Chapter 21: The Old Fool
A/N: Okay, bad habit kicking in, dragging the chapters on :O NOOOO!!!! If I make any mistakes, please forgive me X. This chapters quite long, so it'll take a while to search and correct! And most importantly, thank you for all your reviews and taking time to read my fanfic. I'll do my best!
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"…So I just want you to know…" the green seeker was cut short by his creation.
"That you weren't the only one who created me, that I was not made by one Transformer but two, a beautiful femme con and her ugly slag-faced mate but she met an untimely departure from this world leaving a broken old seeker and their creation waiting for a physical body to fill with her spark?"
A pair of raised optics met Starscream's reserved expression in reply.
"……Well-…that's one of the-"
"You can't hide datapads and pictures from inquisitive sparklings. It's a natural trait of the talented." Starscream felt a large digit flick at her nose and she instinctively swiped the brush end across the green seekers face.
"Nosey little Star." Triburst commented, leaving the paint to glide down his face. "Now you know."
"Yes, I do."
"…Well, what do you think?"
"I think you're an afthole who keeps secrets because you're a broken con. My mother was a beautiful Decepticon female and I you never said anything. All you did was make a pillow out of shaved iron clippings so I won't hurt my head, because I woke up unfinished, all thanks to you know who." The red seeker felt her fuel pump skip a beat as old memories haunted her cerebral circuits. "From then on, all you did was suffocate me with your incessant, cosseting mollycoddle, just to lull me into a false sense of security. And when things didn't go your way-"
"I only did what I thought was right, little Star-"
"YOU DID IT BECAUSE YOU DIDN'T WANT TO GET HURT YOU SENTIMENTAL FOOL! SO YOU REJECTED ME AS YOUR CREATION!"
The paintbrush shot fiercely across the room, splattering red wine droplets across the scene. Following it was the canister of maroon paint, finishing the job in making the walls resemble a clichéd murder scene. Triburst gradually dropped his elbow to his knee, propping a heavy chin on his hand. Looking at the infuriated aerial commander with a tired look, the old seeker harboured little care for what she was going to say next, and watched his daughter pace and rant around the room, cleverly referring to him in the most derogatory terms. He silently took the fury of the femm cons words shooting out of her chin-wagging mouth, creating an onslaught of unpleasantries echoing around the room.
'Got to let it all out, Star? …Hmm, this seems all to familiar-oh yes' the old seeker delved in his own thoughts. "(You've definitely taken after your mother. Vocally)."
"What did you say?!"
"I said you're a big-headed wind bag of a femme con with no style, and a lot of crass," he added.
"Old oil-guzzling Cybertronian hobo!"
"Oh no, little Scream's little words, oooooh," he waved his hands beside his head, adopting an expression of mocked fear. "You're just embarrassed of your old mech because he doesn't live in Iacon. For a very, how shall I say, 'urbane' individual, you're still are a Transformer that was born in the slums, and no amount of posturing can change that. And still a typical femme con in every way…"
Starscream raised her head and turned a tense glare at her creator. "Oh no you don't-!"
"High, maintenance," Triburst finished with a firm nod.
"ROBO-PIG!!!!"
"Bark, bark."
"That's not the call of a pig, you pariah!"
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"'Can't find her!"
"'Course we can! She's red, blue and silver, has a cute bee-hind, and-"
Blaster looked blankly at Jazz counting the number of ways they could identify the now missing seeker from their optics, the saboteur happily drifting off in his own notions.
"…Is it me, Jazz man, or do you have a thing for her cha-cha?"
"An'-what-WHAT-WHOA-WHOA-whooooooa!" the Porsche frantically shook his hands and head in disbelief at the cassette deck and his unbridled deduction.
"Look, I can tell when a bot's got bit by the big L, and you got it all over like a hickie outbreak!"
"Hey man-" Jazz paused, checking his words. "You gotta admit, baby got back."
"…Yeah okay, ya' got me too."
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"…Said all you wanted to say, little Star?"
Starscream huffed and sighed in vocal exhaustion, too tired to convince the old relic of his galactic faults. Unceremoniously dropping her bottom on the bunk bed behind her, the aerial commander wrapped her hands around her head, unsure of what to do or say next to her creator. Yes, she wanted to tear him into ribbons on sight, this seeker, incurable of age and archaic philosophies, never forgetting his sentiments for her.
She just wanted to break her silence, demand for his Cybertronian gadget, and leave without saying goodbye. Maybe she'd give a recited comment, stating that his patriotic efforts were not in vain, and his usefulness might earn him a fitting position in the Decepticon hierarchy. But that's not what he wants, not what Triburst wants.
