My first story of officially being on summer vacation! And to think, next year I'll be a senior in my last year of high school… fun. Goes to show how lazy I am, though. I wrote this as a prompt between Mistress of Blue Evil and I back in November. How come I never posted this until now? Laziness, as I've said, and rewriting the silly thing about a million times over because. The prompt was supposed to be a fanfic about our cars as movieverse Transformers, but we had to write from the perspective of the other person's car about our own. Shockshell is my car, a dark grey 2006 Chevy Impala Decepticon who regularly enjoys annoying people and sleeping, and Sonicboom is Mistress's, a dark blue 1990 Chevy Lumina Autobot with brake issues and the same problems the rest of the world's late teenagers have. Anyways, be warned that a lemon lies ahead somewhere in here, because Mistress wanted one and my bored reply was "meh, my car would top anyways." Concrit is welcome from for all ye who dare enter.
For who could ever learn to love a beast?
However cold the wind and rain, I'll be there to ease up your pain
However cruel the mirrors of sin, remember, beauty is found within
Touching me with the kiss of a beast
Beauty and the Beast - Nightwish
i
The first time I met him, it was raining.
It was September, 2009 – ten thirty-seven at night. The air was crisp with hint of oncoming fall, but the addition of the evening's drizzle made it miserable. I do like autumn ─ don't get me wrong ─ but New Hampshire rain at this time of the year is just plain wretched. Not having the luxury of parking in the garage only added to my frustration. Tony, my human charge's father, had decided to come home early from the construction firm that evening and take up my usual space with his insentient pickup.
My human charge was a young woman named Sarah. I had been a part of her family for almost twenty years at the time, but it was at the end of her high school sophomore school year in June when she caught me in my bipedal form stretching my aching joints in the backyard. I made the foolish presumption to think that she had left the house with her father, although she had taken our "official" meeting with stride and confidence… after she stopped screaming and unlocked herself from her house when I promised that I wasn't going to hurt her, at least. We became best friends rather quickly after that − my quiet personality melded well with her outgoing one – but when she told me she was going to be out late and that her friend was going to drive her home that one night, I was nervous. Sarah had been through a lot during the past year with the recent passing away of her mother − a woman who I once had the privilege of being acquainted with, as I used to be her car − and it was a general rule of thumb of mine that I not let Sarah out of my sight.
The late summer sky flashed with lightning. That was when he rounded the corner.
The wind had begun to pick up, signaling the coming of a storm and hiding the low rumble of an approaching engine. The famillar bob of headlight beams appeared down the road and suddenly a four-door, dark grey sedan was pulling into the driveway. At first, I thought my scanners were glitching, My online radar bean to bleep menacingly against the internal glow of my HUD, but its continued persistence made me finally come to terms that I wasn't hallucinating as I hoped I was. Sarah and Meghan had been at a football game and returned coming around the corner with a Decepticon. I had to desperately keep from transforming and exposing myself right there on the spot. Tony was still inside the house and Sarah was still with her friend. I couldn't allow myself to blow my cover or potentially put their lives in danger, no matter how powerful the 'Con's – dangerous − energy signature was.
Meghan and Sarah jumped out, laughing, and scampered into the house prattling about some interesting gossip that had taken place in the band section of the football bleachers. The screen door on the front of the porch swung open with a protestant squeal and slammed shut just as the dogs started barking.
That left me − alone − with the Decepticon.
In the low light cast out from the house's windows, he looked just as intimidating as his poorly concealed energy signature. He was a Chevrolet model like me and judging by the silver insignia of the leaping gazelle on his flank, I made the connection through a quick internet search that he was an Impala. A 2006 LS design to be precise. He was a dark grey with all curves and no sharp edges, but I could guess how hideously jagged his was underneath the surface. I had seen enough wanted posters of Lord Megatron and the other Decepticon elites to know that how grotesque and menacing of a faction they were.
The Impala sat motionless. His headlights dimmed and I was momentarily terrified that he would come at me. Surprisingly, he didn't.
Meghan came back outside and left with him. It was only the next morning that I confronted Sarah. After Tony left for work for the day and after my charge was finished attending to her chores inside the house, I sent her a text for her to meet me in the garage. She came out to greet me right away, and after checking to ensure that the doors were locked, I transformed and knelt low to the ground to avoid hitting my head on the ceiling. There were already several nicks up there from my past encounters with it. I hated low ceilings. Nevertheless, I went to extra levels of precautionary action to make sure my voice wouldn't rise to an unnecessary volume of panic when I spoke. "That car last night… what the frelling Pitt where you thinking?"
Sarah turned to look at me, quirking an eyebrow and unconsciously moving a strand of long hand behind her ear. She looked genuinely confused. "What about it?"
I revved my engine low. "He was a Decepticon. Those bad guys I told you about, remember? Decepticon."
That seemed to spook her. She rushed inside to call Meghan in alarm that easily mirrored mine. Getting her friend out of danger would be the first step before I called for backup from NEST, but I never got the chance too. Sarah came back less than ten minutes later, face was oddly contorted in deep thought.
I looked at her as she came in through the side door and perked to attention. "Well?"
"Uh…" Sarah paused, rubbing the the back of her head and looking to me with a shrug. "Meg… knows?"
I blinked. I couldn't necessarily find anything to say right away. That was how it all started.
ii
On days after football games where Sarah went to watch and Meghan participated in the marching band, both girls would drive back late at night in that accursed 'Con. Sarah wasn't going to get her liscence until late in December when she finished driver's education, so I was essentially stuck. They would get out from the Decepticon Impala when they got home, go inside for a few minutes to get a bite to eat, and leave me at the mercy of that wretched Decepticon's unnerving silence until Meghan came back out and took him away. It was after the third time he had been parked in my driveway, just as Sarah and Meghan disappeared into the confined of the little house, that I finally steeled my nerves and called him out.
"I know who you are," I growled. I tried to make myself sound older than I actually was in the vain hope that I would intimidate him.
He laughed.
His voice… Primus, his voice. I can't find words to describe all the emotions that I felt just then, even to this day. and I felt immediate intimidation, nervousness, attraction… that last one disgusted and frightened me all at once, knowing that such a rough voice could have such an effect. It was the single most tantalizing sound I had ever heard out of a mech. I half expected him to sound like a monster at first, his contemptuous sniggering made that much apparent, but then he spoke.
"Smart little fragger, aren't you?" the 'Con jeered haughtily. His intonation was absolutely devilish. I recognized the accent as Praxian from the way he audibly used the bottom of his air pumps to produce sound less than his own vocalizer. It gave his voice a light hiss when he pronounced certain words, drawing out their sounds for a fraction of a second klick than the Polyhexian speech patterns I was familiar with back home in Darkmount. He flared his powerful high beams in a disdainful manner. "What are you? A cadet?"
"I'm a junior officer," I sneered back, fully agitated now. I didn't care that I had revealed my position in the Autobot ranking order. He was grating on my nerves, and my stupidly young and naive nature was getting the better of my emotions. "What are you? A malfunctioning reject from the scrapheap?"
"Oh noes, my feelings are hurt. Whatever shall I do?" The Decepticon's voice went from sarcastically high pitched and effeminate to biting. "Please. I knew a Decepticon sparkling who could come up with better insults."
