What Goes Around, Chapter 11: Reunion
Title: What Goes Around
Status: IN PROGRESS
Rating: T/PG-13, with a couple of chapters of R.
Warnings: Crack. AU. Genderbending...sort of. Non-canon-ness. Total mucking around with Cybertronian history, culture, biology, social structure, and...yeah, just about everything, really. Reading the notes and the prologue is highly encouraged. If you can swallow the stuff that's in there, you'll probably be all right with this story. If not...Well, then you need read no farther than that.
Main Characters: Swoop, Starscream, Ratchet, Mirage, Wheeljack. With a touch of Prowl, Megatron, Optimus Prime, Soundwave, and Thundercracker.
Genre: Crack, but with a (hopefully) coherent plot!
Chapter Summary: Starscream's somewhat rude awakening. Although, really, he ain't complainin'.
Voices were floating around Starscream in layers of mysterious and indistinct murmurings. The words were initially indecipherable, but as time passed, they began to occasionally resolve into intelligible but random words. And then the murmuring voices slowly became distinct from each other, and as they became distinct, they also started to become individually recognizable.
One of them, Starscream realized, was hers; he'd been hearing her voice in his head for so long now that it was almost as familiar to him as his own. Yet even as he listened to her voice, listened to the timbre of it, the rhythm of it, picking out intelligible words here and there, Starscream was still eighty-five percent certain that it existed only in own head. The fraction of uncertainty that he harbored stemmed from the fact that her voice was suddenly somehow soothing rather than utterly maddening. It felt closer to him, too. More immediate. Less like a distant and indistinct echo of a dream that only faintly reached his senses. It was stronger than it had ever been, and he half-unwillingly clung to it, wrapped himself in it as he drifted back down into the warm unconsciousness that was still pawing at him.
Some indeterminate amount of time passed, and when Starscream next staggered toward consciousness, the voices were still there, clearer now. Some of them were different, some the same. She was still there, and it slowly became very apparent to Starscream, as he recognized another voice, that this time she was quietly speaking with Ratchet. His processors were moving at a speed at which they might have cause to envy the speed of glaciers, but he managed to wonder why he would be hearing her talking with Ratchet in his head, particularly because he could hear both voices, both sides of the exchange between them. He seemed to be the subject of discussion, however; he'd heard his name mentioned a few times, before he'd been able to comprehend anything else that they'd been saying. He was fairly certain that the mentions of his name were what had again roused him from the happy but thickly-drugged stupor in which he'd been floating. While he'd become rather used to Swoop's voice in his head, Ratchet being in there was entirely new and not exactly welcome.
Starscream tried to move then and even managed to succeed at the task somewhat, only to discover that he was restrained. The restraints were not excessively tight, but they were tight enough that it was a one hundred percent certainty that he wasn't going to be getting off the berth that he was apparently lying on, particularly not in his only marginally-coherent state. The restraints added a level of realism to what may or may not have been a hallucination. One was usually not restrained in one's psychotic delusions, so either his psychosis was becoming even more dubiously creative or…or maybe it wasn't a hallucination. He decided that some optical input might be helpful.
Lights that were far too bright and a veritable sea of nauseating orange greeted him. He would never understand the Autobots' fascination with the color…
…Wait, Autobots? The thought was enough to trigger bleary recollections of recent events, which ran through Starscream's mind with dizzying speed and in somewhat jumbled order. If he was not currently hallucinating, then he had actually managed to accomplish his goal of reaching Autobot Headquarters. He didn't remember much of the flight, and perhaps that was just as well; he had faint but firm impressions that it had been extremely difficult to remain aloft at times.
Starscream tried to say something then, but the only thing that emerged from him was a dull syllable that sounded faintly like, "Muh?" But the incoherent sound was enough to attract the attention of the two medics, whose faces were suddenly floating above him. Starscream only cared about one of them, and he focused solely and narrowly on her.
