Title: Inadequacies
Characters: Megatron/Starscream
Verse: Transformers Prime
Warnings: violence, sexual situations, attempts at spark merging
Summary: The dark energon has Megatron all riled up…unfortunately it has other some other less desirable side affects.
Notes: Okay, so this fic was inspired by fierceawakening's Cold and Rebirth. Those fics got me to thinking about what others kinds of affects the dark energon might have had on Megatron, and one thing led to another and the idea of the spark sex equivalent to impotence popped into my head. I hope poor old Megs forgives me!

He was ghosting along the darkened hallways of the ship, his sharp heels clicking sharply against the metal floor. His mood suited the surroundings; the lights were dim, a vestige of his command which Megatron's return had yet to reverse. Even with the energon stores they managed to amass he felt it a waste of precious resources to power lights in practically deserted hallways. They need not fear any darkness, if it was required they could always fall back onto infra red or radar and sonar navigation…they weren't deficient organics after all.

His aimless wandering was a direct result of Megatron's irrational insistence that HE, and he alone, would issue orders. It was an absurd proclamation, he was second in command, and part of his duties was to see to day to day operations. How was he supposed to perform such tasks without issuing any orders? It wouldn't last of course. As soon as Megatron's ego was soothed, once he'd reasserted his authority, he would begin delegating to his second again. In the meantime Starscream was at loose ends.

Of course the insane experiment with the dark energon might very well speed the entire process up. With the power of the Destroyer now running through his circuits, lodged in his very spark, Megatron's ego might not need much soothing. Starscream himself could only see futility in the plan. Mastery over vanquished and offline mechs seemed like mastery over inadequacy. Those empty husks did not have the intelligence, tenacity, cunning or strength to survive…they were worse than useless; they were failures at that which mattered most. Why Megatron thought they would be any more effective a second time around was beyond him, unless he saw his own guiding hand as that which would tip the balance. He scoffed to himself…no indeed, not much soothing would be required at all.

As Starscream rounded a corner he came to an abrupt halt at finding Soundwave waiting still and silent directly in his path.

"Yes," he snapped. "What is it?"

The fact that this bot was his only real company for several orbital cycles and he had refrained from clawing at his expressionless faceplate…except for that one time…was testament to Starscream fortitude.

"Tell Starscream to report to my quarters…immediately," Megatron's voice directed from Soundwave.

Starscream raised an optic ridge. "Why the messenger mech? He could have simply used the comms."

Soundwave said nothing, unwavering in his stillness. It smack of hurt pride.

"Glad to see I'm not the only one he feels he must put in his place," Starscream chuckled meanly.

"Immediately," was reproduced a second time, volume increased noticeably.

"Alright, fine, I'm going," Starscream sneered; brushing past his compatriot, making sure his wing clipped the other's shoulder fin.

He did not rush, but kept a brisk steady pace. He learned early on in his interactions with his Lord that there was a thin line between deference and sycophancy, and Megatron expected one to be ready to jump to one side or the other at the slightest cue. Starscream considered himself particularly adept at navigating such relations and knew the key was not to anticipate. Presumption could get one slagged quite thoroughly. He was not entirely sure of Megatron's current temper, he'd closeted himself in his quarters not long after the dark energon lunacy, and this was the first he'd heard from him. Falling over himself to get to him might be seen as toadying and result in derision or scorn; delaying could be seen as disrespect and defiance. Better to take the middle ground until he could survey the field so to speak.

He schooled his face in his most mild expression as he slowed before Megatron's door, pushing the chime to request entry. The door slid open a moment later and he glided in, keeping his head low, and searching the gloom for his master.

He was not hard to spot. There was an eerie, almost imperceptible purple glow, emanating from the seams of his chassis. It hung about him like smoke. He was pacing at the far side of the room, a pointed glare aimed in Starscream's direction.

"You asked to see me, My Lord," Starscream said.

"What took you so long?" Megatron demanded, not bothering to his stop his erratic movements.

