A/N: Find the Princess Bride moment and you win the internet. This chapter corresponds to Rise Extras 17-20.

Edit: Thank you to the reviewers who pointed out what could be better, and an especially big thank you to Lemur for telling me how to improve it. I hope that you find this more satisfying.

26. Fracture

I was denied flight. I was denied the company of my fellow Decepticons, denied conversation with any but my master. I was denied the luxury of personal space and the sanctity of my own body and Spark. I was denied even the refuge of my memories. Those were lost to disuse or corruption or the cruel firewalls keeping me from my own past. Faces blurred and names became mere suggestions of an idea. Even the images I tried to cling to wavered and warped, slipping away like so much spilled energon draining from a shattered cube. My closest friends became scattered, vague images, snatches of scenes from a time that felt eons away.

Something dull and hopeless grew inside of me, making its dark voice heard in the gaps once occupied by my memory. Why fight? it asked. Why resist any longer?

The flash of a grin, trophies in the form of red paint scraped onto my claws, echoes of a satisfying ache in my frame, a faint twitch of my hands in an instinctive movement before I realized that I'd forgotten what I was doing. Gone in a klik.

Why? I knew I had to resist something. Someone. Ratbat. But I couldn't remember why.

A smile. Something blue – armor? optics? – a hand on my shoulder that wasn't punishing, wasn't cruel. My Spark gave a brief flutter, warming in response to… something. It slowed down in a moment, heavy and cold as always.

Ratbat's smile was poisonous; his hands left a tingle behind them as part of me rebelled still against the touch. His words dripped into my audios, sticky-sweet and cloying.

Hands, strong, sometimes gentle, picking me up and straightening my plating. A gleam of light on the line of a wing. Words, harsh and teasing but clean, surfaced in the mire my processor had become before sinking again, lost.

The hot blue-white Spark was ravenous after being trapped in its pathetic cassette form for so long. His hands circled my wrists as I struggled automatically, knowing only that I must, that I had to, and losing that faintest sense of rebellion would end me.

A laugh. A hand in mine, lips brushing my cheek, a place of light. A pure Spark given to me, something willing and familiar and enjoyed. A name tickled my glossa, buzzed in my vocalizer, but its sounds had disappeared, lost from my memory. Remembered joy threatened to bloom in my Spark but I held it, cherished it, kept it away from Ratbat's taint.

And in the losing, the withholding, all that made it to my Spark was constricting grief, choking and stifling, and a single heavy sob tore at my vocalizer.

My master paused in his torment, a lying hand – pretending to be gentle – stroking my cheek.

"Are you sad, my pet?" His poison-laced words dripped into my audios.

Fight, the smaller part of me whispered.

Surrender, the dark part urged. Their battle coiled around my vocals and silenced me.

"You continue to struggle. And yet it seems that the passion has gone out of you. Where is your fire now, slave? Your defiance?" He smirked and kissed me like a lover. Deceptive and false, but part of me yearned for the touch, and that part controlled me in this confusion that fogged my processor, and that part compelled me to respond to his lips, to try to follow when they left me. He chuckled, his Spark radiating pleasure and smug satisfaction. "The light has gone out of your optics. Have I finally broken your spirit?"

My Spark gave a pitiful twinge of anger. Not all of me, I wanted to say, but the dark part weighed down my glossa.

Ratbat's smile screamed triumph and he leaned down, mouthplates ghosting over mine as he spoke, victory evident in his voice. "Ah, my pet, I've won."

I remembered little of those dark vorns. It was an unending nightmare full of Ratbat's words, Ratbat's hands. Ratbat's Spark. My weak, obligatory defiance delighted him, especially once he'd learned that the Spark had gone out of it. He never grew bored of mocking me or marking me. I grasped at the fragile shards of my memory but managed to retain only scattered images.

I grew accepting. Tired. I became a shell of my former self: "Nova" was gone, curled up and tucked away in a far-off corner of my Spark.

It may have been vorns or astrocycles for all that I knew until the dark existence was disturbed. I heard a faint thump. Strangely familiar. At once there was a commotion, mechs running through the halls. My master was livid, his optics burning furiously yellow. He seized my wing and marched me down to the sublevels, where I could no longer hear the sounds of… something… from outside.

