Wow, I bet you all thought I died and this story along with me. Well, I didn't die…but my mother did, and, all emotional issues aside, you would not believe the amount of work that results when your only surviving parent dies and you're the only person available to take care of things in the aftermath. I certainly wouldn't have believed the work involved. Yikes.
But, things are sort of done now, with just a few loose ends here and there that for the moment don't require my immediate attention. So, that means that for the first time in months, I have some time that's truly mine. And when that happens, fic generally happens.
And I've been working on this one, mostly. Namely, it is now all in third person. And some of the chapters that I have been less than happy with have had a bit of a rewrite. So, once I post this chapter, I'll be going back and updating most of the previous chapters I've posted here, although I should say that there's nothing different enough that if you've read this far you'll need to re-read or anything. And I rewrote the ending for like the eighth time because I keep second-guessing myself. ("No, that's too ambiguous…No, that's not ambiguous enough…Nope, too happy…OK, not happy enough…No, that's too mushy…Wait! That's not enough mush!…OK, that's a good level of mush and a good level of happy, but WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING OVER THERE?" And so forth.)
And I cleaned up this chapter, too, putting it into third person and adding a bit of stuff to what I'd already written and deleting other stuff, such that it evolved into something much less about pseudo-smut that would be largely a replay of the first chapter and more about developing the relationship between my two little playthings here. :) The result is…a really long chapter, I'm afraid. But I don't want to split it up, and I figure that I owe it to y'all, anyway. So if anyone's still waiting to read more of this, I thank you for your patience.
13: Revelation
Swoop had anticipated a long and drawn-out war of words with Ratchet. She had thought that there would be much outrage and yelling and possibly a few death threats aimed at a certain Seeker and perhaps even at herself. But in the end, Ratchet had surprised her. After poring over the research that she'd done and the results of the tests and simulations that she'd run, and after contemplating the situation on his own, Ratchet had independently reached the very same conclusion that Swoop had reached, much as he didn't at all like the conclusion. Swoop learned as they'd spoken, calmly and rationally, that he had even thought of speaking to her about the very same idea that she was bringing to him; he just hadn't yet worked up the courage to broach the subject by the time that she'd shown up in his office to talk to him.
To make things easier for Swoop, given her own rapidly deteriorating condition, Ratchet had quietly arranged things, speaking with Optimus Prime and, more dauntingly, with Wheeljack about the situation. He had even volunteered the use of his quarters for the occasion. Swoop's were too otherwise populated with large and very overprotective siblings, the medbay wasn't an appropriate environment for such a thing, being rather too public, and there were no otherwise unoccupied quarters available. When she'd half-heartedly protested, Ratchet had pointedly assured Swoop that he was quite happy to bunk with Wheeljack for however long it took. Meaning, Swoop suspected, that he was volunteering for the perilous duty of distracting Wheeljack from what she was doing, and that kind of distraction possibly involved actually sitting on him. Although he understood things a little better since they'd had their talk, Wheeljack still didn't at all share the level of understanding that Swoop had been surprised to discover that she shared with Ratchet.
It felt rather odd to Swoop to be heading to Ratchet's quarters in order to accomplish the particular task at hand, but beggars couldn't be choosers, and beggars she and Starscream most certainly were. It had taken two days for the effects of Ratchet's delaying-tactic treatment to wear off on Starscream, but once it had, it was clear that the other "treatment" couldn't be delayed, not for him. He was like a caged and feral animal, out of control and complete with an instinct-driven potential to be dangerous to himself and others because of it.
Swoop was utterly amazed that he'd been able to hold out as long as he had, for literally months. She had no idea how he'd managed it; it had been less than a week since she'd started to feel the imprint's effects again, and she already felt ready to start climbing walls. It was likely that the rapidity of the onset of the imprint's effect on her was merely a reflection of Starscream's simmering and long-term urgency, but she still had to admire his restraint.
Now, as she headed toward Ratchet's quarters, where Starscream awaited her, Swoop was trying to keep to a walk, trying to appear dignified in her decidedly undignified state, trying not to run frantically to him. Her body was feverishly heated and already given to shivering. Her breath came in short pants, and there were occasional growls mixed in, too, and there was a clawing, itching feeling all over that made her want to leap entirely out of her own body in order to escape it. And she could feel Starscream, could feel the echoed want in him, so very strong, stronger in him than in her due to the circumstances that had led them to this place, to the situation that they mutually faced.