Biting his lip in focused concentration, Starscream lifted his arm. He was fairly certain that there was enough slack in the restraint to allow him to rest the palm of his hand flat against Swoop's chest as she leaned over him. He moved to do so…and then he became vaguely aware that this caused some sort of commotion to occur in the small room that he was occupying. He turned his head toward the noise, squinting in an effort to see past the fuzziness, and recognized those infernal Lamborghinis, apparently here in case he decided to cause some mayhem. Not that he would have minded causing some mayhem…but he was truly not up to the task, at least not at the moment. Apparently Ratchet realized this because he saw the medic make a gesture to stay the twins' approach. So then Starscream did what he wanted to do, laying his hand against Swoop's chest. In response, she laid one of her hands over his, pressing his hand more firmly against herself as if she knew what he wanted. What he needed.
And he felt it, then. Her spark, its energy pulsing steadily and strongly through her armor; he could feel its energy against his hand, feel its rhythm, dimly recognized that it seemed to match his own. But there were echoes of other pulses in there, too. Weaker, fainter, and Starscream blearily recognized that she was still carrying offspring sparks. Sparks that he had helped to create. He bit down harder on his lip then, not knowing exactly what to think about that, particularly not in his current state of stupor. But the warmth and solidity of her and the softly shining smoothness of her armor under his hand were tangible and undeniably, reassuringly real. The pull that he felt toward her, strong even through the persistent fog that plagued him, was yet another sign.
She was real, Starscream decided. Most definitely real. And he most definitely wanted her, oh yes. But…he couldn't follow through with the want right now. He couldn't follow through with anything right now. Instead, Starscream let out a long, steadying breath that he hadn't realized that he'd been holding.
"Real," he murmured, patting Swoop's chest approvingly, although he was appalled at the weakness of his own voice. And then his arm flopped weakly back against the berth. It, too, was weak. He was weak, too much so even to keep his arm raised any longer. Too much so to do anything.
"Yes," Swoop murmured back, meanwhile. "I'm real. You came here, asked for me. I shot you down."
Starscream nodded faintly once, the slight movement making his world go instantly and nauseatingly blurry.
"I 'member," he said thickly. "Nice shot," he complimented woozily, after a brief moment of reflection, his voice slurring.
Swoop snorted dismissively.
"A human with a BB gun could have shot you down, Starscream," she pointed out. "I'm surprised you made it here."
"Mmmm. Me, too," Starscream agreed. He was…muzzy. And suddenly happy for some reason that his dulled processors couldn't quite pinpoint. He had to fight the urge to laugh madly and, to distract himself if nothing else, he shifted slightly against the berth that he was lying on in an impossible quest to find a more comfortable position. Faint and probably drug-dampened twinges of pain ran through his body in response, and he groaned as his movements set off a wave of nausea that crashed insistently through him.
"Easy there," Swoop murmured softly, reflexively lifting a hand to run it gently and comfortingly over the various crenellations of his head. Her hand was comfortingly cool against him, and her touch seemed to have the power to instantly soothe him, although he suspected that if he wasn't still half-unconscious her touch would have been greatly arousing instead. "It'll take a while for the system suppressants to wear off," Swoop was saying quietly. "Just rest. You need it."
"Mmmm. 'K," Starscream acknowledged faintly. "Such a niiiiice medic," he added dreamily, after a moment's consideration.
The last thing Starscream heard before he drifted off into la la land again was Swoop snorting again, but this time the snort, he realized, was covering up a chuckle.
* * * * * *
When Starscream next awoke, he was about twenty levels higher on the awareness scale and, so his chronometer told him, about eight hours had passed. Swoop was still - or perhaps again - in the room, her back to him at the moment. He studied her for a long moment, silently, so as not to draw attention to himself. He had vague recollections of having noted at some point that she looked different now, and this he was now noting again. Vanity perhaps had compelled this change in her; females usually but not always felt a need to make themselves look different, a reflection of their rarity, or perhaps even an advertisement of it. Whatever had compelled the change in Swoop, though, Starscream found himself approving of it.