"Such insolence," he hissed. Somewhere deep inside, it gave me pleasure to see him angered. Ratbat opened a door I recognized as the cell. My cell. I'd been here several times since my first stay, but I had never grown used to it.

He pushed me in, closing the door, and all was dark save for the dim glow of my optics. My vents kicked on, my Spark flaring in panic. Vorns had not erased my claustrophobia. I offlined my optics, struggling not to purge my fuel tank.

I waited in the silence and darkness, trying to calm myself. Curiosity ventured out from the pit in which it had hidden. Ratbat was upset. Why?

After some time, I became aware of a tug in my Spark, a faint, faint burn of recognition, and "Nova" raised his head from where he was curled into his corner of my Spark, hesitant, cautious.

The door opened and I flinched away from the blinding light, shrinking back from what was sure to be my master.

"Nova?!"

My designation. I hadn't heard it in so long that it startled me. This mech wasn't Ratbat. I peered closer at the dark silhouette, seeing… blue optics. That made no sense. No Autobot had ever called me by my designation.

Then there was a brighter flash, the sound of a weapon being fired, the smell of melted plating and internals, and the blue optics went out, the mech falling to one side. Light gleamed on the line of a wing… red optics. The mech who had been hidden behind the Autobot moved closer. Spoke again. "Nova!"

His voice. I knew that voice, those optics, those hands that now grasped my arms, shaking me gently, pulling me out of the cramped cell. I knew him.

"St-ar…?" I hazarded. Star-something. Still wasn't sure. I'd never seen him before. Hard to speak. My vocalizer hurt, hissing with static.

His hands came up to my face, tilting my head back slightly. The touch made me almost queasy – all I felt were Ratbat's hands, and now he would strike. I flinched at pain that didn't come.

"Primus," he whispered. "It is you. Hold still."

He linked to the port at the back of my neck. I could feel his presence in my processors, sifting through everything, and I struggled, thrashing weakly, trying to dislodge him.

"Slag, you're a mess. How long has it been since you got a virus scan? Debugged? Defragged?"

Firewall. Just like Firewall. What more could he take from me? I tried to expel him from my processor. As much success as last time.

"Nova. Nova, listen to me."

He withdrew. I slumped in relief - but how could I know whether he'd taken anything? How would I ever know what I'd lost this time?

Hands on my face again. No pain. What was all this about? I onlined my optics again and he was right there. Red optics. Not yellow. Not blue. Familiar.

"It's me, Nova. Starscream." My Spark gave a double-pulse. Had I known him? Not with Ratbat. From… before? "I'm here for you. To take you back."

Back where?

I answered myself. Away from here. From Ratbat.

"Back?" I croaked.

"To Kaon. To the Decepticons." I remembered that. I remembered the towers, half broken, hallways underground, a room filled with datapads. Mechs with red optics. Like Starscream's. Decepticons. I was… I had been… their commander…? Firewall had left that. For the comparison. Hadn't Ratbat said that? "You'll be free again, Nova."

Free. I couldn't speak.

Starscream took my shoulders, talking slowly and clearly. "I need to get into your processor again, Nova. To help you."

No. Never helped. Only stole. Hid.

But I… knew him, somehow. I could trust him. I nodded and he linked in again, careful to show me exactly what he was doing.

"How… long?" I tried slowly. He hesitated while he ran through my systems, attacking the firewalls and connecting me to his own virus scanner.

"It's been a while, Nova," he said finally.

"How long?"

Again he hesitated. "Fifteen vorns."

Vorns. Felt like longer. My chronometer wavered, then jumped forward as he set it running again. A measure of sanity, seeing the kliks go past again. I watched them, marveling.

"Is anything coming back to you?"

I wasn't sure. Couldn't be sure. The Decepticons, yes. Now that I knew his name I was remembering other things. Flight. He taught me to fly. He had been there with me, in Kaon, when I led.

