Settlement - Chapter 3

[heliopauseentertainments]

Continuity: IDW1

Rating: Teen

Relationship: Starscream/Prowl, past Megatron/Starscream

Characters: Prowl, Starscream

Warnings: No major warnings apply. Please see AO3 entry for full applicable tags.

AU: Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage

Summary: In which, as part of a peace treaty, Prowl and Starscream are caught in a very, very unwanted arranged marriage.

Crossposting: Tumblr (first chapter only) | AO3 (ongoing) | DW (first chapter)

Chapter under cut. Please see AO3 for further chapters and the most up-to-date versions. Crossposting to DW takes longer.

Inspired by a series of cracky drabbles on Tumblr.
 

It was easy to get up early when you didn't sleep. Prowl had always had trouble recharging. On the plus side, even with the groggy side-effects, no one questioned his short temper and he was always up when he needed to be. In this case, that meant being on time for an early transport to Kaon.

The Functionists no longer held outright power, having been destroyed early on in the war, but some teachings were still coded deep into his systems, leaving Prowl with a momentary pang of guilt as he walked to the transport station in the dim pre-dawn light. While he technically could have driven halfway across the planet, the distance justified his decision to not rely on his alt-mode this time.

He also didn't want to have to drive through the Sea of Rust and get all manner of grit in his gears. He’d rather not waste time with unnecessary maintenance, not when he had more pressing matters to attend to.

Starscream’s ancient apartment keys, for instance.

Prowl tried to ignore their weight in his subspace as they rattled with every step. The keys prompted so many questions, too many questions. Why use insecure, ancient technology when modern electrical locks with rubprint identification and optical scanners were readily available? Why did Megatron have these keys in the first place? They obviously should have been with Starscream. Why were the keys left with Rodimus, a mech more likely to misplace them when the next shiny thing caught his attention than remember to give them to Prowl?

He had more questions, but he thought that now wouldn’t be the best time to dwell. He’d have plenty of time at the apartment. With Starscream in Iacon, the odds of being interrupted were low. He also, however unfortunately, would have rights to be there in that apartment as the blasted seeker’s legal spouse and—No.

Prowl was getting ahead of himself. He hadn’t even arrived at the transport station yet, let alone gotten anywhere near Kaon. There would be plenty of time to suss out answers when he arrived.

“I can get a job,” said a voice across the street, shattering the silence of the early morning. Prowl paused his march on instinct, battle computer immediately running odds and threat assessment. He snapped his head to the side, recognizing Whirl—a known troublemaker that immediately tilted his simulations to more catastrophic outcomes—as he sat on a bench with… a purple mech, one horned, slender and tall but with a solid build. No badge. Sword on his back. No mech in his database pulled up that matched these descriptions.

The threat assessment program pinged a conclusion which flashed red on his HUD.

High risk.

The outcome probability simulations were still running, but Prowl reached for his holster just in case while Whirl held up his claws for the unknown mech to see.

“Even with these I can—“

“No, that’s alright,” said the purple mech, voice calm and patient. “We’ll make ends meet.”

Ah. While that didn’t eliminate the chances of violent shenanigans this morning, the odds were lessened. Prowl stalled his hand.

“I have something in mind while Tailgate looks for work.” Prowl filed away a recording of the conversation, just in case he returned to an Iacon full of crime. This would be useful evidence in the fut—

“I think I’ll get back into real estate in the interim.”

Never mind.

Closing the outcome probability simulation software, Prowl turned his head back in the direction of the path he’d been walking towards the station.

                                                                                                    

 

Getting to the apartment had been a bit of a problem. Prowl had downloaded a map and plotted his route while he had been on the transport to Kaon. Everything should have been straightforward, but actually navigating the streets had been a bit more complicated.

Construction work that hadn’t shown up on the map blocked paths. Barricade investigating a theft forced Prowl to take a lengthy detour to avoid getting caught in the inquest. Apartment buildings with poor numbering made him going in circles looking for the right place. Even inside the building, Prowl had gotten turned around several times looking for the right door.

Luckily, he saved a little time with most mechs taking one look at him and giving him a wide berth. These Cons, to their credit, knew he meant business even if he was on their turf.

Yet, at last, here he was.

Staring at the door, Prowl pulled the grimy keys from his subspace. He let them rest in his hand as he gave the door a once over, rubbing his thumb over what he presumed would be the apartment key specifically.

The door was pristine, relatively speaking, as it wasn’t of the highest quality and the neighborhood wasn’t exactly nice, even taking Kaon’s relative poverty into account. Not marked with graffiti. No signs of damage. There was some rust lingering along the tracks, indicating that the door had not been slid open in quite some time.

Had no one tried to break in? Even though surely the apartment of the second-in-command would contain valuable goods or secrets? Then again, why would the second-in-command live in a shabby, rundown apartment building like this? Starscream had mentioned something about living in poverty because of Megatron pinching shanix, but… the inside would tell him more.

Unease coiled in his fuel tanks as his processor automatically starting running simulations on what he would be most likely to find behind the door. There was a nonzero chance the door was rigged to explode upon being opened. A threat assessment alert popped up on his HUD.

Moderate risk.

He’d already come this far.

Prowl glanced up and down the hallway, ensuring that no one was watching, even if technically he wasn’t trespassing. Slotting the key into the deadbolt, he turned it before sliding the door open. No one had been oiling the tracks to ensure a smooth slide, so a little percussive maintenance was necessary to create enough of a gap for the commander to pass through. His doors scraped on the frame before he managed to pull himself clear into the dark apartment.