Point of No Return
by SMYGO4EVA
Ratchet didn't know how long he had been in the Deceptions' captivity.
Whether it was nanokliks or stellar cycles, it felt far too long for his taste.
Keeping him hostage with the Synth-En formula as leverage was bad enough, using him only for conducting experiments for the stabilized formula. But then it was back to his cell in the brig, no more and certainly no less.
The provisions weren't even that satiating for him. With what little Energon he received, it wasn't that appealing anyway.
He had no choice in the matter – it was either this or Cybertron would be lost, with no planet to call home besides Earth.
But still, he was betraying his team, his comrades…Optimus…
Sitting upon the lone berth in his cell, the cool and dank air barely flustered him anymore at this point. Nor did the glaring light above him give him any less fears of what was to come. Being cursed to rot in this cell until the end of his days paled in comparison to what he had created with the Synth-En formula.
All he could do was wait, see the fruits of his labor, and then lament upon the irony of the situation he had been forced into. Forgiveness and rescue might never come.
The door then barreled open, giving him a start and he turned to see a silhouette come into the light. He let out a soft sigh of relief when it wasn't Megatron, Starscream, Soundwave, not even Shockwave or Knock Out. It was Slipstream, her features serious but delicate. She was one of the few female Decepticons he had encountered, the only one besides Airachnid, that is.
Being a Seeker and a scientist, Slipstream turned out to be the most knowledgeable about the present data of the formula, even more so than Ratchet, yet on par with Knock Out and Shockwave.
She walked forward, each step of her heeled-pedes making the only sound in the cell before she sat next to him in response to his sudden nervousness of her presence.
"Hello, Ratchet. I trust that you're well, given the circumstances." Slipstream replied, a little sign of query in her tone of voice.
"To be honest, I've been better." Ratchet replied, exhaustion evident and all present in his conduct.
"So I've heard. I came here to have a look at your vitals and to discuss the formula – Lord Megatron wants his physicians to be in proper form for the recreation of the Synth-En."
"I imagine he would."
"You barely had any Energon. Is it not to your liking?" Slipstream stated her voice tactful yet still brimming with questions.
Ratchet, almost flustered by the question, struggled to respond. "N-No. I haven't needed it, that's all."
"But you do need your strength, Ratchet. Even if what we could provide for you isn't to your tastes."
"I-I have not been in need of anything, as of late, besides completing the research for the formula."
Slipstream then shifted a little closer to Ratchet, the distance between them only mere feet now.
"Really? What would you be in need of? Besides your freedom?" She asked him, her voice almost coy, but not playful.
Ratchet bit his lip and shifted a bit where he sat. "I-I don't know." Pulse. "All that I have been doing is what was right for the Autobot cause. What I'm a part of, making them secure and change everything that I could… if I could have done better. Even if it feels like I'm losing myself in the process." The medic then let out a haggard sigh and cupped his faceplate with his servos.
He was just so tired of everything.
Slipstream saw this as a notion to move an inch closer to him, a servo touching on his arm before putting an arm around his shoulders. He stiffened as she did so. "Ratchet – I know how you feel. Doing all that you can to feel fulfilled, only to lose what makes you yourself, your own definition of self, hoping to change in the process. So, doctor, even if your head is telling you that you're someone else, I'm still willing to bet…what's in here hasn't changed at all."
She placed a hand on his chassis, where his spark was pulsing. He winced at that contact.
"It's simple as that. I doubt in that in what you are accomplishing for us, for Cybertron, where you would find that what you existed for is not entirely there."
Her servo then trailed down his chassis, down his stomach, and then stopped above his waist. She was dangerously close to his codpiece…
Ratchet jerked up in response and jumped from the berth and onto his feet. Slipstream took her servo away in reflex.
"What are you doing?!" He yelled out, his form shaking, his spark pulsing in his chassis, his stomach doing back flips.
"Hmm, I thought that all mechs would love that from a femme. Especially one who seems to understand him." Slipstream uttered coyly, a smile creeping upon her painted lips.
"W-well, you have that all wrong! I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I don't do that, not anymore. We're on different sides! This can't happen."
"Oh, if you did anything, what would happen? Would you be betraying your team, your comrades, your beloved Prime? Would you rip free from a forced reprieve? From interfacing?" She answered for him, her tone becoming less reserved and near domineering.
Ratchet felt his faceplate grow hot, flinching at her mocking answer. He hung his head, clenching his fists, refusing to say anything.
"Oh? Anymore, you say?" She said aloud, her optics alit, her eyeridge arching as she uncrossed her legs and stood up, walking up to the medic, the distance between them almost gone. "Maybe what you need is something more pleasurable to set your mind straight."
Before he could reply, Slipstream leaned in and caught Ratchet's lips with her own, her servos grabbing both his wrists and breaking the lip lock only to shove him back onto his bed, leaving a stunned medic in her wake.
"By the All Spark, wh-what are you doing?!"
She began to step forward to the berth, and she got upon the bed to straddle the medic. His stunned, confused, and horrified/aroused expression was so amusing to her, that she giggled in mock sweetness, almost callously, but even more caught up in her own lust.
Slipstream smiled playfully, almost maliciously, her optics roving up Ratchet's supine form underneath her, his squirming in confusion and embarrassment in his confliction arousing her even more.
"W-wh-, S-Slipstream, I-"
"I have left you speechless, dear Ratchet? That's a very good response from you, doctor. Don't worry. this cell is sound-proof. No one, not even Lord Megatron or our many minions could hear you and I together. Not that I would mind them hearing me scream, or especially you. My sweet Ratchet."
Her voice was low and husky, sweetly laced in anticipation, making his heartbeat speed up and almost leap out his chest. He became dizzy with fear and arousal, his vision blurring as his spark threatened to explode in his chassis.
"B-But I..."
"Shh…."
She placed a digit on his lips, silencing him for the moment.
"Relax, I'm just checking up on you, my dear Ratchet. You will feel more at peace once you had what you've been missing after so long, my sweet Autobot." Slipstream replied sweetly.
Before Ratchet could protest, she closed the distance between her and the bewildered medic by kissing him full on the lips.
Then, they were past the point of no return.