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Acid Rain	By : ANGELAMDOWNES Category: Transformers > G1 > AU/AR Views: 2992 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers or its characters, and I make no profit off this work.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Author's Note- Hello this is my first fic of this dark a nature so I would ask that you read the warnings carefully before reading and no flamers please. It's AU so you can imagine it however you want.

This story was partially inspired by Kami Count D's 'Crime and Punishment' fic and I would recommend you all to read it if you have not already (also if you like Starscream/Ironhide as a pairing 'Crime and Punishment's' companion fic 'The Enemy You Know' is also a very enjoyable read). Both are on fanfiction.net.

Unbetaed.

Disclaimer- I do not own Transformers or its characters.

Warnings- Rated MA. Non-con/graphic rape, violence, perhaps some slight gore and mutilation near/at the beginning, there may be consensual slash in later chapters, Transformer swearing, angst, depression, death, trauma, mentions of masturbation.

Units of Time:-

Astrosecond- 1 second

Klik- 1 minute

Cycle- 1 hour

Orn- 1 day

Decacycle- 1 week

Meta-cycle- 1 month

Solar cycle- 1 year

Vorn- 1 million years

Italics- Flashbacks/thoughts/memories/link speak.

Bold- Comm speak.

Recognisable lines are borrowed/paraphrased from the 2007-2011 movies, accompanying games and other Transformers media.

I hope you enjoy the chapter and please review.

Chapter Four- First Light
Hook and Knock Out normally got along well running the med-bay together, both perfectionists in their own ways by nature, but the situation was straining even their close friendship, camaraderie being pushed to the limit. The fact was there was no offer by their leaders to take control of the growing problems.
Megatron was focussed on Starscream, Soundwave was trying to protect and reassure his creations while working out the practicalities of their inevitable energon rationing and Shockwave was nowhere to be found…
Those Seekers not injured had barricaded themselves in their communal area and the younger ones could be heard wailing from the other side of the base.
What wasn’t helping at that particular moment was that Knock Out’s bondmate Breakdown was constantly looking at the Stunticon of the same designation with thinly veiled disgust, intensifying the smaller mech’s paranoia no end, his frame trembling violently as the purple and green mech tried to tend to his injuries.
After sending the shivering mech off to curl up with a whimpering Dead End in the Stunticon’s quarters, the CMO glared at his immediate subordinate and Breakdown’s smirk and stalked off to tend to the severely damaged Conehead trine.
Thunder rolled loudly and the energy of the electric storm audibly crackled through the thick stone and concrete walls.
A mere cycle later Hook and Knock Out faced off in the centre of the med-bay, growling venomously at each other but, before they could launch at each other snarling threats (Hook on the automobile’s finish, Knock Out on his superior’s optics), the high-pitched piercing shrieking of a life-support machine flat lining reached their audios and they both dove for Motormaster’s berth instead, throwing their pent up frustrated energies into saving not just the foreboding mech but his gestalt brothers as well.
When the massive Decepticon lay, spark pulse weak but there, and as stable as could be expected, Hook sighed and offered his vain companion a small smile. ‘I apologise, threatening your paintjob was uncalled for.’
The ruby red mech shrugged, offering an energon-stained servo for Hook to shake with his equally discoloured appendage. After doing so, the senior medic sent Knock Out off to get cleaned up (noticing the grimace on his subordinate’s faceplates) with his mate before dropping exhausted into a nearby chair, drifting into recharge as the door slid closed behind his comrades.

