Slight update - I've changed the rating to M. I've decided to go ahead due to future scenes planned.
Anywho, enjoy!
Starscream had felt sick.
Not sick with fear – sick with nervousness. Anxiety. The room was lit by a single bulb hanging from the ceiling, a storage room, surprisingly wide and somewhat barren.
He'd shoved Eva inside, and she'd locked the door. Then Starscream, with as much tenderness as a Decepticon could muster, had eased her onto the ground and gripped her hips and kissed her lip plates, gingerly, the action so different from when he was human. Rougher. No less enjoyable.
She'd retaliated, digging blunt fingers up under his chest plates, popping them open with a hiss, as if she'd known what to do, all along.
They'd allowed programming and instinct to do the rest.
He couldn't stop kissing her. Licking at her armor, at her spark, exposed. They made love and it was much more passionate than Starscream had expected. Murmured in her ear, stroked her helm while she clutched at his arms. He could care less whether or not they made noise – which they did. Moans and grunts and cries and pleas to each other.
He'd told her he loved her, and she'd replied the same, over and over.
"We should have done this…forever ago," Eva murmured, burying her head in his neck, nipping at the wires. Starscream's hands massaged her wings. "Like, a long, long time ago."
"I would have still been human."
"Whatev's," Eva smirked against him. "Human or not, you've got game, buddy!" she leaned up, claws tickling his cheeks as she kissed him once again. "Like, serious mojo."
Starscream beamed. "I haven't been complemented like that for eons. Needless to say, my last partner wasn't particularly...devoted to the relationship…"
Eva chuckled, red lenses swirling in the pit of her glowing optics. Then she rested her head against Starscream's closes chassis, extended an arm and latched her servo onto his.
"You didn't have to change, you know."
"I know, but I wanted to fight."
"If you die…"
"I won't die."
She squeezed harder. Whimpered in pleasure as Starscream's talons found the deep grooves of her wings, hastily exploiting them. Then he scooted forward, heels scratching against the concrete, so Eva's face was level with his.
"Three words," he purred.
"You. Are. Hot."
"Wrong words, but a nice touch. I like it…"
"I. Love. You," Eva pressed her lips against his for a long while before pulling away. "I love you. And I'm yours. Always."
Happiness finally returned to Starscream, and he wrapped his arms tighter around the femme.
It would be such a shame, to have Father Time tear it all apart.
"It was really nice of you, taking me out here," Sierra said.
She sat, draped out across the back seat of Vince's convertible. The fiery haired teen sat in the passenger's seat with his legs stretched across the driver's side, lounging, nonchalantly chewing on a piece of gum. Trying to act normal. The car was parked atop a hill overlooking Jasper. A beautiful view, for the sun was just beginning to set, casting a warm, orange glow on the landscape. The town was just beginning to fall asleep, and yet…
Vince was cute. Jack Darby was cute, too, but he'd distanced himself from Sierra and everyone else. He rarely came to school. The logical portion of Sierra had asked itself over and over, pleaded, saying, "Go ask Jack what's wrong. It probably nothing. Probably something family related that you wouldn't understand."
Her words wouldn't help, anyway. She'd never been good with words.
Even now, she was flustered, yanking at her skirt. She'd caught Vince staring one to many times, and despite the fact that they'd already made out once – a once and a lifetime offer – Sierra wasn't ready for…that yet. Especially with someone like him.
But he'd made an offer, and she'd taken it.
It had just been a choice, right?
One, simple choice.
"Hey, do you hear that?"
"Hear what, Vince?"
Sierra checked her phone. Checked the time. Checked her text. Two from her mother, one from her cousin. He had a birthday coming up.
Sierra never saw the creature burst from the woods. Vince did. And he screamed and screamed and screamed at Sierra, who was reading the text, grinning giddily. Her cousin was so cute – he wanted her to come to his party.
Chronos swung his mace and crushed the two teenagers beneath a ton of spiked metal. Vince died screaming.
Sierra died smiling.
"Signal detected, and whatever it is, it's heading for Jasper," Ratchet said loudly. Dreadwing shot to his feet. Knockout lifted his head and mouthed the words, "oh, Primus, no."
"I'll send out an alert," Fowler said immediately, standing, leaving June on the couch. As he jogged, he said, "It too late for an evacuation – I'll have everyone hunker down in their basements. It's the least I can do."
Then he was gone.
"Knockout, you'll stand by with Ratchet," Optimus rumbled. "There will be injuries to tend to, I'm sure of it."
The Prime turned his massive head to regard Starscream and Eva, both dragging themselves from the hallway. They looked flustered. He asked, "Are you two ample enough for battle?"
"Never been better," Eva answered sheepishly. Starscream gave a curt nod.
Jack watched from the corner. He had a hand on his mother's forehead. She was still running high, running a fever that he could do nothing about.
Couldn't do anything. Helpless.
Helpless and watching as his friends, his allies, his family geared themselves up for a fight. Arcee met his eye briefly – briefly, but in Jack's mind, it was an eternity.
Like she knew what was coming, and didn't want to tell him.
Her lip plates curled into a recognizable smile, and she saluted him quickly.
Foam dripped from Cerberus's three heads. He was eager, hungry, salivating as he observed the town before him.
Chronos could tell.
He saw cars, roaring past. The police were out – some sign that the authorities were involved. The human's – they could sense fear like animals, even if they were the one generating it…
His vision was superior. He could see a family being ushered from the outskirts, driven away in a vehicle with flashing lights and howling sirens. They were one of many.
He saw a little girl clutching her blanket. A boy with his action figures, all bundled against his chest. Both were crying.
Chronos licked his lips, and Barghest snarled. Then the horse kicked at the dirt, nearly dousing the fire behind him.
Behind him, bodies burned. The car was on fire, crackling, snapping.
"Madness tastes sweet," he murmured, his lizard tongue flicking and scenting the air. Oh, how he loved the taste. How he loved it.
It tasted like home.
Chronos had been born in the age of Primus. In the age of Unicron. He was older than Earth, older than Cybertron. Certainly older than a Prime and his half-witted gang of misfit Autobots. For he was time, and time was ageless.
Without him, time would not have continued to exist. If he died, his essence would travel the galaxy and find a new host…
Time would end up killing them all. Chronos. Spawned a trillion years ago by accident on some dying planet. A Greek god in physical form.
Someone like him couldn't die, and that understanding cured the gnawing anxiety in the pit of his stomach. Those Autobot's, they'd fight. He was physical, and therefore could be wounded, to some extent.
He'd have to kill Prime. Yeah. Kill Optimus Prime, and the rest would be his for the taking. They'd crumble. Destroy themselves first, for this was his planet. Not to rule, but to discipline.
Today, Jasper, Nevada, tomorrow, the world.