat down. He kept his optics averted to his lap, although in his processor he ran an encouraging mantra again and again. He hoped no one would call or jeer.
A weight sliding in next to him made Blaster sigh in relief. His spark pulsed happily for Soundwave for the will to walk past those accusing stares. At last, he looked up and grinned at the blue ex-Con. He was sure Soundwave had sent him a small smile back by the light in his visor.
Most of the Autobots seemed to adjust quickly, Hound almost immediately going back to his conversation with Mirage and Trailbreaker, and Bumblebee happily competing with the oddly silent twins as they played a video game. Equilibrium returned to the room, halted only by the hostile aura emanating from Cliffjumper and his table of the more war-ready minibots. Blaster noted the glares and whispered, "Don't mind them, 'Wave. They've been ordered to be nice."
Soundwave wouldn't admit that he felt even more fear for his cassettes now. He was reminded that he not only had an enemy in Megatron, but from some of the more vengeful Autobots. He would have to keep an optic on all creations, not matter what the cost to him. He nodded, anyway.
Blaster, content that Soundwave was comfortable enough, got up and retrieved them cubes of energon.
Meanwhile, Prowl entered the room, calmly reading a datapad as he walked. Momentarily, he glanced up to see Soundwave sitting in Blaster's usual booth, the latter mech up and getting two cubes of energon from the dispenser. The Praxian frowned when he saw the looks Cliffjumper and some other minibots were throwing Soundwave's way. He would have to address that later. Knowing his presence would be accepted, if not welcomed, Prowl changed course and went and sat opposite Soundwave.
Soundwave straightened and stated, "Greetings, sir."
"Good morning to you as well, Soundwave. How are you feeling after our talk yesterday?" the black and white inquired, watching carefully for any contrary body language to the answer.
"Emotions: encouraged, inspired, understood," Soundwave replied, mask modulating his tone as always.
"But you still have questions?" asked Prowl, nodding to Blaster as the comm. officer sat down next to Soundwave, energon in hand.
"Affirmative, sir," answered the ex-Con. He knew what the SIC was getting at, but it meant taking off his mask here in public to ask the questions now in their secluded booth. At least Blaster was here. The solid support next to him bolstered him.
The tactician canted his helm to the side and made an encouraging noise. This was all the free time he had today, and this was its most effective use.
Blaster felt the undercurrent of wariness as his friend slowly retracted his mask. Soundwave took a second to see not one Autobot had noticed before he asked, "Prowl, after the time of you abuse, did you ever feel…dirty? Used goods…so to speak."
Prowl nodded, gleam of understanding dawning in his optics as he realised what Soundwave really wanted to know. "Yes. I felt that. Perhaps," he lowered his voice so only those in the booth could hear, "less so than you, but I can understand it. You feel as if anyone who looks at you can be infected and tainted, and you shy away from all but those you trust. You don't want anyone to touch you. And most of all, you begin to believe it about yourself," he stated.
Soundwave stared in shock.
It was a succinct summary of what he was feeling every morning. He pushed past it, but it was there. He wasn't sure of that feeling of violation would fade. Before he could stop himself, the next question he asked was, "Does that feeling ever fade?"
"Yes. With time, healing, and support," Prowl replied, nodding at Blaster who was trying to be neutral and simply listen.
Soundwave looked at his friend, the friend who had accepted him back unconditionally, and took his hand and squeezed it gratefully. He turned back to the tactician, visor flashing inquisitively.
"How did you learn to get past what happened to you?"
Prowl looked thoughtful, choosing his words carefully before he spoke. "It's not about pushing the event into the back of your processor. It's about accepting it as having happened and acknowledging that, while you cannot change the past, you can do your best to have a bright and happy future. It's horrific to have been abused. Once we move past the fact that we can't change what happened, we can heal. When we heal, we can open up to trust again and so goes the cycle of healing and trusting. If we close up, become in denial, think we are not worthy of living, then the abuser has won. If we learn to live again, we have earned our victory."
Blaster and Soundwave turned the words over and over. Soundwave saw the true wisdom in those words, and he vowed to himself to remember them when he was feeling like the lowest piece of slag in the universe.