Megatron sat beside Starscream’s temporary berth listening to a memory file he had of his second singing to drown out the pounding rain outside and the throbbing ache within his spark chamber. It benefitted the former more than the latter. He hoped his CMO was right in saying that the replacement vocaliser would allow his Seeker to do so as beautifully again.
The tyrant hadn’t meant to damage the flier permanently, only wanting the younger mech to be quiet at the time, he’d simply misjudged the pressure he was putting on the delicate device. He’d gotten his wish for a long while as Starscream had to learn to speak with his mutilated vocaliser without using it too often as Hook claimed it would be broken entirely, until it and the flier adjusted. For decacycles the SIC was reduced to writing most of what he wanted to say on datapads and had to stay behind after each and every meeting to put his opinions forth properly.
Even then the sight of Starscream trembling and shying away from him wasn’t a pleasant one.
It together riled and saddened him, the gladiator side abhorring the display of weakness, while the remaining scraps of the rest of his being despised seeing his Seeker in such a state in equal measure.
It never used to be like this, so hard to keep himself reigned in, but then his urges weren’t satisfied as often as before. One slaughter in a blue moon didn’t compare to ornly killing and even Autobot prisoners were getting fewer and farer between.
If only Prowl had joined their side, his skills combined with Soundwave’s would have won Megatron the war vorns ago. As it was the two engaged in a constant battle of wits that seemed to remain in a perpetual stalemate despite both their tireless efforts. It was why he’d sent his own second after his brother’s, the Praxian’s deactivation would be a decisive blow to the Autobot forces especially as it would send his bondmate, the third in command of the opposite faction, to the Well with him.
Yet again the black and white mech cheated death, by all rights he should have died when Praxus had been destroyed.
Luck had fallen in his brother’s favour, the good, just and honest Prime and his merry band of altruists.
Whereas Starscream and he and been cursed to lose once more through not any error on their side nor any skilful manoeuvre or strategy on the part of their enemy, but because of the fragging weather!
Maybe Primus was trying to tell him something…
No that was ridiculous, these kinds of storms were growing in frequency; it hadn’t been a malicious act aimed at them, just a natural event occurring at an inopportune time.
Gently he reached out his servo to lay it over the smaller mech’s. As far as Starscream knew his leader never visited him when he was injured but that was only because Megatron made sure to only go when he was sedated, wanting to make sure he wouldn’t be responsible for another of his second’s terminations.
Checking his internal chronometer the Warlord realised that Starscream’s sedative would be wearing off soon.
He still wasn’t sure what he was going to say… Soundwave suggested giving the flier a datapad on the behaviour of gladiators, appeal to the Seeker’s scientific nature in an attempt to help Starscream rationalise it, make it less overwhelming.
But that seemed too clinical, at least on its own.
The wind howled miserably as Starscream’s optics fluttered blearily open; normally blood red the pair had turned almost orange, disturbing Megatron more than he would like to admit.
The Seeker stared up at him for a moment before fleeing, stumbling, to the other side of the room, keening as he tore the drip painfully from his arm.
Freezing, remembering what Hook had said about not making Starscream feel trapped, Megatron crossed the room into his main living area and dropped gracefully into a cross-legged position facing his Seeker.
‘You can stay in there as long as you want to Starscream, no one will come in with you unless you want them to not even me, you’re safe I promise,’ the older mech murmured, holding the flier’s optics.
The Air Commander flinched as lightning struck the wall behind where he was sitting; shooting forwards back towards the berth in the centre of the room, pulling down a blanket to wrap around himself.
They stared at each other silently for a moment, the rain pattering on the roof, before Megatron unsubspaced the vocaliser and leaned forwards to place it carefully in Starscream’s area.
Seeing a flicker of curiosity cross the Seeker’s faceplates, the tyrant smiled encouragingly as Starscream inched his way forward, wings trailing along the ground as the flier kept himself low. A single digit reached out tentatively to trail along the small complicated piece of metal and a brief, quickly hidden, flash of recognition flickered across the Air Commander’s faceplates. In a sudden movement, he snatched the vocaliser off the floor and cradled it to himself before scurrying backwards far out of the Warlord’s reach.
Suppressing a grimace, Megatron turned towards the door as his CMO and TIC requested entry. Standing slowly so as not to startle Starscream and being sure to leave the door open, he left the Seeker’s sight.

