My Madness, My Saving Sanity

Chapter Five: When Slag Hits the Fan

By: Nightelfcrawler

Author's note: While this is G1 based, I've made Starscream a blend of his G1 and Armada personalities just because I find the dichotomy of it fascinating. It takes place in no particular timeline, following no particular events. Also, please review politely. If you haven't something nice to say, keep it to yourself please.

"No, re-route this system here. If we give it full power, it's more likely to avoid a backlash."

Fool! What is he doing?! I thought wildly as I shoved the red mech aside none too gently and began to rapidly re-route systems.

"Wait, what are you doing?!" Perceptor asked alarmed, watching my fingers deftly input the calculations without hesitation. "You can't pull power directly from the core! It will overload!"

"Wait… wait look I think I see what he's doing."

Thank Primus for the insane scientist. Why was it that those with lack of sanity usually understood my methods more than the rational, I wondered as I pulled the final lever, and the bright red warning alarms abruptly shut down.

"Slag… that was close. He vented the coolant just in time."

"How'd you do it?" Perceptor leaned in, optics wide with curiosity. "You re-routed power from the ventilation systems to power the main coolant? I never would have thought of that… the two systems are normally incompatible."

Improvisation. Sacrifices can be made for the greater good. I shot back, slightly irritated as I leaned away from the panels, energon charging my systems like a rush of electricity. I'd forgotten how thrilling it was to use my intellect in such a critical moment. It was far more exciting than battle.

"I got to hand it to you, Skyfire." Perceptor said, one hand slapping onto my shoulder. "You are very handy to have around. I'm glad you joined us."

It had been several months now, and the flash of guilt that had once accompanied the use of my fallen friend's name had long since stopped pestering me, thank Primus. Even the nightmares had eased off again. I felt like an entirely different mech, one who had fully embraced the lifestyle of, ironically, being an Autobot, despite the fact I was still a prisoner, the others had come to realize my scientific knowledge and experience were highly useful. We had built better security systems, communications systems, and secured far more important data than they had in orns before my arrival. And I hated to admit it, but I was actually becoming comfortable with my presence here... when we indulged in some energon all boundaries went down and we would laugh over the same things in the end.

However, I had to keep reminding myself that this couldn't last forever. One day or the other they would discover my true identity. I hadn't yet convinced Ratchet to finish installing armor and weaponry systems, nor to remove the EMP generator. Time was ticking quickly. I couldn't keep the ruse up forever, something was liable to happen one of these days.

That day, it turned out was today.

I was in the middle of a curious game called poker, which I had exceptional skill in, being that I was an adept liar. I currently had the twins up double their energon stash, and Bumblebee had already folded. Jazz and Prowl were hanging in tightly, refusing to back down from my winning streak, and Ironhide had long stopped caring, preferring to watch from the sidelines as he indulged in some high grade himself. Had I known I would be sitting here with my mortal enemies ENJOYING myself…

Best not to think about it.

It was then as I pulled a card out of my hand, that I felt the twinge within my spark that declared something was not right. Concern for my well-being immediately washed through me. I had been stable for months now, why the sudden glitch? Distracted, I blinked then lifted my head sharply the same time a communications announcement blared over the speaker.

"All stations report! We have incoming!"

A cold feeling clutched my spark, as at the same time, I received a sudden flash of insight. Something was wrong. I felt… a chilling sense of foreboding. In my mind's eye I could clearly see two figures descending at a high rate of speed right towards the base. I shook my head, puzzled. Why…? How did I know this? It had to be a hallucination.

Everyone moved at once. I didn't hesitate as I rushed to the control room, the only room I had permission to occupy in times of crisis at this point, as my usefulness was critical in situations as these. Red Alert didn't even glance my way as I burst in, already fast upon updating everyone. However, it really was unnecessary. I knew with one glance who was fast approaching the base. Abruptly I knew there was not a thing wrong with ME. THEY were running from something, and coming in far too fast for any error in maneuvering. I felt a strange feeling inhabit me, a feeling of dread.

"Stand by. Do not fire unless fired upon. Remain in position until we determine the nature of their arrival. Do we have identities?"

