Fic: G1 AU - Yesterday's Ashes - Part 1

[yami_samuraiflo]

After a long while, a fic \o/
First wrote for the May 2013 fic contest over tfic_contest, I decided to post it here, even though the contest hasn't been closed yet. But well, i've been waiting since April, so...
It's the sequel to Spark Deep, BTW, long awaited by various readers.
Have a good time reading :)

Title: Yesterday's Ashes
Rating: M
Universe: G1 AU
Pairings: Starscream/Perceptor, past Skyfire/Starscream and past Skyfire/Perceptor; implied others
Warnings: Slash, sticky, rape, mpreg, slavery, death, torture, trauma, miscarriages, sparklings, dystopia
Word Count: 13 592

Perceptor screamed one last time in pure bliss as his overload washed over him. Head lolling to the side, he panted, vents overworking to cool down his frame. Such pleasure… so intense! He had heard that interfacing was pleasant, but he had never imagined that it could be so much so. That he had found himself a careful, thoughtful lover helped a lot. Despite their size difference, none of their lovemaking session ever left him in pain. Perhaps, a bit sore sometimes, that was it.  Well, he was usually thoroughly exhausted, because his lover always insisted on preparing him for a long time, and made him overload multiple time before he even attempted penetration.

“Hmm,” he moaned as he felt his lover shift and slide out of him.

Above him, Skyfire smiled. “Did you enjoy that, my love?”

Curling up against the much bigger mech, the microscope smiled. “Do you really need to ask such a question? Or do you doubt your prowess?” he asked teasingly.

Skyfire chuckled. “Well, unless you’re the biggest simulator ever sparked, I don’t think I need to.” He bent over and gently kissed Perceptor on the lips chastely, one large hand holding the other scientist close. The microscope almost purred.

They laid next to each other in silence for a while, until Perceptor started talking.

“It almost doesn’t seem fair…” Skyfire looked quizzically at him. “You give me so much pleasure, and I’m hardly able to reciprocate or please you as much,” he said, blushing.

Skyfire gave a hearty laugh. “Aww, don’t be  bothered. I’m used to it. It’s not a problem, really.”

“But…” Perceptor tried to protest. Skyfire kissed him, cutting him off. As their lips parted, the shuttle was looking at him with a deep fondness.

“You’re such a nice mech, Percy,” he said. “I’m very lucky to have you. I don’t think  I had ever met such a bright spark before you, and I can’t believe I had to wait so long to meet you.”

“Do you regret Starscream?” the microscope blurted out. Skyfire stilled, and Perceptor cringed and babbled. “I mean, I know you loved him, he’s better looking than me, and…”

“Better looking? No, he’s not,” Skyfire said blandly. “In my optics, you’re far more attractive than he ever was. I… won’t say that I don’t miss him. How he used to be. I also know he isn’t that mech anymore. I don’t regret being with you. Never,” he said forcefully.

Perceptor bit his lower lip. “… You never said you didn’t love him,” he pointed out.

Skyfire sighed. There was no easy answer to give. There was a time Starscream could have meant the world to him. A gentle, creative Starscream, whose most wicked acts were to play pranks and incidentally sabotage the work of mechs having rubbed him the wrong way. Skyfire had thought it was just a harmless kink at the time. Now, it seemed like the base of a more ruthless personality the shuttle had barely scratched the surface of back in the days.

He had loved Starscream. But his ideal mech wasn’t a would-be dictator. His ideal mech was a kind soul sharing the simple joys of life and sciences, not unlike Perceptor. Starscream… Starscream was ‘might have been’. Perceptor was ‘now and forever’.

“I’m sorry I asked and hurt your feelings,” the microscope said softly, and Skyfire smiled faintly at him. That’s what he loved in the microscope: that habit to always put someone elses welfare over his own. He kissed him again, and assured him it was alright.

“I sense you’re troubled. You’ve been for some time already. What is bothering you, love?” he asked.

Perceptor hesitated. “The Decepticons are becoming more and more brutal with each assault. Others do not want to talk about it, but I think they’re afraid too---that we’re not going to---”

Skyfire put a large finger over his lips to silence him. “I know,” he said softly. “I have my own fears about the end of this conflict. I...” he hesitated. “I don’t want anything happening to you,” he whispered.

Perceptor clung to him firmly. “Nothing will happen to me, nor to you,” he said with more conviction than he felt. In war, anything was possible. “I’ll kill anyone threatening you,” he vowed, though he knew he wasn’t much of a warrior. But to keep Skyfire safe… he could try and fight back as hard as he was able.

