Title: Reboot – Angry Yelling
Author: akisawana
Disclaimer: Standard
Characters: Aerialbots and Seekers
Continuity: G1 cartoon/IDW fusion AU
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language.
Summary: Everyone's been turned human. So Seekers and Aerialbots are looking for jobs in Detroit. Trust me, that's hilarious.

Note the first: Twenty-seven percent, roughly, of this fic is autobiographical, including the dishwasher, the WoW job interview, and every single time Fireflight crashes a car.
Note the second: Posting hot for Christmas. If you see any errors, please drop me a line. Happy holiday-of-your-choice, and may we all last through the next winter/summer!

Is this angry yelling or busted hearing air yelling? - Zoidberg

"Silverbolt?" Hot Spot picked up the phone on the second ring. "Who's hurt?"

"Hot Spot. Hot Spot. It's terrible." After so long, Silverbolt knew when something was bothering Hot Spot in three words or less, knew when to press for details and when to back off, to let Hot Spot come in his own time. "I'm stuck in Detroit with the Lions."

Over the line, Hot Spot sighed. "Please don't scare me like that, 'Bolt."

"But it's the Lions," Silverbolt repeated, knowing he was whining and not really caring.

"They're a professional football team, right? You're not talking about real lions?"

"I don't know," Silverbolt said. He wasn't going to think about how much easier it was to talk to Hot Spot now than his own team, how much he always depended on Superion. "They call themselves football players, but the facts do not support their claim."

"You're going to have to explain that to me. Pretend I'm Sludge."

"The Lions, they've sucked for years and years and years. Generations," Silverbolt started, feeling along the thread of just why the Lions bothered him so much. "But Detroit loves them. No matter what a player does, or how bad a game goes, or a whole season, people still wear their logo and fill the stadium and hope that next time, things will be better."

"You've never thought humans made any sense," Hot Spot reminded him. "Did you call me to whine about football?"

"Sort of," Silverbolt half-lied. "Has Defensor said anything to you lately?"

"No, I don't think he could if he wanted to." Hot Spot said. "What does that have to do with the Lions?"

"Whenever I'm watching the game, I get the feeling Superion wants me to pay attention."

"Silverbolt, I've seen you pay so much attention to a football game you didn't notice you were on fire."

"That was only because Ratchet gave me the good stuff, and it wasn't even a very big fire." Silverbolt had thought it was a gestalt-thing, but he was starting to think maybe it was a jet-thing after all, more like reading the messages in the wind than trusting a brother's whims. And, now that he said it out loud, it did sound a little ridiculous, that of all the messages Superion could have passed along, something about football? "There's something about the Lions logo everyone wears around here that Superion thinks is important, and I don't get it at all." Ridiculous as it sounded, there had to be something there, Silverbolt realized. If that was the most important thing to Superion, well, their sixth wasn't given to the same flights of fancy the other four were.

"That is your greatest problem? What about your tinfoils across the hall, have they shared the secret of the extra wingmate?"

"All we've managed to learn so far is that Thundercracker can't work the dishwasher," Silverbolt said. "Not helpful."

"First Aid got mugged," Hot Spot blurted. "Kinda, he gave his wallet right over and the kid ran."

"That's still pretty scary," Silverbolt said, because that's what he would want to hear. His own pump skipped a beat, and First Aid was only half a brother; Hot Spot must have nearly stalled out. "But he's okay?"

"Of course he's okay," Hot Spot snapped, the apologized instantly. "Sorry. He's fine, I would have commed you if he wasn't."

Silverbolt winced, where Hot Spot couldn't see it. How many people had told him that as long as First Aid was okay, it didn't matter that he almost wasn't?

"Is Skydive okay?" Hot Spot asked, and that confused Silverbolt. Surely it was First Aid that had Hot Spot so upset? "First Aid said he burned himself trying to pull the pan out of the oven while it was on fire. Bare-handed."

"That's not exactly what happened," Silverbolt said. "Well, it's exactly what happened, but he didn't get as far as touching the pan, he brushed up against the rack and realized he forgot the hot mitt first. Fireflight put out the fire -it was, and I quote, "totally lame and not worth Hot Spot's time." An hour later Skydive's self-repair kicked in and we forgot all about it."

