Author's Notes- Hi here is the beginning of a (hopefully) short fic about Megatron and the other higher ranking Decepticons raising a sparkling Starscream. Future chapters will contain Skyfire but how I would imagine him to be as a Decepticon so not quite in character. Also, though there may be slash in later chapters, I want to let you guys know right from the start that nothing inappropriate will happen with/to Starscream until he receives his adult upgrades. This will be a mixture of fluff and angst, so there will be some scenes of sparkling abuse.

I have been reading a lot of sparkling Starscream fics recently (Kibble Beast's 'The Edge of Reason' and autobotgirl12328's 'A Childhood Misfortune' in particular and I would recommend both) and have been thinking about trying to do one myself, so here is the first chapter of my effort.

Suggestions are welcomed.

Bold- Comm link.

Italics- Thoughts/memories/link speak.

Possible future pairing- Megatron/Starscream

Warnings- Rated T but may rise to an M later for slash so later chapters may be censored on this site. Sparkling abuse, violence and Transformer swearing.

Disclaimer- I do not own Transformers or its characters.

Verse- AU.

Units of Time: Astrosecond- 1 second, Klik- 1 minute, Cycle- 1 hour, Orn- 1 day, Decacycle- 1 week, Meta-cycle- 1 month, Solar cycle- 1 year, Vorn- 1 million years.

Unbetaed.

All mistakes are my own.

Hope you all enjoy it and sorry for the long Author's Notes.

Commodity

Chapter One- Companion

Megatron shifted in his berth, a quiet sniffling needling at his audios and disturbing the quiet of his berthroom. With a sigh blowing from his vents he stood and approached the small crib against the dull wall on the other side of the room.

A small mechling cringed in recharge underneath a thin metallic blanket, optic fluid trickling down the young Cybertronian's faceplates as small sounds of distress emerged from him, muffled by the soft material he seemed to be hiding under.

Quietly, the large mech removed the front bars of the cot and put them to one side to rest against his stained purple chest of drawers. Easing the small mech into his servos, he caressed the wings that had only just formed, finally developing from useless and incredibly sensitive stubs.

The delicate, bent from earlier punishment, wings flicked up into the aspiring tyrant's servo, no doubt unconsciously seeking comfort and forgiveness. Megatron felt inclined to give both, Soundwave having told him repeatedly that he was too hard on the youngster and, in this instance, the Decepticon agreed.

He had allowed his emotions and frustrations to get the best of him and taken it out on the softly playing, giggling sparkling using the flimsy excuse that the little one was distracting him. After standing, attempting to rationalise with and listening to the never-ending ridiculous prattle of the Cybertronian Council for cycles on end; and focussing on his opponents in the pits while simultaneously ignoring and absorbing the roars of crowd, it would be inconceivable to those who knew him that he could be disrupted from a task so easily.

The way the telepath's visor flickered voiced his unspoken disapproval louder than words ever could.

The soon-to-be flier stirred slightly from his doze, pain not allowing him to fully fall into the land of slumber, and stared in nervous fright at his guardian. Megatron took him to his far larger multi-layered berth and sat down, carefully cradling the youngster to his chassis in one servo as he unsubspaced a toy the head of the underground Decepticon faction had not thought about for many solar cycles.

Putting the sides of his metallic palms together so that his protégé could reach the large sack-like plaything if he wished, Megatron smiled and gave an encouraging click to the small creature.

The small mech rolled onto all fours and tentatively reached out to the toy that was easily twice his size, helm resting on his shoulder as he stared at it then glanced up at Megatron anxiously. The larger mech nodded and watched in the semi-darkness as his charge crawled lightly across his palms and up into the waiting stubby arms of his new grey-brown playmate.

Snuggling into it, the mechling forgot his hurts, and purred contentedly enjoying the sense of being held by a toy that was so much bigger than he was used to.

'I am sorry I hurt you today little one,' Megatron murmured, lifting his servo to drop a kiss on top of his protégé's tiny helm, 'and that I took your toys, your companions, from you. But you may have this to keep; no one will take it from you. It was mine when I was your age vorns ago…' The elder began to gently straighten and caress the aspiring flier's wings, 'I expect you to take good care of him.'

The Seeker gave an affirmative chirp, clicking excitedly at his new friend and nuzzling at his guardian's servo when it petted his back and helm.

The Decepticon's engines gave an affectionate rumble, watching the two become acquainted as he repaired the little mech, glad for the distraction the toy was providing. He could ignore the sparkling's pain when anger was clouding his senses but otherwise he did not truly enjoy seeing the youngling cry.

After a little while, clearly feeling warm and cheerful, the mechling began to drift into a proper, restful recharge; curled into the makeshift chassis of the toy. Megatron stood slowly so as not to disturb the tiny mech and carried him back to his crib.

