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Sky and Ground 30 Betray
Verse: Bayverse
Characters: Skywarp, Starscream, Thundercracker
Rating: R
Warning: no smut. Just argument and a very, very broken Starscream.
Skywarp jerked awake, in a tangle of limbs. He and Starscream and Thundercracker had gotten more or less woven together. Starscream’s face was nuzzled against his neck, and someone’s hand—he couldn’t quite figure whose—curled over one of his hips. It was warm and cozy and full of megacycles of memories—innocent and not so. For a long moment, the drowse of the memories tempted him, until he remembered Barricade. Who was probably curled, alone and miserable, on his cramped little berth. While Skywarp had interfaced…how many times?
His optics stung at the thought. Barricade waiting for him, innocent, chaste, and he’d…he couldn’t even finish the thought. He just knew he had to get back. Even for a few cycles.
He pushed himself slowly upright, delicately moving limbs out of his way. He looked down at his spattered frame with dismay, aware suddenly of the reek of friction-heated transfluid. He was…disgusting. How could he explain this?
“Where are you going?” Thundercracker’s voice was soft, trying not to wake Starscream.
“I have to go back.”
“Go back where? We are your Trine.”
Time to get it out. Stop being a coward. You will face Barricade coated in your Trine’s fluids. You will stand up to his scorn and judgment. Compared to that, Thundercracker was…nothing. “Barricade. I corecharge with him.”
“You corecharge with a grounder?”
“Yes.” Blatant challenge in his voice.
“You interface with him.”
Starscream interrupted, “I interface with grounders as well.” He sat up and planted a drowsy soothing kiss on Thundercracker’s shoulder. Thundercracker leaned over, and kissed Starscream’s forehead gently.
“Yes,” Skywarp said. “I interface with a grounder.” He winced at the petulant tone of his voice.
Thundercracker shook his head. Judgment. Skywarp felt his lip curl. “Affecting your judgment,” Thundercracker said.
“It does not!” He winced. That didn’t sound like his judgment was affected at all. Thundercracker didn’t even have to say anything: simply quirk one supraorbital ridge. How could he say how he felt when Thundercracker was judging him just for his actions, not his emotions?
“You want to leave the comfort of your Trine to go recharge with a grounder.”
“I have spent enough time with you. This is about me.”
“This is about your unnatural attraction to grounders.”
“Starscream interfaces with grounders as well.”
Starscream nodded agreement, his mouth warm and eager on Thundercracker’s back, fingers crawling over the thrusters.
“Starscream interfaces with anything.” Beside him, Starscream stiffened, pausing in his caresses. Skywarp ached for him. He didn’t understand Starscream, but…he knew that his Trinemate didn’t deserve this kind of censure. Or if he did, then Skywarp deserved part of the blame for making him that way. He had certainly done his part to break Starscream of any modesty or shame. Or boundaries. He reached an apologetic hand to his bronze Trinemate. Starscream’s talons curled around his. He tugged, pulling Starscream away from Thundercracker. Starscream’s arms twined around his neck, clinging, needy. Starscream hated conflict among his Trinemates.
“Starscream is one of us,” Skywarp said, wrapping his own arm protectively around the bronze jet. He realized suddenly, that he had given up on leaving. Barricade…. But Starscream’s arms were needy against him. And…maybe Barricade was in deep recharge. And he didn’t have words to explain anyway. And…this had to be settled. Excuses, in several different colors. He turned his face into Starscream’s, accepting the eager kiss. Do not fight, he could practically hear Starscream say, with his mouth, with his body. And he didn’t want to fight, either. Ever. But he’d given in so much. Given in to Thundercracker. Given in to his darkness. He would not give in here. He would take a stand.
And Barricade would understand. Wouldn’t he?
“And yes,” he said, defiantly, “I interface with Barricade. And he is a grounder.” He teetered on the brink for the space of a breath, watching Thundercracker’s face ripple through a handful of responses. Courage, he told himself. You can face combat and death without fear: You can speak to your Trine. He blurted, “And I am considering sparking with him.” He felt Starscream’s talons dig into him, but he couldn’t tell if the gesture was warning or comforting or horrified. His own spark flared at putting the desire, finally, into words. Yes, it told him. This is right and good and pure. This is what you want. Hold strong.
Starscream swung in front of him, dropping into his lap, throwing himself, in his way, between them. He stroked worriedly at Thundercracker’s cockpit. Thundercracker had gone rigid, his mouth quivering with suppressed emotion. “You,” he pushed out, finally, “cannot be serious.”
