AN: So, am I allowed to take a quick evil laughter break after that last chapter? No?
Congratulations though, guys! If you've read this far you've made it past what I'm sort of categorising as the 'introductory' arc: Cee's in Vos, shit's been stirred up, and it's all gonna bubble over at some point. Probably quite gradually and in bits and bobs, but this is where the real fun starts. Once these two can get over the whole, y'know, he-stabbed-my-friend-and-I-watched-myself-do-it thing.
So I'll stop babbling now and let them have a stab at that (no pun intended).
Starscream soon lost track of how long he'd been waiting on the balcony. In all honesty, he wasn't sure why he'd stayed out there - after Arcee had dived off the roof, he'd sent comm. after frantic comm. and received only silence in return. It was clear she wouldn't be back any time soon.
With a heavy sigh he walked back to the wall of the tower and slid down it, fanning his wings against the cool metal as he sat.
He certainly couldn't blame her. They'd been foolish to enter into this in the first place, given their history; but in all the panic of trying to thwart Megatron neither had given the actual act of bonding much thought.
Maybe he should have seen it coming.
Starscream had to marvel at this turn of events, though - out of his millennia of misdeeds, Arcee just had to centre on that one. Perhaps it had been inevitable. Did her connection with Cliffjumper draw her towards it? The mech grimaced, and tilted his helm upwards to glare at the sky.
That dratted Autobot's death had been a point of pride, once. Back when Megatron was losing himself to the blood of Unicron and Soundwave stood by and watched - but he, Starscream, had held the ship together even before that, hadn't he? And the culmination of that had been ridding himself of one of the thorns in his side that were Optimus Prime and his team. It had felt sweet at the time, watching the life ebb out of the mech and knowing he was finally getting somewhere with removing the Autobots on Earth.
Yet here I am seeking their aid - and that one fragging incident's scuppered my plans twice.
Grimly, he wondered if Cliffjumper was laughing at him in the Well. If only he'd kept his mouth shut in that canyon.
... Perhaps he shouldn't have gloated so much, either. Having seen Vos wasting away, Cliffjumper's death didn't seem so much of a triumph now. In some ways he missed his time on Earth, when things had been simpler in that regard and he hadn't had a city to care for.
But you asked for this, didn't you? he reminded himself. Would you rather Megatron had control of Vos, just so you could go on with all that uncomplicated, immoral bullscrap? Where you went from Air Commander to grounded and desperate in a matter of months?
The answer to that was, of course, a resounding no; and Starscream knew he had to unpick this mess sooner rather than later if he wanted things to stay the same.
He tried once more to comm. Arcee, was met with only static, and couldn't really be surprised.
This is entirely my doing, after all. And that's rather unfortunately undeniable.
As he pulled himself upright and headed for the door, a few first drops of rain plinked against his plating, from stormclouds that had crept, unnoticed, overhead. The acidity stung, and he fumbled the controls in a bid to get inside.
In the sky above the citadel, the stars had vanished.
Arcee landed a few blocks away from base and walked the last stretch. Nobody was around to see her with everyone seeking shelter from the encroaching, rain-swollen clouds; but even dazed and aching as she was some war-born sense of wariness prompted her to take precautions.
The promised downpour arrived just as she rounded the corner into the alley. A flash of lightning and a distant rumble chased it, and the femme dropped heavily through the trapdoor.
Running footsteps soon echoed up the passage - Arcee listened whilst slumped against the wall.
"Who's there?" a voice called, before someone switched on the lights. Further down the corridor, the femme dimly registered a silver-blue figure aiming its gun at her.
Chromia sucked in a gasp.
"Cee?! Oh Primus - what happened?"
Arcee tried to explain, but found her vocaliser unwilling to emit anything but static. Chromia turned to talk into her comm. channel.
"Moonie? Get up here. Now. Cee's back."
Summons issued, the older femme moved towards Arcee, extending a servo in an offer of comfort. The seeker flinched away, pressing herself back into the wall with widened optics.
"Don't"-
She felt unclean, after what she'd done. Witnessed. It was all still jumbled in her processor: the fading blue eyes, the fizz of a dying spark and the fuel on her fingers, the vacant stare Cliff had worn as his life leaked away. Arcee was scared she'd lose control and lash out like before if Chromia got too close. She was dangerous, dirty; no matter how many times she told herself it was Starscream, and not her, who was these things, the warm wetness of Cliffjumper's energon still burned on her digits.