Oh yes, she remembered this well, indeed. The only difference was that this time her body wasn't changing and in deep discomfort that often leapt across the threshold into intense pain because of it. Nor was her spark desperately hungry for energy because she wasn't in cycle this time but merely echoing Starscream's need. This time, for her, there was just the want. Scorching, undeniable, irresistible want. But she didn't have long to wait now, as she turned down the corridor on which Ratchet's quarters were situated.
Swoop unlocked the door to Ratchet's quarters, slipped quickly inside, and then turned to lock the door again so that they wouldn't be disturbed. And then she turned to face Starscream, finding him huddled in a corner. He stared at her hungrily, his eyes dimmed to a blood-red crimson and glittering dangerously, but he was obviously uncertain, as well. It puzzled Swoop for a moment before she realized that he was likely trying to decide if she was really there or if she was merely something that his fevered imagination had conjured up to torment him, as it had done, so he'd told her, over and over again during the past couple of months.
It occurred to Swoop that their positions were somewhat reversed from the last time they'd had this sort of encounter. Then, she'd been the one barely holding herself together, and he'd arrived and approached her in a somewhat more composed state, although that composure had rapidly abandoned him. The difference was that this time, neither of them wanted to fight what was going to happen between them. This time, Swoop wanted nothing more than to leap on Starscream, and—
But Starscream leaped on Swoop first, and in the next nanosecond Swoop found herself lifted as if she weighed no more than a feather and then crushed up against the wall behind her. The impact wasn't gentle, and it thrummed and rattled uncomfortably through her body, particularly through her more-delicate wings. Nor was he gentle, immediately setting to nuzzling, nibbling, and then biting along her jaw line and down into the juncture of her neck and her shoulder, feverishly betting that they were just as sensitive on her new body as they had been on her old one. Judging from the sounds that Swoop made in response, his bet had paid off; her soft moans were very quickly devolving into the needful, animal snarls that had sent shivers racing through him before and were doing so again.
Unlike their previous encounter, no words were exchanged between them, for none were needed. There were only sensations and the wordless sounds uttered in reaction to them, sounds that quickly increased in volume and urgency and, on Swoop's part, animalism. Unlike their previous encounter, there was no hesitation on either side, and no need to move slowly or to be cautious or gentle in order to avoid spooking each other, Swoop in particular. Swoop's last coherent, rational thought was that Starscream, in his current state wouldn't last long at all…and neither, she realized with something like chagrin, would she. After that, she wasn't thinking anymore.
Their mouths, busy against each other for long minutes, mutually exploring and tasting and teasing, finally came together in a jarring, brutal, bruising kiss that didn't end for a long, long time; it merely shifted nuances on occasion, alternating between exploring and biting. Swoop wrapped her legs tightly around Starscream for balance and leverage, using them to pull him to her and then crush him against her as closely as possible, freeing him from having to support her weight with his hands. He immediately put his hands to far better use, setting them to roam all over Swoop's body, stroking and caressing and occasionally digging boldly into armor seams, meticulously exploring each of her new curves and angles. Starscream broke the long, biting kiss then, nuzzling insistently into the side of Swoop's neck, alternating between biting down into it and exploring it with his tongue, just as he was exploring other parts of her with his hands, wringing sensation from Swoop such that she felt paralyzed. Or rather, it was if she'd suddenly forgotten why it was necessary to move as opposed to staying right where she was forever and ever, drowning in sensation, in him, as she listened to the grunts and snarls and low, guttural growls that she knew, distantly, that she was making but that she hardly recognized as her own.
After long and deeply blissful moments, it dimly occurred to Swoop that she should be reciprocating in some manner, and with a mighty effort she willed herself to move, leaning forward slightly so that she could drape her arms over Starscream's shoulders. She toyed with the juncture of his wings and his back, the most sensitive area of his body that she knew of, scratching and digging into the area and then palliating the rough treatment with more soothing caresses before going back to scratching and digging. At the same time, she craned her head down a bit so that she could slowly and meticulously trace with her tongue the vents along the side of his head that she could reach, moaning and breathing heavily into them as she did so.