“Why not?”
“He is a grounder.” As though that made it physically impossible or unspeakably obscene. “Aerials belong with aerials; Seekers with Seekers. Let him find his own kind.”
“You,” Skywarp said, his voice dangerous, “have no right. It was your little game, wasn’t it, all that time ago? Your little…fetish to watch me force little groundframes.”
“My fetish? You did not have to go along with it.” Thundercracker was probably being as honest as he could be—he couldn’t see that, just like right now, there was no way to NOT do precisely what Thundercracker wanted. He really thought they had choices. Free will. Skywarp shook his head, bitterly.
“You,” he said, coldly, “at the very least did not try to stop me, then.”
“You weren’t trying to spark link with them!”
Skywarp felt a trembling across his thighs: Starscream, his optics wide-irised in fear. “Do not fight,” the bronze jet whispered, desperately. “I cannot bear it.”
“We aren’t fighting, Starscream,” Thundercracker murmured soothingly. “We are simply having a discussion.”
Skywarp felt his talons bunch into fists. “Can’t we once just call this what it is, Thundercracker? This is NOT a discussion. This is you trying to take command of the Trine.”
“Someone needs to look out for our communal welfare.” Thundercracker reached down, deliberately, returning Starscream’s touches, turning the bronze jet’s face to his. “Right, Starscream?”
Striking low, Skywarp thought. Reminding Starscream of his own failing in that regard. And, obliquely, reminding Skywarp of his own. “Communal welfare,” he spat. “That’s always been your excuse.”
“Really.” Thundercracker’s optics slitted. “Did you want us to fall apart after Skyfire’s death? It seems like you did. And now?” he tapped one talon on Starscream’s cockpit. “Do you want others to violate our bond?” Starscream looked stricken, that stunned, terrified look Skywarp remembered all too well from their first days as a Trine.
Skywarp snorted. Another way to phrase Thundercracker’s question, really, was, ‘do you want others to know how dysfunctionally fragged we all are?’. “Nobody is violating anything. Unless you’re afraid to let me spark with someone else. “
“I’m not afraid, Skywarp,” Thundercracker said, reasonably. “But we all know that it could be…very disappointing for you.” His optics were sympathetic. Sincere. Just…Skywarp didn’t want sincere sympathy right now. Especially not from Thundercracker.
“That is my problem,” Skywarp growled. Yes, there was a possibility—more like a probability, that he’d spark with Barricade and the little mech would recoil in horror. There was a difference between being told of Skywarp’s deeds, and being forced to feel them, see them, and feel Skywarp’s own brutal joy at his casual violence. But that was Barricade’s decision to make: not Thundercracker’s.
“There are no individual problems in a Trine,” Thundercracker said. “We have had to learn this lesson how many times?” He tilted his head down to look at Starscream. “Right?”
Starscream nodded, numbly. Skywarp felt a boil of rage at how easily Thundercracker was manipulating Starscream. His choice: Pull back or not play at all. “Leave Starscream out of this.” He’d always been accused of protecting Starscream. One more accusation wouldn’t tilt the balance.
Thundercracker looked up at him, pointedly, as if he had suggested blasphemy. “We are a Trine.”
“Quaterne,” Starscream murmured. Skywarp bent down and scooped the bronze mech up between them. Oh he knew where this was going. Starscream was fading and it was all his fault. Or it would be.
“Hush,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around the bronze jet. Starscream shifted uncomfortably.
“Quaterne,” he repeated, softly. “We need each other too much for this.”
“Yes,” Skywarp said, “I know. We’re not fighting, Starscream. Nothing will happen.” He looked up at Thundercracker, and his optics narrowed. “You want me to be happy, don’t you?” He hated himself for this tactic. It felt wrong and vicious, especially as Starscream nodded earnestly.
“But Skywarp is…confused,” Thundercracker riposted. “He does not know what will make him truly happy. That is why he has a Trine.” He sneered up at Skywarp. “He relies upon us, as we rely upon him.”
“We can all be happy,” Starscream murmured. Skywarp’s spark ached at almost the same intensity that his rage burned him. Starscream…reduced to this. In combat, he was ruthless, efficient, fearless. When pushing an idea, he was devious but dogged. But the moment the Trine was threatened, he collapsed into this gibbering wreck. And Skywarp had no small part in having done this to him. Having reduced him to this so easily. Oh, Skywarp you played your part. And this is the payment. This is what you deserve.