"Cee..." Chromia's voice was lower now. "Cee, what did he do?"
Moonracer clattered into view, and Arcee squeezed her optics shut.
"Cliff..." she finally managed. "I killed... I saw Cliffjumper. Right before he"-
Chromia cried out in horror, and when the seeker looked back at her friends Moonracer had her servos over her mouth.
"He told me it was a mercy killing," Arcee whispered. "Years ago. He said he put Cliff out of his misery, and I guess I wanted to believe him when all this took off. But he stabbed him - right through the spark in cold energon, and Cliff was fine, he was a prisoner..." A tiny, hysterical laugh rose up from nowhere. "I should know. I was there."
This time when Chromia moved forwards, the grey femme met her halfway. She was lifted into a cradling hold by powerful arms and the bulky femme turned back down the corridor. Arcee slid her arms over Chromia's shoulders and buried her face against her neck.
"You can cry if you want, Cee," Moonracer murmured, falling into step alongside them. "Primus knows you deserve to."
But any anguish she felt over Cliffjumper's death had been expended the first time round. Now, she was numb. Numb, yet unsurprised and shocked and repulsed all at the same time. The contradicting flurry of emotions reminded her of the spiralling chaos she'd glimpsed in Starscream's spark, and she suddenly wanted to rip all those feelings out through her chest.
Even as she shuddered at the memory, a chill realisation settled over her.
I have to go back, if I don't want to expose everyone. And I have to give my spark to him again.
The bond wasn't complete.
He lay awake on his back in the berth for what felt like hours, with his wings splayed beneath him at odd angles. Unmoving since he collapsed in this sprawl, save to fold his servos over his chest with his digits interlocked.
Scarlet optics stared blankly at the canopy that arched above him (needless decoration, but he'd developed a taste for that after centuries living at the most basically functioning level of comfort). Soon after the sun crested the horizon, he knew, he'd have to journey to the council tower and try to weave a story over this debacle. For the first few megacycles he could perhaps excuse Nightracer wanting to rest - but if they summoned her he wouldn't be able to do anything save try to override it. And that would doubtless look suspicious.
All he had left to him now was lying in this sleepless swirl of thought.
... Which was interspersed, now and then, with twinges of distorted, alien emotion. He had closed his end of the bond as best he could, almost immediately after Arcee fled - but she'd apparently yet to get around to doing the same, and he was feeling the effects.
Her spark had quite honestly startled him when they bonded. He'd been expecting something cold, and certainly she had tried to withdraw from him at first. Fury would have been another guess, had anyone asked him beforehand; probably tempered by the fragile balm of Autobot morality, but still burning strong.
What he had received instead was... protectiveness. Fierce protectiveness, and caring, both as bright and brilliant as her physical spark.
But he'd only found that after delving through through layers of pained memories and carefully-constructed emotional walls. The message had been clear: this was Arcee at her most vulnerable, and he would have to fight to see it.
Starscream had, of course, taken that as a challenge.
Strangely though, he found himself regretting it afterwards. When he'd reached her very core and felt its pull - drawing him inwards, on and on, to somewhere that he'd feel safe - he'd also been overwhelmed with the sense that he didn't belong there. An anomaly, so to speak; a black spot on the light of her spark. Even so, he'd discovered he wanted to stay there for some reason. That someone could come through a war and still retain such a nature, damaged and unstable though it was...
In all honesty, it fascinated him.
Except that the price of seeing it was these flashes of Arcee's consciousness, each one flitting across his processor like an agitated nitromoth. And every thought pained him more than the last.
Arcee ached. Not physically - he had confirmation through that, at least, that she hadn't been attacked again - but seeing what she had during the bonding had left a deep and immediate scar. There wasn't grief in any great measure. By all appearances, she was past that. It was the confusion that hurt her: the tangle of recollections, that were both hers and his, had her half-convinced she was the monster who'd stood over her partner and felt such triumph at his death.
Experiencing his own memories and thoughts from another's point of view was rather unsettling, if unpleasantly eye-opening. The sense of loss and outrage Arcee now carried with her reminded him of when his trine had disappeared - he was struck, suddenly, by the thought of their death being at his hands.
Starscream, against all odds, felt a twinge of remorse.
The femmes met only Ratchet on their way to Arcee's room - Chromia had sent a 'false alarm' message round, but one look at his expression showed that he'd known exactly who had shown up.