Starscream held his ‘present’ possessively to himself, a fine tremor running through his frame, as he tried to piece together what was real and what wasn’t in his processor. He was almost certain the encounter with Soundwave had occurred but other things remained hazy in his mind. The vocaliser he recognised as being Hook’s work, the medic having constructed it especially for him in secret as a gift just in case Megatron ever allowed him to have the device replaced.
It would allow him to sing again and to speak in his native tongue more easily. So… did that mean other things would also be returned to him?
Did it matter? When he was so tired…?
He could remember ideas just flowing to him when he was younger, some were ridiculous and quickly discarded with a chuckle but others were rare gems of brilliance if he did say so himself. They had won the faction many battles after all, but more so when he was younger and before he’d been promoted. Now when the glimmer of a thought struggled to the fore it was too forced and unnatural to be of any use, something he came up with because his Commander had put him on the spot, and it was always disparaged by the Warlord and the other officers.
Staring down at himself, Starscream cringed violently in self-disgust, optics screwing shut and tanks churning sickeningly. Ventilating harshly, the flier tried desperately not to purge in what he knew to be his Master’s personal quarters, not wanting to know what the larger mech would do if he did. Wrapping his stolen blanket securely around himself, the Seeker curled into the side of the berth, making a cocoon for himself, new vocaliser pressed firmly but gently into his chassis.
Steady waves of pain and fear washed over his spark and processor and he clutched at himself, digging his talons into his helm and, after losing his grip on Megatron’s gift which was caught safely in the folds of the coverlet, raised his servo to scratch and grasp at his chassis above his spark chamber. Keening softly he jumped when a small servo stroked his faceplate. Forcing one of his optics open, the flier was somehow unsurprised to see Hook standing in front of him.
Automatically uncurling, Starscream allowed the medic, one of the few mechs outside of his trine he trusted, to examine him, the blue light of the scanner flowing carefully and thoroughly up and down his frame as the CMO’s engines hummed soothingly. Frame calming, the Seeker’s systems wound down, negating the panic attack before it could begin.
A system and cable relaxant painkiller was slipped painlessly into his arm after the Constructicon slowly drew the blanket away, softly pushing it back in position when he was done. ‘You’re putting too much strain on your systems,’ Hook made sure to hold Starscream’s optics to be sure he understood, ‘take things slowly, try not to force things and… you’ll be fine.’
The flier slumped, hearing the hint of a lie or perhaps uncertainty in the medic’s otherwise reassuring tone. It was true though that when he stopped trying to make his processor fit together how he knew it should a few little things did seem to fall into what felt like their natural place.
Sighing a little, his ventilations came easier and when Hook smiled at him reassuringly, he mustered a twitch of the lips back.
A few blinks later and the CMO was gone and Starscream could hear quiet voices and what he thought was the mention of his designation a few feet away. Raising his helm weakly he saw three silhouettes in the shadows just on the other side of the threshold.
Worry gnawed steadily at his spark.
Megatron never just gave him anything without wanting something in return, even his compliments were backhanded, and Soundwave’s word had never been one to be trusted.
Despite the physical nature of the device it was no small trinket. It meant too much to Starscream surely for Megatron to just hand it over…?
Slumping against the berthside, wishing to be anywhere but in his Commander’s quarters to be gawped at, the Seeker’s optics slowly shuttered as the relaxant took full effect.
He didn’t fall back into recharge but his frame, regardless of the nature of his thoughts, didn’t tense.
His memories flickered as they shuffled around in his processor trying to settle, listening to the almost hypnotic rainfall on the roof and the rhythmic tapping of hailstones against the balcony door. If not for the jarring bangs of thunder and lightning the melody created would be soothing.
Starscream was sure the flashes of colour against the sky would be stunning, something the artists of Vos would have taken delight in recreating in a myriad of styles, like Megatron in so many ways. Beautiful, powerful, deadly, destructive, uncaring, cruel…
Cold. Sparkless.
A barely there hiss of pain briefly drew his attention and he cocked his helm. When nothing followed and the hushed conversation continued, Starscream pulled the blanket tighter around himself, beginning to feel a stirring in his tanks but only now realising he had nothing to purge to satisfy the feeling.
Sighing, pushing back painful memories as hard as he could, the flier focussed his gaze on a speck of dull purple on the otherwise completely silver wall, a spot of his own dried energon stained into and marring the perfection of the rest of the metal.
You’re a glitch! A taint to the honour of our cause!
Sniffling, drops of optic fluid trickled slowly down his faceplates and Starscream sank his denta into the blanket to try to keep himself silent.