Blaster still stayed silent, letting Soundwave have the control. He was truly content to listen to the back and forth of questions and answers.
"Is that how you healed?" Soundwave leaned forward, voice just as quiet as Prowl's had been.
"The mantra did help, but I had Jazz. He was the one to tell me that, and it was like the key to my hurt had been unlocked and I was able to finally fix from the years of abuse I suffered." Prowl quickly checked his chronometer, finding he would have to leave soon. Telling the telepath about how Jazz helped him would have to wait for another time. Standing up, he said, "Unfortunately, duty calls. However, I do have another free hour tomorrow morning, if that is what you'd like to hear about."
Soundwave did feel slightly disappointed, but couldn't say he didn't understand. Nodding, he said, "I'll take that offer. Again, you have my thanks."
"And you my understanding."
Thundercracker crossed his arms and stared stubbornly at his lover.
"No, Skywarp."
"Ooh, resorting to my full name? Desperate then," teased the black and purple Seeker, reaching out to tug at Thundercracker's crossed arms. "Besides, Prime said it'd be good for us to go out and make the crew chill around us. Remember that talk he gave us yesterday?"
"I can't remember, no," refuted the blue Seeker, although the memory of each word had been carefully saved into his databank.
Skywarp huffed and pouted, "Please? Even if we can't go out and fly yet, then let's just get out of this room! As nice at it is, I'm feeling claustrophobic. You can't deny you feel the same."
Thundercracker didn't deny it, but he had gotten too comfortable in his surroundings. For the past few days, all he had done was lie with his lover and talk. Talk about their insecurities, their fears, gone deep on a level they had never dared to go before. With their changed circumstances, they felt more secure, more certain, more able to express the so called 'weak' feelings of love. Slowly, ever so slowly, Skywarp had gotten used to the blue Seeker touching him, especially his lips, and had even gotten the courage to touch his lover back and kiss TC's face. He had not progressed to connecting their mouths, but Skywarp found that, given the rate of his recovery, he would be doing that someday soon.
"Warp…"
"Please? We can even freak out the Autobot's while we are at it!" pleaded the teleporter, batting his optics at the blue jet.
Thundercracker melted under the warm ruby gaze. Heaving a harsh sigh, he huffed "Oh all right. Let's go to the rec-room."
Skywarp grinned and warped behind his lover to hug him tightly from behind in thanks, before taking a hand and warping them out of their room…
…and straight into the middle of the Autobot's rec-room.
"What the!"
"Holy slag!"
"-give us a spark attack!"
"We almost fired…"
"Skywarp, Thundercracker, here please," Prowl called over the din of voices calling out at the two jets that had just appeared in front of them. Prowl was over by the door, obviously on his way out of the room.
Skywarp let go of his lover, teasingly brushing a wing, and strutted towards the SIC with a smirk, trinemate following with a sigh and a shake of his helm. They ignored the disgruntled grumbling coming from the bots around them and stood at attention before their new second in command.
Optic ridge raised, Prowl reprimanded, "Please don't tempt the itchy trigger fingers of some of the Autobots. I would hate Ratchet to put a wrench through your helms for that moment of idiocy especially after he has newly repaired you, as would I hate to punish you if such an incident occurs again. Skywarp, no more warping through the Ark unless an emergency, and Thundercracker, try not to go along with his schemes. Dismissed."
"Yes sir," both jet's replied, although Skywarp was still smirking.
'Why do I have a feeling that sooner or later he and Sideswipe will terrorise everyone with pranks?' the Praxian mech thought as he walked back to his office.
Turning back to the general rec-room, Skywarp said loudly, "Nice to meet you on the friendly side guys! Let me introduce myself. I'm Skywarp, teleporter extraordinaire, and this is Thundercracker, biggest sonic booms in the galaxy!"
Thundercracker facepalmed.
A great deal of the Autobots looked at each other warily, caught between laughing and a feeling of oddness. Wheeljack, being one of the more easy going Autobots, raised an arm and waved jokingly back, prompting Skywarp to walk up to the engineer with a dramatic flourish and proclaim, "Why, kind mech, you listen to the great introductions! You shall be noted and given a year full of 'no-pranks-being-performed-on-you.'