"What did he do?" the medic demanded, optics stormy. "I knew this was a bad idea from the first, but"-
"According to Cee, he didn't do anything," Chromia cut in. "Besides murder Cliff, at least - and then leave the memory out for her to experience."
Ratchet sucked in a sharp intake.
"I want her in the medbay for the night."
"No offence, Ratch', but that's not what she needs right now. Moonie and I are taking her back to her room."
"Are you claiming to know more about mental care than me, Chromia? I may not be a specialist, but if you can comprehend for a moment the psychological damage she'll have just suffered"-
"Can't she make her own decision?" Moonracer piped up. "I mean, she could always stay with us for the night then come here in the morning. I wouldn't want someone poking around in my CPU after what she's been through."
"I can't come back here in the morning, Moonie," Arcee said softly. All three Autobots turned to look at her. She sort of wished Chromia would put her down, but doubted her request would be fulfilled if she asked. Especially since equally, she wasn't certain her legs would work properly if it was.
"I've got to go back to the citadel."
"If you think I'm gonna up and deliver you back into that slagger' slimy clutches"- Chromia started.
"Chromia, you have to. How's he going to explain it if Nightracer disappears? If I don't go back, we lose Vos' help. And Primus knows what'll happen to this place, once Megatron figures out what Starscream's been doing."
"And we're supposed to just forget what he's done to you?" Ratchet demanded.
"He didn't do anything. I... he..."
He killed Cliff.
I stabbed him. I did it. I was there.
She remembered being just as angry as Ratchet at one point, but now-
It wasn't me. It wasn't... it was...
It was me.
I didn't stab him. I-
I broke the bond.
She cried out suddenly, tightening her grip around Chromia's shoulders. A chorus of concerned noises greeted this, but she barely heard them.
I broke the bond. Have to go back.
Can't look back. Can't tell Jack. Fowler, Sierra-
She was drowning in guilt and grief - a brief flash of astonishment appeared from nowhere, disjointed and somehow not hers, but it was gone almost before she registered it. Instead, she noted sudden movement as Chromia turned towards the medbay.
Have to go back.
"No," she insisted, barely above a whisper. "No. Ratchet!"
The medic met her optics, his own gaze wary.
"I need rest," she declared stupidly. "I... I need rest... in my room... and in the morning I need to go back to the citadel."
"Arcee, you're under no obligation to do that. Starscream can surely invent some excuse"-
"Ratchet, I broke the bond. I cut it off before it could finish and... and I keep thinking I murdered Cliff! I'm getting myself mixed up with Starscream, I have to fix this and show the councillors I'm still around, I need to recharge. And Moonie's right - I don't want you poking at my CPU. It's been invaded enough for one day already."
"Wh- if the bond severed before it was complete, that's even more reason for me to take a look at you!"
"But there's no time. Please, Ratchet. I need sleep more than I need this."
The medic deliberated for a moment before giving a defeated sigh and nodding, waving the femmes away. Though when Arcee glanced back over Chromia's shoulder, she saw him watching after them with worry creasing his faceplates.
Soon they reached the door to Arcee's room, and despite everything, once Chromia crossed the threshold the seeker felt a wave of comfort wash over her. Gone were the draughty rooms and too-big berths of the citadel: her optics travelled over familiar scuff marks on the walls, from where she'd practised moves with her arm blades, and a faint smile threatened to pull the corner of her mouth upwards.
"Guess it's lucky for you we didn't get round to clearing this place out, yet."
Chromia clambered onto the berth with Arcee still in her arms and lay down on her back. With some shifting of the femme's burden and a sideways shuffle to let Moonracer squeeze in too, Arcee soon found herself sprawled facedown on Chromia's chassis; Moonie's digits laced through those of her own right servo.
A bulky arm draped over her back, mindful of her wings, and Chromia's other hand reached up to brush its knuckles gently along the side of Arcee's face.
"You just recharge now, okay, sweetspark? You're probably in for a rough night, but try to forget about that little cogsucker over in the citadel if you can - can't do much about the bond thing, so don't you worry about anything else except that."
"Don't even worry about that," Moonracer added, giving Arcee's servo a squeeze. The grey femme was reminded, suddenly, of her wish to return to her berth and see Moonie again. It was hard to believe that'd only been this morning. "We're both here for you, we'll help you if you can't deal with it."
Arcee finally let herself smile, but she couldn't muster more of a reply than a contented hum before her optics drifted shut.
"And if you want," Chromia rumbled, her words reverberating through her chest where Arcee lay, "in the morning I can head up to the citadel and bash your slag-swilling consort's helm in."