"We all thought you'd been terminated," Starscream said. "I reclaimed leadership. All this time, I thought you were dead…"

Yes… you led once. Before me. Concern. Concern in his voice, and somehow I knew that this was strange, for him. Why would he be concerned for me?

Close. I was close to him. This feeling in my Spark…

"…c-creator," I rasped. His optics met mine.

"Yes. I am." He looked concerned, only starting to realize how much I'd forgotten. "Prime let slip that you'd been captured, that you were here… Nova?"

Prime. My mouthplates moved independent of my control. Optimus, I mouthed. My Spark gave a great surge of knowing. A vague figure from my earliest memories… caregiver…?

Betrayal. What betrayal? Something dark roiled in the pit of my Spark. Why did that name make me feel… angry?

"How's this?" He meant my processor. I blinked. "I can't do much about the firewalls, Nova. Not until we get to Kaon."

My head felt clearer than it had in… a long while. "B-better."

"All right, let me see your thrusters. What's he done to you?"

I told him, haltingly, painfully, everything. His face darkened as he listened. A greater change took place within me as I spoke. The dark, subjugated part of me boiled away as the rest reared up in seething fury. I hated Ratbat. I hated the Senate. I hated the Autobots for letting this happen to me.

"The slagger," he hissed. Wonderfully honest after so many vorns of Ratbat's poisoned lies. "I'll terminate him."

"Me… first," I vowed. He took one look at my face and deferred, supporting me to my pedes.

"This will hold you for short distances, but not sustained flight. Skywarp can get you out of here in a hurry."

Skywarp… Skywarp sounded familiar.

"While you're leaving, we'll burn this place to the ground. Would you like that?"

I nodded. All trace of this place should be wiped from Cybertron's surface.

He helped me limp to the upper levels, where the sounds of fighting were louder. The next hall housed a group of mechs. All red optics. Some of them had constructed a barricade across the opposite door and were currently firing over it. The others turned as Starscream and I approached. There was an excited babble as they crowded around, reaching out towards me. I shrank from their hands – Ratbat grabbing at me, the guards beating me down…

"Stay back," Starscream barked, batting their hands away. "Give him room. Nova?" He put a hand on my arm. I quivered, but managed to stay otherwise still. "It's all right. These are your mechs. Decepticons."

I looked around. All of these mechs bore the same symbol as Starscream. I glanced self-consciously at my heavily damaged wing… though the paint was long gone, the metal scorched and dented, I could still see the scarring of my sigil.

I vaguely recognized another Seeker, dredging his designation from my memory… Skywarp. I knew him… completion, fulfillment… my wingmate?

"My lord," a massive bomber-type murmured, dropping to his knees, his single optic spiraling closed. He held up his hands, offering my confiscated sword. It looked pitifully small in his huge pincers. I took it carefully. My good wing was almost too battered to hold it, but it stayed.

"Commander!" A mech skidded to a halt, staring at me, then continued his report. "We've forced the Autobots to the upper levels; we believe Ratbat's holed up in the secondary audience chamber with them…"

I lurched at him, gripping his armor. "Take me there," I forced out. Starscream nodded to the soldier.

"Follow me," the soldier said. I kept at his heels, Starscream and the rest of the Decepticons just behind us, still holding off the Autobots. My processor whirled as I passed once more through the place of my nightmares. Soon I would be free of it forever; all those who had beaten me or mocked me would be annihilated. They all deserved to die.

The Autobots made a stand in Ratbat's audience chamber. I didn't see them, didn't notice the danger of their numbers and weapons—all I saw was Ratbat at their backs, hiding behind his guards. As both sides opened fire, he turned to flee, preparing to transform. I fired up my thrusters and hurtled over the Autobots' heads, catching the purple mech and slamming him down on the lashrack. The searing pain in my thrusters was a small price to pay for the satisfying crack. Ratbat coughed up energon, his fuel tank ruptured in the collision. I heard my trinemates battling the Autobots who sought to aid their precious Senator, but I tuned it out; the world shrank until it was just him and me.

"Please!" he gasped. Coward. "Spare me! I'll do whatever you ask, please!"

