Title: Hypocrite
Author: Serpentine Wisdom
Fandom: Transformers
Characters: Megatron, mentions Starscream, Skywarp and Thundercracker
Pairing: Implied former Megatron/Starscream
Warnings: Implied robot slash (which is technically impossible sine robots don't have genders but they look like guys, hence the warning), some mildly disturbing thoughts etc.
Disclaimer: I don't own any incarnation of Transformers, Megatron or Starscream and I'm not making any profit out of this fanfic so please, don't sue.
Summary: Megatron is always accusing Starscream of being a traitor…

Author note: For aesthetic reasons the Megatron I imagine is the 2007 live-action movie version (since G1 Megatron looked like an old man in diapers with a bucket on his head) and Starscream like a cross between G1 and the 2007 movie (because he's too vain to be that ugly – even if I thought it looked kick-ass). Oh, and I consider Galvatron and Megatron to have different personalities, in my mind Galvatron is Megatron on drugs and therefore Megatron's reasoning does not transfer to Galvatron. This is mainly G1 by the way.

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To many transformers, Decepticon and Autobot alike, Megatron was a living symbol of the Decepticons, an iconic figure that had lead them for so long that very few could imagine the dark-minded, military faction without his presence. The Autobots feared him, as much for his cruelty and ruthlessness as for his power, and the Decepticons followed him out of respect for the very same qualities. He was not a compassionate leader such as Optimus Prime with his soft-minded drivel but he was fair, in that strange way only Decepticons could appreciate. He was hard on failure and approached traitors with grim determination that spoke coldly in its finality. By silent consensus both sides agreed that double-crossing Megatron was an unwise move, even though he would not hesitate to turn on any deal he made – having only power as his measuring stick for right and wrong. No one survived betraying Megatron, no Decepticon was spared – that was the rule they all paid homage to. If you were a traitor there was no escape.

Unless you were Starscream.

How many times had the jet escaped the closing grip of death now? How many times had he attempted to take Megatron's place, deceitful like a virus nested deep in the core, without facing deactivation? It was not mercy or sympathy that stayed Megatron's hand but something vague that could be likened to guilt. The knowledge that this treacherous, cowardly and hateful mech that was his air commander was his very own creation. Every time he was about to fire the last shot or deliver the final blow he was stopped by the jet's ruby-red optics. Optics that had once regarded him with such warmth and admiration but now remained scathingly sharp, hatred burning fervently in them, even as he was begging and grovelling for his life like a worm. It reminded him that many, many millions of years ago it had been he, Megatron, who had been the traitor.

He looked at Starscream and saw a snivelling, pathetic scrapheap of a mech possessed by an all-consuming hatred and warped ambition. He looked at him and felt his fingers itching to break something, his very spark aching to destroy the redundant existence before him. He wanted to break him, rip his inner workings out for macabre display and feel that familiar sensation of energon making his hand slick and slippery. The almost physical revulsion he felt darkened his optics each time he thought of his second-in-command. Yet he still felt a strange relief whenever Starscream proved his worth to the decepticon cause and thus gave him a convenient excuse to cling to. As long as his air commander continued to show his mettle, continued to shoot down Autobots with practised ease, Megatron could convince himself as much as his troops that the jet's skill was the only thing keeping him alive even against the worst of their leader's fury.

It was a lie, the one lie all Decepticons pretended was true. Even all the skill in the universe couldn't keep you alive for so many millions of years when your every turn and step echoed of treachery and scheming. Because where Megatron ruled, there was no forgiveness.

There were rumours, never in front of him, of course, but they were there. Insidious little whispers, scornful remarks and off-handed comments between comrades. How could there not be? Megatron had never been a sympathetic or understanding transformer even in his best moments and few had ever accused him of being tolerant. Despite that he had repeatedly over-looked his second-in-command's constant treachery, always stopped any punishment just short of termination. Even the slower of the Decepticons would have noticed the pattern after six million years (not including the years spent dormant on Earth)– no matter how badly Megatron would beat Starscream after his numerous failed coups.

Starscream alone could defy death, because a long time ago, when they were both young and foolish he had sacrificed something for Megatron that could not be replaced or repaired. He had put his very spark (1), that which defined every transformer, on the line for him only to be betrayed and abandoned. Left behind as a piece of slag used up until it was worthless. Watching and waiting, desperately unwilling to believe his abandonment until finally his mind began to decay, rotting away like the corpse of a fleshling in the vice-like grip of time.