He buried his face in Starscream’s neck, the folded wing panels fluttering against him. “I’m sorry,” he breathed, feeling his breath against the cool metal. He wasn’t sure himself if he were apologizing for right now or for…everything. Starscream made a small comforted sound in his throat.
“I suggest,” Thundercracker said, coolly, “that we put this decision to a Trine vote.”
“What decision? There’s no decision to be made here.” Skywarp’s forearms tightened around Starscream’s chassis.
“Your spark bonding is a matter of direct concern to the Trine,” Thundercracker’s voice had taken on his patronizing tone. “We shall feel the effects.”
“Starscream wouldn’t mind.” Starscream obediently shook his head. Skywarp looked up, triumphant.
“Starscream,” Thundercracker said, soothingly, “Would you really like to share the grounder’s spark?”
“Barricade is very sweet,” Starscream offered, stopped when he saw the disapproving look on Thundercracker’s face.
“We are allowed to spark bond outside of our Trine,” Skywarp said pointedly. He knew this wasn’t news to Thundercracker—he just wanted to make Thundercracker admit his real objection. The real reason they stayed close, couldn’t let anyone in. He just wanted Thundercracker to admit…how dysfunctional they were. Let go of this illusion of love and bonding and unity that had kept them all prisoner. It wouldn’t break the Trine bond—nothing could—but it would set them free of their pasts.
“A vote.” Thundercracker returned to this. “Spark bonding with a non-aerial, or not?” He smirked. “I say not.”
“I say this is a Trine and you don’t dictate terms to me.”
“I say this is a Trine and I have every right as a member to call a vote.”
“Fine. I say yes.” Skywarp’s mouth pressed into a thin line. He was so enraged at Thundercracker’s power play that he hadn’t even stopped to think what this might do. The deciding vote: Starscream.
Skywarp tried to think of it as compassion, that he pushed up, shoving Starscream off his lap, against Thundercracker. He tried to look at it that he was sparing Starscream the terror of choice—Starscream couldn’t choose, not between them. He tried to convince himself he was trying to spare Starscream from a choice which had no winner, a choice that would make him the fulcrum against which to lean the breakdown of the Trine.
In truth, his fury overmastered him. And the only control he had was to get out or to hurt one of them. His cortex already flashed him pictures of possibilities: Starscream reeling from a backhand blow, a spray of energon from a line cut by Skywarp’s barbs, Thundercracker gasping as a hard kick crackled his cockpit’s amber dome. Skywarp could see it, hear the cracking of the plasglass, hear Thundercracker’s pitiful gasp, Starscream’s keen of pain. He could feel the shock of the back of his hand striking Starscream, of his bunched hard foot colliding with Thundercracker. He could hear his systems thrum with a brutal pleasure. And it took all the force of will he could muster to push that away, push Starscream away and storm toward the door. He had to get away before that happened.
“You’re going back to your little grounder,” Thundercracker sneered.
“No,” Skywarp said, shaking in his effort to control his rage. He didn’t trust himself around anyone right now, not even Barricade. And the thought of Barricade seeing him like this…?
“Don’t go….” Starscream’s voice was thin and pitiful. He reached a hand out to Skywarp, optics flickering with concern. Skywarp’s spark burned for the naked pain and terror on Starscream’s face. That Skywarp would leave, that he would not come back. But…he couldn’t stay here. He’d go mad. He’d do something, say something he’d regret—even more than what he’d already said and done. Why couldn’t they understand he had to get away, to spare them? To keep them safe?
No, it was to keep HIM safe from the consequences of his own damage. Cowardice. Running away.
Yes? So be it. Cowardice. Fine. That name no longer stung.
He turned on his heel-spurs and coded the door. Starscream had given him the codes on the first day.
Starscream’s voice—stretched with fear. “Where are you going?” Pleading, helpless. Not trying to stop him. And that’s what stopped him, at least for that klik. But the brutal rage re-boiled inside him, and he heard his voice get blade thin and cutting as he said the most hateful, the most hurtful, the most terrifying words he could summon, against the Trine mate who deserved them least.
“I,” he said, coldly, as the door whooshed open in front of him, “am Navigant-flying.”
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And that last line. Oh my god. I'm literally sitting on the edge of my seat waiting for the fallout from that one; for Barricade, who has no idea what's going on, and for Starscream, who's just going to be devastated by that. Wow. Such a powerful chapter.
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(I don't know what happens either--I'm a little worried, too!)