Wheeljack chuckled at the Seeker's attitude as he flounced away. Skywarp was kind of funny.
Cliffjumper, Huffer, Gears and Powerglide were glaring from their table, as was Tracks from a different section from the room. After that, the mechs in the rec-room did the same thing as they did to Soundwave; they left Thundercracker and Skywarp alone in favour of their own conversations.
Thundercracker had gone to Blaster and Soundwave's booth, sitting opposite to the two communications mechs, waiting for his wayward lover to join them.
"Is Skywarp usually like this?" Blaster asked, grinning as he watched Skywarp walk from Wheeljack to their own table.
"Yes," groaned Thundercracker, tempted to growl as Skywarp slid in next to him and tried to bury himself in Thundercracker's side.
"Skywarp: chief prankster on the Nemesis," Soundwave stated, but a hint of a smirk played around his face.
Thundercracker and Skywarp gasped as they realised that, for the first time ever, they were seeing Soundwave without his mask. Skywarp opened his mouth to yell it out, but found his mouth covered by Thundercracker's hand. He made a muffled sound in protest, but saw the telepath look uncomfortable and realised what an idiot he was going to be if he had done what he had planned to do. Instead, as the blue Seeker took away the hand, he leaned forward and said in a stage whisper, "Good to see you without a mask Soundwave. You're a looker under that mask."
Soundwave would have blushed, but merely nodded.
Blaster, however, giggled, "You shoulda seen him when he was younger! If it wasn't for the fact that Soundwave wasn't interested, he'd have at least four femmes or mechs lined up at his door!"
The ex-Con shot his friend a warning look, but decided that the comment was worth the jaw-dropped expressions on the Seeker's faces. It was really quite comical. He half-wondered if he should take a picture of it.
Blaster snickered at the expressions, before Thundercracker caught himself and sat up straight, closing his mouth and pretending that he had been unaffected.
Skywarp however, would never get that comment out of his processor.
"TC…I think I need bleach."
And for the first time in a while, all three ex-Con's all laughed quietly.
Blaster looked on with a grin. At least they were making themselves feel at home.
"Grah! Damnit Zee, not the antennas!"
"Oy, ya wanna spar or ya wanna talk?" the red and black cassette twin grumbled, ducking underneath the punch from Eject. He and his twin, and Blaster's set of cassette twins were all having a spar while their creators were in the rec-room. Soundwave's cassettes, like their creator, had gotten restless, and Blaster's had offered to get it out of their systems.
Over in the corner, Ratbat, Buzzsaw and Laserbeak all went up against Ravage, Steeljaw and Ramhorn.
They had been at it for some time. Some of the rounds they played it serious, while others it was just a fun tumble around, just a bit of roughhousing. This was one of the fun rounds.
Ravage finally got Ratbat on the ground and began to tickle his youngest sibling mercilessly. Hearing the little mech's giggles was such a rarity, and such a treasure to be held.
They had never had this freedom to act their young age back on the warship with the Decepticons. Their small stature made them ample targets enough as it was without being all cuddly with each other whenever they wanted to be, and it had been a struggle especially for Ratbat, who was far more tactile than any of Soundwave's creations. Ravage reflected that it was a good thing they'd changed factions, regardless of how odd it was, how hard it was, and how they were slowly learning to treat them differently other than 'enemy.' Because it was all worth it to see Ratbat laugh and for Rumble and Frenzy to be not as psycho.
"Pile on!" Frenzy called.
Ravage barely had a moment to widen his optics as his siblings and Blaster's creations all piled on top of him and Ratbat, most of them giggling madly at the undignified position.
Fun had been another thing that had been a rarity.
Not the satisfaction of a mission done or injuring their opposition.
But pure, joyous fun.
Ravage had a feeling that this next period of their lives was going to be full of emotional healing and more than fun to last him a lifetime.
Starscream stared at the wall in front of him.
To put it simply, his recharge had sucked. Which is why he was still in the berth in the middle of the day.
Nightmares and memories had plagued him from the moment, it seemed, since his helm hit the pillow. If it hadn't have been for Skyfire, he wouldn't got one iota of rest. The mech had stayed with him the whole night, comforting him, getting him to open up, holding him with promises of safety issuing forth from his lips.
