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Interlude II

Starscream didn't move after waking up. Instead, he listened, and figured he wasn't in the alley anymore. Soft whirrs and beeps in the background, air being cycled through tetrajet vents. Someone had found him?

He carefully onlined his optics. Something blue moved in the corner of his vision. He scrambled upright and backwards until he hit a wall.

"You're awake," the blue figure said, but didn't move any further.

Starscream struggled to keep his vents under control. Seeker. This was a Seeker, with a rather sad look on his face, and it was just blue decal. Otherwise he was gray.

They were in a medbay of sorts.

"Why am I here?"

"I stumbled over you, in an alley just around the corner from here. You don't remember you tried to rip my head off, do you."

Starscream shook his head.

"Anyway, you passed out and I brought you here. Arcweld is this sector's medic."

Medic. Starscream looked down on himself, covered in blue scratches. There was no way the medic could have missed what – it was his fault and if word got around everyone would think –

He started to tremble.

"Kiddo." The Seeker reached out to him but stopped halfway. "We'll kill him for you. We've been watching him for a while, and now that we have evidence…"

Starscream shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it."

"You don't have to. The paint streaks are telling enough. We'll make him pay. I promise."

"Why? I- he said he couldn't help it when someone as… pretty as me was giving him looks."

"Were you giving him looks?"

"I don't know," Starscream whispered.

"Do you even know what he meant when he said that?"

Starscream shook his head.

"You're giving someone 'looks' when you find him attractive and want him to notice you."

"Oh," Starscream said. He hadn't wanted to be noticed by anyone, he'd just wanted to finish his punishment detail and return to his dorm. Besides, he had no idea what 'attractive' meant.

"You're what? Twelve vorns old?"

"Hmm."

"It's not in your programming to flirt yet. So he only accused you of giving him looks to make you feel like it was your fault."

"He did?" It made some skewed kind of sense. If Starscream thought it was his fault, he wouldn't blab.

"Yeah. They do that, and most believe it, sadly. Look, I can't stay long. I wasn't here, if they ask. Arcweld is going to give you a datapad. You look like a bright kid, you'll be able to figure it out."

The datapad contained vids with lessons on hand-to-hand combat, which Seekers weren't taught, and some texts on something called guerilla warfare. The texts were fascinating, and served as a nice distraction.

Two orns later, the military police asked Starscream about the guard who'd overseen him for a punishment. Starscream told them that the mech had beaten him up and left him, and then he'd woken up in Arcweld's medbay. He also asked why they wanted to know, and they said the guard had vanished.

He never turned up again.

xxx

"I'm told you've petitioned for better quarters," the quartermaster said, looking at Starscream over steepled fingers.

"Yes, sir."

"Why?"

"I think I've stated so sufficiently in the request form. Sir."

The quartermaster frowned. Seekers shouldn't really use big words like 'sufficiently'. Only Starscream had made a habit of sneaking off to the library whenever he had a joor to spare. He read anything he could find and was teaching himself handwriting.

One orn, he'd make it out of here. The Academies were offering scholarships if you could pass their tests. You only had to study hard. At his current rate, it would take Starscream another fifty vorns, if not more, but he was going to make it.

The quartermaster harrumphed. "Don't get prissy with me. Now… I'm inclined to actually grant the request, but I might like some… reimbursement."

"How much?" TC and Warp had helped to save up for this.

"Eight hundred."

What? He'd asked around, current rates ranged from two fifty to four hundred. "Two hundred," Starscream offered.

"I didn't say I was open to haggling."

"Then I'll have to withdraw the request for the time being, sir." Eventually, the sector would be assigned a new quartermaster. Those mechs never stayed around too long.

"Not so fast… trine leader." The quartermaster stood up and came walking around his desk, stopped behind Starscream. "Now. I'd accept… other forms of compensation." A hand landed on Starscream's aft.

Starscream had the mech against the wall, whimpering over a broken wrist, before he even realized what he'd been doing.

"Don't touch me. And if I ever get word of you having wandering hands, I'll make sure you'll pull a vanishing act."

The quartermaster applied for a new post soon after.

xxx

Primus, his head hurt, and there was a rotten feeling in his fuel tanks. Starscream groaned and onlined his optics.

Unfamiliar surroundings. Huh. He sat up, not as quickly as he would have liked, and figured from an emergency escape plan by the door that this was some kind of inn.

With another groan he let himself fall back onto the berth and shuttered his optics again. Ah. Blessed darkness.

