Chapter Text
“So, what are you planning to do with the Constructicons?”
“Oh, a little of this, a little of that.” Starscream draws the curtain back, looking over the lingering damage from Prowl’s attack. “The important thing is that we’re protected. I won’t see something like this happen to my planet again.”
“Right, because you can’t—“
“Starscream.”
Bumblebee cuts himself off, more from habit than anything. He still hasn’t gotten used to the idea that no one can hear him.
Well, no one that will listen.
“What is it, my friend?” Starscream’s already taking the data pad from Wheeljack, with that same sweet, overtly friendly air that he puts on any time he thinks he can get away with it. Bumblebee knows there’s no point, Wheeljack’s just as aware of who Starscream is as any of them, but he doesn’t say anything about it.
Mostly because he already has, and it hasn’t gotten Starscream to stop in the slightest.
“The singularity,” Wheeljack says, excitedly pointing at whatever’s on the tablet. “I think I can fix it.”
Starscream’s optics flick towards Bumblebee for just a moment, a sign of just how surprised he is. Bumblebee barely notices over the rushing in his audials.
He can what ?
“You’re talking about planet-killing radiation.” Starscream’s voice is perfectly level, and his servo doesn’t shake as he scrolls through the plans, but Bumblebee can see that he’s rattled. “It’s a nice idea, Wheeljack, but a little dangerous, no? Especially when we should be focusing our efforts on rebuilding.”
“Starscream,” they both say, but he doesn’t look at either of them.
Bumblebee grinds his denta, taking a step forward as if he poses any kind of threat. “You have to. My shell is in there. Dozens are, don’t they deserve a proper burial?”
“I’m not trying to speed anything up, I’m trying to reverse it.” Wheeljack points to something that Bumblebee can’t see. “It’s perfectly safe. Or as safe as anything I do.”
Starscream finally looks up from the tablet, but it’s only to raise an optical ridge at Wheeljack.
“No one will die,” he says, which is probably the most reasonable expectation any of them can have.
Starscream reads through the data pad one more time before nodding. “Sounds great, then. I’ll join you.”
“You—” Starscream’s already walking out the door, though Bumblebee has no idea where he’s going. Probably just for dramatics. “You’ll what ?”
“Join you. When you’re done.” Starscream glances back, expression almost innocent, almost genuine. Bumblebee doesn’t buy it for a second. He hopes Wheeljack doesn’t either. “We’ll have to excavate the city, won’t we? Not exactly the kind of thing to do when you’re still recovering from injuries.”
“Oh. Right.”
Wheeljack looks down at himself like he’ll be able to see the now-healed wounds. Starscream starts walking again, pace brisk.
“What are you planning?” Bumblebee asks, but he doesn’t get a response, only Rattrap falling into place to apologize for not stopping Wheeljack from bursting in.
It’s going to be a long night.
Wheeljack must have already built part of his device before coming to Starscream, because he’s ready by the middle of the next day.
“It’s good that you let him do this,” Bumblebee says, as they walk towards the edge of the city. He’s taken to reinforcing Starscream’s good deeds as often as possible, even when he’s sure they’re from not-as-good places. “Wheeljack likes feeling useful, especially in a science way, not a soldier way.”
Starscream doesn’t twitch . Just keeps walking.
“You’re quiet.” Bumblebee does a half-circle around him, like Starscream will make more sense from a different angle. “Why are you quiet? Why are you doing this?”
That gets a response, Starscream’s digits going to his audial to pretend at normalcy. “I can’t just do nice things to do them?”
“You can,” he concedes. “But you don’t.”
Starscream rolls his optics and drops his arm back down, a sign that he’s back to ignoring Bumblebee.
“Would you—”
“Oh, look.” Starscream straightens up, his politician face back on. “It’s my dear friend Windblade, and her bodyguard, too. I guess we’re leaving Metroplex just fully unsupervised today.”
“You could always stay behind,” Chromia says. Bumblebee almost groans aloud.
Like Starscream doesn’t need more reasons to think Windblade’s planning to kill him.
“Looks like we’re ready!” Thank Primus for Wheeljack. “Unless someone else is coming?”
Wheeljack glances towards Starscream’s knee, but Ratttrap is still back at the senate building, since Starscream’s leaving him out of what he’s planning too.
It doesn’t make Bumblebee feel as relaxed as he would have thought.
He doesn’t follow as they transform, since projecting is hard enough without having to keep up with Starscream at full speed. Just stands there, trying to push down the mounting feeling of dread within him.
His only assurance is that, if this works, he might actually be able to do something about it for once, instead of just yelling at the one ‘bot most set on not listening to him.
Crystal City is in ruins.