"Groove's missing again."

"Oh." And just because Silverbolt could talk to Hot Spot easier than his brothers these days didn't mean he knew what to say to that.

"He's...answering his phone at least. I think he'd come back if I asked him to, but there's no privacy here, and too much, if you know what I mean?" Silverbolt knew. Silverbolt knew very well what Hot Spot meant. But none of the Aerialbots ever felt the need for solitude the way Groove did. "I think he needs this. But I'm not sure, and it's been three days."

Silverbolt didn't know what to say. As much as he complained about not leaving his brothers unsupervised, as much as the Aerialbots fought among themselves, as much as Silverbolt suspected, privately, that the Protectobots just might be closer, he couldn't fathom not seeing one of his brothers for that long. Skydive held the record at sixteen hours of radio silence. Three days barely seemed physically possible. "It sucks, I bet," Silverbolt said, lamely.

"Sucks exhaust," Hot Spot agreed. "It would be wrong to ask him to come back, though."

"No, not if you need him." Silverbolt knew this part, at least, and apparently he really had called to talk to Hot Spot about the Lions, about remembering to take care of themselves as well as their brothers. "Pick your battles, and when it matters he'll pull it together."

"Rules one and two?" Hot Spot asked.

"Yes," Silverbolt said. "And four."

Starscream was pleasantly surprised to find he could acquire comm. units -phones- like the Aerialbots had with a minimum of cash up front. There would be a monthly bill to contend with, yes, but once Skywarp had some sort of computer-printed paycheck, it would be easy enough for Starscream to tweak his pay rate a little -not too much, they couldn't afford being caught, but if he was paid by the klik it would be worth the risk. And it had been a while, but Starscream hadn't forgotten how to run his wingmates on a tight budget.

He seemed to recall starting a war over the tightness of their budget once.

Well, that and other things, but trying to make two and two add up to five was uncomfortably familiar to Starscream. They were right back where they started, scraping by in a dead city, when once the Decepticons had ruled the galaxy. And Megatron had thrown it all away. For what? The chance to kill a third Prime? They should have left, found a planet with no sentient life to ping Autobot empathy subroutines. It wasn't even as if they'd have to go very far if Megatron had insisted on his Prime-hunt. The gas giant, the one that had almost been Sol's binary, had several promising moons. If Megatron had let Starscream take his wingmates for just that far! But no, Megatron didn't trust Starscream out of his sight for that long, even if stupidly-loyal Skywarp tagged along to do the heavy lifting, and so they were stuck here, while Shockwave embarrassed scientists everywhere with his untested, unexplained weapons. "Hit the button and see what happens," was not appropriate scientific process, and if Shockwave had ever darkened the door of the Science Academy, he would have known that.
And then Starscream wouldn't be sitting in the back of a car -Primus below, a grounded transport for he who had ruled Vos? -and one held together by rust and prayer at that. Starscream wouldn't be waiting for his idiot wingmate to emerge from that store, hopefully with a job. And if that wasn't a sign of how desperate they were, that suddenly they were depending on Skywarp to stay employed? Truly, they had hit absolute nadir.

"Is it really that bad?" Thundercracker asked, not looking up from the phone he was poking at.

Starscream hadn't realized he'd been speaking aloud. "Don't worry, I'll take care of it," he said, because that had ever reassured Thundercracker in the last six or seven or eleven glorious millenia of the chaos that was their lives. He looked out the window, but there was no sign of Skywarp's ridiculous hat. "I'm sure you can find a job on your own. I trust your judgment."

Thundercracker handed the phone to Starscream. "The numbers are all programmed in. You ought to be able to figure out the rest on your own."

"It can't be that difficult," Starscream said, not wanting to burden Thundercracker with the details. Thundercracker would worry, and Starscream had other things for his wingmate to do than brood, things that would help the situation. "You managed it, after all."

"Well, if you have any trouble, feel free to ask the short one."

Starscream could imagine several possible results of asking angry little Slingshot for help with his phone. Some of them were amusing."They have Skyfire's number," he said. "Get it for me."