"Who?"
"Me."
I growled back and flared on my own high beams, hoping I could blind him. He seemed to laugh at my pitiful effort ─ my high beams were rather weak given the age of my alt-mode ─ but I still tried to withhold as much dignity as I could without breaking down into a nervously wrought heap. "What the frag do you want, 'Con? You're the Decepticon who was spotted in this area, aren't you?"
He scoffed. "So what if I was? I'm a free agent. And turn those damn things off, already. You're an embarrassment."
Without even thinking, I switched off my headlights off at the sound of his command. I paused for a moment afterward to wonder exactly why I was listening to him, but I didn't have time to come up with a witty comeback to regain my composure. Meghan and Sarah came out of the house, both human girls grinning and laughing about something incessant. I couldn't bring myself to care about what. Finally, the two femmes stopped and looked between the both of us. The Decepticon's high beams were still on.
Meghan's brow furrowed. "Quit it."
His engine revved. Powerfully. It made my own engine sound like a kitten squeak by comparison. "Make me."
"Oh wow. He's worse than Sonic," Sarah muttered.
I couldn't help but to sputter my horn in indignation. "You told her!"
Sarah turned and stuck her tongue out at me. "Well duh. I had to tell her something when I asked if her car was secretly a giant alien robot. What else was I supposed to say?"
Meghan nodded. "I asked her if her car was a robot too. We kinda… 'fessed up to one another after that." She rubbed the back of her neck, fussing with the short cropped black hair that was already mused from the night's activities at the football game. Meghan was a clarinetist who preformed during halftime with the rest of the band, and the uniform hats had a tendency to significantly muddle up her thick locks. She turned to look at her Decepticon with a distasteful frown. "And stop sneering at him. That's not very nice."
The low growling of his engine died away. "Brat."
"Loser."
"Fucker."
"Nice dent."
Although Shockshell didn't actually have a visible dent from what I could see, it still hit one of the Impala's sour spots. The Decepticon gunned his engine sharply, now visibly agitated and rising a little on his tires with ire.
The human femme only laughed at him and rapped her fingers on his hood. The metal there had a remarkable shine to it, and I realized that it was from a recent wax job. Then, judging from the bright look in Meghan's eyes, I could see that she obviously loved the 'Con in the same way that Sarah loved me. "I'm only teasing. No need to get your cylinders all in a bunch, Shockshell."
Shockshell. The name tasted oddly sweet on my mind's glossa. It was an unnerving thought that made me mentally slap myself.
The roar of the Shockshell's engine died away to a low rumble. He grumbled something in a threatening tone about running certain people over.
It was decided at that point that the four of us head out to one of the abandoned fields not far from Sarah's house – only a little ways up the road in the farmland part of Boscawen. Tony was out late at a bar and already said he'd be home later in the evening, so there was no rush for us to get out there. The two girls had decided that they wanted to see the both of us up in our bipedal forms because neither one of them had seen two Transformers in their main forms at the same time. There was a wide eyed awe in both of their eyes that I couldn't say no to, although I was surprised that Shockshell agreed to their terms at all. Nevertheless, moon was shining brilliantly underneath the clear late September sky when we finally found a field to stop in, although there wasn't anyone around for at least a mile to see us. Sarah rode with me − Meghan with Shockshell − when we entered the wide expanse of the meadow with our headlights out.
When both girls exited and moved some ways away, both Shockshell and I transformed at the same time. I stood just a little under fifteen feet tall with a small frame to further add to my sense of tiny frailness. The hood of my vehicular form folded against my back while my legs and arms pushed out from their hidden compartments from beneath my undercarriage. My driver and shotgun passenger side doors folded outward to form mock-Praxian door wings while my front grill created leverage for my protruding chest. I knew my face was a deep grey − darker than Shockshell's grey, at least − with a rounded shape and my optics were the color of the Earth's sky on a clear day. I wasn't an attractive mech per say, but I wasn't hideous either. I was told that I looked younger than I actually was too, which was an incredible disadvantage for me. Especially so since I was trying not to look like a pathetic sparkling in front of the Decepticon still transforming in front of me. When I hastily finished my transformation and staggered to my feet, Shockshell was still taking his sweet time and was only starting to elegantly stand upright. Unlike me, he was very much at ease. I had to resist shivering in terror when he stood straight up.
He was at least twenty feet tall and looked to me like I always envisioned Decepticons to be ─ a monster. It was my first time ever seeing a Decepticon up close and my sense of horror was amplified.
Shockshell was a deep gunmetal grey like his alternate-mode, but whereas he had been very smooth and almost benevolent looking, he looked something straight out of a nightmare now that I was looking at his true manifestation. Like many of the Decepticons I had seen in wanted posters back when I was still a cadet training at Iacon's Autobot War Academy, he was adorned from the top of his helm to the tips of his pedes with jagged points and sweeping spikes. He didn't have very many decorative aspects to his hide − he did have a Cybertronian tattoo consisting of ancient lettering that I couldn't decipher across his shoulder, but that was all − although that didn't take away from the fact how oddly… handsome he was. He had an angular grey face with high cheek plates and a narrow bear trap jaw that looked strong enough to snap a mech's neck in two. Unlike my somewhat blocky and stout frame, Shockshell was very slender and reminded me vaguely about the cats that Sarah complained about being allergic to. His transformation was very much like mine in the sense that his hood caved in against his back and his limbs protruded from the undercarriage of his Impala form, but his doors folded neatly against his back rather than form the trademark Praxian doorwings. His chest caved inward a little at an angle, and the way his knees were shaped indicated to me that they were capable of bending forward as well as back. That was a typical design for Decepticons, I knew. He had the legs of someone who was built to chase down unsuspecting victims – an indication that he was built either to be a scout or a tracker, and both of those classes were very dangerous indeed. I could see the curved blades of a flail whip jutting from behind his shoulder and ready to unsheathe at a moment's notice.
His optics were blood red. It was a frightening color. I couldn't suppress my shudder.
Shockshell threw his head back at an angle. His expression, optics gleaming malevolently as they met mine and mouth twisted into a cruel grin, matched his rough voice perfectly. Small fangs poked out of the corners of his thin mouth. He crossed his arms, and with another start of frightened apprehensiveness, I realized that the fingers of his hands were actually claws. "What's the mater, little Autobot? Never seen a real Decepticon up close before?"
Meghan said something to him warningly. I didn't hear her over the sound of my own spark whirling in my audios. It was pulsating with fear.
Shockshell looked away from me and glowered down at her. His expression changed so fast that I had to wonder whether or not he suffered whiplash. It was at that point that it became apparent to me that he was a very expressive mech. His optics were narrowed threateningly and his mouth was pursed in a scowl of irritated discontent. I was momentarily worried that the Decepticon was going to either step on the adolescent human girl or kick her. "It's not my fault if he's scared out of his wits."
"I'm not afraid of you," I said as strongly as I could, which unfortunately wasn't very strong at all. I could feel my azure optics flash with timid defensiveness.
He turned his head to look back at me. He was only slightly frowning. "Whatever you say, kid. Do you want an award?"
"And I'm not a kid, neither," I snapped back. My voice shook a little despite my best efforts.