“Primus.” Windblade brings a servo up to a nearby wall, still singed from blast marks. “It… it wasn’t this bad, was it?”
“It did get a little crushed after we were through with it, but it’s practically the same.” Starscream stops walking right before a half-disintegrated shell of… Bumblebee can’t even recognize him at this point. Someone. “More or less.”
Windblade turns around sharply, optics almost as bright as her spark. “Do you really not care about this? About all of this destruction? All of this lost life?”
“Would I be here if I didn’t?” Starscream moves past her, closer into the heart of the city. Windblade takes a moment to glare before following.
The ground is a mess of rock and shells below them, and Starscream navigates it by hovering a careful distance above, Windblade doing the same. Bumblebee doesn’t bother, just walks through them all.
She doesn’t give any ground. “I don’t know why you’re here, actually.”
Starscream ducks around a corner.
Windblade follows. “Are you looking for something?”
“Always with the theories, Windblade.” Starscream sends her a sarcastic smile. “You’re starting to think like me.”
Windblade’s offense stalls her for a few nanokliks, which is the time it takes Starscream to get around the closest building, which was hiding—
“Oh,” Bumblebee says, suddenly numb. “It’s me.”
Starscream sets himself down gently, kneeling next to Bumblebee’s shell. It’s in about as many pieces as it can be in, to the point where Bumblebee really only recognizes it because it’s him , and just as gray as the ‘bots around them.
“I am not— ” Windblade invents, which is how Bumblebee knows she’s seen. “What are you…”
Starscream places a servo on Bumblebee’s crumbling chestplate, over where his spark should be. It makes him shiver.
Then he digs a nail in, scratching at his shell with enough purpose to send a screech through the entire city.
“What is wrong with you?” Windblade’s suddenly there, throwing Starscream off of him and into the nearby wall. It shakes. “What possible reason could you have for defiling them in that way? Did you come here just to disrespect the dead?”
“Tsk, but still leaping to conclusions.” Starscream drags his digit across his face, right under his optic. “You want to try that again?”
Bumblebee steps closer, but he already knows what he’ll see. His shell looks plenty gray on the ground, but against the true-gray of Starscream’s cheek, it’s clearly not. His optics are casting it in light, sure, but that only explains the red.
It doesn’t explain the faint, barely-there yellow, straight off Bumblebee’s chest.
“They’re—” Windblade stumbles back. “They’re alive ?”
“He,” Starscream corrects, kneeling back down. “It’s Bumblebee. And yes.”
Which is about when Chromia and Wheeljack arrive, going as fast as they can considering all the paths are made of fallen buildings.
“We heard a noise, is everything…” Wheeljack trails off as Starscream stands, holding what’s left of Bumblebee. “Why is Starscream carrying a dead ‘bot?”
“I’ll tell you on the way back,” Starscream says, and takes off flying.
“So, what’s the catch?”
Starscream trades out the petition he’s looking at, large red letters marking it DENIED. He doesn’t look at Bumblebee, just as removed as he’s been all day.
His plating prickles from a far away operation, sensation slowly coming back to him as Wheeljack and Flatline work. He keeps twitching, but Starscream doesn’t notice, because Starscream isn’t looking .
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He sets the next petition down, this one marked APPROVED. “What catch?”
“For saving my life.”
Starscream raises an optical ridge.
Bumblebee isn’t convinced. “Come on, you expect me to believe you went out, found what was left of me, and carried me all the way back here so that I can be revived… what? Out of the goodness of your spark?”
“Is that so hard to believe?” Starscream asks, like he knows exactly how hard it is to believe and enjoys watching Bumblebee struggle, and returns his optics to his reading.
“You do things for you, Starscream.” Bumblebee leans forward, over the desk. “What’s the plan here? What do you want?”
“Some quiet, if you don’t mind.” He holds up the data pad. “I’m trying to focus.”
“Why are you doing this?” Bumblebee can’t help the way his voice starts to rise, especially when he’s in the last few hours of being able to let it rise without consequence. “You’ve been shutting me out ever since Wheeljack told you his plan. You won’t talk to me, you’ll barely look at me, you’re treating me like—“
That gets Starscream’s attention, sharp optics finally on him. “Like…?”
“Like everyone else,” Bumblebee says, some of his energy leaving him. “You’re scared .”
“What kind of ridiculous—“
“No, no, don’t try that on me, not after all of this.” Bumblebee walks around the desk, as close as he can get. “You think I’m going to wake up and spill all your secrets. Everything you’ve done since taking power.”
“Am I?” Starscream stands, easily towering over Bumblebee, face twisted in the same way it is when he threatens Windblade. “Tell me, how are you going to prove any of it? Because I highly doubt anyone will buy that you managed to project your consciousness from a black hole, but only in a way I could see.”