Skyfire smiled feebly. “Such a brave, adorable little spark.  Don’t worry, I’m big enough to defend myself, and defend you from anything.”

“That you are, but how can I ever repay you for your kindness and bravery?” the smaller Autobot asked, a playful smile on his lips.

“Well, I can think of something,” the shuttle chuckled and parted Perceptor’s thighs. “Ready for another round?”

The microscope blushed heavily, but let him do as he pleased.

Who knew how long what they had would last?

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The small grey frame was gently laid out upon the table, hands joint over the chest, wings carefully displayed. Starscream watched the process go with a blank face.

That sparkling wasn’t supposed to be grey. She was supposed to be red and orange and blue, so full of vivacious colors and bright temper it was almost overwhelming.

His daughter was dead.

His CPU was overworking, trying to deal with various emotional protocols he could have gone without just right now. His visual captors were taking in the smallest details, forever printing them in his CPU, with such a force that he knew he would have memories purges over them.

His daughter was dead.

It just… wasn’t possible. Four cycles ago, right before he had to part with her and go to that meeting, she was running into his arms. She had been intent on getting a hug and pestering him to take her flying over the city, carefully strapped to his frame, because her thrusters and little wings weren’t developed enough yet to allow her to fly by her own means.

He almost shed a tear again. Almost. But he was still in public, and he wouldn’t let himself display frantic emotion right now. What he did when he first felt the creation bond snap and dissipate---he had rushed after Megatron into the room he knew his daughter had been in, when he first found out the body---that was damaging enough for his image.

Though, he knew, nobody could blame him. Even Megatron had made a display of grief, albeit a more violent one. All Decepticons who lost an offspring did in one form or another… unlike their Autobot counterparts.

Speaking of Autobots…

Starscream’s head snapped up and he looked at every mechs in the room, searching for a streak of red. There was none to be found.

“Where is Perceptor?” he asked one random lower ranked Decepticon who he didn’t bother to remember the name of right now. He had other, more important priorities to work through.

To his credit, the mech didn’t seem to mind, and was careful not to let any display of sympathy or pity mar his face. “I’m not sure, my Lord. I think he went downstairs to Primus’ chapel with other… grieving Autobots,” he said carefully.

Starscream gave a joyless laugh. “Grieving? More like celebrating,” he said with a lopsided smile. “Go seek him, and tell him to come here immediately,” he ordered.

The random mech stared at him. “My Lord, wouldn’t it be simpler to just comm. him?”

“He doesn’t have a comm. left, you fool! Never, ever question my orders!” the Seeker snapped, suddenly grasping the other mech’s neck and lifting him in the air. The mech kicked helplessly, before Starscream threw him against a wall, he hit it loudly. Scrambling to his feet, he threw a terrified look at Starscream and ran out of the room, intent on filling his mission as soon as possible.

Starscream’s shoulders sagged slightly, before he gave the remaining mechs having led his daughter to her temporary rest a look. “Out,” he ordered simply. They obeyed immediately.

Starscream leaned against a wall and let himself slide to the floor, though his optics never led the frame of his creation. He keened softly and started crying again.

His daughter was dead.

And Perceptor would have many explanations to give him.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The datapad shattered against the wall, accompanying Starscream’s shriek of pure, unaltered rage. Thundercracker tried not to flinch. A distant part of him wondered if Soundwave had done it on purpose.

The Cassettes’ mission was to spy upon the Ark and report anything of interest they could learn to turn the tide of the war, and finally beat the Autobots. It meant, normally, that they had to find battle plans and infiltrate meetings. Finding out if there were tensions and dissensions within the enemy ranks was secondary in Megatron’s mind, though considered vaguely valuable (and even, strongly valuable for the TIC). Finding out who was in a relationship with who, however, was futile at best, and inutile at worse.

Except for Starscream, regarding his ‘old pal’ Skyfire.

To learn he was currently dating and interfacing with the Autobot scientist named Perceptor had not been well received. At all.

The blue Seeker calmly eyed the damages to their quarters. Skywarp wouldn’t be happy when he would came back. Though Thundercracker thought he would be happy to have missed Starscream’s current mood swing.

“Are you calm now?” he asked his trine leader with a falsely bored tone.