She was still the same size, still small and deceptively delicate-looking, but she was more curves than angles now, streamlined where once she had been boxy and cumbersome and, indeed, primitive-looking. Her color scheme was pleasing, and the added gold and subtracted dull grey made her physical form seem to better match her status. She practically glowed, her armor artfully designed to catch the light and then to let it play over the new shiny gold expanses of her body. He could tell that her wings, although they were mostly folded away against her back, no doubt for convenience's sake when maneuvering in small rooms such as this, would be longer than they had been before when fully extended, more back-curved and their tips longer and more tapered. Squinting, he picked out a line of small Cybertronian glyphs, brushed silver inlaid into the shiny gold that her wings now sported. The glyphs limned the leading edge of each wing, following its curve, but they were too small to read from where he was.
He thought that Swoop was real. His imagination and the hallucinations that it created had grown disturbingly convincing as time had passed, but he was inclined to believe that what he was seeing now was a level of detail that would be difficult for even deep psychosis to conjure. Still, he wasn't sure. He had very vague recollections of waking earlier and of determining that Swoop was real at the time…but then he wasn't sure that that memory was real.
He groaned. It was so frustrating, existing in this place of uncertainty about absolutely everything. He tried to bring his hands up to cover his face with them, but he was still, of course, restrained.
The groan and the movements served to bring Swoop's attention to him, though, as well as the attention of the others in the room. The slight noise that they made as they shifted to alertness was enough to divert Starscream's attention from Swoop…for a moment.
Surprisingly, Prowl was there. Which was, Starscream thought sourly,a true reason to celebrate. A couple of the other Dinobots were there, too. Grimlock and the one with the damned flamethrowers. Their presence meant that there wasn't much space left over in the small room that Starscream inhabited, but it wasn't as if anyone else was needed. It vaguely occurred to Starscream that perhaps he should be flattered. Three Dinobots, plus Prowl, were apparently required to make sure that he behaved himself. And of course he couldn't resist tweaking Prowl. Just a little bit. For old times' sake.
"Well, hello, Prowl," he murmured, trying not to wince at the continued weakness of his voice. "Still having fun slumming with the lowly civils, are we?"
Prowl merely scowled in response, eyes narrowed to thin red slits.
"More fun that you're going to be having, Starscream," he said levelly, smooth voice rumbling low.
"Really?" Starscream responded mildly. He paused dramatically for a moment, then added, "Wait, was that supposed to be some sort of threat? How delightful!"
"Take it in whatever way you wish, Starscream," Prowl answered noncommittally.
"Ah, Prowl," Starscream purred in amusement. "Good to see that some things never change. Megatron sends his warmest regards, by the way. You remember him, yes? Big? Silver? Liked you an awful lot, once upon a time?"
Prowl scowled again, refusing to verbally take the bait, but he did take a threatening step or two toward Starscream's berth, his doorwings raised high with annoyance. Good old Prowl, Starscream thought, gleaming a taunting and provocative grin at the tactician.
"Stop it, both of you," Swoop growled, stepping in.
There was deep and almost impressive authority in her voice, and Starscream realized that she was using it to cow Prowl, who gave her a measuring look, surprise subtly flickering over his features…and then he subsided like the good, obedient little warrior that he was. Swoop was obviously learning, then. For all Starscream knew, she had all the warriors in the Autobot ranks kowtowing to her and catering to her every whim by now, just like her predecessor.
Starscream turned his head to look at her then, ignoring the faint sense of dizziness that passed through him as a result. He stared at Swoop, and she met his gaze squarely…and then Starscream found that he couldn't look away from her. Or, more accurately, that he didn't want to look away from her. What he wanted to do was to leap off the berth and shove her against the closest wall and… He gritted his teeth, trying to force such thoughts from his mind, trying to block the images that trailed after the thoughts like dry leaves caught up in a gust of wind, trying to calm himself in the face of her being real and, worse, standing right there, only a couple of meters away from him. So close and yet so far…
Despite his efforts, as if of its own volition, one of his arms started to yank violently at one of the restraints that was tethering him. It didn't give, so he just kept yanking at it, over and over again and with steadily increasing force, until the restraint began to chafe and then bite into his arm. He didn't even feel it.
