Just want to easy any worried minds with this: I want to stress that everything in To Die For has been planned it advance. TDF has a very clear ending in mind. It's been in "production" since 2011, so I've had plenty of time to think things through.

Also, I took some heavy summer classes which, again, made me late.

Warnings: violentflashbacks

[~]

Nothing ever stops all these thoughts and the pain attached to them
Sometimes I wonder why this is happening
It's like nothing I can do would distract me when
I think of how I shot myself in the back again
'Cause from the infinite words I could say I
Put all pain you gave to me on display
But didn't realize instead of setting it free I
Took what I hated and made it a part of me

Never goes away

And now
You've become a part of me
You'll always be right here
You've become a part of me
You'll always be my fear
I can't separate
Myself from what I've done
Giving up a part of me
I've let myself become you

~ "Figure.09," Linkin Park

[~]

Chapter XXXVI: All These Little Pieces

For all intents and purposes Starscream should have tried to make himself as scarce as possible. If anything he should practically become a hermit until the bonding properly settled and these outbursts died down.

That was an impossibility, of course. So for now, lying low was the best plan. Observing the foot soldiers in their work, making sure everything was in its place, couldn't hurt.

After a few kliks he found it rather calming. They all had a purpose, they all had a place. Their lives must be so simple.

He had a life like that prior to the war. Except in his youth he made the fatal mistake of asking his family one too many questions about his place in Cybertronian society.

Oh, yes. He remembered his grandfather's threats. He remembered how she grabbed him from under the arms and pointed at a park bench. "You see that?" she said. "If you don't do your job well, they're going to throw you into the smelting pool and turn you into something useful. That bench right there was once like you: she thought she could do something outside of was Primus gifted her with—and now look at her!"

He couldn't remember how he reacted after that startling revelation, but he did know that he never acted outside of his caste again. Eventually it became less of wanting to be a piece of furniture and more along the lines of just doing what you were born to do. You were born to be this.

If only he could remember what that was.

[~]

Watching them got boring after some time; they were doing everything according to plan and didn't need anyone hovering over them. There had to be something else he could do to meet a quota.

He turned the corner of a spacious hallway and saw—

—her.

There was an ache in his Spark, something grabbed his mind and yanked him, hard, into a memory he couldn't forget.

He's captured and held in a dark room, arms held above him by an energy force and legs tied together.

A fingertip dripping with corrosive acid runs tantalizingly slow across his faceplate.

He's tortured, he screams in pain, but he says nothing.

And then she brings in Tailgate—beaten, barely conscious.

"I don't know the coordinates! I swear upon the AllSpark, it's the truth!"

"We'll see about that."

She gutted his partner right in front of him. Every spurt of energon, every final tic on Tailgate's face plates, every flicker in his optics before he was extinguished was burned into his memory for the rest of his life.

And Tailgate's killer was standing right at the end of the hallway. The fire in his Spark turned into an uncontrollable inferno.

"AIRACHNID!" Her vile name ripped from his throat, echoing through the entire ship itself.

She faced him, optics alight with irritation, and in that in that moment there was nothing but a blinding, searing rage.

He jumped at her fist first, landing a single beautiful strike right to her midsection. There was a satisfying crash as she was thrown backwards into the wall, leaving a good sized dent. She shook herself from the floor and glared at him incredulously.

"What is wrong with you, Starscream?!"

"Don't act like you don't know, you spawn of a glitch! You know exactly what's wrong!" He took his fighting stance, as she took hers.

She growled like the beast she was, "there are just so many things you have against me, Starscream. Is it because Lord Megatron likes me more than you?"

He couldn't even form a coherent sentence.

What happened next was something of a blur: a flurry of punches, kicks, and a few curses. He wanted revenge and he wanted it now.

Until two large servos seized him, holding him back enough to allow Airachnid a quick escape. Breakdown pinned him against the wall, leaning his head out of the way of the frantic, clawing motions.

"What are you doing?! Let me go! I need to avenge my partner! She snuffed him! She snuffed him right in front of me! Let me go now!"

"What partner?"

"Tailgate! She snuffed Tailgate!"

"Wait. Who's Tailgate?"

