A/N: Huge thank you to CaptainShort19 for being my stalwart reviewer lol 3 you rock :)

Love to pikachukite as well 3 :D

Artuz strode into the tram where the Cybertronians were. J-06 had just been returned after his victory looking smug as ever, with P-09 was tutting over the cut in the cheekplate. SW-17 was attempting to help SS-22 stop the bleeding from his missing servo, but the seeker was not behaving.

Artuz empathized. Dealing with a misbehaving seeker was annoying. While not strictly forbidden, killing a combatant after they had already completed the leg was somewhat frowned upon. He was afraid that the team or even SS-22 would face retribution or punishment of some kind, but the word never came. Reactions to the kill had been positive.

"Well, another job well-done, my sparklings," he said with warmth. They all looked a little disturbed. "Oh I know you aren't sparkings anymore, but I just can't help but feel like we have a special connection!" There was a silence. Surely, they were just so overwhelmed with emotion that they couldn't reply correctly. He would forgive them. "Things are really starting to shape up for you, you know! You will be so excited about your reward."

"More rooms?" J-06 snarked.

Artuz affixed him with a glare through his mask. "No, actually. You will be given a 5-minute voice call to anyone you want in the known universe."

They all perked up immediately. The poor things! They must be socially deprived. He would have to talk to his sponsors about arranging more social interactions.

"Anyone, Master?" came the strained voice of SS-22.

Artuz nodded emphatically. "You will all have a chance to have conversations with whomever you wish, you just need to tell us who you want to talk to, and we'll connect it." They seemed to all share looks of hope. "Your reward will be tomorrow so that you have time to think about what you want to say.

"But first, you need medical attention! We need to get you all fixed up before your inspection," Artuz said. That soured all of their moods, of course. SS-22 went catatonic.

"Dear, are you alright?" he said with some concern.

"…please master, not an inspection. I-I am… gravely injured…" he said, and his single servo surreptitiously went to his cockpit.

It seemed the others didn't notice or were just irritated by his whining, but Artuz understood. "We will get you some extra sedative," he said, hoping his kindness was not wasted.

He glided out of the room as repair androids took his place.

They were slowly returned to the room, one-by-one, starting with Jazz, then Soundwave, then Prowl. They felt groggy from the sedative they had been given by the androids, and some of their repairs itched from their newness, but otherwise they were unharmed.

They had been sent to individual rooms this time for inspection which was new. It had unnerved them, but it was more of the same. More leering glances from behind masks, more touching, comments about their performance, musings about their future escapades. Jazz idly thought it was like the same kind of inspections that the humans did before a horse race.

It took a few moments for them to realize Starscream had yet to return. Jazz, Soundwave, then Prowl decided to use the washroom to try and peel the feeling of tentacles across their armor. Eventually, Soundwave retired to the berth room, leaving Jazz to watch the display of stupid Quintesson shows.

It took another cycle, but then the door opened again. The androids dropped Starscream in a heap of wings, and then also curiously deposited a crate inside their quarters and left.

Starscream did not look up as he cradled his cockpit on the ground. Jazz furrowed his brow at his behavior and was about to speak when the seeker began to stir. Without looking at Jazz, he reached an arm over and opened the crate, grabbed a bottle from inside and walked towards the washroom. He was slumped as he walked, and he made no indication that he knew Jazz was staring at him oddly.

He opened the washroom to a protesting Prowl who was drying off. Starscream roughly pushed the Praxian out who squawked in indignation, but Starscream had slammed the door behind him.

Curiosity got the better of Jazz and he looked in the crate. Sure enough, there were 11 bottles of expensive high-grade from golden-age Cybertron. He whistled as he inspected the bottles and then noticed a note tucked inside the box.

"To Starscream: From your loving sponsors," Jazz read aloud. "Seems Starscream has a fan club."

Prowl also inspected the bottles. "That might do us a favor," he said, water still glistening from his joints. "Artuz said that popularity would benefit us in the long run."

Soundwave came out of the berth room and looked at the bottles and then looked to the washroom.

Prowl noticed. "You think… he's okay? They were all over him at the last inspection. He seemed more freaked out about the idea this time."

Soundwave paused a moment longer before stomping to the washroom and kicking the door open. Prowl followed, curious.

"Starscream: leave the bottle," Soundwave commanded.

Prowl peaked around the corner and saw Starscream sitting in the bath/shower combination, letting water just soak around him as he eagerly drank down the high-grade. Starscream saw Soundwave and attempted to drink faster.

Soundwave huffed his vents and walked into the washroom and then reached for the bottle which Starscream pulled into an embrace and looked at him pathetically. It was clear he was already starting to get drunk.

"Get your own!" the seeker cried, pushing away Soundwave's servos. Finally, Soundwave got a hold of the bottle and yanked it out of the arms of the seeker and stormed off.

Prowl saw the Seeker go from indignant to crumpled in a matter of seconds. He quietly closed the door to leave him alone.