Involuntarily, Swoop took a step toward Starscream…and then yelped when, unexpectedly, Prowl grabbed hold of her firmly and silently, staying her. He gave the other two Dinobots a curt jerk of his chin toward Starscream. They moved to hold Starscream down, to stop his struggling none-too-gently.
"Careful!" Swoop admonished them. "Don't ruin all my hard work."
Starscream struggled against the grip of the two Dinobots, but even if he hadn't been restrained and had been at one hundred percent - which he wasn't, not by a long shot - he couldn't have pushed them off of him. One Dinobot alone was much stronger than he was. Arguably, Swoop, the smallest of them, was stronger than he was, his only advantage over her being that he outweighed her. Two Dinobots against him was…decidedly unfair. Of course, that was why they were there in the first place, to be unfairly overpowering and intimidating. And eventually, because he had no other choice, Starscream surrendered to their superior strength, flopping back against the berth in frustration and panting from exertion. Vague warnings were flashing across his diagnostics about…something. He paid them no mind.
He paid them no mind because Swoop, after shaking off Prowl's grip on her with a displeased scowl and then giving him a vague gesture that clearly said "Stay there," was approaching him. There was an odd look on her face as she moved toward him, as if she suddenly wasn't quite all there. Ducking around Grimlock, she stood at the side of Starscream's berth, her arms folded over her chest, regarding him inquisitively for a long moment. Starscream, held down firmly by Dinobot strength, could only stare helplessly back at her, still panting but not only from exertion now, while everything that he was, every instinct that he possessed, was screaming at him to somehow throw off Swoop's brothers and gather her to him and pull her down on the berth and-
And then Swoop was suddenly leaning down, was suddenly kissing him. It was a hard kiss, and there was longing in it, and as it went on everything - every thought, every possible word that he might utter, every course of action that he might undertake, every desire except one, everything - instantly drained from Starscream. The pressure on his body eased up for some reason - likely because of surprise on the other Dinobots' parts - and he was able to reach up, as much as the tethering restraints allowed, to pull at Swoop, to pull her down toward him. She didn't protest, not for the awkward half-embrace, but she did protest when Prowl abruptly yanked her away.
They said words to each other after that, and Swoop was obviously displeased, scowling severely up at Prowl, but Starscream paid them no mind, barely heard them at all. His processors were too busy reeling, his sensory net tingling with sensation that raced voraciously through him. Rather than easing the want of her, the kiss had made it worse, drowning the more rational voice in his head that wondered why in the world she'd done it. He didn't care. He just wanted…more. He was gathering his strength to struggle against his bonds again, Dinobots be damned, and he was stayed only by a piercing cry that suddenly and quite obviously came from Swoop. He cranked his head over to look at her, alarmed. There was a pained expression on her face, she was gasping for breath, and she had both arms pressed tightly over her chest. And then her entire body jerked and she began to collapse against Prowl, her legs no longer up to the task of supporting her weight.
Prowl called urgently for Ratchet over his comm as Swoop collapsed against him, and he lowered her gently to the floor. Starscream, meanwhile, began to struggle violently, ignoring warnings that flashed across his diagnostics, but this only prompted Grimlock to practically sit on him, while Slag just stared, dumbfounded, at Swoop. Ratchet skidded into the room then, took in the scene for a split-second, and then made a dash for Swoop's side, pausing only to make a quick pit stop at Starscream's berth.
Without a word to the Seeker or to anyone else, Ratchet injected something into one of the lines that were feeding into Starscream's systems, and his world almost instantly began to go black. His ineffectual struggles against the restraints and against Grimlock ceased entirely as his body began to go completely numb. The last thing that he heard was Swoop beginning to utter a constant wail; the wavering note of it seemed to Starscream to go on and on, stretched into infinity, eternity, as he lost consciousness, chasing him down into blackness. The last thought that entered his mind was some entirely absurd notion that he needed to help her, to protect her, that that was his job. But then… Then there was nothing.