Hook rubbed his helm with a barely-audible moan, thankful that his leader had his back to him.
Thoughts: inappropriate. Soundwave reprimanded sternly when Hook accepted his comm. The group had moved away from the berthroom doorway and, while the TIC and CMO stood nearest it, Megatron had crossed the room to stand nearer his map of Cybertron.
Biting back a sarcastic reply, the medic mumbled an apology over the line and tried to shrug off the punishment. He had only been thinking it was times like these he missed his mentor. Though many thought he and Ratchet to be of a similar age that wasn’t quite true, there being at least a vorn between them, and the Autobot medic had been his tutor at the medical academy. The older mech would know what to do in a situation like this; he was so much more empathic and could always help the mentally and emotionally injured better than Hook ever could.
Once, the Constructicon thought himself in love with the Hatchet, but that was vorns ago and he knew the CMO of the opposite faction had a new favourite. Fragging First Aid, such a perfect little apprentice, such a-
A sharper pain burst through his helm than before dragging a louder hiss of pain from him and, for a moment, the medic blacked out on his pedes. Exhausted, Hook’s optics glazed over and he blinked violently to clear his vision.
‘What do you say then both of you?’ The tyrant turned to look at them, ‘what should I do about him?’
Soundwave motioned for the green and purple mech to speak first and Hook sighed inwardly, knowing the Warlord hated replies like the one he was about to offer but he having none other to give. ‘I believe all we can do My Lord is to make sure he’s cared for and treated well and then… wait and see.’
Megatron nodded slowly then turned to his third who nodded in agreement with the mech beside him. Sighing loudly through his vents the tyrant flicked his servo indicating for them to leave, telling the CMO to be prepared for Starscream’s surgery hopefully the following orn.
Hook and Soundwave soon parted ways, the TIC heading for his office and the medic back to his medbay. As the Constructicon entered, intending to check on the patients still filling up the berths and hooked up to various pieces of equipment, he let out a surprised shout as strong arms grabbed him from behind and lifted him clear off the ground. He was lowered, loudly protesting his treatment, onto a spare berth.
Knock Out appeared in front of him brandishing a syringe like a weapon, smirking down at his teacher.
Staring at it, the CMO relaxed resignedly and with some relief back against the soft metal, knowing he couldn’t break Breakdown’s grip which was on the brink of denting the armour on both his shoulders. Twisting his arm to bear a good energon line to his apprentice he allowed his optics to close as it slid in moments later, feeling Knock Out caressing his arms and the younger medic’s bondmate loosen his grip as he slipped under.
Both mechs allowed themselves an appreciative look and pressed their lip components against those of the peacefully recharging medic. Gently lifting Hook up, the most junior medic carried the head of their section to his and his mate’s shared quarters.
Knock Out set about temporarily taking over Hook’s duties, beginning to check the patients he and his lover had conspired to stop their superior from examining wincing as the storm outside jolted things around and disturbed some of the electrical equipment.
As he worked with a scalpel on a mech’s arm thunder shook the foundations of the almost aerial base and his servo slipped, scoring his paintwork. Snarling viciously, the cherry-red mech snapped his tool and tossed them across the room into the incinerator.
After a few kliks he calmed himself down, comforting himself with the notion that Breakdown would repair him, and got on with his work.
This was to make Hook proud of them after all, regardless of Knock Out and the senior medic’s little spat earlier, to perhaps start seeing them as more than just subordinates, he couldn’t afford to risk messing it up again not even over his paintjob.