Thundercracker grunted. "Right, they'd be happy to hand that out."

"Fireflight would."

"Are we talking about the same Fireflight? Because the mini-Skywarp is Air Raid."

"Fireflight. The big one with the staring problem." Starscream paused, but let himself be sidetracked. "Why do you think I meant Air Raid?"

"Because both of them are missing the entire common-sense function packet." Thundercracker shrugged. "Fireflight's missing it too, I think, but I doubt he's got the same defective humor chip required to hand a fellow Autobot's" -Thundercracker made the word sound more like a curse than normal- "comm. frequency over."

"He'll give it to you. Have you seen the way he looks at you?"

"Fireflight has been watching us since the day he came online." Thundercracker shrugged. "I've gotten used to it."

Starscream raised an eyebrow. "The last time I saw someone giving you that look, you didn't come home for three days. He'll give you the number if you ask."

Thundercracker looked like he was going to argue, and Starscream felt battle systems he didn't have click on. "If I ask him," Thundercracker growled.

"You will get me that number." Starscream said, fingers twitching. He should have asked Skywarp to get it. Skywarp always rose to Starscream's expectations. "I won't tell you a third time."

"That was really weird," Skywarp said, opening the car door. Starscream repressed a flinch. Without proximity sensors, Skywarp had snuck up on them without even meaning to, a dangerous thing if the teleporter knew he could do that. "Nothing like Air Raid said the first one would be, more like the second." He looked between the two of them. "They just wanted to know about my level eighty-five paladin."

"You have a level eighty-five paladin." Starscream repeated. "How did you get through eighty-five levels of paladin?"

Skywarp shrugged and slid in the back behind Starscream. "Monitor duty is unimaginably boring."

Starscream shook his head. "I know that expecting you to pay attention to the monitors is asking too much. How did you get through eighty-five levels of heroically championing a noble cause?"

"What's that got to do with paladining? I just hit stuff. They had me sign a bunch of papers, and I start Tuesday. So I have a job and neither of you do, how did that happen?"

"I hacked the computer to say you'd already been hired."

"Thought we were going straight, that was the point of this employment farce," Thundercracker tapped the second phone against Skywarp's knee. "Why don't you just get his number for yourself while you're at it?"

"We are not getting caught by Soundwave," Starscream said. "Apply for a job that will explain our income somewhere with computerized employment records and then I will get you hired. Soundwave's not going to think you two would manage to stay employed."

"Soundwave would catch you just looking at phone numbers?"

Starscream closed his eyes and wished Thundercracker could still survive falling off a bridge.

"C'mon, let's go get breakfast," Skywarp said, surprising Starscream since that was the first time he'd suggested eating.

"Dinner," Thundercracker corrected automatically, pulling out of the parking lot. "If you're going to be around people for eight hours at a time, you need to be more careful."

Skywarp kicked off the shoes borrowed from Air Raid and swung his feet up across the seat. "I am the master at blending. You're all uptight. Seriously, I just spent twenty minutes talking about a video game and nobody caught on that I am secretly one of their giant alien overlords. It was...incredibly lame." Starscream heard the thunk of his head against the window as Skywarp fell silent. Skywarp wasn't nearly as okay as he was pretending. Neither was Thundercracker. The walls of their temporary accommodations were thin. Starscream wanted to do something about it, under the guise of operational efficiency, but right now it suited his plans much better for them to be falling apart. And Starscream never let his feelings get in the way of his plans.

They stopped for pizza, because it was cheap, and Skywarp was safely out of the car before Thundercracker started in again. "I just don't understand why you would even want to talk to him."

"The things you do understand would fit on the head of a pin," Starscream said, "with plenty of room for the dancing angels."

Obscure local metaphors didn't distract Thundercracker anymore, a pity. "No, really. What did he ever do to you to deserve this?"

"What did he ever do to you that you hate him so?"

"What did who do to what?" Skywarp asked, returning with a pizza far quicker than they expected.

"You know damn well what he did," Thundercracker said, throwing the car in reverse with more force than strictly necessary. "You were there."