Status: IN PROGRESS
Rating: T/PG-13, with a couple of chapters of R.
Warnings: Crack. AU. Genderbending...sort of. Non-canon-ness. Total mucking around with Cybertronian history, culture, biology, social structure, and...yeah, just about everything, really. Reading the notes and the prologue is highly encouraged. If you can swallow the stuff that's in there, you'll probably be all right with this story. If not...Well, then you need read no farther than that.
Main Characters: Swoop, Starscream, Ratchet, Mirage, Wheeljack. With a touch of Prowl, Megatron, Optimus Prime, Soundwave, and Thundercracker.
Genre: Crack, but with a (hopefully) coherent plot!
Chapter Summary: Starscream's somewhat rude awakening. Although, really, he ain't complainin'.
Voices were floating around Starscream in layers of mysterious and indistinct murmurings. The words were initially indecipherable, but as time passed, they began to occasionally resolve into intelligible but random words. And then the murmuring voices slowly became distinct from each other, and as they became distinct, they also started to become individually recognizable.
One of them, Starscream realized, was hers; he'd been hearing her voice in his head for so long now that it was almost as familiar to him as his own. Yet even as he listened to her voice, listened to the timbre of it, the rhythm of it, picking out intelligible words here and there, Starscream was still eighty-five percent certain that it existed only in own head. The fraction of uncertainty that he harbored stemmed from the fact that her voice was suddenly somehow soothing rather than utterly maddening. It felt closer to him, too. More immediate. Less like a distant and indistinct echo of a dream that only faintly reached his senses. It was stronger than it had ever been, and he half-unwillingly clung to it, wrapped himself in it as he drifted back down into the warm unconsciousness that was still pawing at him.
Some indeterminate amount of time passed, and when Starscream next staggered toward consciousness, the voices were still there, clearer now. Some of them were different, some the same. She was still there, and it slowly became very apparent to Starscream, as he recognized another voice, that this time she was quietly speaking with Ratchet. His processors were moving at a speed at which they might have cause to envy the speed of glaciers, but he managed to wonder why he would be hearing her talking with Ratchet in his head, particularly because he could hear both voices, both sides of the exchange between them. He seemed to be the subject of discussion, however; he'd heard his name mentioned a few times, before he'd been able to comprehend anything else that they'd been saying. He was fairly certain that the mentions of his name were what had again roused him from the happy but thickly-drugged stupor in which he'd been floating. While he'd become rather used to Swoop's voice in his head, Ratchet being in there was entirely new and not exactly welcome.
Starscream tried to move then and even managed to succeed at the task somewhat, only to discover that he was restrained. The restraints were not excessively tight, but they were tight enough that it was a one hundred percent certainty that he wasn't going to be getting off the berth that he was apparently lying on, particularly not in his only marginally-coherent state. The restraints added a level of realism to what may or may not have been a hallucination. One was usually not restrained in one's psychotic delusions, so either his psychosis was becoming even more dubiously creative or…or maybe it wasn't a hallucination. He decided that some optical input might be helpful.
Lights that were far too bright and a veritable sea of nauseating orange greeted him. He would never understand the Autobots' fascination with the color…
…Wait, Autobots? The thought was enough to trigger bleary recollections of recent events, which ran through Starscream's mind with dizzying speed and in somewhat jumbled order. If he was not currently hallucinating, then he had actually managed to accomplish his goal of reaching Autobot Headquarters. He didn't remember much of the flight, and perhaps that was just as well; he had faint but firm impressions that it had been extremely difficult to remain aloft at times.
Starscream tried to say something then, but the only thing that emerged from him was a dull syllable that sounded faintly like, "Muh?" But the incoherent sound was enough to attract the attention of the two medics, whose faces were suddenly floating above him. Starscream only cared about one of them, and he focused solely and narrowly on her.