"You know who he is! She tortured me for information I didn't have, brought in Tailgate and—and then she…she…" he trailed off and let his thoughts clear. The desire to avenge Tailgate dissipated, letting his

"Release me now, Breakdown," he muttered, "and forget this ever happened."

Breakdown slowly eased up, just enough for him to slink out of his grip and began to walk away, head bowed and grumbling to himself. And Breakdown couldn't keep his mouth shut.

"What happened back there? I knew you wanted to scrap Airachnid for a while, but that was…I don't even know what that was."

Infuriated he spun around and spat, "did you not hear me?! Forget. It. Happened!"

It did solve the mystery as to why Airachnid was so vitriolic towards Arcee. He could have scrapped the wretch for both of their sakes.

[~]

He needed to get off the Nemesis, at least for the time being. No, he wasn't sorry in the least that he assaulted Airachnid—he was just sorry that the moment he showed his face again Megatron was going to give him a thrashing and a half.

Knowing her she most likely already reported it, making it out to be much worse than it was, and knowing Megatron he'd defect to her, though she earned it.

And he found his opening just in time: Knock Out and Breakdown were assigned to investigate trespassing on an energon mine that they had already staked a claim on.

He was their superior officer, and he needed to oversee the entire operation; no questions needed to be asked (especially from you, Breakdown). So he followed them to a mine located in a colder territory of a northern country, expecting a simple mission with a simple outcome.

So one could imagine their shock when they saw MECH was trying to take their energon.

If that wasn't bad enough, they were doing so in these pitiful parodies of a Cybertronian's frame. Mindless dolls that were piloted by their agents. It was so insulting it almost spiraled back around into hilarious.

"Look at those flesh jobs. Just—look at them!"

"Oh, I'm looking, Knock Out. I am looking, and soon I'll be punching."

"Easy there, big fella. We go out there out they'll have the advantage. What we have to do is be a bit patient, and wait for the right opportunity. Let them do the heavy work, and we reap the benefits."

Really? Really?

"You can all sit here and wait for an opening," his servo slid back and the red glowing blaster shot forward. "I'm going to make one."

He out of vaguely heard Knock Out yelp at him to wait, but all he could comprehend was the rush of energy that came with an impending fight.

He jumped at the closest MECH piloted monstrosity and let the heel of his ped crush its inner chamber.

It collapsed in a satisfying heap of gore and crushed metal. That got the attention of the other eyesores, and in nanoklicks every fake, dulled optic was squarely on him.

One down, several more to go.

[~]

He stood in the command center, waiting pensively for an update; and it came sooner than he thought. Instead of a calm declaration of an unmitigated victory, there was something rather unexpected.

"Lord Megatron? Lord Megatron! You need to see this. It's—unbelievable!"

"Try me, Breakdown," he said airily.

The screen then changed visuals, and what he saw blindsided him.

It was Starscream,

Starscream fighting like he had never seen before. Not once, not even during the height of the war, did he ever witness him kick so high, lunge to and fro so effortlessly. He cleaved through the strange machines with barely any effort.

It was…impressive. No, more than that: it was unheard of.

Out of the corner of his right optic he saw Airachnid approach. She cocked her head and said, monotone, "he fights like she does. He hits like she does."

"Pardon?"

"That's right, I haven't told you yet. A few hours ago your dear second in command repeatedly punched me for no good reason."

"Did he now?"

"He did. When I asked him what his problem was, he just said that I knew what it was and then nearly knocked my helm clear off my shoulders. I could have ended up like that hunk of metal right there."

A quick look back rewarded him with the remarkable image of Starscream kicking the head and shoulders off of another grunt. Airachnid chuckled darkly.

"Looks like Arcee did more than just polish the inside of his Spark chamber—she taught him how to fight. Maybe there was some kinship between the two after all." The last sentence was spoken in a mocking tone, which was followed by a grimace of disgust.

Megatron's attention returned to the screen and watched the last moments of this one sided fight with passive judgement.

A kinship—or something deeper, more permanent, than that.

Soundwave had kept him up to date on his second's out of character behavior—all of the interesting new quirks that have never been present before now. Suspicious, really, especially since it all came about after Arcee's escape.

"Breakdown."

"Yes, sir?"

"Collect every last scrap of energon you can find. Starscream is to report to me now."

His wayward second had much to answer for.