Triburst wanted his daughter to grow up as witty and as intelligent, like her mother, tutoring Starscream the same way he did with his late partner. The older seeker even went to the extreme of making a male body shell for her as a disguise, after much persistent coaxing by the future Decepticon second-in-command. And she kept her academic promise by excelling magnificently, with flying colours and a scholarship to the best prodigious school Cybertron has to offer.
What he didn't want though, was his only creation to become overly ambitious, but that was a wish that was hard to make true. Because the young are always curious and questioning, exploring the possibilities that they perceived as endless. Starscream was no exception, and her ambitious streak was a definite trait that she was his creation. So Triburst motivated Starscream to fulfill his idea of her happiness.
What was to happen in the near future made Triburst's spark tick with aggravation, even till today. By Primus, how could this total stranger not be blameless for the events to come?
…The red seeker lost her colleague, her mentor, her friend.
And to what? Some primitive, cruel, fickle nature belonging to some distant, nameless planet?!
Starscream circled half the globe to search for him, on low fuel.
No results.
No options.
So she returned safely back to Cybertron, beaten, exhausted…
…heartbroken.
Impulsively flying straight to Triburst's home, wearing her true form in body and mind, the younger Starscream poured her emotions out with words and tears on arrival. She said was going to retire from science and exploration after this assignment, and pursue her friend as a female Transformer. She admitted she felt feelings for him she never knew of, and there was nothing she could do now. The old seeker felt his optics sink when he saw his precious creation fail at keeping her usual poise in false bravado, and his whole system almost crashed on the weight of the next revelation she had in mind.
Starscream wanted to join the army.
Triburst wished she would cry on her pillow like all delicate femme cons, or noisily scold the air in frustration. He wished she would compose herself after a good emotional purge and return to him for reassurance of a good future. After his pride and joy got over her puppy love (for some Transformer he never even knew of), she might ask her creator to find a suitable mate for her, and he would. One that was conservative, responsible, and confident, who would treasure Triburst's pride and joy for the rest of their immortal lives. They would be coupled, and she would be happy that her creator had made the best decision in her life. Triburst did not wish Starscream would be proud of him, but for that extra bonus he would mentally preen himself.
He wanted her to be happy…in HIS way.
What Triburst was absolutely sure HE didn't want, was his daughter to risk her life flying amok through enemy lines, or come in close contact with lecherous grunts. And to not forget, the punishment for femmes getting involved in the army was unreserved and severe. All these vorns of shaping her to become his perfect creation, dashed to nothing in the flicker of an optic. What came next was an exchange of words about her impetuous behaviour, her naïve beliefs, and the clueless slate which was her cerebral board. Starscream, at her wits end, quickly disowned him before he could say the same to her.
The last he saw was her wings sunk low. Yes, he knew he was being selfish. If only she understood why he wanted her to lead the life he planned for her. Creators know best, and he didn't want to have to identify another body, another empty husk of a female close to his spark again.
The old Decepticon only asked for Starscream to be herself again. Her continuous string of questions for him, that were rewarded with more questions. The small clicking of blue and white feet, an incessant raspy vocal asking to be spoilt by materialistic demands, a small pair of fingers tugging at his tail fins. The soft breaths and sighs, lying peacefully on the pillow he made for her until she fell into recharge…
"What are slag are you looking at?"
The old seeker's optics blinked his thoughts away, to find Starscream standing over him, before turning her attention to rummage through the cupboards. Finding the desired object, the aerial commander roughly tossed her pillow on the bunk bed, scaring the dust away from her old possession. She sneezed and coughed when it tickled her facial receptors, and the femme con fluffed the old bag thoroughly to plant her head into its familiar shape.
"Its too late and I'm too tired, so I'm staying here. When I get out of recharge, I'll take what's mine, so cut the chit-chat." Starscream pulled at her dark cloak, sliding it to silhouette her supine body.
"It's cold, you know," the red seeker nuzzled her head into her pillow. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Triburst watched the red glow from her face disappear, her optics narrowing down, softly flickering offline. The old Decepticon shrugged to himself and took a casual position to sleep on the med bed, taking note of Starscream's cloak slowly rising and falling with her chassis. Drifting off into recharged had slowly smoothened the crease between her optics, and Starscream quickly fell into a soundless recharge.
"Ah…the old fool has learnt so many things…" he spoke to his sleeping daughter.
"…Never wish for what you want, 'cause you might get something better than what you asked for."
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A/N: Um, Big L's actually a late rapper's moniker, but y' know what I'm talking about ;) Aaaaah…