Biting his lip in focused concentration, Starscream lifted his arm. He was fairly certain that there was enough slack in the restraint to allow him to rest the palm of his hand flat against Swoop's chest as she leaned over him. He moved to do so…and then he became vaguely aware that this caused some sort of commotion to occur in the small room that he was occupying. He turned his head toward the noise, squinting in an effort to see past the fuzziness, and recognized those infernal Lamborghinis, apparently here in case he decided to cause some mayhem. Not that he would have minded causing some mayhem…but he was truly not up to the task, at least not at the moment. Apparently Ratchet realized this because he saw the medic make a gesture to stay the twins' approach. So then Starscream did what he wanted to do, laying his hand against Swoop's chest. In response, she laid one of her hands over his, pressing his hand more firmly against herself as if she knew what he wanted. What he needed.
And he felt it, then. Her spark, its energy pulsing steadily and strongly through her armor; he could feel its energy against his hand, feel its rhythm, dimly recognized that it seemed to match his own. But there were echoes of other pulses in there, too. Weaker, fainter, and Starscream blearily recognized that she was still carrying offspring sparks. Sparks that he had helped to create. He bit down harder on his lip then, not knowing exactly what to think about that, particularly not in his current state of stupor. But the warmth and solidity of her and the softly shining smoothness of her armor under his hand were tangible and undeniably, reassuringly real. The pull that he felt toward her, strong even through the persistent fog that plagued him, was yet another sign.
She was real, Starscream decided. Most definitely real. And he most definitely wanted her, oh yes. But…he couldn't follow through with the want right now. He couldn't follow through with anything right now. Instead, Starscream let out a long, steadying breath that he hadn't realized that he'd been holding.
"Real," he murmured, patting Swoop's chest approvingly, although he was appalled at the weakness of his own voice. And then his arm flopped weakly back against the berth. It, too, was weak. He was weak, too much so even to keep his arm raised any longer. Too much so to do anything.
"Yes," Swoop murmured back, meanwhile. "I'm real. You came here, asked for me. I shot you down."
Starscream nodded faintly once, the slight movement making his world go instantly and nauseatingly blurry.
"I 'member," he said thickly. "Nice shot," he complimented woozily, after a brief moment of reflection, his voice slurring.
Swoop snorted dismissively.
"A human with a BB gun could have shot you down, Starscream," she pointed out. "I'm surprised you made it here."
"Mmmm. Me, too," Starscream agreed. He was…muzzy. And suddenly happy for some reason that his dulled processors couldn't quite pinpoint. He had to fight the urge to laugh madly and, to distract himself if nothing else, he shifted slightly against the berth that he was lying on in an impossible quest to find a more comfortable position. Faint and probably drug-dampened twinges of pain ran through his body in response, and he groaned as his movements set off a wave of nausea that crashed insistently through him.
"Easy there," Swoop murmured softly, reflexively lifting a hand to run it gently and comfortingly over the various crenellations of his head. Her hand was comfortingly cool against him, and her touch seemed to have the power to instantly soothe him, although he suspected that if he wasn't still half-unconscious her touch would have been greatly arousing instead. "It'll take a while for the system suppressants to wear off," Swoop was saying quietly. "Just rest. You need it."
"Mmmm. 'K," Starscream acknowledged faintly. "Such a niiiiice medic," he added dreamily, after a moment's consideration.
The last thing Starscream heard before he drifted off into la la land again was Swoop snorting again, but this time the snort, he realized, was covering up a chuckle.
* * * * * *
When Starscream next awoke, he was about twenty levels higher on the awareness scale and, so his chronometer told him, about eight hours had passed. Swoop was still - or perhaps again - in the room, her back to him at the moment. He studied her for a long moment, silently, so as not to draw attention to himself. He had vague recollections of having noted at some point that she looked different now, and this he was now noting again. Vanity perhaps had compelled this change in her; females usually but not always felt a need to make themselves look different, a reflection of their rarity, or perhaps even an advertisement of it. Whatever had compelled the change in Swoop, though, Starscream found himself approving of it.
