Chapter Text
“You must think I'm a fool.”
“You’re young, we’ve all made bad decisions. I should know.”
“You don’t think it’s foolish that I still love him?”
“Love is a strong word.”
“It’s the only word that feels right… what we had.”
“Listen, kid, I hate to break it to you, but what you both had, it wasn’t love.”
“It’s the only love we both ever know. Despite the dents and scratches, what matters is that we did love each other, in our own way.”
“Clearly not a love that lasted or should remain.”
“I know, but it was real… once.”
As a miner, their recharge stations were always crowded. Even in the middle of the lunar cycle, you were bound to come across some mechs still awake and messing around. As Dee stared at his new quarters at the High Guard base, he felt nothing but the coldness of the habsuite. It was small, since the building was an old relic from the time of the Primes and the High Guard didn’t exactly have the best accommodations while on the surface, yet it felt too large for him. Even the berth - a proper horizontal berth - looked uncomfortable to lay on.
He’d never been alone before.
“I don’t…” Dee hesitated, blue optics casted down as he tried to avoid the older mech’s gaze. He wanted to explain that he didn’t need his own space, that he was fine bunking with the other High Guard members, yet what came out of his intake was different, “You don’t know what Pax is like.”
“Enlighten me.” He didn’t know if the older mech was angry or it was simply his nature to be snarky, yet Dee could tell from Starscream’s tense wing panels and crossed arms that he was at least annoyed with… him?
“Pax was a good friend—”
“Ha! And the Primes were exactly the way Sentinel portrayed them to be.” Starscream rolled his optics, pressing a servo to his face as his wings flicked upwards. “Kid, I understand friendship. Trust me, I do, but I cannot put my trust in you if you are this compromised—”
“Pax was a good friend.” He insisted, servos curling into fists. His spark whirred inside his chassis, a bubbling anger that made him want to scream. Yet in an instant, the ember died out and he was left in the wake of its ashes. “He was…”
“May I remind you the last time I talked to Orion Pax, he threatened to rip my trinemate’s wings off.” Dee did remember that, and he had to bite his glossa from retorting that the only reason Pax had been hostile was because Thundercracker had grabbed Pax without asking for permission. He knew better than to antagonize Starscream who had begun to pace the length of the room, the High Guard Commander’s blue optics darkening ever so slightly. “That isn’t even mentioning how aggressive he was and, small question, did we both not see him be chosen as a Prime?”
“I know.”
“And Sentinel!” The seeker nearly snarled, wing panels lifting to shadow the light from the hall. Cogless as he was, Dee felt eclipsed underneath that harsh blue gaze. “You do not wish to imagine the horrors he must be going through. He may have fallen far from who he once was, but no mech deserves to be under the cruelty of a Prime.”
“I know.”
“And you!” Starscream threw his arms up, the exasperation so visible in his face that Dee felt a hint of shame. “I do not for one klik believe you’re naive enough to not—”
“I know!” He stomped his pede, wanting nothing more than to hit the wall or to curl up underneath the berth where it was dark and reminded him of the isolation of the times. Yet he felt all he achieved from his outburst was proving Starscream right at how young he was. Dee was used to others looking down at him, yet it stung all the same. “Of course, I knew! I’m not as blind as I like to pretend I am. I knew what Pax was like! And I didn’t care, Starscream! Because he was what I needed, okay?!”
His frame moved before he could think.
There was nowhere on the base he could go, and there was no home to return to.
All he had was this cold habsuite next to old mechs who wouldn’t leave him alone. He could hardly walk anywhere without Soundwave appearing and attempting to lighten his ‘grumpy’ mood, or Shockwave insisting Dee could always talk to him.
Even in what was supposed to be his habsuite, there was no privacy, because Starscream had followed him here to lecture him.
And yet…
He didn’t want them to leave him alone.
He can’t be alone.
It did nothing but ruin his appearance, yet Dee could care less as he buried his face on the berth, wishing that he could scream and cry yet what use was that?
It would only make Starscream think lower of him.
It would only make Shockwave or Soundwave or both rush into the room in an attempt to calm him down.
He didn’t need that.
Yet what he needed wasn’t right.
And maybe… it was wrong to need Pax…
He tried not to cry, yet he could feel the coolness of the cleaning fluid on his cheekplates, their soft cascade…
Dee did not make a noise. It was a practiced habit. He did not cry often, yet he was emotional - Pax always said as much. Yet, in the mines, he couldn’t show such weakness.
A small sob received mockery.
Weeping meant ridicule.
Outwardly crying could lead to a physical altercation if you didn’t keep yourself under control.
It wasn’t that the others miners were mean. In some ways, it was an attempt to keep one another safe - a painful shield. Better to face harsh criticism from your peers than from the cogged mechs who would only relish in your misery.
It felt strange.
He only ever shed tears for Pax.
Pax was the only one who ever allowed Dee to feel.
When he first came online at the start of the solar cycle, it was Pax’s face that he saw.
It was always Pax. Even when the stars had finally disappeared from the sky, it was as though there was one that would always be there for him. Pax always woke up first, impatiently waiting for Dee and crowding him in his own recharge berth until Dee was online and he could drag him to another grand scheme of his.
Dee had put up his usual fuss during the Iacon 5000, as he always did when Pax wanted him to do anything dangerous, yet they both knew deep inside Dee would always be by Pax’s side through anything.
Now, where was he?
As the tears continued to fall from his optics, he pressed his servos to his face even though he knew Starscream couldn’t see it anyway. He felt the chill of the cleaning against his digits, yet there was nothing compared to the warmth of energon that no longer stained his servos… yet he could feel it… feel Pax…
Dee always liked the stars.
It was difficult in Iacon since the view of the sky was blocked by the shifting surface, yet there were times when an opening would reveal the bright lights above. It always saddened him when he had to bid them farewell, yet that feeling would disappear as soon as he saw Pax.
It didn’t matter if the stars would one day fade away - long-living as Cybertronians were.
Who cared for lights so far away when he had his own star always waiting for him?
And yet… Dee should have known that all stars fade away.
Or well no, stars did fade away, yet they could also grow brighter.
And Pax…
Dee was a fool to think that Pax could ever want him.
Or maybe, it was his fault for forgetting that stars burn.
Lost as he was in his thoughts, he nearly missed the servo that landed against his back. In the blackhole that was beginning to consume his processor, he nearly forgot that Starscream was still in the room. This was no place for him to be emotional.
He could never show such weakness again.
“You don’t have to hide yourself. You can cry.”
“Not in front of you.” Dee wiped the traces away, hoping that overtime the tears would stop and he would not leave corrosive marks on his face. To show such a weakness, it would be embarrassing. “I know you don’t understand why. I know your story. I know what you’ve gone through, so I understand why you think I’m being a fool. But you don’t know me, and you don’t know Pax. It is best I move on, I know, but for this lunar cycle let me grieve.”
“You’re right.” Starscream’s voice was soft, nearly comforting. “I don’t know you.”
He felt the berth shift, and a wing panel graze his own blue ones. Dee looked over his shoulder, and from the light of the hall, he could nearly see Starscream’s face. The seeker’s helm was raised slightly in that haughty way he carried himself, yet there was a gentleness in his optics as he moved his servo from Dee’s back to his shoulder.
“Yet, you’re now under my care. You’re under the High Guard’s protection. I forget that you’re nothing but a civilian.”
Starscream let out a small vent.
“So, explain, why is he a mech worth these tears?”