Never had he felt so cared for.
Yet, he still felt worthless. He let the abuse happen to him. Although Skyfire kept telling him that he was strong, he couldn't see how. He had waited like a coward for the abuse to stop instead of leaving the Decepticons earlier and leaving them to flounder in his wake. His loyalty to his trine and his innate protectiveness over other fliers had prevented him. Starscream was torn. He stayed for a good reason, but still…sighing, he shuttered his optics as if to stop any more thoughts.
Footsteps signalled Skyfire's return.
He felt it as the shuttle sat behind him.
"Recharging, hmm, Star?" the soft voice asked.
The tricoloured mech was about to reply when a tender hand stroked over his helm.
"Good. You need it," Skyfire went on.
Starscream stayed silent. He thought that breaking the silence at this point would be way too awkward. Instead, he continued to pretend to sleep.
Skyfire proved to be willing to talk to the recharging figure and he leaned back against the headboard of his wide berth and murmured, "You know, I'm going to tell you something. I know you're in recharge which is why I'm saying it really. I don't think you're ready for what I am going to say. That, and I don't know if you feel the same."
Starscream wanted to frown, but kept still. What was Skyfire talking about?
"I have so many regrets, Star," the shuttle continued blithely, still stroking over the Seeker helm. "I regret not truly living my life before the war started, burying my helm in datapad after datapad in my attempt to be the best scientist. If there had been no war, perhaps I wouldn't have such a regret. Those times with you that I went exploring I don't have doubts on. I guess it's what I didn't do."
What? The ex-Con Air Commander wanted to ask. His friend wasn't making sense.
The larger mech chuckled, "And to think of all the time we'd had if I had the bolts. I think it's the longest time I've ever had a crush on someone, really. First time I really fell in love. I think it was after the expedition to that planet that was made of that really hard crystal that I was going to officially ask to court you. I went to ask you, and there you were in the lab, just looking so perfect, so youthful, so beautiful. Poised in the perfect position over the Petri dish, examining the samples with such a mask of perfect concentration. But I didn't do it. Because you looked at me with those lovely crimson optics of yours and I faltered. You were perfect – and I thought too perfect for me."
The smaller jet stiffened, but Skyfire didn't notice.
"I regret it now. Would you have left Megatron earlier if you had known I loved you? That I still love you? I regret not coming to your aid sooner. I still think that you are strong, my love, far stronger than a coward like me whose one chance at happiness may have floated away on the winds of time because of his uncertainty," Skyfire whispered to the room bitterly, a single tear falling from an optic.
He then chuckled and mentioned, as if he had forgotten an important detail, "There was always this poem I wanted to read to you. I might as well practice now."
"I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving
But this, in which there is no I or you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close," he finished softly. He seemed lost for words after reading out the poem, and with a sigh, he rose and said, "Recharge well, Star."
He left.
Only when he was sure that Skyfire had left did Starscream open his optics and cry silently.
Skyfire loved him? Loved him for all this time? Curling in towards himself, Starscream felt tears flow out more. How horribly he had treated the mech when they had met for the first time in eons. How hurt Skyfire must have felt.
Starscream didn't doubt what the shuttle had said. The tone, the sheer emotional undercurrent in those softly spoken words wormed their way into his spark. He was loved. He, screechy, whiny, backstabbing, abused Starscream, was loved.
And that poem!
It had been beautiful, pure and simple.
For the first time in a long, long time, the Seeker felt a warm glow settle over his spark, and although he was in anguish, he felt loved and cared and wanted so much it hurt. The beautiful words…Skyfire thought he was perfect just as he was, thought he was worth waiting for.
Even though Skyfire loved him, he had hidden it for his healing.
Starscream vowed that as soon as he was healed that he was going to go and tell Skyfire…
…that he loved him too.
It had been a good day in the rec-room.
Until the Decepticon klaxon rang throughout the halls of the Ark, alerting every mech that the Decepticons were coming.
Immediately, Soundwave, Thundercracker and Skywarp all froze at the sound, mechs on the Ark instantaneously leaving the rec and heading out as they were ordered by their commanders. However, a spiteful Gears called out as he left, "It's only because of those Decepticons that that Megatron's coming!"