She was still the same size, still small and deceptively delicate-looking, but she was more curves than angles now, streamlined where once she had been boxy and cumbersome and, indeed, primitive-looking. Her color scheme was pleasing, and the added gold and subtracted dull grey made her physical form seem to better match her status. She practically glowed, her armor artfully designed to catch the light and then to let it play over the new shiny gold expanses of her body. He could tell that her wings, although they were mostly folded away against her back, no doubt for convenience's sake when maneuvering in small rooms such as this, would be longer than they had been before when fully extended, more back-curved and their tips longer and more tapered. Squinting, he picked out a line of small Cybertronian glyphs, brushed silver inlaid into the shiny gold that her wings now sported. The glyphs limned the leading edge of each wing, following its curve, but they were too small to read from where he was.
He thought that Swoop was real. His imagination and the hallucinations that it created had grown disturbingly convincing as time had passed, but he was inclined to believe that what he was seeing now was a level of detail that would be difficult for even deep psychosis to conjure. Still, he wasn't sure. He had very vague recollections of waking earlier and of determining that Swoop was real at the time…but then he wasn't sure that that memory was real.
He groaned. It was so frustrating, existing in this place of uncertainty about absolutely everything. He tried to bring his hands up to cover his face with them, but he was still, of course, restrained.
The groan and the movements served to bring Swoop's attention to him, though, as well as the attention of the others in the room. The slight noise that they made as they shifted to alertness was enough to divert Starscream's attention from Swoop…for a moment.
Surprisingly, Prowl was there. Which was, Starscream thought sourly,a true reason to celebrate. A couple of the other Dinobots were there, too. Grimlock and the one with the damned flamethrowers. Their presence meant that there wasn't much space left over in the small room that Starscream inhabited, but it wasn't as if anyone else was needed. It vaguely occurred to Starscream that perhaps he should be flattered. Three Dinobots, plus Prowl, were apparently required to make sure that he behaved himself. And of course he couldn't resist tweaking Prowl. Just a little bit. For old times' sake.
"Well, hello, Prowl," he murmured, trying not to wince at the continued weakness of his voice. "Still having fun slumming with the lowly civils, are we?"
Prowl merely scowled in response, eyes narrowed to thin red slits.
"More fun that you're going to be having, Starscream," he said levelly, smooth voice rumbling low.
"Really?" Starscream responded mildly. He paused dramatically for a moment, then added, "Wait, was that supposed to be some sort of threat? How delightful!"
"Take it in whatever way you wish, Starscream," Prowl answered noncommittally.
"Ah, Prowl," Starscream purred in amusement. "Good to see that some things never change. Megatron sends his warmest regards, by the way. You remember him, yes? Big? Silver? Liked you an awful lot, once upon a time?"
Prowl scowled again, refusing to verbally take the bait, but he did take a threatening step or two toward Starscream's berth, his doorwings raised high with annoyance. Good old Prowl, Starscream thought, gleaming a taunting and provocative grin at the tactician.
"Stop it, both of you," Swoop growled, stepping in.
There was deep and almost impressive authority in her voice, and Starscream realized that she was using it to cow Prowl, who gave her a measuring look, surprise subtly flickering over his features…and then he subsided like the good, obedient little warrior that he was. Swoop was obviously learning, then. For all Starscream knew, she had all the warriors in the Autobot ranks kowtowing to her and catering to her every whim by now, just like her predecessor.
Starscream turned his head to look at her then, ignoring the faint sense of dizziness that passed through him as a result. He stared at Swoop, and she met his gaze squarely…and then Starscream found that he couldn't look away from her. Or, more accurately, that he didn't want to look away from her. What he wanted to do was to leap off the berth and shove her against the closest wall and… He gritted his teeth, trying to force such thoughts from his mind, trying to block the images that trailed after the thoughts like dry leaves caught up in a gust of wind, trying to calm himself in the face of her being real and, worse, standing right there, only a couple of meters away from him. So close and yet so far…
Despite his efforts, as if of its own volition, one of his arms started to yank violently at one of the restraints that was tethering him. It didn't give, so he just kept yanking at it, over and over again and with steadily increasing force, until the restraint began to chafe and then bite into his arm. He didn't even feel it.