Shockshell laughed brightly. His expression quickly changed again. He threw his head back with a throaty cackle of vicious spite. When he was finished, he looked back at me and pretended to wipe away a tear. He was just as expressive of a mech as he was cynically sarcastic, it seemed.
Somewhere off to the side, I saw Sarah lean over towards Meghan to whisper something in her ear. "Can we consider this meeting to be a good thing?"
Meghan looked at her and made a face. "You mean as in the start of a beautiful friendship like in all those cheesy movies? No."
I found myself agreeing with her. For the time being, at least."
iii
From the few times I saw him again, I learned that Shockshell was a mech with a constant petulance and an equally unpleasant attitude to emphasize it. From what I remember Meghan telling me once, Shockshell had come to Earth to serve as a scout for the Decepticon forces in the wake of Megatron's defeat during the Mission City battle. Unfortunately, being that he was the youngest − and also ripped off, having been given a civilian alternate form instead of a military orientated one − the other Decepticons mostly ignored him. No one from his unit had given a single care for him, and now they were all dead – killed – in the aftermath of the Egypt battle and the defeat of The Fallen. Barricade of all mechs was apparently the only 'Con who still gave a time of day for the gunmetal grey Chevy. As the other higher-ups didn't bother with him anymore, he claimed to be a free agent… and consequently do mostly nothing. From what Meghan also proclaimed, he spent most of his time sleeping in the driveway.
Although, there had been one occasion where he wasn't as harmless as Meghan said he was.
It was around December when Meghan told me about what happened to her and Shockshell in August – an incident that ultimately resulted in the deaths of two dozen bikers. Paul, Meghan's father, had invited her to go to the beach with him and some of his friends up in Maine. It was the first day that Meghan could legally drive outside of New Hampshire since she had gotten her license. They made it to Maine after two hours of traffic, where Shockshell spent his time sunning himself in a hotel parking lot while Meghan went swimming with her father, his boyfriend, and a few of their close friends. Meghan and Shockshell packed up and headed for home several hours later.
It had been less than a pleasant ride.
The GPS decided to malfunction on the way home, and Meghan managed to get herself effectively lost. After an hour or so of Shockshell trying to secure a decent internet connection to find the way home himself, they came upon a roundabout. They recognized it, but had no idea which exit to get off of. After several tries of going around aimlessly, they tried get off and get on again. The came onto the yield sign, saw no one was coming the opposite way, and moved forward. The bikers had been speeding when they rounded the corner and nearly crashed into Shockshell.
Meghan had been scared so badly that Shockshell had to take control and drive home the rest of the way. The Decepticon apparently trusted the girl enough to let her drive him on most occasions which surprised me a great deal, but the poor teen refused to even go as far as to touch the wheel after their close call. As soon as she broke down and started crying, he pulled off into the nearest ice cream stand and told her to get something. Meghan told me that she thought it was to get her to shut up at first. After the events that unfolded later that night though, she said that she knew for a fact that it was because he genuinely cared about her.
Shockshell was also a vindictive, vengeful bastard.
It was eleven o' clock at night when Shockshell backed out of the driveway at Meghan's Salisbury home and drove back up to Maine. He had memorized the bikes' license plate numbers, tracked down their owners online, found out their names, identified their social security numbers, traced credit card numbers, and located them at the Old Pines bar from their most recent purchase of drinks. One there, he located the first bike and ran knocked it over, causing all the bikes parked beside it to fall as well. He could have destroyed them very easily, although adolescent vandalism was not the primary focus of his plan. He only wanted to get their attention. They all came out, gawked at seeing their toppled motorcycles, and immediately went for him. Distracted by anger, none of them ever noticed that there was no one in the driver's seat of the dark grey Chevy Impala that they ended up chasing all the way down to Ernie's Disposal. It was a large junkyard that was located far away from the town adjourning it, which was exactly what the Decepticon wanted. He remotely hacked the electronic door and dodged in, leading the way as the dozen or so bikers followed. Once they were in, he remotely locked the door once more.
No one heard the screaming that ensued.
When he arrived the following morning, the owner of the dump was horrified to see the barely recognizable chunks of bloodied meat stern about the entire junkyard. Within half an hour, the entire inside of the compound was swarming with police officers while the media kept close on their heels confined to the outside. The only way to identify the human remains was through dental records, and even that was almost impossible because only two of the identified bodies were lucky enough not to have their skulls crushed in. It was a brutal attack which had its seriousness doubled when the FBI was finally called. From what Meghan knew, they were still investigating it. She found out about it when she watched the news on her laptop the same morning and immediately went out into the barn when she realized that the crime had occurred in the same place that she and Shockshell had been. The Decepticon, when she found him behind the barn, had been trying to clean the blood and matted hair off his chassis using the hose.
"It took us hours to get all that shit off him," Meghan said to me, tone frighteningly nonchalant. She was leaning against my hood looking through her purse for her iPod. Both Meghan and Sarah were avid writers and they stayed after school on Wednesdays for a writing club that was hosted of the their English teachers. Sarah parked in the high school parking lot while Meghan parked in the middle school one. Both schools were right across the asphalt from one another, but it was a considerably longer walk. Meghan would usually see Sarah and I off first before going to Shockshell once the club got out but Sarah, unfortunately, left her laptop inside the classroom for some unfathomable reason and only just remembered when she and Meghan reached me. Apologetically, she dashed back into the building to retrieve it. Left alone with Meghan, I had asked her about Shockshell and she told me theMaine horror story.
I shuddered on my tires, hoping the brunette girl would blame my shivering on the cold rather than my terror. "Primus…"
Meghan shrugged and smiled. "He didn't have to do it, but he still did. I mean, yeah, he is a snarky bastard. He's nasty, temperamental, foulmouthed, lazy, sarcastic… but that's not all there is to it. You can't judge a book by its cover. He's had his shining moments and he can show affection. I've seen it once already. It's only a matter of time before the occasion calls for him to show it again. Really, he's not the beastly type at all. You just have to give him a chance."
I didn't know affection was possible for a Decepticon. I gave me a lot to think about.
iv
The long New England winter ran its course and finally ended. I was very thankful that it had, granted some of the freak weather we had had. Ice storms, back-to-back nor'easters, monster blizzards… quite frankly, Hell would have been a preferred alternative. Although I didn't see Shockshell all that frequently during the freezing winter season, I had heard enough stories from both Sarah and Meghan how he very frequently managed to get himself stuck in snow banks. He also threw temper tantrums when he found that he could not get out of those same said snow banks. Spring came barreling around the corner and went too. Summer was eventually upon us and, of course, Tony got the camper back out from storage and set up for Sarah and Meghan to use during their sleepovers. As Sarah sheepishly explained to me on more than one occasion, her room wasn't an option for slumber parties. Not only was it not large enough, but it was also apparently a mess. Granted that Meghan had a strong dislike for disorganization and messiness in general, the camper was their only option for spending the night in one another's company. Unfortunately, granted that Meghan was also able to drive herself, it meant that Shockshell would also be staying the night.
That was how I found myself in his company in the garage.