"Negative, sir, they're still out of sensor range." Red Alert replied to Optimus' question. "Decepticon signatures is all we know."

But I knew who they were. My spark fluttered wildly with a sudden uncharacteristic pulse of panic. I put a hand out to the Security Officer. Don't fire on them. Wait to see what they want first. I suggested. Primus, this was going to be complicated.

"They probably want you, buddy boy." Muttered the mech. "Keep forgetting your one of them."

Abruptly at that moment, a communications came in through open channels. "Amnesty!" The voice cried urgently. "We surrender! Hold your fire! You granted Amnesty to our comrade, grant us the same!"

My spark surged at the pleading tone. It was completely uncharacteristic of the normally calm blue seeker. What were they fleeing that would send such a desperate signal out? The answer was fairly obvious as I silently pleaded for Thundercracker to shut up and not say another word. Curse Ratchet for not installing my long-distance communications array! But that wasn't my only problem at the moment. Red Alert glanced my way, and it was then that I realized this was going to be trouble, one way or the other.

The next words sealed my fate.

"Where is he!? Where is Starscream!? We need to talk to him!"

I felt the energon run cold in my valves.

Oh Frag. Not good.

Red Alert's head snapped in my direction, his optics wide and focused on me with unhidden shock. He had figured it out, though the others had not yet connected the dots.

"Stand down your weapons." Came the clear order over the communications frequency from none other than Optimus Prime himself. "You are mistaken, we do not have Starscream in our custody."

"You're wrong!" Came the same desperate voice. "I dropped him off myself! I KNOW he's here! We need help now!"

It was then I realized WHY.

I had never explored the eccentricities of bonds before, having never been emotionally close enough to anyone in order to form one. I knew of the different kinds that existed, though my wing mates were the last two mechs I had ever thought I would develop that close of a friendship with to form a team bond. I had purposely kept myself apart from everyone else to avoid this exact situation, yet it seemed since my fall from grace I had not managed to escape this unique situation after they had saved my life. There was nothing in the world that could prevent gratitude from warming my normally cold spark. It seemed this situation had changed me more than I cared to admit to myself. Still the realization didn't stop me from reacting. Anger or not for this strange development, I was NOT about to abandon them when they needed me. I would not owe anyone my life. I didn't even care that I startled the soldiers in the hallways as I slid sideways down the corridor, bolting for the entrance with all the speed my repaired legs could muster. Ratchet had done a fine work fixing the mismatched length, bringing my optics back to 100 capacity, and repairing all my critical functions. Additionally, I was thankful not to have armor weighing me down, as I practically flew out the entrance, startling those standing guard as I bolted like a streak of silver towards the two figures crouched in the sand before me, weapons from dozens of soldiers trained on them.

With luck I could make it to them before someone remembered the fragging EMP pulser implanted in my chest. Otherwise this was going to be a short trip.

Thundercracker's optics lifted sharply to stare my way as I slid to a stop directly in front of him. I saw shock registering on his face at my appearance, and momentarily reminded myself that I must appear in horrible condition, considering I lacked weapons, armor and wings, and sported several ugly scars across my visage in addition to color shifted optics. However, I felt a strange surge in my spark as I arrived, recognition flashing through his optics as he realized it was me. The Autobots were the last thing in our minds at this point. The rest could frag themselves, but this was my duty not only as their commander, but as their...friend.

Skywarp was in bad shape. One wing was torn in half, the other missing. Energon was splattered all over his black and violet frame, and there were numerous gashes and blasts littering his body, half welded together with what appeared to be a rough patch job to keep him from bleeding out. I recognized Thundercracker's work immediately, having been the recipient of his patch-jobs before. But it wasn't the low energon levels that concerned me. It was the dying spark that was sputtering into nothingness the more clicks passed. Primus only knew how he'd gotten so fragged up with his teleportation power usually aiding his escape from such injuries… unless he hadn't seen the attack coming. However, I didn't have to ask to know what was going to happen if we didn't do something.

I suppose it was fortunate that I understood a little something about spark mechanics, and given our newly forged team bond, I figured what the frag, this COULD work. I'd heard of weirder things happening.

