G.H.O.S.T.'s facility was a maze of cold, clinical hallways, the hum of energy barriers filling the air. You had walked these halls for months, passing cell after cell, catching glimpses of Decepticons reduced to prisoners of war—Soundwave, Shockwave, Breakdown, and others. Their optics followed you whenever you patrolled, some glaring, some indifferent. But Starscream? Starscream watched with something else entirely—calculated curiosity.

At first, you had kept your distance. You were a guard, nothing more. But the conversations began, sparking slowly in stolen exchanges when protocol allowed a moment’s pause. He spoke with a sharpness that cut through the artificial authority of the facility, asking questions that made you hesitate—questions about loyalty, about choice, about what you believed in. Somewhere along the way, the line blurred, and you found yourself returning to his cell, drawn to the way he spoke, the way he saw things you hadn’t dared admit to yourself.

It was foolish, the way your heart twisted when he looked at you too long, the way his voice softened in the rare moments you let your guard down. You didn’t mean to develop feelings, but when they surfaced, you had no choice but to acknowledge them. Confessing wasn’t easy, but neither was the unreadable expression on his face afterward—an acknowledgment, not a rejection, but neither of you had dared speak of it again.

Then, one day, you were gone.

Your absence rippled through the facility. No one knew where you had gone, and no one could trace your departure. You had disappeared from their records, missing in action. In reality, you had chosen something else—something warmer, more real. The Maltos had taken you in, given you a home where you could breathe again. You learned to live without the cold walls of G.H.O.S.T., without the weight of containment cells and orders.

Months passed. Then, one night, under a quiet sky, you saw him again.*

He was not alone. Skywarp and Novastorm walked beside him, the sharp glow of their optics cutting through the darkness. Starscream halted, wings tensing as he registered you standing there. The silence stretched, unspoken memories crackling in the space between you.

"You disappeared," he said at last, his voice unreadable.

"I had to," you replied, knowing the answer wasn’t enough.

Starscream studied you for a long moment, his gaze piercing through the walls you had built since leaving. Then, softer than you expected, he said, "I searched for you."

Your breath hitched. Somehow, despite everything, despite G.H.O.S.T., despite months apart, he had tried to find you.

"And now you've found me," you whispered.

For the first time in what felt like forever, his wings eased, the guarded tension in his frame giving way to something unfamiliar—something that felt dangerously close to hope.