The offer, though oddly comforting, didn't stop the nightmares when they came.
Sleep did eventually claim Starscream, but it was fitful and restless; interrupted by flashes of thought from Arcee's side of the bond. The weather didn't help matters. Tonight's storm was firmly established in the skies over Vos and didn't seem to be letting up anytime soon, if the cacophony of thunder and hammering raindrops was any indication.
A brilliant bolt of lightning slashed past the window and the Winglord groaned, bringing a servo up to shield his optics from the glare. It was gone almost as soon as it appeared, plunging the berthroom into darkness once again.
Starscream screwed his eyes shut and grimaced at a sudden influx of panic from Arcee. She was suffering from nightmares, as far as he could tell - every so often, the transmissions from her side included fragmented images or sounds that she couldn't possibly be experiencing awake. More than once, they had loosened his tenuous grip on recharge. The mech wished he could find some way to block her out; he'd need his wits about him come the morning if he wanted to explain Nightracer's absence.
Thunder rolled overhead in a rumbling wave, accompanied by another stab of fear.
He whimpered and clenched one servo into a fist. A small, rather nasty voice at the back of his CPU was whispering that he deserved this for what he'd done, and that he ought to think of his bondmate - these were surely only echoes of what Arcee was going through.
Starscream told said voice in no uncertain terms to shut it, and rolled onto his other side, dragging the thermal sheeting up to cover his helm.
This whole situation was almost laughable, truth be told. Sharing experiences and emotions through a sparkbond had long been held as something to be celebrated, almost sacred in the way it was spoken of. Yet the moment he and Arcee had touched upon it the whole thing had become twisted, and torturous in its impact.
Though he could concede it was largely his influence that'd set the stage.
You could at least try and get through to her, that voice chided, undeterred.
But she wasn't going to answer her commlink now that she was asleep...
He had gotten through to her, though - not too long ago, there'd been the vestiges of something akin to a panic attack. That'd been strong enough to pull him in, almost breaking the block he'd placed on his end, and he wouldn't be surprised if Arcee had registered something of his reaction.
Perhaps that was the way to reach her. Even if he was the last mech she'd want in her CPU, it was worth a shot.
Starscream inhaled deeply and deactivated the block.
Arcee?
Arcee, can you hear me?
She wasn't sure if they counted as nightmares, in all technicality: there was no actual scenario, no object for her to direct her terror at. Instead, all she got when she drifted into recharge was a clamour of memory fragments. Claws slicing through the air and biting into metal; chains digging into her wrists as she watched Tailgate go limp; Sierra lying lifeless on the steps of the school... Even Cliff, reanimated and snarling, his jaw hanging loose and his mouth a gaping purple maw.
There were more memories that weren't hers, too - mostly involving Starscream's trine. Sometimes everything merged, and she was stabbing Skywarp or watching Thundercracker die at Airachnid's hand.
She wanted it to stop.
Arcee had lost count of how many times she'd awoken with a yell or a whimper, to have Chromia's arms tighten around her and her servo squeezed reassuringly by Moonracer. Words of comfort were whispered to lull her back into recharge, but they couldn't keep the flashbacks at bay.
And now she was drowning in her memory of that fateful evening, twenty years ago. The sun was red and low behind Jasper, staining everything not in shadow a dusky orange.
Arcee was running towards a spindly silhouette, splashed against the golden sky like an ink stain. It'd left a trail of panic in its wake: overturned cars and screaming humans and buildings collapsed where they'd been carelessly slammed into.
It was making for the high school...
"Airachnid!"
... Can you hear me?
Primus above, this was all her fault. Who knew how many humans were dead? How many had yet to lose their lives, now that the Decepticon was loose?
Arcee?!
Someone was calling her name. Wildly, she spun round, her back strangely light without her wings - but all she saw was Bee, roaring up behind her in alt mode.
Arcee, are you listening?
And that wasn't Bee's voice.
Starscream?
Yes. Thank Primus, I've finally reached-
Get out of my head!
The memory faded around her, and she was left drifting in a strange, suspended state. Every fibre of her ached to fall int unconsciousness, but Starscream's presence wouldn't allow it. A sound floated towards her - the shriek of claws against metal - and she cried out, trying to pull away from where she felt the mech in her mind. Nothing happened. It was as though he was an anchor, keeping her from casting adrift and escaping.
Just let me sleep.
You are sleeping though, surely? You didn't wake up after that nightmare.