In response to her combined assault, Starscream let out a strangled groan; she'd never before done both of those things to him at the same time. No one ever had. The sensations that her efforts wrought, combined with the soft, continuous snarling that she was emitting from somewhere deep down in her chest, were too much. As sensation cascaded through him, Starscream let out an almost-distressed cry as his knees buckled suddenly, sending them both to the floor in an ungraceful tangle of limbs and wings. Swoop yelped as she found herself unexpectedly falling, but she was not displeased when she found herself on top of Starscream in the aftermath. Growling ferally, she took quick advantage of the situation and straddled him, pinning his arms to the floor beneath him.
Starscream knew, distantly, that he could throw her off of himself if he wanted to, if only because he greatly outweighed her. But he didn't want to throw her off, didn't want to move even a centimeter, certainly not once her mouth began to work feverishly against him. Not once she'd established with medical precision multiple interface connections between them without him even realizing what she was doing until sensation began to cycle across the connections she'd made. Not once she'd then mindlessly torn a sizeable hole into the front of his shoulder with her teeth, and her tongue had crept its way into the gash, teasing the little shorted circuits that she'd created. Half-pained/half-pleasured surges tingled through Starscream, and he moaned in response; the sensations crashed into Swoop and she squeal-screeched in approval, redoubling her efforts. She let go of his arms then and raked clawed fingers down his chest, his canopy. The protesting squeal of metal against metal did not deter her as she scratched harshly against flat armor planes and dug into seams, knowing exactly where his most sensitive areas were and exploiting them mercilessly, such that Starscream soon found himself moaning pitifully and squirming helplessly beneath her, and the echoes of his pleasure were in return roiling through her, pushing her ever closer to the precipice.
Once his arms were free, though, Starscream could retaliate. He dug his fingers into Swoop's back and then shifted his attention to her wings, tracing their new, intricate fold seams gently at first and then, abandoning caution, curiously digging into them. In response, Swoop's entire wing involuntarily heaved in a mighty twitch. And she howled at the unexpected sensation as he'd never heard her howl before. And the resulting flood of sensation that cascaded from Swoop to Starscream and then cycled between them, amplified by the connections, sent them both crashing over the edge, simultaneously, so that neither could say who had climaxed first. And neither really cared.
When Starscream came to his senses he knew not how long later, it was to the sensation of Swoop tending with infinite care to the wound that she had created in his shoulder. She was kneeling next to him, bent over him, carefully cleaning and then roughly patching the gash to protect it from any foreign particles; Earth's dirt and dust could be surprisingly detrimental to their inner workings. Keeping himself still, Starscream surreptitiously and silently watched her work, taking in the focused expression on her face, the way that her brow furrowed as she concentrated on what she was doing. She was biting down into her lower lip, probably unconsciously, as she worked, and Starscream found it strangely endearing. And he appreciated her efficient gentleness, the rock-steady carefulness of her fingers as she worked. She caused no pain whatsoever as she repaired the damage that she'd caused; Ratchet had taught her well, indeed. When she finished and noticed that Starscream had emerged from his stupor, she gave him a shamefaced look and whispered a deeply remorseful, "I'm so sorry, Starscream. I…I can't believe I did that."
Starscream winced as he experimentally moved the shoulder in question, but he smiled at the same time.
"Don't be sorry, Swoop," he said quietly, his voice shaking and scratching around the words. He pushed himself weakly up into a sitting position and then shifted to lean back against the wall as he added, "It was worth it. That was…intense."
"Mmmm," she murmured in agreement as she put aside her medical supplies. "It was," she added as she leaned into him and began to pepper little apologetic kisses around the patched gash in his shoulder. "Quick," she murmured between pecks, "but very…intense."
Her kisses slowly began to migrate away from his shoulder then, began to morph into something less than soothing and closer to inflaming. Starscream closed his eyes, leaning limply back against the wall, simply enjoying her ministrations. Eventually, Swoop slithered her way into his lap, straddling him and then settling herself comfortably as her lips found his. The kiss was slow this time, gentle, even tender now that desperation had eased for both of them. Starscream wrapped his arms around her waist, ignoring the faint protest from his shoulder at the movement, pulling her closer to him but gently so, so that she could escape if he had spooked her. But she only snuggled even closer into him, deepening the kiss as she did so, her tongue finding and teasing his. Starscream found himself murmuring appreciatively, and Swoop smiled against him, her hands moving to run slowly down his chest, fingers tickling and teasing along the edges of his canopy.