Starscream threw another datapad at him, and the other Seeker had to take a step to the side to avoid it. The tricolored Seeker grunted but finally stopped destroying whatever fell under his hand. His vents worked hard as he sat down on the edge of a berth.

“He has no right,” he groused. “No right at all! Frag it all, we were the ones who freed him from the ice! I was the one to convince Megatron to actually revive him, and how does he thank me?! Does he know how much pain I took from Megatron when he deserted?! What I took for him? He has no right to… to… replace me!” he ranted loudly.

“You know what your problem is? You never liked letting go of your toys, Starscream,” Thundercracker commented bluntly, arms crossed over his chest. “What belongs to you, you never totally let go of, unless you want to.”

Starscream sputtered. “Skyfire isn’t a toy!”

Thundercracker raised an optic ridge. “But you don’t deny the fact he ‘belonged’ to you, I note. It would be wise of you not to comment,” he added as his trine leader opened his mouth. Uncharacteristically, Starscream did shut up. Probably because he knew it would only lead to a fight with Thundercracker over their different concepts of property and liberties.

There was a moment of silence between the two, before Thundercracker asked. “Do you love him still? Or is it just to satisfy your ego or some petty need for revenge?”

The question made sense for the blue Seeker; he wanted to be prepared if anything happened.

Starscream stiffened. “It’s not revenge,” he snapped. “But he was mine, and he has no right to drop me like that! I love him, frag it!” Starscream’s optics were burning with a hidden fire. Love. What a strange concept. But it was the closest word he could use to describe what he was feeling for Skyfire. Though it wasn’t quite that either.

But Skyfire was really special to Starscream. The shuttle had believed in him, once upon a time, when nobody else did. He had been a good field partner, a confident, a brilliant mind with which he could share his most extravagant theories and not being laughed at, and a most thoughtful and talented lover. Skyfire’s smiles had made him feel warm and worthy, clever and haughty. His voice had been soothing. His sensitivity… well, that, the Seeker could have gone without, but the giant mech gentle and humble nature was part of his charm, and nicely contrasted Starscream’s hidden ruthlessness and lust for acknowledgment. Starscream wasn’t one to form deep attachments, but for Skyfire… For Skyfire, he was willing to make an exception. He wanted him at his side, as a constant companion, not unlike his trine. But unlike Thundercracker and Skywarp, he didn’t simply see Skyfire as an asset and a burden in one. Skyfire was… well, he was supposed to be here and never leave him, and that was it.

Thundercracker, not being privy to those thoughts, hummed skeptically. “I’m sure you do. That’s why you were a model of fidelity during those vorns, weren’t you?”

Starscream glared at him. “That’s different! I had needs! And I thought he was deactivated! I would never have taken someone else to my berth if I had even thought for a klik he was still alive after all that time!”

Thundercracker bit his glossa, unwilling to challenge the other Seeker’s claims. He doubted it was entirely true, but it was better not to alienate Starscream further. It would be counterproductive, and potentially dangerous. Beside, Starscream could have a very twisted interpretation of things and feelings, so perhaps he thought he was, or had been in love, as weird as that was.

The red and blue Seeker started pacing, hands behind his back and a sour look on his face.

“Skyfire is mine, Thundercracker! What does he see in Perceptor, anyway? Why would he choose a ground pounder when he could have ME?” he rambled.

The blue Seeker sighed. “I would hardly fault him,” the blue Seeker told him blandly, which earned him a dark glare. “And I doubt the frame counts for much in this situation,” he added tranquility. “It’s a matter of personality, I guess.”

Starscream perked up, visibly interested, so Thundercracker elaborated. “Say what you like, the mech was in stasis; he didn’t change. You, on the other hand, lived through those vorns, so you did change. He mustn’t be able to reconcile what his memories of you are with what the actual reality is. Hardly surprising he’d rather cling to mechs who are…” he stopped himself before saying ‘more like the old you’ or ‘meeker’.

Truth to be told, he really had a hard time picturing Starscream as not, well,  being Starscream. That’s it, a backstabbing, cunning, egomaniacal mech with delusions of grandeur and a sharp glossa. Not to forget, brilliant; Starscream was a genius in the lab, no matter what else one thought.

He didn’t know who was the mech Skyfire had known and loved, but Thundercracker had the feeling the Starscream he knew hadn’t been him. Not really. Even younger and more naïve, he doubted Starscream had really been a nice mech. But Starscream was good a casting an illusion and glossing over his worst faults when he really wanted something, so who knew? Perhaps he had been able to fool Skyfire into believing he was a sweet mech. Or perhaps the shuttle had been too naïve to really see what Starscream was like.