Flashback, Arcee corrected. And what happened there was my reason for agreeing to this whole thing.
When Airachnid got loose and attacked Jasper. All because you tried to kill her in her stasis pod.
The femme felt a chill settle over her.
How did you-?
We're bonded. You think I wouldn't have found out? Besides, you already admitted to it - why are you concerned if I know the details?
Because I never gave them to you! the femme burst out. And I never asked you to be here. Leave. Before I make you.
At least tell me that you're safe.
I'm at the base, she admitted grudgingly. I've got Chromia and Moonracer with me and I'm trying to sleep.
So am I, but interference on your part's made that difficult.
You think you've got it bad?! Arcee was quite frankly amazed at his insensitivity, if not surprised. Then she remembered one of her previous visions. I could give you an actual reason to complain, if you want.
She made to disconnect herself from Starscream's consciousness again - something still held her back, but she could see bits of the visions that had plagued her flickering here and there in her CPU. The femme caught a glimpse of blue and veered towards it. Her connection to Starscream stretched out into a tenuous thread, and somewhere in her mind he gave an exclamation of discomfort.
That cut off abruptly as Arcee submerged herself in the false memory: herself, as Starscream, standing over her victim again, about to deliver the killing blow. Yet in Cliffjumper's place knelt a blue-and-silver mech; built not unlike Arcee's partner but for the wings on his back.
In the corner of her mind, Starscream performed the incorporeal equivalent of sucking in a gasp.
Thundercracker?!
The very same. And you know what's about to happen, don't you?
... Please. Pull back. Don't make me watch - don't make me do this!
Arcee couldn't deny relishing the power she suddenly held over him, after a month with her life under his thumb and the events of that evening. But she remembered all-too-clearly how she'd been screaming when she left the bond. She gave in to the pull of Starscream's presence, snapping back from the vision and into the strange limbo that their connection had formed.
Is that enough to make you leave?
Even before he gave his response, she knew what it would be. How a formless presence could radiate so much stubbornness baffled her.
I don't think so. In fact, it's just solidified my reason for staying.
And what reason would that be? the femme demanded.
It took great effort for you to slip back into those night terrors of yours, with me here. I think that if I stay, we might actually get a decent rest for the remainder of the night.
As furious as she was, Arcee couldn't deny that he had a point. And she did badly want a proper recharge.
... Fine. But you'd better shut up. I don't want to think about you being in my mind any more than I have to.
Technically, I'm in your spark.
That's even worse. And what did I just say?
... Shutting up.
Starscream wasn't sure how, but they managed to achieve some sort of second unconsciousness within their respective recharge cycles. It worked though, and the strange, neutral ground that they'd formed afforded them both a better rest from then on.
The scientific part of his CPU wondered if such a phenomenon had ever been recorded before - surely theirs couldn't be the first bond to break prematurely?
The rest of him just wanted to sleep.
And sleep he did, well through sunrise and into the morning. So great was his exhaustion that he missed three separate pings from Polaris, demanding to know where he was. More specifically, why he was not currently present in the council tower. (The last one, he would discover, clearly had its own ideas about why he and 'Nightracer' had yet to reappear; which were almost laughably far from the truth).
Upon waking, however, his initial panic over said messages soon dissipated in favour of other matters. His suite didn't just consist of berthroom and washracks (and living space on the level below). There was also a small sitting room attached at the back - and its door was no longer fully closed, as it had been last night.
Cautiously, Starscream climbed out of his berth and approached this anomaly with quiet footsteps.
After a rather apprehensive knock yielded no answer, he entered.
Arcee's wings were sticking up above the back of a couch; she was apparently lying on her stomach, flicking through channels on the viewscreen before her. The sound was muted.
It didn't seem like she'd noticed him. Deciding to keep it that way, Starscream turned back for the berthroom.
Her voice stopped him in his tracks just before he closed the door.
"You snore really badly, you know. I could hear it even with that door shut."
"I suppose you'll just have to get used to it, then."
"Maybe. Or you could do something about it. Food for thought, there."
AN: Out a bit later than promised/planned, but I got there in the end! Unfortunately, I can't promise that the next one will be up sooner, either: I'm rapidly approaching exam season, and while the tests themselves are still a way off revision's gotta kick up a notch now if I'm to have any hope of passing.
HOWEVER, I will try and get more written, if not typed up. So fingers crossed that once I'm out of the woods I'll have a nice backlog of chapters to post for you guys! :)