"TC here seems to think that Skyfire has offered him deadly insult," Starscream said, conveniently ignoring the fact that was true -Skyfire hadn't known, after all, what it meant to accuse a Decepticon of disloyalty, maybe didn't even understand what sort of mech Thundercracker would have to be before abandoning his wingmates. Skyfire still wasn't accustomed to the reality of war, and Starscream didn't know if the Autobots were held together by the same web of friendships and fear and favors owed the Decepticons were. Noble as they were, the Autobots didn't seem to like each other very much half the time.

"Oh," Skywarp said. "What does Skyfire matter, though? He's gone over, who cares what he does?"

"Starscream, apparently."

"Wait, you want his number?" Skywarp accused.

"I don't need to explain myself to you two," Starscream reminded them.

"No, I think after last time, we at least deserve an explanation."

"I fail to see how it's any of your business!"

"What you don't fail at, Starscream, could fit on the head of a pin, with plenty of room for the dancing angels."

"Hey, TC," Skywarp broke in. "You think you could maybe pay some attention to the road and not, you know, kill us all?"

Dying not being on anyone's agenda for the day, they sat in uncomfortable silence until they arrived. The elevator was out, again, which just meant Thundercracker's bitching got to echo in the stairwell. Such a great word, bitching, that so accurately described the itching desire to shove him down the staircase and break his fragging -what were their cockpits now, fragile and painful? Testaments? Starscream tried to tune him out, but being more on the supply side, he didn't have quite the stamina to put up with such juvenile whining. One would have thought Skyfire had murdered Thundercracker's turbopuppy. Finally, in front of the door, Starscream snapped, "With all the gear-grinding you're doing, you could have got the damn thing five times over by now!"

"You don't need it, you don't need him," Thundercracker continued, "and if you ask me, you shouldn't be talking to him at all."

"Then it's a good thing nobody cares what you think." Starscream set down the pizza box -when had Skywarp handed it to him? Where had Skywarp disappeared off to? "Since you make such wise choices. Really, you're so good at your little self-appointed guarding. So absolutely slagging wonderful at keeping Skywarp from getting shot."

And from there, it was every fight they'd ever had in the last six million years, until Starscream just threw things at Thundercracker's head until the older Seeker retreated in a screech of engines, though metaphorical this time. And now he couldn't break all the lights on his way out.

Starscream smashed the glass bulbs anyways.

Air Raid was most emphatically not jealous. Sure, Fireflight was on his third day in a row of brushing out Silverbolt's damp hair, but that didn't mean Air Raid was jealous. Slightly suspicious of Skydive's shower schedule, but not jealous of Fireflight in the least bit. Besides, Fireflight needed the practice with braiding.

Skydive was working on another schedule, this one for the car. Slingshot was supposed to be filling out job applications, but after, like, two, he'd pleaded a headache and colonized Skydive's legs for a pillow. "Hey," Air Raid said, poking Slingshot's foot. "Hey, faker." Slingshot ignored him, again. All this happy clappy hippy dippy getting along stuff went against the natural order of the universe. "Hey, your mother wears army boots."

"That would be your mother too," Slingshot mumbled into Skydive's knee. "What does that even mean?"

"It means...I don't know what it means, you're stupid?" Air Raid wondered, mostly because that would probably get a reaction from Slingshot and life would be that much less boring.

Without lifting his head, without looking, Slingshot picked up his empty beer can and chucked it at Air Raid's head.

"Guys," Silverbolt said, his eyes half-closed, "don't fight."

"He started it," Slingshot whined.

"I'm ending it," Silverbolt said in his best Hot Spot voice. It wasn't very good.

Air Raid got to his feet and wandered over to the kitchen, intending to make a sandwich. He was debating between the leftover pizza and something called a cactus fruit when Fireflight said, "do you guys hear that?"

Sometimes, Fireflight heard things no-one else did. This was not one of those times. The entire building, possibly the entire state, could hear Thundercracker questioning Starscream's competence with regards to operating a cell phone, the shaky foundations on which his mental health rested, and the increasingly desperate status of his recent sexual activities.

"I don't even know what half of those words mean," Skydive said.

"I feel like I should be taking notes," Slingshot added.