The small structure had originally been a barn, but Tony converted it into a workshop and garage when he and his late wife bought the property. It also had enough room for two Transformers to sit in robot-mode inside, but at first we spent the start of the evening in vehicle-mode. It was quit and less awkward that way, but Shockshell had the attention span resembling one of Meghan's guinea pigs and couldn't stay in his alt for very long. The Decepticon got very finicky and eventually transformed with a snort, sitting against the far left wall in his bipedal form. Not wanting to be defenseless, I transformed as well. I had heard plenty of times from my superior officer, Silverwind, how treacherous 'Cons could be. Decepticons would wait for their victims to drop their guard before moving in for the kill… which sounded silly enough, considering how little room to move their actually was. We continued to sit in uneasy silence until, finally, the dark grey '06 Impala spoke up.
The grey 'Con leaned back against the wall, tossing his hands behind his head in a relaxed posture. For being on my turf, he seemed far too laid back. He raised an optical ridge at me and flashed his scarlet lenses. "So, what's the deal with you?"
I was already alert at attention and gauging his every move, but I hadn't been expecting the question. I fumbled and blinked stupidly. "Huh?"
Shockshell shrugged. Instead of being the sarcastic bastard I had come to know him as, he seemed oddly intent on making a conversation. "1990 Lumina. I thought you would have had a more up-to-date vehicle-mode instead of an older one."
"I was here on Earth when it came out," I said with a slight shrug, feeling less tense than before. It was hard not to let my guard drop just a little – especially the way he was acting. The Decepticon's poised demeanor was practically contagious.
He perked to attention at that, red eyes alit. He seemed legitimately interested to my immense surprise. "Really?"
"There were plenty of Autobots stationed here on Earth ever since Cybertron was destroyed," I said, "but it wasn't until we discovered that the Allspark was here that Optimus and his elites showed up."
"Were you with Sarah's family?"
"Yeah," I said. "I used to belong to her mother."
"Oh." Shockshell flinched. He must have known that Sarah's mother passed away earlier in the year ─ Meghan probably told him. His suddenly spooked expression was not one I would have associated with the dark grey 'Con before. His voice was quiet when he next spoke. "Do you remember the Praxus bombings back on Cybertron?"
Cybertron had been a planet of peace and harmony until the Council initiated the caste-system. Unfortunately, the mechs and femmes forced to scour for fuel and cannibalize their own friends from the lower-class castes were less than pleased with the Council's blatant disregard for life. A gladiator rose up, Megatronus, soon-to-be-Megatron, and organized the first ranks of the Decepticon faction. The Autobots had been organized by the Council to fight them and put the lower castes back in their place, but there were so many Cybertronians outraged by the caste-system that the Decepticons had huge support. It wasn't until after the loss of the Allspark and Cybertron's core being tainted by dark energon that the consequences of the Great War revealed themselves. Praxus – along with Vos − was a city that was bombed once the Great War really started to kick off. That had been almost four million Earth years ago. No one was ever quite sure which faction started the brutal exchange, but all that remained of Praxus now was the empty skeleton of the proud city it used to be.
He shrugged. "My mother was killed. My father and I had to leave her behind when the bombs started falling and I never saw her again. My father wasn't around much after that. He went into a depression before dumping me off with the Decepticon army and going missing. They found his body in a ravine on the outskirts of Praxus a little while later. Suicide. Shot himself in the head."
I flinched. "I'm sorry."
Shockshell scoffed. "Don't. Mortality rates are high amongst bondpairs who had their mates killed. It was bound to happen sooner or later."
"I didn't know Decepticons could have bondmates."
Shockshell laughed. It wasn't his usually snarky cackle that I had become so accustomed to, although there still remained a tone of derisiveness nevertheless. "I didn't know Autobots could have bondmates."
I couldn't find anything to say in return.
v
And somehow we ended up having an interface.
I can't tell you how it happened, let alone why. Without explanation or preamble, it just… did. Maybe it was our collective temperature heating the room beyond comfortable levels. Maybe it was because our magnetic fields were synchronizing without our knowing. Whatever the case was, I could suddenly feel my spike lazily pressurizing and valve squeezing suggestively underneath my interface hatch. It was a horrifying experience with the worst timing possible. Shockshell was sitting right next to me. I shuddered and tried to turn on my internal air conditioning to hide the whirl of my cooling fans, but it was when Shockshell looked at me that things just became worse. I felt my inner workings depolarizing with the random spout of arousal and there was no ignoring it. There was absolutely nothing I could do to resist.
Shockshell looked at me and raised an optical ridge. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"Nothing," I squeaked. I sounded pathetic.
Shockshell held me in his smoldering gaze disbelievingly, expression suddenly very thoughtful. My mind reeled fearfully under the sight of those scarlet optics, and my engine just about stalled when he moved closer to me on his hands and knees. Our gazes still bound together like permanently fused metals. He was blocking my path out of the garage and there was nothing I could do to escape… but at the same time, I didn't want to move. I didn't want to get away.
All of a sudden he was kneeling in front of me and our faces were inches apart. He put a clawed hand on my chest directly over my spark. It was the first time I ever came into bodily contact with Shockshell, let alone a Decepticon. Usually any kind of contact with a 'Con led to violence and death ─ that was what my mentor Silverwind always said ─ but it was apparent that that wasn't what Shockshell had in mind for me. His voice, for only a split second, was uncharacteristically light. "Lie back."
All I could do was stare. My spark whirled frantically in my chest.
Shockshell growled and swiftly shoved me against the wall. His talons scraped my armor dangerously and his other hand shot up to grasp my shoulder guard. The barn wall groaned warningly with the threat of giving way. I snapped out of my incessantly aroused state to glance fearfully over my shoulder. "Careful! It'll collapse─"
The hand over my spark was gone and clasping my chin with a swift motion, forcibly making me turn my head to look back at him. Shockshell's faceplates were twisted in a devious grin of uttermost malevolent glee. His expression was caught perfectly in the low light and it created a fanatically precarious look across his already handsome complexion. There was no denying that Shockshell was a dangerous mech, but the smoldering glow of his optics promised he wasn't going to hurt me.
Those scarlet optics told me that I was going to love what he had planned.
"Liar," the 'Con snarked. His sharp teeth smirked behind his lips components at me. The hand that had once been on my shoulder trailed up with mock innocence to the base of my door wing. Talented talons traced the metal gently, but still with enough force to threaten scratching the blue veneer as he trailed them along the broad side. He probed the doors with a delicate stroke. "Now then, what are we going to do with you?"
Warmth and tenseness seeped across my neural net, pooling between my legs and making my spark ache. I had to force myself to keep from letting my mouth pop open. I was being touched that way by someone other than my myself, and by a Decepticon no less. I knew that I probably should have been horrified but… I couldn't. I wanted it.
I wanted Shockshell.
The Decepticon's optics flashed as he rubbed the wing paneling back and forth, careful to create as little friction as possible. "Sensitive? It a shame I don't have the broadside style door wings like you. It would be easier for me to know where to touch and…" He suddenly gripped the edge of my wing with enough force to make the metal groan. There was an oddly playful tone to his teasing voice. "…please you."
I couldn't suppress the gasp that tore itself free from the pit of my throat. Heat exploded across my body and there was a light itch that arose within my spark. My spike was pushing against the prison of its housing almost painfully now, desperate to stand stiff in the cooler air. My valve was wracked with spasms. Primus, I had no idea my wings were so sensitive. "Shockshell…"
The grey 'Con sniggered, tone was delightfully virulent. With that, he began to tortuously pump his hand along my lower doorwing, treating it as though it were a fully aroused spike. "Mmhm. You're cute for a little Autobot. I like that."
