((Okay, here's another one-shot of mine, sort of angst-y-ish, and focusing on Starscream. Personally, I'm torn between a love/hate relationship with the guy and I'd always thought he was a bit crazier than everybody let on. And thus, this was born. It's a bit confusing, but I'll explain it at the end.

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers.))

SUBMIT

"Nooooo!"

The shriek that echoed about the Harbinger's walls was punctuated by the roar of thunder from outside. The storm was quickly accumulating and lightning lit up the ship's remains, a clap of thunder following swiftly.

In the bowels of the ship, against the far wall, lay a thin, prone form. Starscream shuddered and coughed weakly. He was well aware of the Energon that was pooling around him, resulting from the various cuts and scrapes all over his frame. He hated this, being so weak. He hated it when he came around, because it always meant pain. It always meant he had to submit, let him take control. And 'Scream was never one for feeling weak or helpless. But, as he'd accepted long ago, it was pointless to fight back. It only led to more pain. Still, the nagging in his spark grew. He had to do-

Oh Primus, how it hurt! He felt the blade pierce his fragile wings as his attacker dragged it across, leaving a long gaping bleeding slice on his wings. He wanted to scream so badly but he grit his dentas and bore it. This didn't sit well with his attacker. Claw-like fingers hooked under Starscream's chin and brought him up to optic level. He met the burning red gaze steadily, only feeling the slightest urge to shift away. "Why aren't you cowering, you helpless little wimp?" a voice shrieked in his audios. A foot to Starscream's midsection earned a low groan, which his attacker grinned at. "There. That's better. I don't see why you continue to rebuff me. It would be in both our best interests if you submitted but, oh well," the blade ran across his cheek, drawing up the slightest spark and causing Starscream to flinch, "some 'bots never change."

"Go to the Pit," Starscream muttered. At this, his attacker spun on his heel, optics narrowing in fury.

"What was that?" he demanded.

"Nothing,"

"I heard that," his attacker advanced on him, blade raised. "Perhaps I should put you in your place, you-"

The attacker visibly recoiled at a glob of Energon that struck him right in the middle of his faceplate and slowly dribbled down his cheeks and over his mouth. Starscream spat out some more to the side of him, smirking slightly at the panic attack the mech was having.

"You spit on me," his attacker seemed to just now realize this. "You spit on me, you little glitch-head. That's it!" With a roar, he advanced on Starscream. "I'm going to offline you here and now!"

Starscream stood, bearing the pain, and fired a missile, which struck the metal just in front of his attacker. It was a warning shot and his attacker knew it, as he took a step back.

"No!" Starscream snapped. "You always come here and push me around and I'm sick of it! I'm sick of all you've ever done to me, and all you've ever made me do! So I'm done! You can go and take your egotistical and condescending attitude and stick it up your afterburners!"

His attacker looked incredulous at this, before rage flickered in his optics, and he ran at Starscream. Starscream put on a burst of speed to dart out of the room, locking his attacker in temporarily. Then he sprinted down the hallway. Outside, the storm had grown in power, until the wind was howling and the rain was cascading down in torrents. Starscream skidded to a stop and his optics widened in panic as he realized he couldn't fly out in this weather.

And his attacker knew it. He turned to see his opponent standing there, a grim expression on his face, blade drawn. No words needed to be said, and, indeed, neither spoke. Starscream reloaded another missile, resigning himself to his fate. The missile he fired whistled past his attacker's head and caused a part of the ship to explode. His attacker's motions were fluid, nearly a blur, and suddenly he was on top of Starscream. The Seeker screamed, shrieked when the bladed hand plunged into his chest, erupting out of his back under his wing, spark nestled on it's very tips glowing and, then, ebbing out. His attacker pulled his Energon-soaked arm out. "And then there was one."

"Please," Starscream coughed, flecks of blue staining gray armor. "Mercy."

"'Begging for mercy would be quite pathetic, wouldn't it?'" his attacker taunted and turned to go, though he cast one smug look at Starscream.

Starscream's last sight before he offlined was of himself, his killer, transforming and flying away.

~.~.~.~.~.

Starscream jolted awake, missiles at the ready. He calmed down when the familiar walls of his berthroom on the Harbinger met his optics. His body was untouched, lacking cuts or a hole in his spark chamber. He, disappointingly, found no Energon on his arm, no sign of his kill.

Although, in his head, he felt a certain new levity. Finally, the original, annoying personality was gone, permanently. Though the second personality-a spawn of 'Scream's own twisted, darkest desires-hadn't been around long, he had certainly done much: killed Cliffjumper, attempted to overthrow Megatron, attacked the Autobots, taunted Arcee. And now the thing that had held him back, that had always been holding him back, was gone. His conscience, in a sense, was finished.

"All he had to do was submit," Starscream muttered victoriously to himself before he drifted back into unconsciousness. "Too bad he was too stubborn. Too bad indeed."

((Split personality. 'Nough said.))