It was then, as she toyed with the catch that secured his canopy, that Starscream realized that in order to completely "repeat the experiment," as it were, he would need to give her another infusion of spark energy. She wasn't in cycle at the moment; the extra energy would harmlessly dissipate through her systems, but it was likely to be exactly what was required in order to sever the imprint between them, if it could be severed at all. That was their purpose here, after all, pleasurable though it was otherwise. And Starscream would be able to give Swoop the infusion, certainly; the now-familiar pain-pressure that was building in his spark told him this. Still, something was nagging at him, buzzing frantically in the back of his mind. He mentally poked at whatever it was, warily, and then he recognized it: It was empathy, and it was disturbing.
Meanwhile, Swoop had apparently reached the same conclusion that Starscream had reached. Never breaking the passionate but still-gentle kiss between them, she already had his canopy opened, his spark chamber exposed, and she was working on her own. Starscream broke the kiss between them then, suddenly grabbing her hands to still them. She frowned at him curiously, her brow furrowed, as he studied her face apprehensively.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked quietly.
"Sure that it will work, you mean?" she asked in return, confused by his question and his sudden and apparent uncertainty.
"No," he said, shaking his head. "No, I know that there are no guarantees. I mean, are you sure that we should do it at all?"
"If we don't," Swoop answered reasonably, her brow furrowing more deeply, "then I doubt that the imprint will break. That's what we want. Isn't it?" she added, and Starscream could have sworn that there was a measure of hesitation in her voice.
The answer that immediately and irrationally leaped to Starscream's mind was a loud and fervent "No!" but he answered, quietly, "Yes."
"Well, then…?" Swoop prompted, gently and meaningfully pulling her hands out of his grasp. She returned to her task then, and as the mellow golden light from her spark washed over him, Starscream voiced his real concern.
"I don't want to hurt you," he confessed quietly, quickly, before he thought the better of it.
Swoop stopped what she was doing and stared at him, surprised and speechless for a moment because of it.
"I know what it feels like, now," Starscream explained while she stared at him. "And I don't want you to have to go through that. Not for me."
Swoop smiled at him then, genuinely touched. She caressed his face tenderly, appreciatively, as she gently said, "It isn't just for you, Starscream. Remember? And I'm going to have to go through an infusion probably hundreds of times in my life. Once more isn't going to make much of a difference." She leaned into him then, kissed him quickly but tenderly. Then she rested her forehead against his and added softly, "It's…very nice of you to be concerned, but it's all right. Really."
Starscream nodded, not entirely convinced, but resigned to his task nevertheless. Swoop settled herself comfortably in his lap, facing him, equally resigned and trying not to show the apprehension that she felt, especially after Starscream's curious confession. She had almost taken him up on his offer, out of pure self-interest, not really wanting to experience the pain that she knew that she was about to suffer. But she was convinced that if the imprint between them could be broken at all, then an infusion would be the thing that would accomplish the severance, and this strengthened her resolve to follow through with the original plan. She signaled her readiness with a nod at Starscream. He reached out to her, and unexpectedly pulled her closer to him, wrapping one arm around her waist.
"Hold on to me," he said to her seriously. "If you need to."
Swoop nodded, smiling her appreciation of the offer, as Starscream whispered an advance apology and then made the connection between their spark chambers.
This time, Swoop had actual practical experience rather than just a clinical idea of what to expect that had been gleaned from reading. Because of that, the pain didn't take her quite so much by surprise and didn't seem quite as bad…but it was still excruciating. She held tightly to Starscream as the pain assaulted her, buffeted her. Her arms clenched tightly and reflexively around him, fingers digging roughly into him, perhaps hurting him, but if so he didn't offer a complaint. And when the energy transfer was completed and the pain finally subsided, what seemed to Swoop to be hours later, she sagged against Starscream, panting and trembling violently, whimpering quietly, helplessly. Sympathetically, and ever so gently, Starscream soothed her just as he had when they'd done this before, except that this time he held her close as he ran his hands over her body in gentle caresses and murmured soothing words and comforting sounds at her.
It seemed to Starscream that it took a long time for Swoop to recover, longer than it had before, but a more rational part of him realized that this was likely because of the empathy that he was feeling now, now that he knew first-hand the level of pain that she had just experienced. Eventually, Swoop raised her head from where it had come to rest on his shoulder. Sitting back a little, but still nestled across his lap, she regarded him blearily.