Involuntarily, Swoop took a step toward Starscream…and then yelped when, unexpectedly, Prowl grabbed hold of her firmly and silently, staying her. He gave the other two Dinobots a curt jerk of his chin toward Starscream. They moved to hold Starscream down, to stop his struggling none-too-gently.
"Careful!" Swoop admonished them. "Don't ruin all my hard work."
Starscream struggled against the grip of the two Dinobots, but even if he hadn't been restrained and had been at one hundred percent - which he wasn't, not by a long shot - he couldn't have pushed them off of him. One Dinobot alone was much stronger than he was. Arguably, Swoop, the smallest of them, was stronger than he was, his only advantage over her being that he outweighed her. Two Dinobots against him was…decidedly unfair. Of course, that was why they were there in the first place, to be unfairly overpowering and intimidating. And eventually, because he had no other choice, Starscream surrendered to their superior strength, flopping back against the berth in frustration and panting from exertion. Vague warnings were flashing across his diagnostics about…something. He paid them no mind.
He paid them no mind because Swoop, after shaking off Prowl's grip on her with a displeased scowl and then giving him a vague gesture that clearly said "Stay there," was approaching him. There was an odd look on her face as she moved toward him, as if she suddenly wasn't quite all there. Ducking around Grimlock, she stood at the side of Starscream's berth, her arms folded over her chest, regarding him inquisitively for a long moment. Starscream, held down firmly by Dinobot strength, could only stare helplessly back at her, still panting but not only from exertion now, while everything that he was, every instinct that he possessed, was screaming at him to somehow throw off Swoop's brothers and gather her to him and pull her down on the berth and-
And then Swoop was suddenly leaning down, was suddenly kissing him. It was a hard kiss, and there was longing in it, and as it went on everything - every thought, every possible word that he might utter, every course of action that he might undertake, every desire except one, everything - instantly drained from Starscream. The pressure on his body eased up for some reason - likely because of surprise on the other Dinobots' parts - and he was able to reach up, as much as the tethering restraints allowed, to pull at Swoop, to pull her down toward him. She didn't protest, not for the awkward half-embrace, but she did protest when Prowl abruptly yanked her away.
They said words to each other after that, and Swoop was obviously displeased, scowling severely up at Prowl, but Starscream paid them no mind, barely heard them at all. His processors were too busy reeling, his sensory net tingling with sensation that raced voraciously through him. Rather than easing the want of her, the kiss had made it worse, drowning the more rational voice in his head that wondered why in the world she'd done it. He didn't care. He just wanted…more. He was gathering his strength to struggle against his bonds again, Dinobots be damned, and he was stayed only by a piercing cry that suddenly and quite obviously came from Swoop. He cranked his head over to look at her, alarmed. There was a pained expression on her face, she was gasping for breath, and she had both arms pressed tightly over her chest. And then her entire body jerked and she began to collapse against Prowl, her legs no longer up to the task of supporting her weight.
Prowl called urgently for Ratchet over his comm as Swoop collapsed against him, and he lowered her gently to the floor. Starscream, meanwhile, began to struggle violently, ignoring warnings that flashed across his diagnostics, but this only prompted Grimlock to practically sit on him, while Slag just stared, dumbfounded, at Swoop. Ratchet skidded into the room then, took in the scene for a split-second, and then made a dash for Swoop's side, pausing only to make a quick pit stop at Starscream's berth.
Without a word to the Seeker or to anyone else, Ratchet injected something into one of the lines that were feeding into Starscream's systems, and his world almost instantly began to go black. His ineffectual struggles against the restraints and against Grimlock ceased entirely as his body began to go completely numb. The last thing that he heard was Swoop beginning to utter a constant wail; the wavering note of it seemed to Starscream to go on and on, stretched into infinity, eternity, as he lost consciousness, chasing him down into blackness. The last thought that entered his mind was some entirely absurd notion that he needed to help her, to protect her, that that was his job. But then… Then there was nothing.