A/N: Post season 3 finale. Starscream and Shockwave.
Blue.
It inundated him, seeped into every plate and seam, drowning out the silver he was so known for. The silver that was feared, the silver that was recognized by all.
After the escape pod crashed down, after the strained fight or flight chemicals began to fade in his spark, he stood silent and useless in Shockwave's laboratory. Red optics were dilated and frozen.
Blue beneath his pedes, blue spreading up the walls of the lab in a beautiful glow, blue everywhere, making claws curl and vents choke.
The Well had life again. The planet had life again.
And Primus? Starscream didn't dare kneel or pray. His spark whirled and fought itself, vorns and vorns of homesickness suddenly with nothing to latch onto. It was always easy to be mad at the Autobots for the loss of their home, to use that anger towards them to drive him, to rally the troops, to bring him to Megatron's side—
Megatron.
Those optics finally wavered from their frozen state, plating rattling as an icy feeling shot out from the Seeker's core, down his limbs.
Shockwave turned. He felt the dangerous shift of the aerial's energy field, hardly contained in his apparent state of shock.
Claws clenched and denta bared in a silent snarl, spark flaring within him from cold to hot in an instant. Wings pointed high, plating tight and livid.
He did not need logic to sense where this was going and so before the former second in command was able to make a frenzied decision, Shockwave spoke.
"Starscream," he vocalized evenly. Not quiet but not loud.
The jet's claws twisted until they became fists. No. Why is he here with Shockwave? He hated him, despised him with all his spark, it was he who had stolen his master's favor, he who had torn him away when his master—
"—Needed me!"
The shriek echoed tightly in the lab. The glow was now a pulse, a sparkbeat around them. Starscream turned to face his reluctant companion, talons exposed in a threat. Shockwave did not flinch, his single optic staring. He knew what Starscream meant. Could figure out with ease what he was currently feeling. The shock only intensified it.
"Lord Megatron needed me and you—you—"
"You are angry," Shockwave said slowly.
Starscream only growled. Shockwave lowered his gaze for a moment despite the open talons threatening him.
"But you are alive, Starscream."
The Seeker seemed to want to growl again but instead exvented in distortion. His optics cycled to a smaller size, dark sockets appearing wider. He stared at Shockwave, faceplate slack with uncertainty then with realization.
"Alive..."
Yes, he was alive. And Megatron was not.
He had wanted it. Before. A neurotic dream that always ended in a nightmare—with him fading away. Not Megatron, but him. Blade through cockpit, cannon blast to the helm, even torn apart by his master, by the claws that scored deep gashes into his wings to remind him of his place, the same claws that for a time took to curling around him in private.
Starscream once again stared at his servos.
Their leader had become one with the Allspark. He'd heard Shockwave repeatedly try to contact Soundwave and receive only static in return. The Autobots had the Nemesis.
And... blue. All around them. Life. Home.
The silver Decepticon took in raspy, shaking ventilations, optics burning holes into his scratched up talons. He heard Shockwave moving closer but did not look at him yet.
It was over.
"Shockwave," he said suddenly, purposefully. "See to it that your laboratory is operational."
"It is." A small bow of helm, optic lowered in respect.
Starscream turned to look out through the rusting hole that had been blasted in the lab eons ago. The land stretched as a sea of blue light.
"Times have changed," Starscream said to his companion.
"And we must change with them," Shockwave finished as he too regarded Primus's light.