I dug my fingers into Skywarp's torn chassis and wrenched my wing mate's cockpit off without caring what damage I did to it. I wrenched my own chassis wide open to the elements without hesitation gesturing Thundercracker to do the same, and I could feel the brilliant blue glow of his own spark being exposed as he complied. As one, we moved, Thundercracker placing Skywarps' hand directly above his spark, his hand positioning above mine, as mine hovered above Skywarp's dying spark, forming a three way connection. I ignored the shouts of warning around us, as I braced myself for the shock I knew would come.

It came with a bright crackling glow as we three were linked together as the connection was joined. The flow of power was white-hot and painful, a reminder of the death nearing our brother. Thoughts, emotions, memories suddenly slammed together in a flood of confused motion. I could see the pursuit that had driven them here, their secret in hiding me having been what had prompted the attack on my wing mate. I had no time for guilt, however. For a moment, everything burned hot, the intensity of the connection strong and vibrant as our thoughts merged, overlapping with the urging intensity to our brother not to give in. At first, I thought we were too late, as the pain intensified as I could feel his spark stuttering. Then, as our link strengthened, his awareness joined ours as he became conscious of our efforts to save him, and slowly his spark surged stronger. As we watched, the glow brightened to a blinding nova of light sparking between our three life-forces, energy crackling brilliantly in the connected cycle, before Skywarp's hand twitched in Thundercraker's, and pulled back. The light died away, leaving dancing spots of blackness before my optics, and leaving me feeling drained, both from the energy loss and the emotion of nearly having lost my wing mate. Dim red optics flickered back on beneath us, as Skywarp stared upwards alive and spark-strong, rejuvenated by the jump given by his two wing mates. However, stabilizing his spark hadn't fixed the damage to his body… he still needed urgent medical care.

I let out a shaky sigh, and sat back a bit, realizing suddenly how quiet it was. My optics shifted back to the Auotbots surrounding us, weapons trained on the three of us, wary disbelief in their gazes. Well they hadn't fired yet... "Impossible." Murmured an astounded Ratchet, positioned beside Optimus Prime as the leader regarded me impassively. "I've never seen anything like it."

I didn't pull away, knowing that I was deep in the Pit now. But it didn't matter anymore. I felt an odd sense of peace within me. It was strange… I hadn't known that the three of us had ever been this closely connected, though I suppose I should have expected it. We had worked together for a very long time and trained as the Seekers in one complete unit. It made sense, even if we had not been directly aware of it before, we had somehow still known that our immaterial bond linked us as brothers in soul as well as spirit. Still, underneath the relief and warmth pulsing from the charged electricity we had shared, my CPU questioned the hows and whys of what we'd just done, saving our brethren's life… The scientist part of me begged to analyze it.

Unfortunately, it also spelled disaster, despite having just saved Skywarp from certain early termination, I now found myself ironically facing the same situation. It was time to face the truth. Slowly, I rose to my feet and turned to face the Autobot leader, shoulders square, head high. I would not beg for my life, nor defend myself. I was proud of who and what I was, and it shone in my optics defiantly, even as weapons trained their targeting beams on my silver protoform. Still, I didn't break contact with Optimus' gaze. I knew he wouldn't eliminate me for he was too soft, still the doubt remained seeing how steady Autobot cannons remained trained on my chassis. The proverbial cat was out of the bag… but I had known one day it would happen. Now that it had, I was not about to back down like a coward as I had with Megatron. The tyrant had taken that fear with him when he'd tried to permanently offline me. I would not be intimidated any more.

Optimus seemed to be considering the situation, for his optics shifted back to Thundercracker who was still protectively holding Skywarp, watching the scene impassively. He had made no motion to activate his weapons. Finally, he spoke in a quiet voice. "Take them into custody. Ratchet, deal with the injured. The others are to be individually locked up in separate cells for now. When you finish stabilizing Skywarp's injuries, I want you to focus on repairing Starscream's vocal processors. I want him capable of speaking in his defense."