Trying to keep my voice in check was useless, and I was positive that a hot blush had suffused my usually dark face with color. I whimpered quietly in several sundry tones, letting incoherent babble spill out of my mouth as I solicited shamelessly for more. "Ahh… aaaaahhhh. Oh Primus, ooh, keep… keep doing that."
Shockshell rumbled pleasantly. Tactfully, he maneuvered the hand he had grasping my chin down my neck to my shoulder. He trailed his talon like claws up to my other wing and began to tease its surface before syncing its movements with the other. In an instant, I was well on my way to cloud nine. I groaned and splayed back heavily against the wall behind me in indulgence. I didn't care if the silly thing came crashing down. All I wanted was the warm bliss to never end. A steady pulse was building between my legs, needy for stimulation. Without even thinking, I let a hand wander between my legs to stroke the codpiece while my other pressed flat on the ground for support.
My spark hitched and there was a tense buildup within the chamber. I gasped and my breath wavered. "So close…"
Shockshell snatched his hands away, catching my wandering hand by the wrist and giving it a warning squeeze.
I whimpered hotly, feeling the oncoming euphoria ebb away into nothingness. I blearily looked at him.
Despite the pressure of his grip on my offending hand, Shockshell was grinning mirthfully, and his tone when he spoke next was teasing with reproach. He leaned close to my audio, his hard voice like the purr of a brand new engine. "Nah-ah-ah. Not yet."
I whined like a sparkling. It turned into a harsh gasp that I scrupulously had to force down when Shockshell released my wrist and let both his hands trailed down my chassis, nibbling and teasing my throat with his razor teeth. Primus, he could have easily decided to rip my throat open if he wanted to, but I was so lost to my pleasure that all I could do was arch into his mouth. Meanwhile, his claws continued to descend while his claws raked delectably over my plating. The delicately crafted talons followed an imaginary road down to my loins where they probed mischievously around my inner thighs. I groaned and tried to arch my crotch into his touch, but he only pulled away from my advances. I whined loudly, offlining my optics and letting my head roll back – shuddering with unrestrained desire.
He laughed, pulling his mouth away from a sensitive cable beneath my audial. His voice had dropped a whole register below normal to a husky alto. I heard a swift click − it wasn't my access port, and I wasn't incoherent enough to not know it was his. One of the hands teasing a cluster of wires in my left thigh disappeared. "That's a good little Autobot. Now – mmph – just… whine like that for me again."
Primus, was he self servicing? Right in front of me? I didn't dare reactivate my optics, but I strained to hear him make some kind a pleased sound. He was awfully quiet for a Decepticon, I thought. From the heinous stories Silverwind told me about Decepticons who raped unsuspecting Autobot femmes in the darkened streets of Iacon just before the war really got rolling, I presumed that Shockshell would have been louder. Aside from his first initial grunt, the only change of sound I heard him make was his escalated intakes and the not-so-subtle kicking-in of his cooling fans. Not wanting to dissatisfy him, I made that sharp whine again.
He growled. It was a low, throaty snarl that resonated deep from inside his chassis, and it enveloped me like a suffocating veil that I didn't mind being trapped in. My port clicked very audibly − it automatically override itself and opened due to the extreme heat built up down there − and I heard Shockshell laugh, voice was slightly shaken and uneven. He wasn't going to admit it, but he was no better off than I was. "Oh, now this looks promising. What do we have here?" I could feel his breath on my audio receptor again. "Everything about you screams virgin. Did you know that, kid? Looks like a virgin, sounds like a virgin, smells like a virgin…"
He plunged one of his claws into my slicked valve.
I almost screamed from pain, but Shockshell forced his free hand over my mouth to silence me. I bit him in hazed confusion but he hardly seemed to care. Primus, he hurt so bad. It didn't last long thankfully. He started to lightly stroke the interior of my sensitive walls with the sharp edge of his fingertip and the pain started to ebb away into a small cascading river of warmth. I sighed dreamily and unclenched my jaw to sigh contentedly. Shockshell withdrew his free hand away from my face and laughed, cupping my jaw. "Feels like a virgin…"
He started to stroke much more slowly, but harder. A cable in my port pulsated as my walls clenched and sensor nodes crackled. I cried out and bucked. My spike freed itself from its housing against my will and twitched with need. "Aaahh!"
Shockshell cackled. I reactivated my optics to meet his gaze. His optics bloody and fiery all at once, glazed with undeniable lust, and he was leaning close to my face grinning from receptor to receptor. "Well, only one more test to prove."
He turned his head sharply and forcibly tilted my head up with the hand gripping my jaw. He kissed me.
Okay, so maybe I was a virgin, and maybe I'll admit that it was my first kiss. Either way, Shockshell was a dazzling kisser. His plunged into my mouth and worked its way over my dentals and past my glossa so he could explore every crevasse of my moist cavern. I was very disappointed that it wasn't my valve or spike he was treating with his mouth. It wasn't a romantic kiss, Pitt no, but it was a kiss nevertheless – intense just like he was. I was so stunned and humbled that I could only afford to squeak. I couldn't kiss back without embarrassing myself, because no matter what I could try to do, I would look like a fool compared to him. I deactivated my optics again, lost in the sensations of the biting fangs and teeth that clashed with my own.
He broke away and left me gasping for air. Shockshell laughed brightly. "Tastes like a virgin. Well, looks like I got myself a little fresh Autobot. I guess this is your lucky night Boomy, because you hooked up with the best of the best."
He leaned close to my audio receptor. His entire chest pressed up to mine and the wall behind us groaned with the threat of giving away. I couldn't see his face, but I didn't need to. Nibbling at the base of my audial, tracing around my grill with a claw distractedly, all that mattered was what he said to me next.
"Don't worry kid, I'll be gentle," he coaxed softly. "Just relax and enjoy this. Tell me to back the fuck off if I get too rough, all right?"
Silverwind once told me that Decepticons didn't care about the wellbeing of their uplinks. All they were supposed to care about was themselves… well, I realized right then that Silverwind was a bull slaggin' hypocrite. Shockshell cared. I quivered and leaned back in anticipation. "Take me. Oh Primus, please…"
He didn't hesitate. He pulled his finger free from my port, readjusted himself by straddling himself over me, and seized my hip between a taloned hand. He thrust his spike deep into my valve with one fluid motion and that was the end of it.
I nearly screamed from having my seal broken for the first time, but Shockshell had me in another brutal lip lock to silence me. Primus, I could feel every inch of him, stretching me further than I ever thought possible. I thought I heard Meghan and Sarah laughing about something in the trailer just beyond the garage, but that was the last coherent thing on my mind before Shockshell slowly eased out and pushed back in. His initial pace was slow, testing, but the euphoric bliss that shot up my loins and into my spark was the best feeling in the universe. Far better than self-servicing. My spark was writhing in its chamber and pulsing wantonly, and I moaned into Shockshell's mouth feeling the tingling beginnings of liquid fire building within the recesses of my trembling core. A coolant cable started to persistently pulsate within the wall of my valve from the sheer amount of cooling liquid trying to circulate, and my satisfaction increased tenfold. I would have cried out loudly if Shockshell hadn't deepened his kiss. He made a sharp growling noise, but as to whether or not this was from his own gratification was beyond me. His thrusts were quick, sharp, and firm. For my first time, I was absolutely loving it. Every push, every thrust, I could feel every part of his hot arousal filling me up and stretching me wide.
