Those whispers felt like the ghostly scraps of a dream. Skywarp's voice, murmuring, "Don't you want to stay?"

"I do," Starscream had answered. "That is why I have to go back. I promised."

"Then wait for us… will you?"

Cybertron was at peace in the following years. The population had spiked and the construction effort had sped up so quickly that society could now begin afresh. Shops lined the streets, fresh money and jobs opened up, all while the police forces kept everyone in order. Iacon was the first city to come back to life, and so Knockout established his studio there for that very reason.

A sign displayed Knockout's name with a glow the opposite of modest, and within that building, Knockout had gathered the latest art to display and impress customers. His dream had come true, and now he was always fully booked and raking up both fame and fortune. Over an unconscious patient having their chest plate replaced, Knockout smirked at his assistant.

"Only three more patients," he tittered.

Starscream rolled his eyes and passed him the next tool. Knockout only laughed, knowing that Starscream was not nearly as excited as he was to see the first race in Tarn later that night. Without his permission, Knockout had bought tickets and insisted Starscream would enjoy it if he just gave it a chance. When asked why he did not just join the race, Knockout pressed that he had a reputation and would not bear losing. This year, he would study his competition from afar.

Truth told, Starscream never minded what they decided to do. With the world against him, he was thankful to have Knockout and on occasion- Smokescreen, who was easier to get to through Knockout contacting him. Time passed, but still the other Autobots had been very awkward on the subject of his existence. Moreover, the Air Command had yet to forgive him or desire him. It crushed his spark to be rejected by his people, but so long as he kept his mouth shut, other bots did not have to scorn him as well.

When Knockout redid his body, he saved him from the glares. Although his form was roughly the same, the new curves, wing position, and non-traditional Starscream colours prevented suspicion. Around customers, he smiled a lot and acted friendly, and no one discovered that the pretty, black assistant decorated with blue and silver was a war criminal.

Some days, it felt like Knockout was all he had. Ripclaw had been gone for years, having had left with Megatron, Soundwave, and Shockwave. She had told him that they needed someone like her to be happy, and she said that perhaps she was getting in the way of Starscream connecting with her brothers. And yet, Starscream was still not able to gain a deeper connection with any of them although they had tried.

Predaking, Skylynx, and Darksteel knew where he was and what he looked like now, but the couple of visits they had attempted were uncomfortable. Their departures were always a relief, but Starscream clung onto the gifts they had bought him. There was no more anger within him that made him want to chuck the presents away, but no urge to befriend them regardless. Instead, all he could do was stroke the little carvings and feel touched that they had tried to make him happier. Starscream placed the little art pieces within Knockout's gallery.

Naturally and without conflict, their lives drifted apart. New Predacons had started emerging from the Well, and Predaking was founding his own city for them where they could transform and be free to be themselves. After all, their presence in the growing cities was becoming more unwanted, as Predacons frightened others and caused accidental damage or traffic jams. The three Predacons were busy, and Starscream respected their efforts from a comfortable distance. It might have been better to be apart and move on, for not everyone could be held onto.

In the beginning, Starscream had felt cold in his energon. He woke up in the night, wondering if he had made the wrong choice in not following Megatron. It scared him a bit to be so free, and without an army or Seekers to lead, he did not know what to do. Then, the solution became clear: he would relax and have all the fun that he could, even if he felt lonely to have so few bots in his life. Hours could belong to the quiet times of watching television and sitting in the library, and the exhilarating times of moonlight flights and rollercoasters.

So this was a normal life, he had thought. Without a need to stress about power or pain, he quite liked it.

After Knockout closed up the studio, they headed through the chilly streets of Iacon toward the public warp station. It was still a bit too early for the scum to crawl out and rob innocent pedestrians, but Starscream was always on guard. If anything were to happen, he would throw himself into the danger before Knockout might be killed. However, nothing ever so horrible had happened since they had begun new lives in Iacon. Beady eyes looked back into Starscream's gaze from alleys and seemed to sense his fearless spirit, before backing off to search for easier prey.

Knockout paid for the groundbridge that funneled them out into Tarn, ancient rival of Vos and headquarters of the ground military. It had historically been a place of sports and competition, and a few stadiums were built within the city. Now, they simply had to follow the excited crowd of mostly wheeled-bots toward one of them. At the entrance, one burly soldier checked their tickets before allowing them in, then Knockout led Starscream to their seats.

They were situated high up for a good view of the entire track. While Knockout quivered in pure excitement, Starscream waited in tranquil silence and tried to keep an open mind. He remembered that memory Cliffjumper had showed him, where he experienced for himself the wonderful sensation of driving along a familiar route and feeling linked to a home. Because of that, Starscream tried to imagine everyone else's passion and the kinship between drivers.

Once it started, he believed that he would enjoy it in the end. Starscream knew more than he had before, and truly understood now what it felt like to be connected and familiar with something. Now that he had a home, he was not going to leave it. Days may go by and seem similar, but he was going to find comfort in them, time and time again. Starscream would manage, even if he might never make another friend again.

Nevertheless, he was still waiting. Starscream thought about how Cliffjumper would have enjoyed this race, and how funny it would have been if he had dragged Skywarp and Thundercracker out to watch something like this. Then his spark sank a bit, for he did not know how their personalities might change. If or when they came back… he may not have been able to recognize them.

It did not stop him from trying, from watching the news and searching through recent records of new Cybertronians. Starscream gazed into the pictures of young faces, looking for something familiar in their multi-coloured eyes. He dreamed that his spark would just feel a click, and then he would drop everything to go looking for the bot. This had not happened in the passage of years, and Starscream tried to accept that maybe these were more lives simply destined to stray from his.

He knew that Arcee was still waiting, though. That, he could sense even without discussing it with her. Her goodbye to Cliffjumper had never been intended to be permanent, like Megatron and Ripclaw's goodbye to Starscream. If Starscream could not have Cliffjumper again, then at the very least, he prayed that Cliffjumper would find his way back to Arcee.

For a long while, Cliffjumper's parting words to the Autobots would be Starscream's hope.

Let's hope for a second life where we can all be friends again.

This was Starscream's third life, the most capable of all the previous ones to love and protect. He was always ready, always waiting for them, but he was not waiting to start his own life. It had already begun and had its own plan, after all. That currently being, Starscream smirked, happily going along with every one of Knockout's whims...

And that was the first of his plans to never backfire or fail.

The End