"Why did you take it from him? Primus knows we all need it," Jazz said as Soundwave put the bottle next to the energon dispenser. There was hardly any left.

"Starscream: Forbidden from drinking high-grade. Megatron's orders."

Prowl wrinkled his noseplate. "Why?"

Soundwave looked to the crate and then back to them. "Starscream: Makes irrational decisions if he is over-energized. Megatron forbids him from drinking high-grade."

Jazz shrugged, but Prowl still seemed unhappy with the explanation. He was about to say more when Soundwave strode back into the berth room and closed the door.

It had been at least three cycles, and Starscream still hadn't emerged from the washroom. Prowl knocked at the door to the washroom, but no response greeted him. He figured it was about as much as he was going to get.

He slowly opened the door to see Starscream hunched over, slowly cupping water (somewhat unsuccessfully) and pouring it into his open cockpit of all things. That was… odd.

"You're hogging the washroom," Prowl said.

Starscream didn't look up, just kept cupping his servos and pouring water. His optics looked distant.

"Hey, you do eventually have to get out," Prowl said moving into the room. "You're going to rust." Starscream just turned on the faucet again and cupped more water.

Prowl stood over him. "Hey. Can you even hear me?"

Eventually Starscream did look up. Prowl felt his intakes hitch when he saw the pain in his red optics. Prowl was concerned. He had figured that the Quintessons had kept him longer for a reason, and none of the possible answers were any good.

Starscream had stopped cupping the water and placed a servo splayed on his cockpit as his optics welled with some cleaning fluid. "No one told me-" he said, quietly, painfully.

Prowl confusedly looked to his cockpit and then back to the grimace Starscream had. Then he realized what had happened.

He sank to his knees and pulled the seeker into an embrace. Water splashed on the floor, and Starscream was surprised at first but then just kind of melted into it, leaning his helm against the Praxian.

Prowl sighed. "I'm so sorry," he said. "I… suppose I hadn't put it together either. I wasn't thinking about it." He felt Starscream sob against him, and he just felt terrible.

Most of the transformers had been made as vehicles specifically so that the Quintessons could use them for transport, domestic trade, or military uses. Seekers had the unique honor of being created for all of the reasons, becoming one of the favorite methods of transport for the Quintessons, because their cockpits were not affected during their transformation sequence.

Prowl could only imagine what it would be like to feel the creatures crawling around inside his chassis, knowing that he could not deny them or stop them as they touched him with their uncaring tentacled appendages.

"It was like I was a fragging amusement ride," he said. "They all just wanted to crawl around inside there like it was the good old days," he said as his helm fell a little more. "They… were wiggling around, touching me, and touching controls that I didn't know were in there," he said quietly. "I had no control over myself…"

Prowl understood that feeling. The Praxian held him for a few more kliks and then let him go. "What do you need?"

Starscream hiccuped. "I need more solvent," he said pathetically.

Prowl looked around and found some in a cabinet under the wash basin. He handed it to Starscream who poured more of onto his chassis and torso. Prowl tilted the shower head and turned it on low, so that Starscream could wash that way rather than pathetically try and cup water to clean off the solvent.

Prowl sighed. For the first time ever, he saw Starscream as just a frightened kid rather than the enemy. He was like Sunstreaker and Sideswipe or even Bluestreak, just pricklier, more Decepticon, and saddled with more responsibilities. He didn't know what exactly it was inside him that was hurting so much for the seeker, but he felt how raw and awful it was. He got up to leave the seeker to clean in peace, but a servo shot out and grabbed his arm.

"Please. Stay."

Prowl felt like he should feel conflicted, but he was happy it was easy to say: "Whatever you need."

Eventually Starscream left the washroom, with Prowl following behind. The Praxian sat down by Jazz on the couch, giving him a chaste kiss and a knowing look that said he would explain later. Prowl turned his helm and noticed Starscream fiddling at the energon dispenser and reached behind to hand him the note.

"Seems you are getting sponsored," he said, looking up at his faceplate.

Starscream looked at the note and then to his two strange roommates, blue optics and visor staring at his red ones. "I don't even know what that means," he said. Then he took the note and tore it up, letting it fall to the floor.

"Feel free to drink it," he said hoarsely as he went to fill up a cube from the dispenser.

He tensed when he saw Jazz turn around on the couch to face him fully, pulling out a bottle of the high-grade and pouring some of it into his cube. Starscream watched with surprise.

"What Megatron doesn't know, won't kill him. Unfortunately," Jazz said with a wink.

Starscream wanted to sneer, but his faceplate didn't cooperate. He cracked a wry smile instead. He then topped off his high-grade cocktail with some regular energon in case Soundwave came out to make sure he was being temperate. He then made his way to the other couch and sat, nursing his energon.

They sat there in pleasant silence, letting the noise from the display waft around their audios. Dimly, Starscream noticed that it had been repaired from when he had thrown the remote earlier. He felt the eyes of the Autobots on him as he drank, but he didn't really care. He just searched for numbness at the bottom of the cube and hope he would be able to recharge without replaying everything from earlier today.