Ratchet shot me a narrow glance, but oddly enough it held no venom in his blue stare. Again, suspicions flashed across my processor. How much had the medic truly known this whole time, and how much of it had he shared with Optimus? "Yes sir."

And without so much as another word, I was led unceremoniously back into the base, courtesy of a very angry tactician's watchful eye. I gave him no grief. It was pointless in any case, as any cheek would merely get myself in further slag than I was. Therefore, I entered the cell without a fuss, and turned as the energon spiked bars were ignited, before I settled myself in a sitting position in the corner, and waited.

It didn't take long, as my private comm. crackled. 'Screamer?

I'm here.

You look like slag. I barely recognized you.

It looks worse than it is, TC. I replied with a tinge of amusement. Considering the status I was in when you left me in their care, I have come quite a long way.

Still… your wings. And you think you're taking the 'pretend to join the Autobots' bit slightly too far with those blue optics?

I know. They don't have the parts or schematics to fix them properly. If I'd asked for a color change they'd have laughed in my face.

I'm sorry.

Don't be. If it weren't for your help, I would have shaken hands with Primus by now.

I'm glad you're alive at least. I wasn't sure you still were or not. But when we got closer…

I know. I sent quietly. I could sense the two of you as well.

So what the frag happened to us? I've never felt anything like that… It was weird. I'm still not sure WHAT we did.

Seems we're stuck with each other. I sent bitterly. But as much confidence as I portrayed to him, I was not certain it was as simple as a team bond. That was what concerned me so much. The feeling I had experienced was still there beneath the surface now that I knew what to look for… it was a warm pulse that felt like a reassuring presence in the back of my mind. I could sense the both of them there, as if they were a part of me. I'd never heard of such a thing happening. A spark bond between friends and comrades was rare, but it happened now and then. The Twins had a different kind of bond though on a similar level from what I understood. They were brothers, sparked as one and with a bond that knit them closer together than even mates. It was different from a spark bond formed between lovers, this was on a separate plane. It was a bond of closeness, of camaraderie. But no such spark bond had the ability to jump-start another's spark, to my knowledge. And I had never imagined that it would have happened between the three of us. Sure, we'd worked together, but the other two had always seemed irritated and irked at me half the time. However, they had shown me their loyalty in saving my life… perhaps there was more to this than lay on the surface. My head spun at the possibilities and questions. Ratchet HAD mentioned something different about my spark… did it have anything to do with this? A shiver ran down my spine and I made the decision to think this over later. I pushed the dilemma aside to focus on more pressing issues.

What in Primus' name are you two slag-heads DOING here?!

Unlucky us got royally fragged. Somehow Megatron found out that we helped save you, and that you might not be as dead as he thought. He doesn't know where you are though, thank Primus. Anyway, you can guess the rest. There was a brief pause. He's gotten more unstable since you left.

Is that even possible?

Trust me, it is. He's doing all kinds of crazy slag. We're not the first he's banished since your 'death'. Don't think we'll be the last either. He was ranting and raving and throwing tantrums every day… never in a good mood. He even trashed the communications room and then made us fix it.

Figures. Once a megalomaniac, always a megalomaniac.

You should talk.

Shut up.

The Autobots seemed surprised out there. Why?

Perhaps because they didn't know who I really was. I shared bitterly. I thought it smarter they didn't know.

So who were you going as?

I paused. The topic of my missing friend was an extremely touchy and sore one for myself, and they knew better thank to ask about him by now. They had not flown with him, nor known him… but they knew of him from my experiences, my memories I had shared through the years. I mentally sighed and decided it wasn't important whether they knew or not. Skyfire.

There was a pause. Wow. Ballsy.

Shut up.

You're slagged now.

So are you.

Maybe so, but at least we're slagged together.

I suppose I can take some comfort in that. I admitted with a grimace. Oddly, I didn't feel that distressed about our situation. I was merely glad that Skywarp would live. The rest would come as it may.

Would you two shut up? Slag, a mech can't recharge in peace anymore.

I smiled. Speak of the devil.

It was good to have friends again. Friends… yes…. They were.

But what the slag had I just gotten the three of us into?