Soundwave paused outside his office, servo on the door, before turning and heading back along the corridor he had come. Not only were his symbiotes upset but his bondmate was trapped in the cycloptic mech’s laboratory, a bolt of lightning having struck the side of the workshop and disrupted the internal electronics, sealing the only door in and out shut.
Missing his partner, the telepath returned to rest of his family to check and reassure himself that Ravage and Laserbeak were coping looking after the younger ones alone.
He would return to his responsibilities straight after; his family came first after all.

Megatron paced in his living room like a lion in a cage, four steps to one side then four back again, optics locked on his open berthroom door.
Wait and see…
Was that truly all he could do?
No. He could carry on with his plans to try and restore Starscream to what he was before. Having a properly working vocaliser would bring the Seeker some pleasure wouldn’t it? And his colours back…
It won’t be enough you know, Optimus whispered snidely, two nice actions do not make up for two solar cycles of abuse.
I know it doesn’t! The tyrant snapped, baring his denta, but it’s a start isn’t it?
Do you not think he’s owed an apology? His brother’s voice almost sounded normal.
Yes! But what good would it do? Actions speak louder than words do they not? Megatron tried to dismiss the question.
Are you sure they do with Starscream? Optimus asked softly.
It’s a statement true of everyone, Megatron growled, pausing in his movements. Then, less sure of himself, isn’t it?
There was no answer and the tyrant slid into his chair, resting his forehelm in his servo. He stayed that way for a cycle unable to motivate himself into moving when a quiet clicking sound reached his audios.
Looking up, Starscream’s optics briefly met his before the Seeker took half a step backwards so he was mostly out of sight and averted his gaze, servos wrapped tightly around the brown-gold doorframe. Megatron slowly rose, not wanting to startle the flier, and stepped towards his second.
The Air Commander’s frame shrunk into itself as it always did when his leader approached him, especially when Starscream wasn’t sure of his leader’s mood. Deep down the Seeker knew the reaction was ridiculous, even standing at rigid attention he barely came to half the tyrant’s height…
Freezing, Megatron reached out a servo to lay over one of his Seeker’s, one digit stroking the delicate metal gently. ‘Starscream…’
The flier jumped, the startled movement travelling up the Warlord’s arm.
‘It’s alright Starscream; nothing bad is going to happen…’ Megatron trailed off, the concept of giving comfort completely foreign to him now. He tried to grasp on to his old self, the one that would easily have stopped Optimus crying when his younger brother fell over.
The Seeker watched him unblinkingly, most of his processor dedicating itself to working out if the tyrant was still angry with him or not; Megatron had been known to hide his true emotions many times after all.
Keeping the single point of touch light and non-threatening, the older mech watched the confusion and the insecurity swirl around Starscream’s unnaturally coloured optics.
Why had he sent the others away? He had no idea what he was doing…
Lightning struck the roof and the lighting shut off, plunging the room and both mechs into complete darkness. The Seeker let out a half-scream half-mewl of distress and Megatron pulled him forward to hold him carefully, shushing his second softly, beginning to rock the smaller mech on the balls of his pedes. Whispering reassuring nonsense, finding it a bit easier now that he couldn’t see the smaller mech and the product of his mistake, the Decepticon Lord ran his servos up and down the younger mech’s wings to try and calm their trembling.
They stayed that way until the lighting shuddered back on and Starscream instantly began to struggle now the illusion of care offered in the shadows had been shattered.
It was still Megatron; this was still one of his sadistic games. But the temporary darkness had allowed the flier to hide from that for a while.
Sighing, a burst of hot air warming Starscream’s rapidly cooling frame, Megatron let his Seeker go and stepped backwards allowing the flier to go back into his constructed haven.
The Warlord fumbled for a klik then lit on something that may get the Seeker talking again. ‘You… may have your vocaliser replaced tomorrow if you wish. Then… back to your own quarters…?’
Starscream’s optics sparkled for a moment. Being able to speak again and freedom of a sort sent a bolt of hope through his spark. He was not to be confined here then? He could go back to his own berth and, most importantly, he could be alone.
Spending too much time with Megatron, especially with no one else there to divert the larger mech’s attention, was dangerous. It gave him more opportunities for mistakes.
Starscream watched, some of his apprehension fading, as the tyrant turned and walked across the room. Turning back into his leader’s quarters, he sat at the foot of the berth to wait for the following orn, aching to get away as soon as possible.
Down in a lower area of the base, Starscream’s Seekers wept bitterly with the storm.

