A/N: This is the angstiest chapter yet, so prepare yourselves, it is not pretty. Much thanks to Tacytacs for a read through for a reaction and give some suggestions. Warning for talking about past abuse (implied sexual) and the dread of what is possibly coming.
CaptainShort19: Thank you again for the review- absolutely this is definitely going to affect the war going forward in some fashion.
"Right and the up-flick is kind of like a 'frag you' kind of motion," Starscream was explaining to Prowl. "I do it all the time to Megatron, but he definitely has never learned to read wings."
"Debatable," Soundwave interjected as he knelt by a stream and washed his faceplate.
"He… hasn't. Has he?" Starscream asked worriedly. Prowl was smirking.
Soundwave merely turned, giving Starscream a quiet look, then went back to washing his servos and arms.
"Anyway," Starscream said, glaring at Soundwave and then going back to his pupil. "And a flick back is kind of like a greeting." Starscream demonstrated, and Prowl copied in kind.
The seeker's faceplate changed a little. "I hope I don't regret teaching some of this to you," he said ruefully. Prowl shrugged with a mischievous smile. "Praxians really don't use doorwings to communicate at all?"
Prowl shrugged, his servos and digits signing glyphs in the air to spell out the words. Never a need.
"I suppose not," Starscream said. "In the air things can get loud with the wind, and can be easier than talking in comms. And maybe we use it more because our wings are… bigger?" Starscream said looking at Prowl's doorwings with a look not far from pitying.
Up-flick.
Starscream smiled widely. "Now you're getting it."
Prowl and Soundwave had arrived at an agreement for efficiency that Soundwave was allowed to read the thoughts on the periphery of his mind if he could not make himself understood quickly enough. Jazz had expressed his displeasure at this arrangement, and even Starscream had seemed a little trepidacious. It violated some kind of interfactional taboo that still existed between them.
Prowl had found it an interesting exercise in practicing discipline of his mind. In very little time, the two of them had picked up an almost silent form of communication that allowed them to sneak up on mechanimals and rival combatants with a high rate of success. They were very interested in the numbers they were getting.
Starscream and Jazz were left to loud complaining and loud sighs as the Autobot and Decepticon became closer. Prowl and Soundwave though were amused though because of the four of them, Jazz and Starscream were talking the most, even if it was bickering.
Jazz pulled Prowl close to him giving him a kiss on the forehead. Their "nest" as Starscream had called it was actually quite comfortable, filled with moss and leaf litter to ease their aching joints a little. Said seeker was asleep next to Jazz, sprawled out in a quite undignified fashion.
Are you ok? Prowl signed between them.
Jazz smiled. "You ask me that every night."
I promise I'm ok Jazz. Not your fault.
Jazz's mouth twitched a little, and he grimaced. Jazz wasn't sure he was ready to ask the questions that had been haunting his processor since the attack. He'd been keeping his field tight and trying to avoid deeper conversations by doing patrols with the other two.
"Prowl," he said, shifting uncomfortably, feeling the words fall out of his mouth unbidden. "When he… when the mech hurt you? You looked so… full of remorse. I… can't get that look out of my processor."
Prowl paused, his optics looking straight ahead into Jazz's collar plating.
Jazz held his intakes, not sure what exactly Prowl was going to tell him next, but he wasn't sure he was ready to hear it.
Regret, Prowl started. Hesitating. I was regretting that you had to watch me die.
Jazz exvented and then pulled Prowl closer into a crushing hug and just held him as he silently sobbed with relief. Prowl was petting his helm and lightly kissing him.
Starscream slunk out quietly without the couple noticing.
Soundwave was sitting outside under the fake moon that sometimes lit the sky above them. There were also fake stars shining down at them. Starscream said he didn't recognize them and gave derisively vivid details as to what he thought they looked like: from spattering of energon to flecks of transfluid against an inky black background.
He was charming. Deep down.
Soundwave's reverie was interrupted by the appearance of the object of his thoughts. His red and white plating almost glowed from the moon shining down on him, like a grand cape of light draping across his shoulders.
"Seems like the lovebirds have finally talked about their feelings," he said irritably. He had clearly been awoken from a deep recharge.
Soundwave nodded. "Positive change," the tape-deck said, watching Starscream carefully.
The seeker came over and plopped down next to him, leaning into him for some warmth. The four of them had grown quite close during this game, and physical contact between them had become common and even sometimes welcomed.
Starscream yawned. "Not if you are trying to recharge," he said. "Think they're gonna frag next; got out of there just in time."
Soundwave huffed his vents leaning into the seeker as well.
Starscream sighed. "How long have we been in this game now?"
Soundwave checked his chronometer. "Almost an Earth year," he replied.
"That long?" Starscream said. The seeker shifted a little against him. "Do you think they're still coming to rescue us?"
Soundwave wrapped an arm around Starscream. "Nothing will stop Megatron."
Starscream nodded looking up at the sky.
This was the moment then, Soundwave decided. He had let it gnaw away at him this entire time, causing him to wonder why he was putting himself through the suffering. Every time he saw the seeker, he felt a pang of guilt in his tanks, and he hated it.
He also hated doing what the Quintessons wanted, but he saw little choice now.
He removed his usual speech encoder, deactivating the syntax he had adopted all those years ago as a court reporter. He could not risk being misunderstood.
"Starscream," Soundwave said. "I need to tell you something," he said, feeling his spark quicken in his chest. "Remember the memories I shared with you?"
Starscream nodded, slowly and suspiciously.
"Unlike the Senate, the Quintessons thought outlier abilities were entertaining. When they discovered my ability, they were pleased. They wanted more telepaths."