"Anything?" I spat, prying his chestplates brutally apart as he had done to me so many times, relishing his screeches. He scrabbled desperately at my arms, yellow optics blazing with the terror of a mech who knew he was doomed.

"Yes, please, anything you want, anything!"

I wanted to say more. I want you to die a slow, agonizing, hideous death. I want you to suffer every iota of pain and humiliation that you've inflicted on me. I want you to scream and beg for death. But my vocalizer couldn't handle it.

A shout from Starscream reminded me that I had no time to do everything that I'd fantasized about. "Wrap it up, Nova! They've got reinforcements!"

I dragged Ratbat up so I could snarl in his face. "Die."

I closed my claws around his Spark casing and yanked hard with strength I hadn't known I possessed, crushing the delicate chamber in my fist. Ratbat shrieked, spasmed once, and then his Spark guttered and died. His shell grayed over beneath me.

I let the now-empty Spark casing fall to the floor, staring at my energon-coated hands. The satisfaction faded surprisingly soon. I frowned, letting Ratbat's body slide off of the lashrack. It hadn't quite been what I'd thought it would be.

"You can help me exterminate the Senate later," Starscream shouted at me as the Decepticons directed their fire towards the roof, shattering it. We blasted out amid heavy fire; I saw more Decepticons in the air outside, blasting the Autobots on the ground. Beside me, Starscream jerked with a vicious curse, but kept flying.

Starscream must have sent a command over their comms, for the Decepticons disengaged as one, following us away. I twisted for a last look at my former prison. Ratbat's once-grand estate was ruined; an entire wing burned merrily, smoke rising hundreds of astrometers into the air. I saw continued fighting on the ground—the other slaves, those who could not fly, taking advantage of the chaos to make a break for it.

"They'll be fine," Skywarp assured me at my elbow. "Right now our priority is getting you back to Kaon. Come on, Nova, we have to go."

Starscream, uncharacteristically silent, and Skywarp flew on either side of me, supporting me between them. Although my thrusters were agony and my missing wing meant that I couldn't possibly fly on my own, it felt good to be back in the sky after all those vorns.

"Primus, Nova," Skywarp said. "You're alive… we all thought… I thought…"

"I'm here," I choked—my vocalizer would need repairs to restore my voice to its former state. I could barely remember him… we were trinemates, so we must have been close.

"You're trine, Nova. My wingmate. Without you it was like… like having a wing torn off." His optics flicked to the stub of my wing. "I'm… I'm so sorry, Nova—"

Starscream's flight path wobbled. "It's nothing," he hissed in response to Skywarp's concerned look. "I took some fire, that's all. Keep flying."

I glanced at him, noticing how pale his optics were. "Need… rest?"

"No!" he said stubbornly. Then he winced. "Maybe… a cycle or two."

"Primus, Sc—you're leaking all over!"

We managed a wobbly landing; the other Decepticons landed as well, maintaining a healthy distance. Now that I was looking closely, I saw that Starscream's wounds were worse than he'd let on. Energon spilled from a jagged hole in his torso. Inside I could see sparking circuitry and severed fuel lines. I was amazed that he'd made it this far.

Guilt squeezed my Spark. He'd sustained this injury while covering me as I disposed of Ratbat… protecting me. If I hadn't been so bent on revenge, I would have noticed sooner.

Starscream saw where I was looking and grimaced. "Sabot slugs," he gritted out. "Adapted from the humans. Didn't know they had them."

"Hang on," Skywarp urged him. "We'll get you to a medic."

"Idiot," scoffed Starscream, shifting as though to sit up. This increased the energon flow so drastically that I reached out to press him back down. Though my memories of Starscream remained elusive, seeing him like this did horrible things to my Spark, as though someone were squeezing and twisting.

"Don't. Help you?"

His optics dimmed as he ran a diagnostic. "No," he answered weakly. "Damage critical. Nnn-! Primary fuel line is slagged."

Skywarp gave a wounded groan. I sat numb. This couldn't be happening. After all that had happened, to lose him so soon after he found me, before I could even remember…

Skywarp grabbed Starscream's shoulders. "You… don't do this to me, Screamer!"