Blaster had growled at the mini, turning to the frozen mechs and encouraging them up.
"Come on, we'll get Starscream and all go to my quarters. They're some of the safest of the Ark because I have my creations and all," the boom box explained, taking Soundwave by the arm, feeling guilty for the slight flinch, but heading with determined strides towards his quarters. The two Seekers followed, Thundercracker laying a protective hand between Skywarp's wings as they went to reassure his lover. The teleporter took a moment to shoot a smile at TC before following the two cassette players.
Skyfire caught up with them, carrying a shaking and wide-opticed Starscream.
"He's gone into shock," Skyfire called over the din of the alarm, more mechs pushing past their group on their way to the entrance of the Ark.
"Don't worry, we'll take care of him," assured Thundercracker, taking Starscream from the shuttle, who departed as they reached Blaster's quarters.
Without missing a beat, Blaster called his cassettes to him and ordered, "None of you are to open this door, at all, unless staying in this room is a threat to your lives, ok? I'll come back as soon as the battle is over. I won't be in it, Prime wants me on comms." 'And not trying to murder Megatron," Blaster added to himself.
Receiving nods, he turned to Soundwave, seeing uncertainty and fear in that crystal red visor. "You're strong enough to protect your guys if something does happen, 'kay?" he comforted, patting his friend on the shoulder before leaving and placing the door lock on the highest level of encryption.
Running back through to the comm. room, just off from the command centre, Blaster prayed, vindictively, that Megatron went away from this battle with more than a dent or two.
In Blaster's quarters, it was awkwardly quiet. Starscream was seated in between his trinemates on the large couch, clicking to them in Seeker talk as they polished him in their version of comfort.
Soundwave was in his berthroom, cassettes around him, simply letting them talk and joining in on the conversation every now and again.
Truth be told, he was more frightened that Megatron would somehow find his way here to destroy his cassettes more than anything else. He would use his telepathy, but Megatron would see that coming in such a situation and would extinguish a creation before he had the chance to. That fusion cannon was lighting quick.
To distract himself, he played some music from his older archives. He opened the folder in his memory bank with all the music that he and Blaster had loved when they were younger, and the music that they had composed. The first song to come up was the lullaby that the other cassette player had sung to him on his first night in the Ark.
"Hey, that's kinda cool, Boss. Who's that by?" Rumble asked, leaning against his twin.
"Myself and Blaster," the blue mech replied with a slight smile.
"Really? That's actually really nice for a slower song," Ratbat said.
Ravage snorted, "You should have heard some of the more ridiculous drivel they listened to at times."
"Acapella is not drivel," retorted the comm. mech.
"Sure, whatever you say. Everything sounds better with a beat," Ravage stated, opinion firmly set since the days he had lived with his creator and Blaster.
As Laserbeak asked Ravage a question in challenge, Soundwave had to admit, it did really distract him. Hopefully, the Decepticons would be defeated in no time. After all, they had neither his plans or Starscream's weapons and trine.
Skyfire circled the battlefield high above, tramping down his rage with great difficulty.
There was Megatron, smirking as he battled their Prime, with barely a scratch on him.
Then again, that may be because all three of the Decepticon gestalts had formed and so the Autobots were quite distracted from the warlord. Taking on Devastator, Bruticus and Menasor with the addition of all other Decepticons was quite a challenge.
Skyfire bided his time. This battle was not going to end without him making a mark on the grey tormentor.
At least he was glad to see that some of the Autobots in the know were fighting their damndest.
Optimus was fighting with a determination that had not been present in battle for some time. Just as Megatron had not had a scratch, neither did he.
Prowl and Jazz seemed to work seamlessly as a team. Their plans and knowledge were utilized to their best and each hit was made with accuracy. It was because of them that the all flying enemies were now tied in a bundle on the ground. The twins and Ironhide were throwing themselves into slagging as many Decepticons as they could. And Ratchet…well, if Skyfire wasn't so incensed he would have laughed. The medic was yelling a loud stream of curses as he threw spare wrenches this way and that.