"Are you all right?" Starscream asked her.
Swoop nodded absently and answered, "I will be."
"I'm sorry," he said.
She smiled faintly and gently prodded his patched shoulder.
"We're even now," she said lightly.
Starscream snorted and answered, "That was nothing."
"Not to me," Swoop replied seriously.
And then she was leaning into him, kissing him. Starscream at first held her as if he was afraid that she would break in the aftermath of the infusion, but he soon realized what she wanted, remembering what he had done before to make up for the pain that she had experienced from that initial infusion.
Starscream was all too happy to repeat the "treatment," hoping that it would make him forget this time as much as it made her forget.
"You are awfully cuddly," Starscream felt compelled to point out when they had once again regained their senses, his voice ragged.
Swoop was working at snuggling into him as closely as she could manage. She couldn't tell if he approved of her cuddliness or was disgusted by it, but he didn't move, so Swoop assumed that approval at least outweighed disgust for the moment. Or maybe it was just that he was too worn out to move. Either worked.
"I'm cold," Swoop informed him, nuzzling her face insistently into the shoulder that she hadn't damaged.
Starscream snorted disbelievingly.
"How can you possibly be cold after that?" he demanded to know.
Raising her head, Swoop looked up into his face.
"Remember back when all of this started?" she asked. "When you were trying to figure out the secrets of my wondrous armor?"
Starscream frowned deeply at the question, thinking that she was rather bizarrely changing the subject.
"Yes?" he answered, almost hesitantly, as if to humor the suddenly crazy person.
"Well, I'll let you in on some of its deepest, darkest secrets," Swoop grumbled. "It's really light. It's really strong. And it's way too efficient at dissipating heat. The hotter I get, the colder I am a few minutes later."
Starscream frowned for a moment, considering what she'd said. Then: "Well!" he crowed with a self-satisfied smirk. "I guess I should be flattered, then."
Swoop ceased her squirming long enough to aim a quizzical look at his face.
"What?" she asked, not following him.
"Given that you are currently doing your level best to climb inside my armor," Starscream answered with a wicked grin, "I can only conclude that I must have made you really hot."
Swoop glared at him and then she sighed in surrender, muttering, "Yes, well…Don't let it go to your head."
"Too late!" Starscream quipped. And then, as Swoop snorted exasperatedly and resumed her squirming, he sighed in annoyance and sat up, leaning back against the wall that was still behind them.
"Hey!" Swoop protested indignantly as he moved.
Further feeble protests issued from Swoop as Starscream yanked insistently at her, pulling her upright as well. And then he wordlessly tucked her against himself, her back to his front. And then he wrapped both of his arms and both of his legs around her. And Swoop abruptly stopped protesting, instead murmuring in appreciation and snuggling in to revel in the wrap-around warmth that he was offering to her.
"Do you think it worked?" Starscream murmured at her drowsily a moment later.
"Don't know," Swoop answered, equally drowsy but knowing exactly what he meant. "We'll need to run some scans…um, later."
And then, leaning comfortably back against Starscream, Swoop promptly passed out. And Starscream wasn't far behind her.
"I don't even know what that says," Swoop confessed with a languidly contented sigh. It was hours later, after a long, slow, and extremely enjoyable Round Three.
They had managed to clumsily stumble their way to Ratchet's berth this time, which was infinitely more comfortable than either the floor of Autobot Headquarters or the floor of an equatorial rain forest. Now, Swoop was snuggled up against Starscream again, basking reptile-like in his radiating warmth. She watched as he meditatively traced with one finger the golden symbols that spiraled down the field of lapis that was the top of her right forearm.
"If it says anything at all," Swoop added offhandedly. "If it isn't just random decoration or something, I mean."
Starscream looked at her, frowning quizzically, and his hand stilled.
"It isn't random decoration," he said quietly. He held her gaze levelly as he explained, "But I'm not surprised that you don't know what it says. I'm surprised that anyone here does know what it says, other than maybe Prowl, and I really can't imagine him having any…er, artistic input. Which is why I can't figure out how—"
"Snarl knows what it says," Swoop informed Starscream. At the deeply questioning look that Starscream gave her, she shrugged and answered, "Snarl has a thing for languages. I'm sure he told Sludge what to…er, write."