"Fu-fuck. Primus, you're so fucking tight…" Shockshell panted, voice audibly strained as he broke away from my mouth. He started to pick up the pace, increasing his speed and simultaneously tightening his grip on my hip. His other hand, previously forgotten on my shoulder, darted down to pump my spike securely.
"Aaaah!" My mouth fell open as I initially cried out, but the sound devolved into harsh static before I could moan. So good. So good…
Shockshell was thrusting and pumping in tandem to a skillful rhythm I could only envy. He'd obviously done this before, and by the Pitt, he was too slagging good. The Decepticon grunted and his vocalizer suddenly emitted a low, vibrating purr. I wasn't sure if he meant me to hear what he said, but I thought there wasn't anything sexier in the entire universe at that point that his voice. "Mmph, yeah. Oh yeah, that's perfect." He let out a little pant and sighed roughly, rocking his hips deeper.
I was determined to hear him make those noises again. I swiveled my hips experimentally to garner more from him, wrapping my legs around his waist and encasing his shoulders with my arms in delirium.
He inhaled air sharply through his vents, ducking his head into my shoulder and biting down hard. Marking me – telling everyone in the world that I was his. His teeth drew energon and his claws were digging into my hip with enough force to leave creases in the metal. I was disappointed that he didn't make another pleased noise like I was hoping he would, but the displeasure vanished instantly when he folded our electrical fields together. Suddenly Shockshell was everywhere, overwhelming every circuit in my body with crushing energy. The force of his presence was an indication of his sheer powress and I was loving ever goddamn klick of it. I responded by sending a pulse of electricity from my interface port into his own, clenching around him and milking his length.
And he finally did moan. It was drawn out, trembling with effort and vibrating against my throat tubes. I could see the glow of his crimson optics flaring in the low light – his mouth parting against the junction between my neck and shoulder. A tremor forced itself down his back strut. "Yeeessss…"
I was entirely lost in the stormy sea that had become his ministrations against me. Without control over my own body, I finally lost myself and began to move in tandem with him. He voiced no discontent for my actions, letting our hips meet with sharp clangs of metal against metal. If we were making too much noise now, I honestly didn't give a frag. He moved the hand he had clasping my hip so that it completely covered the entire Autobot insignia with the palm of his hand. For an instant, we were no longer Autobot and Decepticon. I didn't know what we were per say, but it wasn't those two things. And I didn't care. I didn't care. There was pressure building deep inside of me, coiling tighter and tighter…
His angled his head to lightly nibble across my jaw, mincing against me even faster. The steady rhythm was gone – replaced by something much more primal and feral. His hand was pumping me erratically, no longer coordinated, tightening and loosening his grip at random intervals that made my spark do flips in its over sensitized chamber. It didn't take me long to reach overload at the rate the 'Con was going. The buildup of electricity between my legs reached its limit to the point of no return, compressing into a spring itching to burst at any moment, but Shockshell ministrations suddenly seemed to slow down. I was momentarily horrified thinking that he would leave me at my peak and abort − from what Silverwind told me, Decepticons were cruel enough to do that − but he didn't. Shockshell slowed down only moderately, almost teasingly, before he thrust hard, squeezing my arousal with a jerk and flaring energy into my port. My voice failed me. The pressing coil in my belly snapped, pitching me over the edge so violently I thought I was going to die. It felt as though I was coming apart – that my spark was going to explode inside my chest and leave me dead. My spike ejaculated hot transfluid into Shockshell's waiting hand and my valve trembled around his throbbing spike.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck…" Shockshell panted, his voice raising an octave with each breath. Despite the vulgarity of his favorite Earth curse, it was sex for my static filled audios. He was breathing that word over and over again in my audial as though it were a chant, grabbing my shoulders and pushing until he finally came undone above me. He growled in a tight voice that raised half a resister above his normal tone, filling me to the brim with his warm essence. His mouth fell open against my armor in a silent moan, his shoulders shook…
Through the euphoria, I could feel his spark hitch and whir in sync with mine. That frightened me partially, mostly because only bondmates were supposed to have synced sparks. He was a Decepticon. I was an Autobot. We couldn't have been bondmates.
I wasn't sure when it ended, but then I felt a gentle caress against my face and I forced my blurred vision to clear. Shockshell's engine purred contentedly while he nuzzled the side of my neck, his usually rigid body lax while he leaned against my own. With dazed intakes, he vented hot air onto my abused throat cables. The moment was ineffable, jubilant, eloquent. I loved every Primus damned moment of it and I wasn't ashamed.
Shockshell pulled away and looked at me, his optics sharp and aware. I could only imagine that my aqua ones were still glazed and unfocused. The Decepticon smirked at me and revved his engine in a deliciously deviant purr. The expression on his perfectly angled face was lurid, and his post-overload scent was incense to my olfactory sensors – like hot oil and burning copper. "Congratulations, Boomy. You just lost your virginity to a Decepticon…" his smirk turned into a fiendish grin. "Hope you enjoyed the ride."
I couldn't stay awake. I felt my optics slip offline and I slumped forward in forced recharge. The last thing I could coherently remember was Shockshell suddenly, and inexplicitly, wrapping his thinly toned arms around my shoulders so that I was securely hugged to his chest. When I woke up sometime later, I was surprised to see that he was still there. From what Silverwind also told me, 'Cons usually didn't stick around after one night stands. That wasn't the case for my Decepticon, though. I found myself sprawled out on his lap ─ cleaned and closed up with care ─ and I looked up somewhat blearily to see him leaning against the side of the barn's darkened interior in recharge. His chest rose and fell with deep intakes and a clawed hand twitched on my left door wing a taut hold. I didn't feel inclined to move until the next morning. Until then, I slept very soundly and without interruption.
vi
The next time I woke up, Shockshell was gone and I was sleeping on my side in the garage. Sarah came by later to let me know that Shockshell and Meghan had left, and that it was five in the afternoon. She asked me what we were doing last night to make me so exhausted and I smartly had to tell her that we were arguing. She seemed to buy it. She also never appeared to notice the slight creases against my doors.
Over the course of that summer, Shockshell and I became as close of friends as Meghan and Sarah – closer if you included the interfacing. In spite of my initial impression of the Decepticon, Shockshell was actually a very charming mech. He was lazy, he was foul mouthed, but he had a certain charisma that added to his dark appeal. He was witty, smart, handsome… even when Meghan and Sarah weren't hanging out, we still made an effort to see each other whenever we could. Sometimes we stayed in the field behind Meghan's farmhouse all night and just talked. Sometimes we went out for late drives up Route 93, playfully racing each other for kicks. A 'face or two was usually involved as well, but it was consensual every time it happened. I wanted him as much as he wanted me. The mere thought of being with a Decepticon would have disguised me less than a year ago, but now I couldn't imagine anything less than what Shockshell had to offer. And no matter how much my 'Con tried to play it off, there was a gentler side to him. I saw it every time he was with Meghan, and I saw it again every time he held me in his arms. It was amazing how such dangerous talons could bring comfort instead of pain − how those bloody optics could look at someone like me with smirking happiness instead of hatred…
Primus, I was falling head over heels for him, and I was falling hard. He might have been falling for me too, if I had to guess. I just hoped no one from the outside would notice.