As Devastator broke apart into its separate mechs, Skyfire actually did chuckle as Ratchet threw a wrench, sending it spinning through the air to land in the middle of Hook's helm, the new SIC of the Con army falling offline with a thump, a large dent in his helm from the hit.
Unfortunately, it drew the attention of Optimus, his attention distracted enough for Megatron to punch him back twenty feet away.
That was his chance.
Cutting his engines, the large flier allowed himself to freefall, waiting for the moment to cut on his thrusters so slow down just enough…
There!
He ignited his thrusters to control the last of his descent, transforming as he did so, a feral gleam in his usually calm optics as Megatron looked up and saw him.
With a crunch of metal, he landed on the warlord, sending him face planting into the dirt. Skyfire barely gave him a minute before he picked up the struggling smaller mech and landing a good, solid punch in the once smarmy faceplates. Megatron growled, but he brought the pointed face up and growled, "That was for me."
Then, with a mighty heave, he threw Megatron facedown into the dirt with such force that his face got squashed in.
"And that is for Starscream," Skyfire whispered, voice more deadly than Megatron had ever heard.
"Decepticons! RETREAT!" Megatron yelled, the sound garbled through his damaged face. He was sure he also had a fracture in one of his back struts.
Skyfire sneered at the grey mech as he scrambled and flew away. He had been so very tempted to take away the life of the Decepticon leader, but knew it would have been empty and hollow if he did. Besides, it was not his place. Feeling his leader and Prime come next to him, he was not surprised when the blue and red mech stated, "Remind me never to frag you off that badly, Skyfire."
The shuttle let out a mirthless chuckle. "No, I reserve that for the abusing sack of slag that just left."
Optimus nodded. "Let's go back to base. I'm sure Starscream will be glad to hear what you did."
Blaster saved the video of Skyfire giving Megatron a swift aft-pounding and placed it on a datapad. He had to show Starscream. It might not be the best thing for him right now, but he needed to see. He left the running of the comms centre to his cassettes and headed for his quarters, typing in his code and heading in, only to see three sets of null rays pointed at him.
"Oh, it's you Blaster," Skywarp said mildly, placing his nullrays down, like his trinemates. Soundwave and his cassettes looked out from his room and sauntered out.
"Starscream…I want you to see something, but if you feel uncomfortable with it, turn it off," the red mech instructed, handing the datapad to the tricoloured jet.
Starscream took it without a word and turned it on, watching silently as it replayed the action filled scene of Skyfire slamming Megatron into the Earth, punching him, and the spear tackling him onto the ground. He replayed it again for his trine and Soundwave. Skywarp and the cassettes cheered when they saw Megatron retreat, while Thundercracker and Soundwave merely smirked.
Starscream, however, remained calm and silent.
There was a noise at the door.
Standing there in all unassuming mechliness, some of his enemy's energon on his frame, was Skyfire.
"Starscream?" he asked carefully as an intense crimson gaze was turned on him.
Starscream stood up, walked slowly up to the mech who was looking after him with the patience of a saint and whispered quietly, "Thank you."
And jumped up to sling his arms around the larger mech's neck and hold him tight, wrapping his legs around Skyfire's waist to keep him there, embracing him for all that he was worth, inputting as much gratitude as he could. Skyfire looked stunned for a second, before holding Starscream just as close and whispering assurances and more words of comfort in his audio. The Seeker merely clutched tighter, burying his helm in a broad shoulder, not caring who saw.
Skyfire patted Starscream's wings, nodding to the mechs in Blaster's living room before leaving for his own quarters.
"Wow…" muttered Skywarp.
"You can say that again," said the blue jet.
"Wow," the black and purple jet repeated, earning him a light cuff over the helm from his lover. Farewelling the two comm. officers, they left for their own guest quarters, paying no heed to any Autobot who stared at them.
"Well…" murmured Blaster, turning to Soundwave, who merely said, "Too much excitement in one day, I think. I believe I will be recharging when you get back."
Blaster winked and replied, "Okay. I'll check on you. That all right?"
"Always."
A/N: I promise to deliver a chapter each Monday, so here it is. I hope you liked it. Please…REVIEW! I'd love to hear what you thought of that. Next Monday: Will Soundwave have another nightmare?