Starscream grunted noncommittally at that, but Swoop could tell that he was surprised. Perhaps impressed, even, just as he had been when she'd told him that it was Sludge who had designed the body that she was now wearing.
"This is a very old warrior dialect," Starscream informed her after a moment's silence. "I don't know how it was pronounced, so I can't speak it, but I can read it."
Swoop waited for him to do so, meanwhile appreciating the low, thoughtful quietness of his voice. It made her wonder if his characteristic nasal screech was a mere affectation or if it was only something that surfaced when he was stressed. At the moment, he was anything but stressed, his body warm and relaxed alongside hers.
"So?" she prompted after the silence between them lengthened to a point beyond her comfort level. Plus, she was intensely curious now. "What does it say?"
Starscream hesitated. For a moment, he went back to distractedly tracing the inlaid glyphs on her arm, and Swoop was forced to nudge him with a knee to get his attention again. When she did, he met her gaze only reluctantly and almost shyly.
"It says," he announced quietly, "'She who will restore.'" Then, reaching to gently grab her other arm, he laid it alongside its twin and added, "And this one says, 'She who will…redeem.'"
The pause before the last word was significant, and Starscream looked up again to meet Swoop's gaze, his expression deadly serious. Impulsively, she reached out and stroked his cheek, and he thoughtlessly leaned into the caress.
"Is that what you want, Starscream?" Swoop asked quietly of him, stroking a thumb gently over the seam of his cheek. Her narrowed, searching gaze did not stray from his. "To be redeemed?"
"Maybe," he said quietly, after a moment's thought. But then, suddenly and determinedly, he was moving, disentangling himself from Swoop and getting up off of the berth, putting some buffering distance between them. Swoop shivered, immediately missing the warmth of him against her and, leaning back against the wall at the head of the berth, she drew her knees into her chest, trying to hold in warmth as she watched Starscream pace a few laps of the room. "Then again," he added pointedly, halting his pacing and turning to face her, "maybe I don't think that I need to be. I thought that we were doing the right thing."
Swoop blinked at him, not following for a moment, but then she realized what he was talking about.
"Mmmm," she murmured with a nod. Then she added with biting sarcasm, "Because mass murder can't possibly be wrong."
Starscream scowled at that, his jaw clenching and his eyes narrowing.
"Do you have any idea we suffered because of her? What the populations of neighboring systems suffered?" he asked, quietly angry.
Swoop raised her chin at him, defiantly.
"Yes," she said honestly, bluntly. "Yes, I do. What she did to the warriors and…and to many others was wrong, all of it, and I won't defend any of it. But what you did, what all of you did… That was wrong, too, and if I could remember any of it or if I had any sort of real emotional attachment at all, and if I didn't actually agree that something needed to be done about her, I'd probably hate you for it. But even if she…my mother…had been the worst monster in the history of the universe, you destroyed children, Starscream. Innocents. A helpless infant."
Starscream gave her a penetrating look at that, his eyes suddenly narrowed more in thoughtfulness than in anger. He seemed to deliberate about something for a noticeable stretch of time, his head tilted slightly to one side as he regarded Swoop, as she stared back at him in quiet outrage that was fueled more by a lack of understanding than by moral insult. Then he sighed, his shoulders slumping as he moved to perch on the berth, sitting on the very edge of it, facing Swoop but not touching her, not quite.
"That wasn't supposed to happen, you know. At least, not to you," he clarified quietly. He gave her a surprisingly intense look that clearly communicated that he was trying to tell her something very important, but she had no clue what it was. "Eclipse wasn't…You weren't a target," Starscream clarified further when Swoop said nothing.
"Why the hell not?" Swoop asked, blinking at him, surprise making her both bold and frank. "Everyone else was!"
"Because," Starscream answered quietly, "the plan wasn't to doom our entire species. We were angry, enraged to the point of…of regicide, yes. And maybe you're right that we didn't go about things in the best way possible…but then again, you weren't really there, and…and you don't know about all of the...particulars. But whatever the case, we were not stupid."
Swoop frowned and opened her mouth to say something, but Starscream hurriedly spoke over her.
"You were an infant, as you said," he explained, his voice matter-of-fact. "The entire coup was deliberately planned to happen shortly after your birth, and whether or not it happened at all, at least at that particular time, entirely depended upon whether or not you were female."