Starscream had spent a long time on that planet, unable to leave and cut off from any sentient life forms. When he had finally managed to return on his own, his body almost as broken as his mind, there had been nothing left of him. The very essence that was Starscream was warped beyond recognition and where there had once been an enthusiastic young warrior full of hopes and confidence there was now only dried up husk of a mech hanging on to his tattered pride like it was his only lifeline. Disillusionment and bitterness had painted his mind in bleak colours, hiding away the being that had once shone like the sun, fiercely and brightly, drawing others to him like light drew insects.

More than a few Decepticons had had difficulty reconciling the screeching, spiteful thing the jet had become with the force of nature that had left them – unaware as they were of what had happened. But it hadn't taken long before the new Starscream had completely overtaken the image of his old self had left behind, drowning it out with his antagonistic personality. In the end only Megatron and his wingmates seemed to remember what he had once been but Skywarp and Thundercracker had both discarded the idea of getting their friend, their brother, back long ago. Now they hated their wingmate with a passion that seethed beneath the surface, piling all of their own sense of abandonment, disappointment and longing into a conflicting aggression. They had lost their trine, something so incredible vital to any seeker that they could not function properly without it and they blamed Starscream and spat the word traitor more viciously than any other transformers.

Ever since their teamwork had been suffering, sliding further away from the near perfection it had been before. They could still pull of moves together with a technical precision that would leave any ground-based transformer in awe yet all experienced fliers who had seen them before would only shake their heads in resignation and disappointment. Looking closely, observing his top fliers silently, Megatron couldn't do anything but agree. They would execute manoeuvres and strategies instantly and without fail but there was somthing lacking that made their graceful flight seem dull and mechanical, a mere repetition of tried facts. It was then that Megatron truly came to understand that technical flawlessness was only a part of what made a trine great, something few with ground-based vehicle alt modes ever considered.

After a while even the Autobots had noticed it, despite lacking in any true understanding of seekers as they did. It was something intangible, abstract, that the top three fliers of the Decepticons had lost. In one fell swoop Megatron had not only had his only true companion ripped from himself but his most prized team as well. And the greatest irony of it all was that he had done it to himself. There were no simpering Autobots or incompetent subordinates he could place the blame on. He alone could be held responsible.

He had never considered any of his losses anything other than a way to make himself stronger – to rip out any insidious tendril of weakness that dared attach itself to him. Even with his most loyal troops he had always held the firm belief that those sacrificed to the Decepticon cause were merely lowly pawns who had outlived their usefulness. It was standard Decepticon philosophy, if you could not take care of yourself you were as good as worthless. The concept of personal grief had been alien to him from the start but there had been a sense of loss he was unfamiliar with as he realised that that Starscream, his Starscream, would never return.

At times Megatron could not distinguish what he hated Starscream for the most, there were so many factors, big and small. Part of it was the constant reminder of what he had done to the only mech he had ever connected with. But a different part despised the air commander for buckling under the pressure, for allowing himself to be twisted and broken and inspiring this unwelcome, all too Autobot-like feeling in him. Megatron and Starscream were caught in a deadlock. The more Starscream rebelled the more he was beaten and humiliated and each time he broke down into a snivelling mess he only succeeded in angering Megatron even more by sharply reminding him of what had once been. But the more violent Megatron became the more vicious and treacherous Starscream would turn, as if they were stuck in a competition of who hated the other the most. It was a cycle that could only continue to escalate and that could only be stopped with the death of one of them. But more than once Megatron wondered what would happen then. Would it all be resolved or would the anger, frustration and guilt still be there?

It was a question he preferred to leave unanswered. Of all transformers spread out in the universe, Starscream had known him the longest, it had always been Megatron and Starscream whether they were friends, lovers or bitter enemies. To think that one day there would be only one was inconceivable at the same time it was inevitable. One day… but not today he would tell himself, knowing he was only running away from the subject and it would ignite his anger at the one causing this inner conflict, these useless emotions, and those days Starscream could never do anything right. Those were the days when Starscream was beaten simply for being Starscream.

Yet each time he would call out traitor, the word disturbingly familiar, spoken before he was even aware of opening his mouth, and shame and berate his second-in-command for his lack of loyalty, a small voice would persistently whisper in his mind.

Hypocrite…

The End.

(1) I'm sort of angling for this event to have been what (POSSIBLE SPOILER) mutated his spark so it became indestructible.