Fireflight finished braiding Silverbolt's hair and patted his shoulder. "All done," he chirped, like they weren't witnessing a homicide. Was it still witnessing if you only heard it?

Silverbolt just shook his head. "At least I don't have to try to break that up," he said, mostly to himself.

Starscream shrieked something about Skywarp getting shot, and Air Raid almost missed the knock on the door. He opened it -Starscream had some real dramatic flailing going on there, Slingshot ought to be taking notes on that- and Skywarp held up a cell phone.

"Hey," he said. "Can you show me how to do the thing with the music?"

Air Raid looked at Silverbolt, who had the look on his face he got when he was wondering what somebody, usually Air Raid himself, was thinking. Silverbolt nodded, and Air Raid stepped back, inviting the Seeker in. "Fireflight's the one that does it, though," he said, "so you'll have to ask him."

Skywarp grinned and came in, plopping on the couch in between Fireflight and Slingshot's feet. He didn't seem to mind that his wingmates were, as far as Air Raid could tell, reciting every grievance from the last million years or so. Or he was hiding it really, really well. "I don't mind," Fireflight said. "Skydive, can I see the computer?"

"Sure," Skydive said, holding it out. "I think I have the schedule worked out, if you can remember to pick up Silverbolt after your interview."

"I'll remember," Fireflight said. "What songs do you want to play?"

"I dunno," Skywarp said, fiddling with the phone Fireflight had left on the couch. "You pick. Something good for Starscream."

"You know what is totally Starscream's song?" Air Raid said, trying to see what Skywarp was doing without making it obvious. "What's her name. Gaynor. The one about not dying."

Fireflight giggled, and Silverbolt sighed. Air Raid hoped it was the fond sigh of "I have a stick jammed too far up my aft to laugh properly," they didn't hear enough. "Please don't get Skywarp killed," Silverbolt said.

Air Raid didn't disagree, necessarily, but he suspected Skywarp had an ulterior motive somewhere. Across the hall, somebody said something about a waste of perfectly good stasis cuffs, and Skywarp looked straight at Air Raid. The Aerialbot would ask Fireflight what that meant later.

Skydive smiled and said, "Well, if it's what plays when Starscream sends him a message or calls, then Starscream won't be there to hear the song, so he can't get mad, right?"

"What song is it?" Skywarp asked. Fireflight played it for him.

"Wow," Skywarp said when it was done. "That is just, wow. Perfect." He grinned. "You have no idea how perfect. I have to play this for him. Don't worry," he said, as something across the hall audibly shattered, "I won't tell him where I got it." He shook his head, still grinning. "Can you pick one out for TC, too?"

"That's harder," Air Raid said, sitting on Slingshot's legs and thinking.

"What the hell are they up to?" Slingshot asked, trying to kick Air Raid off. Air Raid was slightly distracted by the sudden, inspired look on Fireflight's face.

Skywarp shrugged. "Minor disagreement. You should see it when they're really fighting. It's best watched from orbit. Jupiter's orbit."

"So how long before they knock it off?" Slingshot demanded. Skywarp shrugged again.

Fireflight handed the Seeker his phone back as they all pretended they couldn't hear the abridged list of Starscream's war crimes. "There you go," Fireflight smiled at Skywarp. Air Raid attempted to telegraph to Silverbolt that this was a bad thing, to be giving that very specific smile to a guy who couldn't look Fireflight in the eye. Silverbolt just looked confused. "I hope you like the song I picked for him."

There was one final crash, sounding like it hit the Aerialbots' door itself, and Skywarp stood up far too casually to not be on purpose in the silence that followed. "I should go make sure neither of them struck out," he said.

"Well," Air Raid said cheerfully. "If you need help moving bodies, come right back."

Note the end: The secret of the extra wingmate is a reference to the fact that (American) jets come in sets of two and four, not three and five. In Michigan, there are places where you can walk in and be handed a hot and ready pepperoni pizza for five bucks, which is just really super awesome. I should not have to tell you what testaments are. I am making the assumption here that Skyfire was in the ice for six million years.

Note the FF.N specific: A bit of radio silence, as I work on some side stories to this that, in accordance with the rules of this site, won't be posted here.

Thank you for reading.