Starscream tilted his head lower. "I came as soon as I received your message. Soundwave might have had some difficulty in tracking me down," he could not resist, "perhaps if you had used the comms…"

He did not have the opportunity to finish as Megatron was across the room with acute speed, one large hand closing around Starscream's crest.

"Perhaps if you were in the command centre as a second should be Soundwave would not have to scour the ship looking for you," he punctuated his statement by slowly twisting his wrist, the torque forcing Starscream's head down and to the side.

It galled of course, but pride was a weakness Starscream could not abide. Luckily for him what little he had was easily swallowed.

"I will endeavor to make myself more available in the future, My Lord," he managed to grit out, pain radiating from his neck as several vital cables kinked at the unnatural angle.

"You will make yourself more available NOW," Megatron countered, shoving him back fiercely and letting go of his crest, sending Starscream stumbling back into the door and onto the floor.

He affected a cry of surprise to help suppress a sigh. More exercises in control then, and those of the most banal kind. Pleasurable in many respects, but something Starscream could manage on minimal processing power as the dark energon seemed to have roused Megatron to such a state that he was incapable of their more subtle games.

He cast his eyes up. "I await your command," he murmured.

Grinning down at him viciously Megatron bent to grasp him by the upper arms, jerking him upright, only to slam him up against the door with the following motion. Starscream's entire frame rattled and the grunt forced from him was all too real.

"Open up, pet," Megatron purred, pulling Starscream to eye level, the metal screeching as he kept him pinned against the door.

On any other occasion he would have quickly complied, but the wafting glow bathing him and the discordant hum which Starscream could feel through his master's hands made him pause.

"My Lord, perhaps this is not such a…ah prudent idea of the moment," he tried. When he was met with only silence he continued. "I do not suggest further strain on your spark after it so recently sustained such…trauma."

A ferocious backhand was his reward for such consideration, the vent on the left side of his face denting, the distortion causing an irritating whistle as the air was pushed through.

"You will be worrying about your own trauma if I have to repeat myself," Megatron smoothly informed him.

Stymied, Starscream pushed back against the metal behind him for leverage. Raising his legs to wrap around Megatron's waist, he pulled their lower bodies together, even as he slid his chest plate open.

Taking a moment to survey what was before him Megatron soon dipped his head down to run his glossa over Starscream's smoothly armored spark chamber, chuckling as he squirmed at the sensation.

"Whatever did you do with yourself while I was away?" he hummed against the chamber.

Starscream, unable to slow his increasing ventilations, cursed. The infuriating whistling was broadcasting his mounting excitement in a manner which was undeniable.

"The Autobots were most accommodating," he tried none the less. "Prime was especially eager. I am not entirely sure if he saw it as a way to forge bonds of peace, or if he simply liked the idea of having something that was once yours."

Sharp teeth scrapped against the chamber's armour in warning. The burning sensation sent his heels kicking and an undignified whine to escape.

Pulling back to look him in the optics, Megatron, narrowed his own.

"You are incapable of speaking anything but lies…fortunately for you, for any truth in that matter could prove most fatal."

Deeming it foolhardy to draw out this particular conversation, Starscream opted to snap open his spark chamber. The churning radiance prevailed over the sickly purple glow enveloping them, pushing it to the margins, and heating the space between them. Megatron rumbled something unintelligible Starscream took for appreciation and slid open his own armour.

It was Starscream's first glimpse of his Lord's spark since the infusion of dark energon. It was rather lackluster in his opinion. Dulled, its coronal rotation was sluggish, the violet hue abnormal at an instinctive level. Starscream forced himself not to balk, tossing his head back and shuttering his optics in the hopes his revulsion was mistaken for desire.

"I hope you appreciate the honour I am about to bestow upon you," Megatron growled, sliding his arms around Starscream's back, readying to gather him close. "I'm letting you touch real power, sharing a master with death itself!" With that declaration he drew their chests together, their spark energy mingling.