The next orn found Starscream unmoved from where he had spent the night cycle. He had recharged sitting up, waiting patiently and not allowing excitement to run through his energon lines until he was sure Megatron was truly going to let him leave.
Hook arrived not a cycle after the first sunrise, though no Cybertronian could see the massive ball of energy and light, to collect him. Megatron stayed with the map between himself and them as they left, easily noting the relief dancing through his Air Commander’s frame.
However, this emotion was short lived in the flier as he and the medic passed some of the other mechs in the army. His spark twisted as they brushed by him, respect for personal space not in abundance in the Decepticons. Easing his frame closer to the CMO’s, Starscream tried to ignore the fear steadily building in his spark.
He knew he wasn’t one of the stronger mechs in the faction but he compensated that by being fast and agile, using his processor against his opponent’s brawn.
But now with his most important assets all but impotent he was left feeling more vulnerable than ever.
Entering the medbay a nerve-wracking ten kliks later, Starscream would have relaxed if Breakdown hadn’t smirked at him. Seeing the larger mech in a pose so similar to Megatron’s made him shudder. Instantly Knock Out’s bondmate assumed a more friendly stance, trying to convey to the Seeker that he had been attempting to be friendly, not wanting Hook to be disappointed in him.
Knock Out would definitely not be pleased.
The crimson mech himself stepped out from the back offices and offered Starscream one of his special smiles, one that was normally only bestowed on Breakdown or occasionally Hook. His faceplates and optics glowed with it until the senior medic had slipped a sedative into the flier’s energon lines.
Before going to get the SIC the Constructicon had double checked that all the remaining mechs still under their care were stable. Besides, though certainly a delicate operation, it was normally barring rare complications a quick one with a swift recovery time. It would allow Starscream to return to his own quarters within a cycle of completion.
Knock Out came forward more to observe than to offer support, Hook more than capable of carrying out the procedure entirely alone.
A cycle and a half later, the CMO stepped back and dusted his servos off, silently walking away to splash liquid on his faceplates and stretch out his aching limbs.
He didn’t notice the two sets of optics locked hungrily onto his frame and when he turned back his two junior medics were cleaning his tools for him diligently.
Leaving them to it, he went into his private office to write up his next report for the ever lengthening file on the Decepticon second-in-command.