Swoop could only blink at him for a long moment, stupidly. And then she declared, very intelligently, "I don't understand."
Starscream sighed.
"Megatron knew that he would need a…replacement for your mother, but he also knew that it couldn't be any of your sisters. They were all already too old, would understand and remember everything that had happened, and he knew that if he let any of them live, they would be nothing but trouble, uncooperative trouble, and he couldn't risk that. But then when your mother announced her latest pregnancy…"
"An infant," Swoop said as his voice trailed off, as she began to comprehend, "wouldn't remember anything. She would only know what she was told and would only learn what she was allowed to learn. And if she was the only surviving female," Swoop further realized, "then it was guaranteed that she would succeed when the time came…"
"Yes," Starscream answered quietly as Swoop's voice trailed off. "Exactly so. So if you had been male, we would have waited until the next time. But you were female. A blank, infant slate for Megatron to write on as he saw fit as you matured. And then, when you were fully mature, he could…use you…as he saw fit, too."
Swoop was silent for a long, long time after that, absorbing what Starscream had said, trying to decide whether or not to believe him. It did make sense, after all; one of the mysteries that surrounded the warrior uprising was the question of why Megatron had been willing to doom his own species' entire future for the sake of his cause. It seemed nonsensical and, for the most part, he was written off as insane for doing so, painted as concerned only about his own power, sparing not a thought for the future. But Swoop now realized that he hadn't been insane and that he had had what he had seen as a viable plan for the future, horrible as it might have been for her. Someone had merely foiled that plan, and Megatron had been muddling through ever since. It explained much.
"But in the end," Starscream finally, quietly said, as if he'd become uncomfortable with the silence, "you suffered a much better fate, Swoop. Consequences for our species aside, I should think that even death would have been preferable to becoming…What's the term? A 'brood mare?' But you didn't die. Someone just went to lengths to make it look like you did."
"Who?" Swoop asked immediately, almost reflexively.
"I don't know," Starscream answered. "Not for certain, at any rate. But I always thought that you were dead, and so I thought that that person was the insane one," he continued quietly. "That that was the person who doomed us, not Megatron. Not…ourselves."
"But?" Swoop prompted after he'd been quiet for a while, since the unspoken "but" hanging in his voice was glaringly obvious.
"But I was wrong," Starscream confessed quietly, bitterly, and Swoop knew that those particular words were very difficult for him to utter. He stared down at her arm as he added, "Instead he arranged it such that one day, some time in the future, you could indeed become…" He paused, reached out to run a hand down Swoop's forearm, and whispered, "'She who will restore.'"
Swoop stared at Starscream some more, searchingly now.
"You do know who it was," she decided. "Tell me," she demanded.
"I have only suspicions," Starscream answered guardedly and perhaps bitterly. "I doubt that I will be allowed the opportunity to confirm them."
"I'll confirm them for you," Swoop insisted flatly. "Tell me."
Starscream's eyes narrowed as he stared at her for long moments, obviously deliberating. Then:
"Think of the warriors who are amongst the Autobots now," he said, leaning toward Swoop conspiratorially. "Consider only those who were alive and present on Cybertron at the time of the revolt. Now, from amongst those few, consider who would be the most likely to recognize and capitalize on something so small but that would potentially have such an utterly devastating effect on Megatron and his plan."
"Prowl," Swoop blurted out, without even a second of hesitation.
"There's my clever girl," Starscream said, leaning even closer toward her so that he could tap the end of her nose with one finger, as one might a child. Swoop glared at him for the patronizing gesture as he continued, "I always suspected that he had done something at the time. He was…unhappy…with Megatron, even then. But I never confronted him about it because I wasn't sure what, if anything, he'd done, and even if I had been sure, there was no evidence of anything. And without evidence, Megatron would have dismissed anything that I had to say, especially if it was something about Prowl. But then when he left us, defected to Optimus Prime…"
"But Prowl wouldn't know how to remove someone's spark like that," Swoop pointed out, interrupting. "Would he?" she added uncertainly when it occurred to her that, really, she had no idea what Prowl might or might not know how to do. He was a complete enigma to her and always had been. He was so aloof and always seemed so forbidding that she habitually maintained a wide and wary distance from him, when it was possible to do so. Starscream knew him far better than she did, possibly better than any of the Autobots did, ironically enough.