“It’s not about them,” Bumblebee says, because if there’s one thing he’s learned about Starscream, it’s what he’s afraid of. “It’s about me. Betraying you.”
Starscream snorts, turning away to stalk around the room. “And they call me egotistical.”
“You can’t walk away from me, remember?” Bumblebee flickers to being in front of him. Starscream only hesitates a second before walking straight through. “You can admit you care about me, you know. I’m not going to, like, laugh at you or something.”
“I’m sorry, has something about this dynamic made you think we’re friends ?” Starscream rounds on him, always moving, never able to decide where to turn. “Because we aren’t. You want to know why I went and found you? Because maybe, if you have a body again, I can finally get your voice out of my helm .”
“I’m not going to leave,” Bumblebee says, not even touching the ‘friends’ comment. He doesn’t really think they’re friends either. He doesn’t know what they are.
Not enemies, though. He’s pretty sure of that.
“I don’t care,” Starscream snarls, back to looming over Bumblebee. It’s hard to take seriously after the dozens of breakdowns Bumblebee’s been witness to. “I don’t care if you stay, and I don’t care about you .”
“Too bad.” Bumblebee flickers, a sign that Wheeljack is getting closer. “Because I care about you .”
The last thing he sees is Starscream’s shocked, confused face. Then it all goes black.
He doesn’t immediately go to find Starscream.
He takes a few minutes to let his friends say hi, to touch them after so long of being immaterial, to introduce himself to the new faces. He’s aching all over, but he’s alive. That’s enough.
They don’t ask about the time in the singularity. They probably think they don’t need to. Who would be conscious in that state? Who would want to talk about it, if they were?
“I’m hoping to get you fully fixed up soon, but, until then, it’s back to the cane,” Wheeljack says, handing it over. “I gave you a few upgrades, though.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Bumblebee twirls it a bit, just because he can. “I like having a taser ready to go.”
It makes everyone laugh. It’s not very funny, but that’s not the point.
It’s a few hours before things die down enough for Bumblebee to slip out. Flatline stayed behind to keep watch on his vitals, but it’s Flatline, not Wheeljack, so he lets Bumblebee leave with just a warning not to push it.
Knowing what path to take is easy, but getting there is harder. Starscream’s office is at the top of a tower, and Bumblebee’s legs were aching before he started walking.
Needless to say, he doesn’t so much knock on the door as lean heavily against it while trying not to cry out in pain.
Then it opens, and Bumblebee falls straight to the floor.
“Oh.” Starscream doesn’t try to help him up. Bumblebee decides to stay on the floor for a couple more nanokliks, because it’s the most comfortable he’s been since the med-bay. “You’re awake.”
“Hey.” He offlines his optics, just trying to recenter. “Give me a moment. Everything hurts.”
“Yes, you were in pretty bad shape, weren’t you?” At least Starscream isn’t leaving. Bumblebee isn’t in a state to chase him around right now. “I see Wheeljack went with the older look.”
Bumblebee groans. “He said the bug mask was ugly.”
“It was.”
“Shut up.” He onlines his optics again, the sight of Starscream’s unimpressed face greeting him. “You want to help me up?”
“Anything for an old friend,” Starscream says, though it isn’t quite as convincing as when he’s talking to Wheeljack. Not that that’s convincing either.
He’s careful when he grabs Bumblebee, but it still hurts like hell. Primus, this is going to be an annoying recovery, if Bumblebee can’t do anything without fire shooting through his systems. He hasn’t felt like this since…
Actually, Bumblebee’s never been in this situation. Being shot to near-death and then crushed in a black hole is a new one.
“There.” Starscream brushes imaginary dust from Bumblebee’s shoulder. “Now, is there a reason you’re here, or did you get lost?”
He still thinks I’m going to leave him , Bumblebee thinks, though he isn’t surprised. He’s barely convincing himself that he shouldn’t be going to Windblade to tell her everything that’s happened.
“You know why,” Bumblebee says, grabbing Starscream’s shoulder to drag him down to his level and into an embrace. “You’re the reason I’m here.”
Starscream makes a vaguely-offended static noise as he goes tense all over, completely unwilling to return Bumblebee’s hug. He doesn’t mind. Bumblebee’s just so glad to be touching anyone that he would probably take Starscream beating him up over nothing.
“The only reason I’m not shoving you off is because I’m pretty sure you would deactivate on the spot, and Windblade doesn’t need any more leverage over me.” Bumblebee tightens his grip. “Let. Go.”
That would probably be smart.