The phantom feeling of something crawling inside his chassis close to his spark forced him to start talking about something else.

"I… had an interesting conversation with the organic before he betrayed me," Starscream said, carefully. The two Autobots looked at him with interest. "Apparently the Quintessons sometimes 'retire' combatants, meaning they keep them here like some kind of celebrity."

Prowl frowned as Jazz took on a thoughtful face. "Could be better than participating in the games for forever. It seemed the Palaxians we fought in the first game had been here for a while."

Prowl made a disgusted noise. "I wonder how many of them were promised freedom too."

Starscream stared at Autobots, before quietly adding, "I don't think they will let me go."

Prowl sighed. "We won't let that happen to you," he said.

Jazz looked a little surprised at the declaration, but to his credit, nodded. "We're in this together 'Screamer. Won't leave without ya."

Starscream sipped more of his energon without comment, turning to the display. "It also seems that making allies in here is harder than it seems," he said as the recap of the game played. The news anchor Quintessons were whining that there was no footage of how Pran had managed to get the drop on him and stab him through the servo. Starscream smiled inwardly. Good. Something he could keep from them.

"Why did he attack you?" Jazz asked.

"You mean other than attempting to win the game for his team?" Starscream said with slight indignation.

Jazz softened a little. "I think they were being opportunistic for sure, I'm just not sure why he turned on you at that moment."

Starscream shrugged. "He said that I wasn't very good at the race and the stabbed my hand. Injury to insult, so to speak."

Prowl frowned. "Piri picked me out immediately as being new to the game. I realize now it was her seeing how much I knew and sizing up how much she could get away with. I suppose there are all kinds of ways to beat the games."

Jazz folded his arms on the couch. "I suppose we can only rely on each other," he said thoughtfully.

Starscream made a face at that but hid it by sipping more energon. It was saccharine comments of that nature that threatened to kill his buzz. Yet as he drank, he felt the high-grade waft through his systems and settle nicely on his processor. He felt his faceplates warm and he felt himself relaxing nicely.

"Who did you want to talk to tomorrow?" Jazz asked Prowl. "I was going to talk to Optimus," he said.

"Oh, I guess Optimus as well."

Starscream chose not to comment.

"Okay well I don't want to say the same thing. What are you going to say?"

"Oh you know the usual," Prowl said smiling lightly.

"'Oh hi, Prime! Just hanging out with some Quints, no worries though, Prowl got good with Katanas!'"

"I was good wasn't I?"

"Super hot, to be honest-"

"OKAY, I'm out," Starscream said putting his cube down and getting up to go to his berth. "Thanks," he mumbled with a wave to Prowl as he walked through the door and closed it behind him.

Prowl looked dumbstruck. "He said 'thanks.'"

"Ha, he's drunk."

Starscream woke when his proximity alarm was going off in his helm. Soundwave was standing by his berth, looming. The seeker reared back, scrambling back against the wall, surprise and fear gripping his spark.

"Starscream's dreams are loud," the tape-deck said tiredly.

Starscream relaxed a little. "I'm sorry?" he replied, rubbing the heel of his servo into his optic to clear it of recharge.

"Starscream: Require comforting?"

The seeker blinked a few times, his mouth agape. "Uh, no Soundwave… I'm alright." Starscream very carefully started to move around the telepath to get off the berth. The tape-deck's behavior was very unnerving.

Back in the Nemesis, the two hardly spoke except in the presence of Megatron, and even then, it was a rare event. Megatron favored the rare but insightful comments from the tape-deck, merely to ignore most of Starscream's suggestions. Starscream had been briefly sympathetic to the telepath when they had woken in this place, mostly because of how much emotional turmoil he had been in to have all his bonds with his cassettes severed at once. No one should have to go through that alone, even if all they had to offer condolences was Starscream. But now, he was beginning to regret this. Soundwave had been more cold to him lately than he ever remembered.

"Starscream: Lying," Soundwave said and climbed into the berth, and wrapped Starscream in a tight embrace.

Starscream squawked and tried to pull away. "Okay, listen Soundwave, I'm not your sparkling to just comfort, I'm your superior officer! What the slag are you doing?!" he had raised his voice as the arms had come around him, holding him far too close. He whirred his fans in annoyance.

"Soundwave: also requires proximity." Starscream stopped struggling at that but was still radiating tension.

Soundwave continued. "Soundwave: Has empty void next to spark. Too much space."

Starscream closed his optics as exhaled, relaxing in the hold of the tape-deck. First a relationship-counselor, now a therapist as well? These slagging morons.

"It feels like there is a part of you that is missing," he said. "A gravity-well of emotion, sucking everything you think and do into it."

Soundwave shivered. "Yes. Starscream has experienced spark-break before?"

The seeker leaned his helm back against the wall. "Just… go to sleep, moron."