It's almost funny, how easily everything can go wrong after one tiny little mistake.

How flying just a little too close to an Autobot patrol that he didn't even know was there got him shot down and taken as a prisoner of war.

The famed Decepticon Second in Command, Master of the Skies, was brought down by one stupid minicon with a lucky shot.

And now, here Starscream is. Inside an Autobot cell and counting the seconds until his next round of torture, because if he counts the seconds then surely it'll take longer.

He'll never give away Decepticon secrets, or betray Megatron or work for the Autobots. Starscream would honestly rather die.

Unfortunately, Optimus Prime seems rather fixated on keeping him alive and as a trophy to taunt Megatron. Which is good for survival, but not so good for Starscream's sanity.

Its been... Weeks, probably since he's even seen the sky, let alone flown and the antsiness and claustrophobia have looped right back around to just feeling sick all the time. Not that he could fly anyway with how bent and sore his wings are.

Once pristine white and red paint has been scratched off and dirtied to the point that if Starscream didn't know any better, he'd think his own paint job was a sickly grey-brown.

Everyone in this Autobot base is insane, Starscream had very quickly figured out. It's obvious from a distance, but up close its even worse. He'd had no idea how much infighting really goes on within the Autobots, and while he knew their cruelty well, he didn't think it'd be so bad that some of the Autobots will just break a squirming minibot in half to drink its Energon like a snack.

As horrific as it all is, all it does is make him more determined to escape and help the Decepticons win the war. They have to. Or Earth and Cybertron will both be torn apart.

Starscream used to wonder if the Decepticons would come rescue him until he realised that he's probably been announced dead. He hopes Megatron and Soundwave and Shockwave don't mourn too much.