A beat later, optics still closed, Starscream's face creased into a frown. He felt nothing of the familiar biting sensations of a spark merge. There was no energy transfer, no throb of radiation within his chest cavity. There was no pain. The only thing he felt, other than his own heightening tension, was a great blunt pressure again his spark.

"What are you doing?" Megatron demanded.

Starscream's optics popped online as he jerked his head up the glare at his companion. "What do you mean what am I doing? What are YOU doing?"

They both looked down simultaneously at the space between their chests, a gap between their sparks a testament to the failed merge.

Snarling in frustration Megatron yank him close again, their chests clashing. Again Starscream felt a great pressure, like two similarly polarized magnets, their spark energy simply slid across one another, refusing to meet.

Another wrench and Starscream shouted as his spark was pushed back into its casing by some repellent force.

"Enough!" he batted at Megatron's head. "This is obscene!"

The pressure ceased abruptly as Megatron released him and stepped back, forcing Starscream to catch himself, barely managing to stay on his feet.

"What you hope to gain from this treachery is beyond me," Megatron said, glaring at Starscream's pulsing spark.

"Treachery!" he screeched. "I splay myself open at your word and am rewarded with an inept battering! And you dare accuse me of treachery!"

"Failure then," Megatron countered. "It amounts to the same, a defiance of my will."

"I failed at nothing," he scoffed, a glimmer of comprehension beginning to dawn and he cast a suspicious eye on Megatron's stained spark. "I believe we both know where the insufficiency lies."

One of Megatron's hands involuntarily reached toward his chest but was stayed halfway, spark chamber and armour sealing shut instead. "Don't be absurd, the dark energon has granted me control over death. It is no weakness."

"Perhaps Unicron furnishes power with one gesture, while taking it away with another," Starscream reasoned. He let his sharp fingers weave through the glowing tendrils of his still exposed spark, a resonate hum accompanying the interplay. "You now have power over the Cybertronian dead, but perhaps you have sacrificed your influence over life?"

"Philosophical clap trap," Megatron declared, gaze involuntarily drawn to Starscream's fondling hand. "Now cover yourself," he snapped suddenly, "unless you would like to test your presumption. I doubt very much, however, that your insignificant little ember could withstand the *influence* of my fusion cannon!"

Starscream complied, sliding his chest shut with a provocatively coordinated brush of his hand. "The evidence speaks for itself I believe, further experimentation is…unnecessary." He tilted his head in mock contemplation. "Unless you would like to call Soundwave?"

Megatron looked to him fiercely, thrumming with anger and dissatisfaction.

"If you are so certain in the dark energon's munificence you can expose yourself to him. I'm sure he would be most keen to receive you."

"Silence," Megatron hissed, the threat palpable.

Starscream paid no heed. The inevitable violence the situation demanded freed him from constraint. "And if your spark is again incapable, well, perhaps one of your puppet soldiers will be able to offer you succor? I can kill another Autobot for you if you'd like something a little more fresh."

He was lucky he complied with Megatron's demand of a moment before as the blast took him right in the chest. He was flung from his feet, crashing into the wall, energy burns bubbling the finish on his armour, and a sizzling surge vibrating his circuits and frame.

When his audio and visual sensors flickered back online he shook his head in an attempt to clear the residual static. "What it something I said?" he managed to choke out.

"Get out," Megatron demanded from his battle stance a few paces away.

He levered himself into a standing position, listing to one side as damaged stabilizing gyros fought to correct his balance.

"Of course mighty Megatron," he demurred, not attempting a bow in fear of falling flat on his face.

He used the wall for support and he turned to open the door, his groping attempt brought to a halt as Megatron spoke to his retreating back.

"And Starscream, you will speak of this to no one, or I will indeed procure myself something a little more fresh."

"Understood," Starscream said, not daring to look over his shoulder at his master.

He finally managed to get the door open, and wobbling out into the hallway beyond he let out a rattling wheeze in relief. It would take him some time to figure out how this turn of events could best be used to his advantage. The more pressing matter, however, was figuring what he was going to do with himself!

end