Silverwind, unfortunately, did.
The white Subaru Outback actually belonged to Meghan's mother, Monique, and he only came into my life just after I met Shockshell for the first time. As a sort of mentor figure, he was the one who put all those horror stories about Decepticons in my head – all of which I now profusely disbelieved, for the record. When word of Shockshell's apparent residence in New Hampshire under the "ownership" of a teenage human reached Ironhide of Optimus Prime's main elite, the weapons specialist had his old time friend come in from patrolling in the District of Columbia to step in an keep an eye on the new Decepticon. According to the Obama administration, NEST was only allowed to intervene with Decepticons who were immediate threats to the public, and since Shockshell did not fit underneath that particular category, that was why Silverwind was called in. Strong, smart, and vicious right down to every last cog and wire, he was practically second in regards to temperament and overall hatred for Decepticons. During the meeting where Ironhide himself came up to address the situation about Silverwind's relocation, he boasted in the place of his friend how Silverwind had managed to kill three Decepticons at once when he lured them into an abandoned underground freeway and used a remote detonator to crush them dead. That bothered me immensely.
Unfortunately – or very fortunately, from my perspective – "Optimus doesn't want the 'Con killed unless there's probable reason," Ironhide said. This apparent "reasoning" was that the Decepticon, Shockshell, hadn't caused any actual trouble and appeared to be much more of a neutral than a typical fiend. This irritated Ironhide for the reason that he personally loathed Decepticons no matter how harmless they were, and so it was compromised that Silverwind be put to the task of merely watching Shockshell instead. Silverwind was strong, smart, vicious down to every last cog and wire, and also more than capable of keeping an optical sensor on the Decepticon. He killed three by crushing them under tons of rubble from a freeway, after all. He was more than capable of dealing with one.
That was what they all thought, at least. Shockshell was obviously much more tricky and much, much more infuriating to deal with than those unfortunate three, however.
When Monique went to pick up her new Subaru, Silverwind snuck into the dealership and took the place of the insentient white Outback that was originally supposed to go to them. From the first night Silverwind and Shockshell shared the same driveway that fateful November, Shockshell made it his personal business to grate on the Autobot's nerves as horribly as he could. The Decepticon hated having a babysitter as it was, but my snarky Decepticon seemed to make it a game to annoy Silverwind as much as possible. Silverwind originally tried to tolerate the childish Chevy to the best of his powers − this was something he disclosed to me when I met him for the first time, when he personally came one night to speak to me about his relocation and the fact that he wanted to take me underneath his wing − but patience was definitely not one of the Outback's strong points. By Christmas, both Shockshell and Silverwind utterly loathed one another. Many times Silverwind personally tried to file reports with Optimus about taking Shockshell out − that he posed a threat because of his closeness to Meghan − but the Prime declined each and every time. That irritated Silverwind immeasurably. Infuriated him.
Mere irritation and infuriation, however, were not words that I could use to describe his reaction at the sight of grey paint caked on my chassis.
It was misting outside and very cool for being late summer. The forecast was predicting a thunderstorm to roll in that night though, latering the air with a crushing humidity. I was meeting with Silverwind in the deep woods behind Sarah's house to give him my weekly report, and that was when his optics caught sight of Shockshell's grey paint chipped against my Autobot insignia. He knew that Shockshell and were "close" per say, but up until then, he presumed it was my way of keeping tabs on him. That would have been my duty as an Autobot after all, but now he knew better once he saw Shockshell's chipped paint. He didn't say anything right away, but I knew he had noticed. Primus, how could I have been so stupid as to buff myself out? I prayed he wouldn't make a huge deal out of it, but when he noticed the creases in my doorwings and slight dents in my hip plating, he immediately sprung on me. What else was I supposed to tell him? I couldn't lie, and I was a bad enough liar as it was.
Silverwind looked at me, momentarily perplexed. Suddenly, all at once, his face twisted and he was instantaneously enraged. "He what?"
I winced back from the older Autobot. "I… I was willing, Silver. It was fine. We've been together for over three months and−"
The Subaru Outback turned and roared angrily, swiping at the nearest pine tree with a thick clubbed hand. The thick branch came tumbling down with a heavy crash. Splinters of wood and bark went flying and one clipped against the side of my leg. I winced and stepped back nervously.
He turned to look at me, icy optics ablaze with a hidden fire. "He's been using you, Sonicboom. You've been tricked into being willing." His bitter voice kept rising and rising in volume until he was nearly shouting. "Decepticons are deceptive, you stupid sparkling. It's in their namesake just as much as it's in their piping. It's a miracle that he hasn't torn out your spark or shoot you dead after your little sessions were over and done with. You could have been killed. Pitt, he will kill you."
I tried to muster up my courage and my words, but I couldn't.
Silverwind turned away and threw his hands into the air. His furious exasperation radiated off his form like heat from an overworked, industrial sized furnace. "Go home, Sonic. He won't be bothering you again."
"Silver, please…"
He said nothing more. With that, he transformed into vehicle-mode and sped off into the woods. Calling after him didn't garner a response.
I hoped with a renowned desperation that Shockshell would be all right. He can defend himself, I thought hopefully. I was immediately comforted by that train of thought. Yes, Shockshell could take care of himself. He could crush a mech's neck in his mouth and kill with just a calculated swipe of his talons. Decepticons were programmed – built − to survive because there wasn't anyone they could ever necessarily trust. Silverwind wouldn't have been able to touch him without getting his own aft handed to him. Shockshell would be fine. Shockshell would be fine.
I was stupid and naive.
vii
It was raining when I got home. I quickly drove into the garage and I just barely managed to shut the door before Tony and Sarah drove into the driveway coming back from the movies. The rain seemed to stop around eight that night, but then it intensified harshly instead of stopping like I had hoped. Lightning flashed in the sky every so often with the force of the thunderstorm, but the gap between the flares and steady rumbles became less and less far between. Holed up in the garage, the only thing that I could accurately focus on was the sound of my own intakes and Shockshell's image flittering against the filthy barn windows. Lightning would flash and I would see a flash of his smile. Thunder would echo and I would hear his engine gun and roar. Wind would whip against the doors and I would hear his shuddering armor from our collective passion. Rain whipped across the roof of the garage, and all I could hear was his rasped whispers against my audio. The moisture dripping from the loose boards over my head were the tips of his claws lightly tapping against my armor and dragging down my sides. It was hopeless trying to get my mind off the Decepticon whose presence wouldn't leave me. Turning on the radio made it worse.
"Touching me with the kiss of a beast…"
I snapped it off, too terrified to turn it back on. Outside, there was a low grumbling. I presumed it was the start of a monstrous thunderclap − I had been counting the time lag between the flashes and thunder, and I was expecting the eye of the storm to be overhead shortly − but the roar never came. Just that slow, faintly deliberate crackling.
It was the sound of tires as a car pulled into the driveway.
