Chapter Text
Bumblebee was definitely not expecting the sudden turn of events that played out in front of him. Just moments ago, he and Starscream had their weapons trained on one another, ready to shoot, and after Starscream began to lower his weapon, which he didn’t expect, he saw a bright blue flash of energy struck Starscream’s helm, making energon burst out from it before Starscream hit the ground while Hashtag screamed Starscream’s name with anguish.
Bumblebee’s spark sank, but his experience of the long war and honed instincts immediately made him jump into action. The children, however, remained frozen in shock from the way Starscream lay on his side, motionless.
“Get down, now!” Bumblebee’s voice rang out to the Terrans as he sprinted to Starscream’s fallen form. He knelt by the Decepticon, blaster ready, positioning himself as a protective wall between Starscream and the hidden threat.
The Terrans, instead of following Bumblebee’s order to take cover, rushed to Starscream, their weapons trained on the source of the attack. Nightshade worked desperately to staunch the flow of energon from Starscream’s head wound by covering it with their servos, and to their relief, the damage wasn’t as extensive as they had feared.
Bumblebee didn’t do anything about their disobedience. Instead, he was prepared to return fire to whoever was lurking in the shadows of the woods. The tension hung in the air, his servos steady and his processor racing as he tried to anticipate what might come next.
Just as he was about to pull the trigger upon spotting movement, a familiar white and blue figure emerged from the forest’s shadows.
The Terrans reacted instinctively, opening fire on the figure, who skillfully used the trees as shields to evade their shots.
“Wait, guys, stop!” Bumblebee’s voice cut through the sounds of the blasts, halting the Terrans, whose faces now held a mixture of confusion and irritation. “Don’t shoot. He’s with us!” Bumblebee urged the group.
“Are you sure about that?” Thrash asked his mentor with irritation when the white and blue transformer stepped out to the opening, his weapon still aimed at the Terrans. “Doesn’t look like he is.”
“He’s an Autobot,” Nightshade let out in confusion to see the Autobot emblem on the Transformer’s chassis.
“Prowl, what the hell, man?” Bumblebee let out with annoyance. “Lower your weapon!”
Prowl’s blue optics scanned the hostile faces of the Terrans, who still had their weapons trained on him as well. “Not until they lower theirs,” he responded sternly.
Bumblebee muttered a curse and quickly ordered the Terrans to lower their weapons.
“But, he just shot Starscream!” Twitch argued.
“I know he did, but just trust me. He’s not going to do anything now,” Bumblebee urged. Well, he hoped he was right. Prowl was the sort of bot that even Optimus had troubled keeping under control.
He assumed that Prowl had shot at Starscream because, well, the way Starscream and him were standing with their blasters pointing at one another probably made it seem he was in danger.
His gaze shifting to Starscream, who emitted a pained groan while lying on his side, his optics still dim, showing the Decepticon was still unconscious.
“We need to get Starscream help immediately.” Bumblebee retracted his blaster and signaled for Hashtag’s assistance in securing the fallen Decepticon onto his back so he could carry him safely.
“Twitch, go to your mother and inform her about what happened,” Bumblebee instructed the smallest of the Terrans. “Tell her we’re bringing Starscream. She’ll know what to do.” Twitch’s lips tightened into a thin line, but she offered a curt nod before transforming and flying back to her home.
The remaining Terrans hesitantly concealed their weapons but maintained their protective stance between Bumblebee and Prowl, who approached them with a measured gait after holstering his own weapon.
Prowl’s expression remained stern as he locked optics with Bumblebee. “Bumblebee,” he addressed his fellow comrade, his voice even and composed. His optics bore intently on Bumblebee. “What’s the meaning of this?” He gestured toward the injured Decepticon cradled on Bumblebee’s back.
“I’ll explain later,” Bumblebee replied, his attention still concentrated on the injured Starscream. And with that, he began making his way in the direction of the Malto’s home.
Relief washed over Dot as she caught sight of Optimus and Elita-1 rolling up the road in her direction, with Megatron transforming as he descended to the ground. Optimus and Elita-1 followed suit, shifting from their vehicular forms to their actual ones upon reaching her.
Megatron wasted no time in addressing Dot. “Where are they?” he asked urgently.
“Last I saw them, they were heading north into the forest,” Dot replied with a furrowed brow. “Bumblebee is with them now.”
Megatron prepared to head towards the forest, but Optimus swiftly reached out and grasped his arm.
“Don’t forget what we agreed on,” Optimus reminded the former Decepticon leader. They had decided that Optimus would approach Starscream first, take him to the side and have a peaceful conversation to understand why he came over to the Malto’s. Optimus hoped that Starscream would be less aggressive if confronted by him, even though the Decepticon harbored resentment towards both leaders.
Megatron scowled, about to protest, but before he could voice his objection, Twitch emerged and flew over to them quickly before transforming. She gazed up at them with wide optics.
Her terrified expression instantly made them think of the worst-case scenario and gave them the urge to dash to where she had come from, ready to fight Starscream.
Rage rushed through Megatron’s system for ever trusting that the Terrans could be safe around Starscream. He should have flown immediately to the Malto’s the moment Dot had called him so he could take Starscream down.
“Starscream is badly hurt!” Twitch exclaimed, panic in her voice. “Some Autobot shot him for no reason in the helm!” Optimus, Elita-1, Dot, and Megatron stared at the Terran with utter confusion, caught off guard.
Optimus was the first one to collect his thoughts. “Where is Starscream?” he asked Twitch.
“Bumblebee is bringing him,” she responded, before turning to her mother. “He said you’ll know what to do. Please mom, we have to help him,” she pleaded.