"Don't… kkh… call me that," Starscream growled back. A memory tickled furtively at my processor, but darted away as soon as I tried to concentrate.

"I already lost TC. Don't you leave me too! I don't want to be alone!"

"Warp," his trinemate interrupted, reaching up his free hand to cover Skywarp's mouth. "You're not alone." He guided his wingmate – my wingmate – to look at me. "He's trine now. You need to look after Nova. Keep him out of trouble. Don't you dare follow me."

Skywarp nodded. Starscream's hand lingered on his face for a moment. Then he looked at me and his optics dimmed. I received the databurst a klik later and processed it. It was a memory file… no, not one, but many. And all of these memory files, so carefully saved and kept in a well-guarded corner of his processor, involved a small Seeker. Vorns of Starscream watching the young mech change and grow—from the gleam of tiny optics activating for the first time to the Spark-wrenching agony of giving him up, of stepping back to watch from the shadows as he grew from the tiny protoform he had been into an adolescent; from the surge of joy and pride as he took to the sky on his own to the nearly overwhelming ache of gratitude as he flew in with two familiar mechs; from the satisfaction and pleasure of a mind changed to the dedication and loyalty towards a leader.

And the emotions washed over me: happiness, grief, exasperation, affection, respect, frustration… the pain he had suffered for those vorns I had been gone… the pride he felt every time he watched me fly… the warmth in his Spark when he looked at me… how it felt to watch his Nova grow up.

And then I understood just what Starscream was giving me, just what he was telling me, something he couldn't put into words, something that he could only express by passing on those precious memories to me: that somewhere under his sharp, smirking exterior, he had cared for me, and that beyond the oaths he had taken, he had protected me. All my life he'd been there, though I didn't know it, and he'd watched as I grew up, and then he'd finally been able to step in and help me mature and become someone he could be proud of. He loved me down to the Spark.

All of this I processed in a few brief kliks. When I returned from my perusal of the databurst, he watched me still. I didn't trust my vocal processors to speak; instead I nodded to show I understood.

"Rise up," he said, and though his voice cracked, there was no mistaking the emotions layered inside it. I nodded again and he smiled at me. It was his usual smirk, always that little hint of irony, as though he were party to some cosmic inside joke.

Then his optics darkened and he was still, the hum of his systems fading into silence. Beside me, Skywarp shuddered, giving a choked whimper. A wisp of memory – bonded. His bondmates… gone. Hurts him. My own Spark wrenched inside me, burning; I felt the grief as intensely as the other Seeker. Between my Spark and the memory files, I knew what I had lost.

For a while we didn't, couldn't, move or speak.

After a time, the Decepticons shifted around us. "Commander," I heard. "We should move."

Skywarp stood up, shaking visibly. I heard whispers, quiet murmurs, and saw optics directed from me to Starscream's gray frame and back.

"Lugnut, transform," the other Seeker ordered, somehow managing to speak clearly. I could hear the knot of grief in his voice. The monstrous, single-opticked bomber who had fetched my sword obeyed. "My trine—" His voice quivered and broke. He reset his vocalizer and continued, "My trine will ride in you. All of you, set your course for Kaon and get there as fast as you can. The Commander needs a medic."

It didn't feel like freedom. At any moment, I expected to be struck with a shockstick, to be seized and dragged back to Ratbat – he's dead, I killed him, he can't hurt me any more. But logic failed to reach me. The fear had become instinctive.

I tried to recharge, but I was so accustomed to being forcibly awakened at odd hours that I couldn't keep myself offline for more than a megacycle at a time. It was the nightmares that woke me most often: Ratbat's hands on me, his being hungrily devouring mine, and I woke with a shock, Spark flaring in panic, sometimes to Skywarp's questioning look.

The result was a long, uncomfortable journey. I drank the energon offered to me by Skywarp, but it barely helped my physical state. The inability to recharge properly meant that I spent much of the time staring into space, unable to shake Starscream from my processor.

The cityscape of Kaon was refreshing – Firewall had not hidden my memories of Kaon itself, my city, my home. It was enough to calm me as Skywarp led the way out of the transformed Decepticon, enough to lead my steps towards where I knew the medbay lay, but halfway there I hesitated. I knew something.