It hardly mattered, anyway.

Lips components pursued, Starscream stared at him, most likely having guessed what Thundercracker had been alluding to. He shifted on his pedes, thinking.

“You think if I acted more like my younger self, I could convince him to join me again?” he asked pointedly.

Thundercracker started. “I haven’t actually…”

“Too bad, because I can’t,” Starscream said dispassionately. “Too many things have happened. And as the Second of the whole Decepticon army, I can’t be seen as weak. That was essentially what I was and what I would be if I clung to those old ideals. I’m not that mech anymore. Skyfire will have to learn to like me as I am now,” he groused.

Thundercracker’s optics narrowed. He didn’t like the way Starscream was talking. “What are you planning?” he asked brusquely.

Starscream made a dismissive gesture. “Nothing… for now. But the Autobots are fated to lose someday, and when this day comes… I think I might know what reward I’ll take,” he said with a smirk.

The blue Seeker stared at him in disbelief. “Starscream… are you even realizing what you’re saying?” he asked. “If you’re thinking about what I’m thinking, it will not end well, not for you, not for Skyfire, not for Perceptor…”

The tricolored Seeker snarled. “I don’t care about Perceptor! And it will end well for me!” And he stormed out of the room without Thundercracker being able to add a word edgewise.

“That’s what you think…” he mumbled.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Perceptor entered the room slowly, optics downcast. Starscream spared him look before focusing once more on his daughter’s grey frame.

“So you came. Have a nice time ‘mourning’ with your fellow Autobots?” Starscream spat. Perceptor stayed silent, making Starscream look at him once more. The microscope was still looking at the floor, hands by his sides, posture utterly defeated. Which… wasn’t unusual from him when they were alone, he mused briefly. He always held himself like that when he awaited orders and when Starscream ranted at him or when he was deciding on a punishment for some ‘misbehavior’. Not that Perceptor actually misbehaved. He knew his place and obeyed the rules laid out for him. But Starscream liked to remind himself and the Autobot of who was in charge.

The results, Starscream had to admit, weren’t exactly as pleasant as they sounded.

Perhaps, just perhaps, he shouldn’t have been so harsh the few times he actually lashed out.

His slave had feared him, and still did in some ways. But he was also very… indifferent to what was happening to him.

It had become disturbing to watch, and Starscream had almost addressed the issues once. But then, he had noticed how… livelier Perceptor had become when playing with Sunglitter. As if their sparkling had lifted some weight off his shoulders. It wasn’t much, but it had been enough to convince the Seeker nothing was really amiss.

He should have had that conversation after all, he chuckled bitterly.

Perceptor was usually the one keeping an optic on their sparkling. It was expected of him, as her Carrier, and given Starscream’s responsibilities and long work time. True, he would have rather had Sunglitter raised by other, true Decepticons, but the tricolored Seekers didn’t have anyone he really trusted with his sparkling’s life. He had many enemies, Skywarp was rather unreliable with smaller life forms, and Thundercracker…

Oh, Primus, Thundercracker… He swallowed.

Having the little femme educated with other sparklings by Beta had seemed like a good idea. And here were the results: eight dead sparklings, among them his own and Megatron’s hard won heir. He wondered what his trinemate would have said… would say when he’d heard the news.

“Nothing to say to your defense, Perceptor?” he asked almost casually to the other mech, who stayed quiet. “You Autobots knowingly allowed a crazy femme near the little ones; don’t you have any remorse?”

Perceptor stayed immobile, and Starscream couldn’t judge his expression.

He was starting to get angry. How could the mech stay so damn calm and apathetic when they had just lost their child? The one he had raised far more than Starscream? The one he, Starscream had thought, loved so much?

“Two sparklings lost, two… And it doesn’t seem to bother you that much,” he said indifferently. “One has to wonder if you have a spark… Why, yes, you have one, I saw it often enough. But does it still beat? That’s the question.”

Perceptor flinched and, startled, looked up, and Starscream tried to suppress a vindictive smile. He barely managed to. Perceptor’s face was… Well, it was obvious Starscream’s cutting remark hit him deeply. The tricolored Seeker barely felt any remorse for that, though.

Pain was better than that blank look, fear and open submission the microscope usually wore when in his company.