Dot hesitated for a moment, as the resentment and fear she had towards Starscream made her not want to aid him. But as she looked into her daughter’s distressed expression, her maternal instincts took over. With a heavy sigh, Dot nodded reluctantly.
She won’t be able to do much herself, but Megatron was there who was the bot she would have immediately reached for if a Transformer required any medical assistance. But… she knew better than to ask him to help Starscream.
She turned to Optimus. “Any chance we can get in contact with Ratchet?” she asked him.
“Unfortunately, I have yet to make contact with him,” The leader of the Autobots responded. Ratchet had stopped talking to him ever since he had given Megatron a second chance. Some of the Autobots had not been fond of his decision as well.
Dot really hated to do this, but she turned to Megatron.
Megatron was conflicted. He could feel her gaze on him as he was avoiding eye contact with her.
“Depending how bad it is, we may not have any other choice,” Optimus, having a good idea what was in Dot’s mind, said to Megatron, who remained dead silent.
“We should make sure we have everything ready to tend to Starscream,” Dot said before she rushed with Elita-1 and Twitch into the barn so they could clear the metal table that stood at the underground base.
Megatron and Optimus were about to go into the forest before they spotted Bumblebee emerging from the forest, carrying the injured Starscream on his back. The other Terrans followed closely behind him, their expressions full of worry. Immediately, the two old veterans recognized Prowl, who followed the group.
Megatron’s optics narrowed at Prowl, who returned the same hostile glance.
“Megatron…” Prowl addressed in a cold tone, chin tilting slightly up. “I see you’re still playing nice after all these years.”
Megatron didn’t respond to Prowl’s condescending attitude, not taking the bait. Prowl was one of the Autobots that had not taken well when he joined Optimus during the last moments of the war.
Meanwhile, Optimus ushered Bumblebee to get Starscream into the barn, Megatron saw the severity of Starscream’s helm injury as Bumblebee walked past him, energon was trailing out from fractured metal.
He assumed Starscream had done something to antagonize Prowl to have prompted him to shoot at him.
Then again, Twitch said Prowl had shot his former second in command for no reason… which wouldn’t be a surprise either. Prowl had taken down any Decepticons even when they had given themselves up.
“Is he going to be okay?” Hashtag asked Optimus with worry. “Please tell me he’ll be alright.”
Optimus placed a comforting servo on the Terran’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Hashtag,” he said in a calm and assuring tone. “We’ll do everything we can to make sure Starscream gets the help he needs. He’ll be fine.”
Hashtag looked down, appearing rather guilty, which Optimus couldn’t understand why she would be.
He exchanged a meaningful look with Megatron. Both of them knowing very well that Megatron was the only one who could truly help Starscream now.
Megatron knew how to tend to severe wounds. He had learned to do so before and during the war. Well, they were mostly wounds on him that he had tended to. Of course, he wasn’t as great at Ratchet, but he was better than nothing.
After a moment, he took a deep breath to push aside his personal feelings he had for Starscream and moved into the barn, ready to offer assistance in tending to the traitorous Decepticon.
The world was a blurred haze, and the pain was unbearable. Oh... he felt so much pain... It felt like someone had split open his helm and set it ablaze. He tried activating his optics, but the searing light above him sent waves of agony coursing through his helm, forcing him to shut them down.
He loathed getting injured, but he absolutely hated it when he obtained an injury on his head or his wings.
Something hard brushed against his helm, causing him to groan. He tried to reach for his head, but he felt metallic restraints holding his wrists captive, and a dreadful realization crept over him. It wasn’t just his wrists; his legs were also pinned down with something.
Panic surged through him like a rocket soaring through the air. The searing pain in his head did not hold him back from struggling violently against his bonds. Whatever was on his helm retreated abruptly, replaced by heavy, familiar servos roughly landing on his shoulders, further restricting his movements and intensifying his fear.
“Starscream, calm down,” a voice, tinged with irritation, one that had haunted him in his nightmares, commanded him. His response was to struggle harder, his teeth clenched as he attempted to spit at his captor out of instinct.
“Starscream, it’s okay,” a familiar, softer voice quickly said with concern. “We’re only trying to help you.” Starscream nearly believed it, but the face of a blonde human flitted through his thoughts, and with it came a flood of haunting memories.
‘Don’t you worry…’ Her cold voice echoed in his processor. ‘We’re only trying to help you…’
Fear seized him. He was back, under the merciless grasp of Ghost where they forced his chest plates open, his spark cruelly exposed. The painful memories came crashing down on him.
For a heart-stopping moment, Starscream feared that the freedom he had yearned for, meeting Hashtag and the other Terrans, were nothing but a fleeting dream, and that he was still imprisoned, about to endure the same agonizing procedures.
No, he couldn’t bear that pain again. Pain that didn’t seem to end ever since he was created. Pain that just grew worse since he decided to follow that tyrant.
Panic rose exponentially in his spark when something touched his helm again, making him finally break free from the restraint on his right wrist.
“Hashtag, get away from him right now!” a voice shouted, joined by a chorus of others.
“Hold him down!”
“Stop! You’re scaring him!”
“Starscream, it’s us! It’s okay!”
“Stand back, both of you!”
“You’re making things worse!”
“I said you’re scaring him!”
A sharp, excruciating pain seared on his right arm as it was forced down hard, metal fingers digging into him, drowning out the surrounding commotion. The noise, the pain, it all overwhelmed him, suffocating him. Then, suddenly, a burning sensation began to make its way within his spark, and it just grew worse within a blink of an eye. He wanted to scream but found himself choking before slipping back into the cold darkness that waited for him.