"No," Starscream confirmed meanwhile. "No, he wouldn't. At least not that I know of. But that doesn't matter because it would have been easy enough to find and convince an accomplice who did know how to do that, particularly someone whom he knew wasn't really…"
Swoop watched Starscream's face curiously as his voice trailed off, but it was soon obvious that he wasn't going to finish his thought aloud. As he settled into a thoughtful silence, Swoop took to wondering if she would ever reach a point when nothing would surprise her, when she would know and understand everything about herself. It didn't seem possible because every time she thought she understood even just a small aspect of herself, another bomb fell and ripped everything apart again.
"Just when I think things can't possibly get any weirder," she muttered dispiritedly as she slumped against the wall behind her, folding her arms over her chest.
"Oh, there's all manner of weird here," Starscream gravely agreed. "You're a queen. I'm practically immortal and possibly eternally…uh, connected to you. And Prowl…Prowl might just be Jesus in disguise."
"What?" Swoop sputtered, laughing despite herself.
"Well, he might be your personal savior, anyway," Starscream asserted with a careless shrug.
Swoop just stared at him for a long, long moment after that.
"You're crazy," she decided.
"You have no idea," Starscream agreed, very seriously. "And it's a damned good thing for you that I am," he added, equally seriously, as his gaze held hers.
"Oh really?" she asked, blinking at him, nonplussed. "How so?"
"Because I had orders to kill you," he said, with a shrug that didn't entirely succeed at being flippantly casual. "And because I'm crazy, I didn't. Lucky you."
Swoop was surprised that he was bringing up that particular subject. Surprised and curious. He didn't seem inclined to elaborate, though, so:
"Why did you decide not to kill me, Starscream?" she asked of him directly. It was a question that had been burning in her mind for weeks, and even though she didn't expect Starscream to answer her at all, much less honestly, she still felt compelled to ask it of him. True to form, Starscream just continued to regard her steadily, an enigmatic half-smile on his dark face. Once a few moments had passed and Swoop realized that he wasn't going to answer her question, she added, only half-teasingly, "Don't tell me you were feeling reverent."
Starscream actually looked thoughtful as he considered that, and for a moment Swoop wondered if she'd hit the mark, all unintentionally. But then he was suddenly and unexpectedly moving to straddle her, effectively pinning her down, and shortly after that their faces were mere centimeters apart. His gaze was burning, and it held hers insistently. She couldn't look away if she tried.
And then Starscream asked, "And what if I said that I was, my queen?"
The question was asked in quiet and perfect and surprising earnest, perhaps even in deference. It was certainly the first time that Starscream had used the traditional honorific, but Swoop couldn't tell whether it was sarcastic or genuine,
And impulsively, in lieu of answering him, Swoop closed the minute distance between them, kissing him deeply and thoroughly, snaking her arms into the narrow spaces between his neck and his shoulder vents in order to pull him closer against her. When they came up for air, long minutes later, she answered breathlessly, "I wouldn't believe you."
"Mmmm," Starscream murmured in return, and then he kissed her. When that kiss came to its eventual and natural conclusion, more long moments later, he asked, "You don't think you're worthy of reverence?"
"I'm worthy," Swoop answered with an impudent grin. "I just don't think that you're capable."
"Is that so?" Starscream asked indignantly, narrowing his eyes at her in such a way that they seemed to radiate a deeper crimson.
"It is," she answered him, nodding gravely.
"I'll have you know that I'm capable of many things that might surprise you," he insisted.
"Oh, really?" Swoop lazily replied, amused. She raised a hand in the scant distance between their bodies so that she could run one teasing finger lightly down the center of his canopy. She smirked at the involuntary shudder that the gesture wrung from him.
"Really," Starscream confirmed, regarding her seriously and in sudden challenge, his smoldering crimson gaze locked with her liquid, golden one.
"Prove it, then," she growled, all sudden intensity herself as she pulled him fully against her, quickly enough that he had no time to react or resist, even going so far as to wrap a leg around him to prevent his escape. "Revere me, warrior," she commanded in a breathy and urgently demanding whisper right against his audio.
And Starscream proceeded to do exactly as she'd commanded.
Next time: Prowl, you got some splainin' to do! Then again, Swoop might wish she'd never asked…