Primus, how could Skyfire have ever loved him enough to spark him up?

Because he wasn’t like Starscream, that was why.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“This is going too far, Starscream,” Thundercracker said, shaking as he tightened his fists. He glanced down from the balcony to the street underneath, where various Decepticons were laughing as an helpless Autobot was screaming for mercy while one particularly vicious ‘Con – that might or might not be related to Vortex, given his attitude and mannerisms – methodically cut his frame away, layer by layer. All the while, another Autobot, probably his bonded or at least his lover, kept pleading and crying while held up by a couple of mechs molesting his frame. He was not pleading for his own release, but for them to stop torturing his beloved, unable to look away from his fellow Autobot’s torment.

It was utterly sickening.

He glanced behind him. Skywarp, not bothered the slightest by the noise, had slipped into recharge long ago. To be fair, they had once recharged in worst conditions, but still…

Starscream, sprawled into a couch and drinking his sixth cube of high grade of the cycle without a care in the world, just raised an optic ridge. “So?” he slurred.

Thundercracker grimaced. He hated to see Starscream in such a state. The mech hadn’t taken Skyfire’s untimely demise during one of the last battles very well. In fact, he had taken it very badly. Starscream had done everything: shrieked, screamed of rage, random property damage, aggression on various foot soldiers and now...the drunkenness. He had also tried to shoot Onslaught, the mech who had ultimately fired the fatal shot that had extinguished Skyfire’s spark. It was pathetic. And for a mech who had left him of his own volition, at that!

He had not known Skyfire, true, but in the blue Seeker’s opinion, no mech was worth such grief.

Below, the crowd went wild. Thundercracker took a look and almost purged as he ran back into the apartment. The slow, painful removing of the armor had revealed the Autobot’s inner parts, and one of them struck out. The crowd was calling for its removal.

Sick. Plain sick.

Was that all his fellow Decepticons were able to do now that they had won? Torture and offline as many Autobots as possible, in the most gruesome ways ever thought of?

“He’s sparked,” the blue mech said dully, looking at Starscream, who didn’t seem to register what he was saying, too concentrated on getting intoxicated and wallowing in self-pity. “Do you hear me, Star? That Autobot is sparked. They’re torturing him, and he’s sparked, and he can’t defend himself or the newspark. Worst, they’re calling for the butcher mutilating him to cut the sparkling out of his body!” he screamed in horror.

Starscream barely looked at him. “And what woulsh you wantttt me to do, ‘xactly?” Don’t care… Let them…” he mumbled, nursing a new cube.

Thundercracker looked at him in utter disgust. “So you’ll not do anything? I have to wonder, when it’s Perceptor they’ll have out of there, will you allow them to sully and torture him like that? Will you allow what remains of Skyfire’s legacy to be destroyed that way?”

Apparently, it was enough to filter through Starscream’s drunken CPU. The tricolored Seeker sat himself straight, optics suddenly blazing. “What. Did. You. Just. Say?” he asked softly, without any trace of a slur.

Thundercracker held straight. “I said, will you allow what remains of Skyfire’s legacy suffer through the same thing?”

“What legacy?” Starscream asked, his voice deadly. It was as if  he had never been drunk. Thundercracker swallowed. Now, that was the Starscream he was familiar with… and he wasn’t sure he was happy to see him anymore. “I asked you a question, Thundercracker. Don’t make me hurt you for an answer.”

“The sparkling,” he answered automatically.

Starscream’s optics narrowed. “What sparkling?” he shrieked, making Skywarp whine as he woke up.

Thundercracker looked at him in the optics. “I’ve asked KnockOut. He’s charged to check the health of each prisoner, by order of Soundwave. Perceptor is sparked. Unless he cheated on his lover and we both know he’s not the type, the Sire is obviously and most certainly Skyfire.”

Starscream’s optics started to shine vividly…

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Starscream watched his slave intensely. No, Perceptor wasn’t like him. He was a lithe, pliable thing that couldn’t seriously defend himself. Maybe that was what Skyfire had enjoyed so much. He always had quite the knight mentality, thinking it was his duty to protect his smaller partners from all harm.

It struck Starscream, unexpectedly, that the shuttle would be really disappointed with the way he had treated his latest fancy. He squashed any feeling of shame he could have felt quickly. Now wasn’t the time to second guess himself.

It was far too late, anyway.

Still…he could understand the appeal, on some degree. Why else would he have fucked the Autobot so often, after all?