"Soundwave-" Starscream said, quietly, as if trying to stop the conversation.
"My spark," Soundwave said and then stopped. "They forced me to split my spark far too many times, Starscream. I had many other creations other than Rumble and Frenzy, but they are the only two I ever found again."
Starscream had grabbed his servo into his and was holding it. As if he needed the comforting.
"They would take the new-sparks and put them into waiting frames, and then start the process over again. They didn't want the trouble of the randomness of Vector Sigma, and hoped that by focusing on me and forcing me to create, the CNA from me would give them the desired bots they wanted," he continued bitterly, his vocalizer becoming raw. He exvented.
"The Quintessons wanted me to let you know, Starscream. They desire more seekers."
Starscream froze. "Then they can make some," he said, hesitant and fearful. "Just like they used to," he said bitterly.
Soundwave held Starscream closer. "But they like you."
Starscream was trembling and shaking his helm. "No," he whispered. "No, no, no," he said trying to pull out of Soundwave's hold. Soundwave held firm.
"I'm sorry," Soundwave said. "I'm… so, so sorry."
"What?" Starscream whispered, horrified. "I won't- I'll… can't-" Starscream began to choke on his words. "They want me to make sparklings?!"
"It's why they were asking about your previous relationships. They want to know if they will have your first. Because your first will fetch a high price-"
Starscream let out a racked sob and managed to pull away from Soundwave. His optics were wide, and his intakes were ragged.
"No," he ground out. "No, that doesn't make any sense. If that was what all of this was about, then why go through the pretense of the games?" he said, folding his arms over his chest protectively over his spark.
Soundwave mournfully watched as the seeker went through denial. He had once gone through the same thing. "They likely were evaluating us. Hence the inspections. Seeing which one of us would be the most appealing to the Quintesson populace. Because… we are commodities, Starscream."
Starscream's mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to wrap his processor around this.
"I'll… resist."
"You cannot," Soundwave said, standing. "There is no way to resist." He knew the seeker was not mocking his past trauma as if it would have been easy to avoid.
Starscream was shaking his helm again as cleaning fluid welled in his optics. "Soundwave, please-"
Soundwave felt his broken spark break just a little more.
"How will they even accomplish this? They clearly want seekers, but they don't have any more here. Who will I…"
Soundwave shook his helm. "I don't know."
The seeker exvented, and fell to a crouch, holding his knees against his chest. His optics were wildly scanning the ground as if he could find the answer to his rescue.
"They wanted me to tell you, saying it would be easier for you if it came from me."
"No," Starscream croaked. "No. It's so they could record the interaction for their shows," he hissed. He was collapsing in on himself in denial, in pain, in fear. Soundwave could see his countenance crumbling.
Starscream had some cleaning fluid falling down his faceplate. "They want me to make sparklings? The sparks? To what end?"
Soundwave didn't want to answer this question. Sparklings were cute, impressionable, and easily manipulated. They might be the latest fashion accessory, and when they grew older, the preferred method of travel. Maybe even start a new war with someone.
Starscream was looking at him, realizing he also didn't want to hear the answer. "Why me?" he asked, painfully.
"It's better not to wonder at the why with Quintessons," he said finally. He dropped into a crouch so that he was optic-level with Starscream. "You will be okay. It will take time," Soundwave said, his vocalizer thick. "It took me time."
Starscream pushed his faceplate into his knees. "I… can't," he said. "I won't."
Soundwave did not contradict him this time. He sat down next to the seeker and pulled him into an embrace. Starscream did not resist. The despondence in his field was like a jagged edge to Soundwave, but he tried to comfort him as best he could.
Apparently overhearing some of Starscream's protests, Jazz and Prowl came out, looking worriedly at the pair. Soundwave picked up on the confusion in their minds, knowing they didn't quite hear everything that he had said to Starscream.
A booming voice then echoed across the forest. "Congratulations, Cybertronians. You have successfully completed the mission. Prepare for extraction."
Soundwave clenched his jaw. This was why they had been in the game for so long. His own stubbornness had kept them locked in this game, and the Quintessons were just waiting for him to finally do what he was told.
Starscream released a sob.
Right before they were escorted out of the arena, a strange flash of light swept over them again. This time, it brought the four of them to their knees, fighting an overwhelming sense of nausea and weakness as if their limbs were being held down and forcibly slowed.
They were dragged out of the arena since they could not stand and were deposited in a room, where Artuz waited for them. "Welcome back," the Quintesson said, more sedate than usual.
Soundwave was glaring hatefully, and surprisingly, the Quintesson seemed affected, almost sheepish. "I should explain that you might feel like a [year] has passed, but you have only been in that arena for a little over two day-cycles," he said. "Hence your current discomfort as your frame's readjust." He saw their confused looks and said "Time dialation technology," he said as an explanation.
"For what purpose?" Jazz asked, managing to bring himself to his pedes.
Artuz fidgeted and turned his mask quietly to Starscream who was laying on the ground, curled into a ball. His optics were listless staring off into nothing. Artuz sighed. "We're ready for your call to Megatron now," he said, his voice wavering a little.
Starscream just brought his servos up to cover his faceplate.
The androids moved and picked him up, bringing a whimper out of his vocalizer. The other three responded by trying to go to him, to help him, but they were grabbed and stopped, no matter how they struggled. Soundwave made an angry noise, attempting to thrash the most.
"I'll bring him back," Artuz offered quietly. "You have… one more game to play," he added as he walked off and the androids carrying Starscream followed.
Soundwave seethed.
Post Notes: We are marching towards the end here- I hope you like where this goes. And- THIS DOES END WELL it's going to be okay. Thank you for your comments, your kudos, and your support- this fic has been a lot of fun.