He could hear their distressed keening a mere klik after leaving the medbay.
Starscream didn’t immediately go to his quarters to Hook’s chagrin. He had intended to, wishing for nothing else than to be alone until he felt more himself and in control of his erratic emotions, but the need to look after his fliers won out over his own needs though he would never admit it.
The Seekers knew he valued them anyway if not necessarily above himself. He made sure they were given the praise when he trained and flew with them that he was constantly denied and, until Megatron had forbidden it, tried to give each trine some individual attention as often as he could.
They were his fliers and he had a duty of care to each and every one of them.
He was more than aware that he would lose some of them but he tried his best to ensure that most of them returned home when they went out on missions.
More than anything, he saw to it that none of them were ever denied the sky unless absolutely necessary.
Walking down the corridor with Knock Out and Hook flanking him and Breakdown bringing up the rear, he approached the Seeker’s area of the base. Anxiety built up within him at the idea of being in an enclosed space with so many other mechs but he tried to rein it in by repeating one of his most treasured beliefs to himself.
My wingbrothers would never harm me.
Approaching the door, he paused and took a moment to compose himself. It wasn’t just the first time he had spoken with his new vocaliser, and that was going to sound strange by itself, it was the first time he had spoken aloud since…
A violent shiver wracked his frame. Hundreds of mechs in such a small space, trapping him…
My wingbrothers would never harm me.
Taking a deep ventilation, he almost jumped when each medic laid a supportive servo on him. Two on his wings, one each from Hook and the far vainer medic, and one far larger one on his back representing Breakdown. When the larger mech hadn’t harmed or touched him when he awoke from his operation, the apprentice medic being the first mech he saw when his optics fluttered open, Starscream had relaxed around him enough to feel comfortable walking with him as long as the other two were there.
Raising his fist he pounded on the door and pinged all of his flier’s comm links, apart from the ones resting in the medbay. For a moment all sounds but the storm outside ceased before there was a rustling and several crashes from inside.
The door opened to reveal Sunstorm and several other Seekers to their Air Commander. They chittered at him apologetically and he indicated with his servo for them to go back inside. As he followed them in, he could feel their comm lines opening up to him and he began to speak through that medium to make sure he was heard.
I know it is hard but you are strong Decepticon warriors, I need you all to live up to that title as you always have done. The storm will not last forever and we will all fly again. Have you forgotten procedure of how to deal with these times? Spark bond among your trines and ensure the youngest are looked after. I know I have not been here but… it has been unavoidable. Now, you all need to do as I tell you and everything will be fine.
His voice served to calm the Seekers somewhat and they listened in avid silence, sitting on the floor and looking at him to show they were paying attention.
I… I cannot stay as I have an operation to recover from. Can I rely on you all to uphold our reputation from now on?
This was easier than he thought it would be, using the comms meant he could stay slightly away from them and so did not feel overwhelmed or overly pressured. They all nodded but a few servos went up both from the younger section and the older ones.
Yes?
‘Are you alright Air Commander?’ It was the Seeker Starscream had rescued from the rain, his armour replaced in a gleaming blue, clearly Knock Out’s work.
‘He’s fine,’ Hook answered for the SIC, Starscream having extended the link to him as well, ‘he just needs rest.’
The Decepticon Seekers seemed to accept this and the Air Commander went to leave before a number of pings were sent to his closing comm line and he paused, turning back to face them.
Air Commander, surprisingly it was Acid Storm who spoke apparently on behalf of all, a mech renowned for staying off everyone’s radar but still one of the most senior Seekers on the base because of his service to Shockwave and his specialised skills (ironically as the storm was not created by him he could not end it and neither could his trine). We, any of us, would invite you to share in a bond if we were permitted to.
Starscream stared at them for a moment, his spark and processor healing marginally at the carefully masked affection he could see in all their faceplates. Nodding to them in thanks, he exited with the CMO and Hook’s apprentices following him.

The medics dropped him off at his quarters and he locked the door behind him securely before racing into his washracks, the only thing he had wanted besides his privacy when he had woken up in the Decepticon Lord’s private chambers, blasting the liquid on full force to try and get the feel of everyone else’s servos off him.
Just wanting to feel clean he scrubbed himself raw until his quarters were full of the sound of his sobs.
He didn’t know Megatron was watching him through his secret cameras in the tyrant’s personal quarters, nor that the Warlord’s spark clenched painfully while he was chided by the voice in his helm as Starscream slid down the wall to curl into a ball directly under the showerhead, shaking uncontrollably.
Out on Megatron’s balcony the rain finally ate through the last of the Decepticon Lord’s throne.

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Acid Rain