The faint glow of headlights shone through the garage window and I immediately snapped to attention. Through the cobwebs and dust clouding the garage windows, I could see the outline of the Chevrolet Impala I'd come to fall in love with. I knew Shockshell mentioned coming up to see me early in the morning, but a quick glance at my internal clock revealed it was only a little bit before midnight. Too early. Something… something was wrong. I forced the garage door open and peered out through the downpour without a flicker of hesitation, and what I saw horrified me.
Shockshell's entire left side was smashed in like he had been t-boned by a fright train, and both passenger door windows on the offended side were shattered. His right headlight was smashed with the light dully flickering every few seconds while the side of his front bumper bounced on its loose hinges haphazardly. One of his axels must have been busted too, because he seemed to wobble on that the left tire up front. His front tires were brand new in stark comparison to his rear ones though, which were both shredded with the torn rubber flapping loosely. His hide was smeared with mud and, to my horror, there was white paint caked on the severely dented and crushed door flanks.
Silverwind. The name burned my glossa and made me want to purge my fuel tank.
Without even thinking, I ducked out of the garage and rushed to him, stopping short of reaching him as terror gripped my spark. He looked even worse up close. Another burst of thunder over my head kept my footfalls from being heard over the blast. A white flash followed and I could see the streak of lightning as it whipped across the sky. Shockshell must have seen me too, because he shifted to robot-mode at my approach. How he could see me past the pain he had to have been in – how he was able even to find the strength to come here – I had could only fathom. The sharp shrieking of metal against metal made my audio sensors reel with discomfort from the terribly unnatural sound. In the low light, Shockshell stood half hunched, favoring his left leg, before staggering forward and falling on his side in a motionless heap. He did not look at me.
In all my life, I had never cared so deeply for another Cybertronian other than myself. Now I found that there was no way I could not care. I ran out of the garage uncaring as to whether or not my commotion woke up Sarah and her father. The dogs were barking inside the house ravenously, but I didn't care. The rain was freezing, but I still didn't care.
Shockshell was hurt. I cared.
I jogged over to him, entirely unmindful of the noise I made, and I knelt at his side with my hands held suspended over his body. I didn't want to accidentally hurt him anymore than Silver already had. Tentatively, I spoke to him. "Shockshell…?"
"Silver… don't… tell Meghan," he muttered quietly. That was all he said. From what I knew, Meghan was gone with her father to someplace over the weekend for a family reunion in Maine. Just thinking about Maine reminded me about what he had done to those bikers a little more than a year ago, and I had to suppress a shudder. My 'Con's voice was rougher than usual, hoarse even, from what I could only assume was from his shrieks of pain as Silverwind mobbed him. I looked at his shoulder plating and realized his flails were still there, completely untouched. Primus… he didn't even bother to defend himself. Unrelenting fury burned deep inside my core and threatened to rise to the surface of my being with a scream. How dare he. How dare Silverwind hurt him like he had.
I knelt lower and spoke softly. "Can you stand?"
Shockshell didn't answer, but he did hear me. Slowly, painstakingly, he tried to use his forearms to push off the ground into a crouching position. Something in his shoulder popped and gave way. With a light pipe of pain, he collapsed back to the ground. A spray of water and mud followed his collapse.
I looked up and glanced around. No one was in sight. The sound of mine and Shockshell's commotion had not risen over the sound of the storm. Good. I looked down at Shockshell again. "I'm going to get you out of the rain. Does anything hurt?"
He shook his head, still not caring to meet my eyes. He looked distorted ─ definitely lying. I bit my lower lip uncertainly, then hooked my hands underneath his arms.
Shockshell gave a sharp yelp of pain, energy signature spiking agonizingly. I cursed at myself, apologized, and did my best to drag him back into the garage. As soon as I and Shockshell were in, Tony's workstation and table saw went out. I would find an explanation to toss at Sarah later, but right now I had more important things to worry about. I hastened to close the hatch and turned to look at Shockshell.
He was a mess. Lying in a crumpled heap on the floor and totally unmoving, he looked like he was dead. I was afraid he was suffering from internal bleeding and maybe was dying, but he managed to attempt sitting up a moment later. He looked mostly comatose, breathing slowly in little labored vents, and he still refused to meet my gaze. Slowly, hesitantly, I moved closer to him. I knelt and looked him over. "What─?"
"Silverwind," he said quietly. When I tried to press him for more, he didn't respond. Whether that was because he didn't want or couldn't was beyond my comprehension.
My body moved automatically and without my actual comprehension of its movements. I took his upper torso gently up into my arms and cradled his head in my lap while I leaned against the barn's back wall. The same wall that he made love to me against for the first time. He voiced absolutely no complaint, but his engine revved almost pathetically. Seeing him as weak as he was made me want to scream. I was so used to be being so strong for the both of us. Having those roles switched, leaving me as the stronger one, was a shock to my systems. I found myself stroking the contours of his sharp face without even realizing. "Just hang in there. I'll… I'll call someone to come fix you up. Just hang in there. Just─"
The Decepticon snorted to promptly interrupt my tousled ramblings. He was looking at the garage doors… anywhere but me. "My injuries are not life threatening. My…" he winced, breath hitching sorely, then resumed. "My self repair systems will take care of most of the damage. I just need to re… charge."
"Then why did you come?" I couldn't help but ask.
He didn't answer me right away. At first I thought it was because he had succumbed to his injuries and fallen offline, but then his tantalizingly rough voice pierced the darkness of the garage. It rose over the sound of the heavy downpour outside, intoxicating like noble caste high-grade. "Because… because I wanted you to make sure Silverwind wouldn't come back for a second round."
That's not what he meant. I knew him too well to know that. What he really meant to say was, "Because I wanted you."
I kissed him.
My kiss with Shockshell back when we first uplinked was rough and brutal, as had all of our others been, but not this one. No, this kiss to him had a new meaning behind it − love. Deliverance. I took his angular jaw gently between my fingers and made him look at me, sweeping in slowly to touch my lip components to his own in an offering of comfort. Shockshell didn't react in the slightest, but this was rather out of shock than distrust or unwillingness. As infamous as he nominally claimed to be as a lover, he was obviously highly inundated having been offered such a gentle caress. He was only used to roughness and violence – he'd never been truly loved before, and it would have been no surprise if I was overwhelming him greatly.
I pulled away. His usually mean scarlet optics were dulled to nothing but a rosy glow. He was finally looking at me for the first time that night and his expression was miserable. When he next spoke, his angular mouth barely moved and his voice was a rasped whisper. "Would… would you…?"
I kissed him again. He opened his mouth willingly and I drove my glossa past his sharp denta without hesitation − offering him my total trust. He moaned lightly in submissiveness, diffidently reaching up to touch the back of my helm with his doubtful talons. His other hand reach up to clasp one of my own, and I relinquished my grip on his jaw to smooth my palm down his helm comfortingly. He was blatantly unsure of how to kiss me back − unsure how to appropriately respond to my tender offering when all he previously knew was fierceness. Instead of biting and gnashing his teeth against mine like I had become accustomed to, he was cautiously temperate. He would have to learn, I guess. We had all the time in the universe so long as we were together.
I thought back to that conversation Meghan and I had in December, and I realized she was right. Shockshell really wasn't a beast at all ─ just a beauty.
We stayed together in the darkness listening to the rain for a very long time.
Fin