“I want to make an agreement.” Starscream growls. Bumblebee ignores him. Bumblebee can ignore him. “We’re going to have an honest discussion, probably multiple discussions, and in those discussions we are not going to threaten each other or assume threats or make threats that you classify as ‘promises’ or something. We are going to work to better Cybertron, and you’re going to do it because you want to, not because you’re scared of what happens if you don’t.”
Sharp claws land on his upper arms, but they don’t squeeze. “And if I don’t?”
“No threats. No assumed threats. You want Cybertron to improve, remember?”
Starscream’s quiet for a moment, servos still carefully laid on Bumblebee’s arms. He can’t imagine the position is very comfortable, since he’s half bent over in order to be at Bumblebee’s height, but Starscream doesn’t complain. Just thinks.
Bumblebee doesn’t let go.
“Fine.” That actually worked ? “For Cybertron’s sake.”
“Yeah,” Bumblebee says, and waits for Starscream to tell him to move away again.
Instead, he says: “It’s actually you, isn’t it?”
“What?” Bumblebee wishes he could see Starscream’s face. Maybe this was a bad plan. “You were expecting someone else?”
“I…”
“Honest, ‘Screamer.”
“I thought you were a hallucination,” Starscream says, voice tinged with self-deprecating amusement. “My guilt come to life. Or afterlife, I suppose.”
Oh.
No wonder he thought Bumblebee was going to leave.
“I’m real. I haunted you. I’m still going to.” Bumblebee knocks their helms together, light as he can. “And I have conditions.”
Starscream pulls away to squint at him. Bumblebee lets him. “Conditions?”
“Conditions.” He closes the door behind him before walking to the nearest piece of furniture to sit down. “Three main ones. You’ll hate each one more than the last.”
“And if I choose not to–” Starscream cuts himself off, already moving to join Bumblebee around the main conference table. “Right. No threats.”
“Just arguments.” Bumblebee waits for Starscream to settle before holding up his servo, counting off each condition. “Number 1: firing Rattrap.”
“Unemployment is already a major issue in this city, Golden Rod.” Nicknames. That’s probably a good sign, right? It means Starscream’s not completely on the defensive. “You would have me put a ‘bot out of work just because he’s a bit suspicious?”
“He’s actively conspiring against you,” Bumblebee says, because he’s seen how Starscream acts in political debates, and he knows how to avoid his traps. “If anything is going to change, you need to stop surrounding yourself with people out to get you.”
“ Everyone is out to get me.”
“No, they aren’t.”
Starscream rolls his optics.
Bumblebee pushes on. “This is exactly my point. Rattrap is encouraging your paranoia, and it’s making it so you won’t trust anyone. He needs to go.”
Starscream doesn’t appear particularly moved by Bumblebee’s assessment of his mental state. And this is the easiest of his conditions.
Starscream doesn’t even like Rattrap.
“Do you think, for whatever reason, that if I remove Rattrap, I’ll suddenly start trusting people?” Starscream leans forward, optics flicking about as he inspects Bumblebee. “That deep down, I’m really a very nice, friendly ‘bot, and Rattrap is all that’s keeping me from being true to myself?”
Bumblebee snorts. It hurts. “No.”
“Glad we’re on the same page.” Starscream leans back into his chair, waving a servo. “Rattrap’s fired. I’ll do it first thing in the morning. What’s the second?”
“Dividing power.” And now Starscream’s defensive. “Cybertron shouldn’t be ruled as a dictatorship, that’s never going to work. Equal power, split between three representatives.”
“Oh, let me guess,” Starscream says, any air of civility gone and replaced with mocking distaste. “The other two will be you and Windblade. How democratic.”
“We can hold an election,” Bumblebee offers, though he really doesn’t want to. Not after last election. “If you’re so sure we won’t win.”
Starscream’s back to growling. “She’s trying to usurp me.”
“She’s trying to save Metroplex.”
“Her bodyguard tried to frame me for terrorism.”
“You are a terrorist.”
“Ex-terrorist, and—”
“You almost destroyed Caminus!”
“I saved it, too!”
“Equal power,” Bumblebee repeats, because he can’t actually convince Starscream to trust Windblade. “The three of us. She’ll have to get me to agree with anything you don’t.”
“Like she’ll have to try very hard,” Starscream says, near-muttering.
“You are the democratically elected leader of Cybertron, whether I like it or not.” And he really doesn’t like it. “Letting Windblade overthrow you, something she’d never do by the way, would be a bad idea and I know it. For Cybertron, remember?”
“I remember.” Starscream looks away, tapping his claws against the table. “I’ll think about it. What’s the third?”
“Just hear me out,” Bumblebee says, which gets Starscream tense immediately. “You confess to all of your crimes and stand trial before your people.”
Starscream nearly falls out of his chair.