Tucking his charge in, smirking at the little chirps the sparkling was giving, the small engine humming in re-established calm, Megatron briefly remembered seeing the little mech for the first time in a mass-breeding Seeker sanctuary.

The room housing the sparklings, Seekers normally conceiving and birthing at much the same time due to heat cycles and the dominant nature of their carrying programming, could it seemed quite feasibly fit the Prime's palace inside. The fliers kept their young together in order to protect them and for the hatchlings to socialise from an early age. It also allowed the elders to see which of the youngsters should be trined with others. It did not matter straight away if there was not the numbers for every hatchling to have a trinemate as such things could wait until just before their adult upgrade if absolutely necessary.

Of course some were sparked as a trine, coming from the same carrier and sire, but this was not always the case as many fliers were born alone or in twos, allowing different bonds to form between the fliers, some of siblings, others of lovers.

Megatron's youngster had been birthed alone, and was now spending most of his orns as a youngling in almost complete solitude if not for the fact that his Decepticon guardian made sure he was supervised often. It was not unusual, however, for the sparkling to simply be locked in his caretaker's berthroom and expected to both entertain and look after himself.

The flier had to know how to be independent, it was imperative.

The large mech had roamed up and down the cots, ignoring those already in groups or that were somehow damaged from birth or development. Many were recharging deeply, only the soft rise and fall of their chassis and barely audible whirring of their systems letting passing observers know that they were not permanently offline; and others cowered from the unfamiliar imposing mech.

One however, did not try to hide from him.

The little mechling had curiously come right up to the bars of his crib and stared up inquisitively at the far older mech.

'You're a fearless one aren't you?' Megatron paused and crouched beside the hatchling's mini-berth, chuckling lowly as a small servo reached between the bars to stroke his faceplate. Standing he dipped his servo down and swiftly scooped the youngster into the air, throwing and catching him once as the one-orn flier gasped in delight at being airborne.

A baptism of sorts.

'Yes, I think you will do.'

Turning, the hatchling curled into his chassis half-hidden by the massive servo holding him, Megatron nodded to the carers and made his way over to them to finish negotiations.

There was a war coming even if most of the populace were unaware of it and both sacrifices and alliances had to be made.

The Decepticons already had a consignment of fully-fledged fliers if needed but Soundwave had warned him that the numbers were on nowhere near the scale they would need and that the leaders' loyalty was questionable. Megatron had therefore partially coerced, partly negotiated with Vos's Winglord for control of these new-sparks and he intended to groom his chosen one to be his Air Commander and possibly… other things as well.

To add these to his flock was a long-term commitment to a large degree, one he had not reached before but would soon surpass in other areas, and to keep them secret meant a permanent move to Kaon from Iacon. Not that that was especially suspicious, his building reputation in the gladiator pits had long ago reached the audios of his brother and the rest of the Senate.

It would be frowned upon but not overly condemned or looked into.

He would take the carers with him, as well as some Vos officials to appease the Winglord, and have his appointed officers ensure that they raised the younglings accordingly.

A security risk was the creators of the little ones but Megatron trusted the Winglord to keep them quiet, and Vos was isolated enough that one batch of hatchlings going missing, easily replaced in a few meta-cycles, should go unnoticed by the outside world.

That and the hatchlings were high-born and so, in a way, less cared for than their social inferiors, viewed more as commodities and a way for their creators to achieve advancement in their sectors than as actual individual beings. It would almost be easier to remove a sparkling by force from a member of the elite than a working-class Seeker for precisely that reason.

They might be saddened but ultimately only because they had lost a treasured possession rather than a family member but, as is the case for most possessions, to them it was nothing that could not be replaced and the original all but forgotten.

After adult upgrades most of the Seeker upper classes never truly saw their creations again. Initiation of arranged bondings even in cities thousands of miles from Vos, commitment to office or Cybertron's army and a host of other reasons allowed them to benefit from their young with only minimal contact with them.

The Winglord need only promise some sort of boon, however slight, and the matter would never be made public. At least, until Megatron wished it to be.

By the time he crunched across the gravel to reach his waiting carriage outside the hatchling, wrapped in a warmed blanket, had slipped into recharge, light ventilations puffing against the Decepticon's metallic skin.

It might have been Optimus's influence, it still having some sway in his spark then, but he felt some fondness for the small creature and it had never entirely left him.

Now as he looked at his little investment, Megatron grinned, sharp fangs bared.

The Senate still believed him a loyal servant and easy puppet but soon, when everything came to fruition, they would see the magnitude of their error.

And his little Starscream would help pave the way.

Thanks for reading and please leave a review.

Advanced warning- I go back to university at the end of this week so updates in general will slow down but I will try my best to keep them as frequent as possible, if a little short. I'll try to get Acid Rain updated at some point this week.