I allowed my pedes to lead me off of the original path.

"Nova? Where are we going?" Skywarp kept pace at my elbow.

I couldn't answer. I still didn't know.

We arrived at the large door, which opened for us automatically, and I stepped through into quiet darkness.

"Why here?" Skywarp asked softly.

"Memory," I answered, vocalizer even worse now.

A mech appeared quite suddenly out of the blue glow. Archivist, something in me supplied helpfully.

"Welcome home, Commander," the Archivist murmured, reaching out to take me by the elbow. I jerked and he let go quickly. "My apologies. The Hall of Memory, no doubt."

I knew better than to question him. The next room, with its blue-lit consoles, was as familiar as the one before it. I sat before a console, battling down the instinct to struggle as the Archivist linked me into it.

/Interesting,/ I felt in my head, along with a presence too massive to define.

What is he?! I wondered, almost panicking. Reassurance flooded me.

/I will not harm you. You may find the process easier if you go into temporary stasis. Will you allow me?/

Anxiety and willingness, instinct and logic battled in my Spark. Trust won out. /Yes./

It wasn't like normal forced stasis. More like recharge, with snatches of memory darting here and there. Over it all presided a presence with unfathomable space and knowledge.

I woke.

My processor ran smoothly, free from blocks, my memory complete. But it was a bittersweet discovery; I knew what I had missed, who had been mourning for me… who I would be mourning for.

After the physical repairs had been completed, Skywarp and I set off alone, bearing Starscream's body northwest towards Vos. My Spark was too heavy even to enjoy the flight, to feel the wind caressing my wings, to relish that weightless, delirious joy of freedom. My first sight of Vos, ancestral home of all fliers, was tainted by the weight in my arms. Still, the vast canyons, the natural spires, all spoke of a place that Starscream would love, a worthy resting place for any Seeker.

Skywarp took the lead, flying towards one of the spires. At the last moment, he sank down pedes-first, revealing that the top was open to the sky. I followed, landing in a cool, dark space, large enough to dispel my claustrophobia. In the center was a carefully constructed plinth covered in carved glyphs.

The other Seeker beckoned me forward. I looked down into the raised area and found a layer of the same high-resistance glass which comprised our canopies, beneath which lay a greyed Seeker. My Spark gave a horrible pang and for a moment I couldn't speak.

"Thundercracker," I murmured as soon as my vocal processors would allow it. He looked… peaceful. Content.

Skywarp activated a panel and the glass slid back. I gently lowered Starscream's frame beside Thundercracker's, then stepped back to allow Skywarp room to stand before them. Further back, I could see the glyphs carved into the tomb: "'Til all are one." That phrase drew up Thundercracker in my memory. It carried with it a sense of calm, of peace.

"You know…" Skywarp started, then paused to reset his vocal processors. "Megatron was wrong about Star. Always called him a coward, or a traitor, or a failure. But he came through when it really mattered… he always did. And he came through with you."

The only thing I ever did right.

"He really did care about you. I felt it in his Spark. He loved you."

My optics felt hot. "I know." Always watching me, always protecting me, in his own way… Starscream had always been there when I'd needed him.

You don't need me anymore.

But I do.

Don't be an idiot.

I would have laughed if that miserable feeling in my throat had let me. That was exactly what Starscream would have said.

I left Skywarp staring bleakly at the makeshift monument and went to the nearest cliff, standing there with the freedom of the sky around me on all sides. For a moment I wished that he'd left me something, some item that I could carry about in my subspace. But it was a passing fancy, a foolish thought. I already had my inheritance. I had the all the most valuable, the most precious things that Starscream could have given me within myself.

I wasn't religious. I believed in the existence of Primus, and in the Well of All Sparks, but I had never made a habit of praying, so I had no idea what the proper words would be for this time. Instead I murmured a short Seeker blessing that Starscream had taught me – "Let the wind carry you above the stars" – and it seemed as decent a rite as any. I shuttered my optics and turned my face to the wind.

Goodbye, Starscream.