So what the flying frag was he doing in an inn? Had he… they'd been out celebrating. He and the rest of the analytical chemistry class. It was over, and they'd all passed, which was what counted. Soo… and he'd obviously gotten cratered, because he'd never had had high grade before, because he was, technically, sixty vorns away from being allowed to consume it. Only the barkeep hadn't bothered to ask for their IDs and so Starscream had gotten cratered.

The crater was probably big enough to sink Iacon into it. Ouch.

So it figured he hadn't been able to fly. Begged the question why he was in an inn and not in his dorm. Even drunk his fellow undergrads would have thought to take him with them, wouldn't they. They weren't too fond of him, but Starscream didn't have enough credits on him to pay for a room. Certainly they wouldn't have pooled their savings for this.

Grah. Starscream onlined his optics again and made his way to the wash racks. Better get a shower, wander back to the Academy and ask someone.

The wash racks had a reflective wall, and Starscream stared at his image dumbly. He was covered in paint scratches of dull green. He'd gotten into a fight? Oh well. He'd figure it out eventually.

Using the sponge the inn thoughtfully provided, he buffed out the scratches he could reach and then slunk out of the place via the back door.

The Academy's hallways were thankfully quite empty, what with this orn being the Quintesson Defeat anniversary and all. He only met one of his classmates, who did a double take at seeing him.

"You're only back now?"

Starscream made a noncommittal noise.

"Well, that mech must have been a pit of a lay, huh?"

Starscream blinked at him, trying to process the information. It hadn't been a fight? But there were scuff marks on his wrists…

Suddenly, he remembered himself pleading. It had been a fight.

"If you'll excuse me." Starscream fled to the washracks and purged what little there was left in his tanks.

xxx

There was a general scraping of chair legs on the floor as the Decepticon High Command rose from the meeting table.

"Ah, Starscream?" Megatron said.

Starscream froze. "Sir?"

"There's something I wish to discuss with you. Wait for me."

"Of course, sir."

This couldn't be good. Starscream watched the others file out. Soundwave sent one of his indecipherable looks at Starscream, and Blitzwing winked at him, which didn't make much sense. Unless… no. Starscream had ceased to be obvious ten vorns ago, according to his trinemates.

"Starscream?"

He snapped to attention. "Sir."

"At ease. Follow me."

Making himself not draw up worst case scenarios, Starscream followed Megatron into unfamiliar hallways.

Eventually they stopped at an unassuming door. Megatron entered a code, the door slid open and revealed a spacious living room. Megatron's quarters?

Whoa.

"Come on in."

Starscream shook his head and walked on. Once he'd passed Megatron, he felt a warm hand settle on the small of his back.

He stopped. This was a joke, right? Megatron had finally decided to make fun of Starscream's silly little crush.

The hand gently pushed him onward. "Come now. Have a seat."

Starscream felt himself be directed to the table. A chair was drawn out for him and he sank into it rather gratefully. This had to be a hallucination or an overcharge dream, maybe.

He blinked as Megatron placed a cube of glowing high grade before him and settled on the chair next to him.

"It's your sparking orn, isn't it."

"Sir?" What in Primus' name was this about, and what was it to Megatron, anyway?

"Megatron," his leader corrected. "When we are in my quarters, you may call me Megatron."

"Sir. Megatron." Oh, this was weird. None of Starscream's fantasies had ever included this much awkwardness.

Megatron smiled. "As I've said, you are two hundred vorns old as of this orn, no?"

Starscream nodded dumbly.

"You are aware you've officially reached majority now."

"Yes. Si- Megatron."

"You've accomplished a lot in these two hundred vorns. More than any of those pampered Autobots could even dream of. This is cause for some celebration."

Was it? Starscream looked at the table. Some organic material, expensive and probably stolen from some defeated city. "I've never celebrated before." It wasn't encouraged, with Seekers.

"I know." Megatron raised his cube. "To your further success?"

Starscream had little choice but to toast back. "To victory."

Sipping at his high grade, Starscream watched as Megatron downed half of his in one big swallow.

The energon had a nasty burn, and Starscream set his cube down to ride out the fire down his intake. He'd have to be careful with this stuff.

"You missed a bit," Megatron said, raised a hand and slowly reached out towards Starscream.

The high grade roiled in Starscream's tanks. This wasn't true.

But then warm fingers came to rest under his chin, and a thumb brushed softly over his lips, finally reaching the small drop of high grade.

An odd sort of calm was on Megatron's face. Intent softened by some other emotion. Admiration, perhaps. Tenderness, it couldn't be.

"May I?" Megatron asked.

Starscream nodded and shuttered his optics. Yes. Please.