Scars

AN: Takes place after Out of His Head and before the end of Season 1. A small hint of coupling and a tad bit of AU going on here. Sorry if it doesn't make any sense...This is the contest for Kangarooney.

Enjoy

"...and Miko got scolded by our math teacher and she ended up getting a detention." I looked down at my young charge, listening eagerly from his day of school. According the story-looks like Bulkhead's coming home late, not that I really have to worry much about him since there's barely any Decepticon activity going on lately.

I paused for a while, letting my hidden mouth drop in despair. I know the reason why there's barely any Decepticon activity going on lately, let alone the good reason behind it.

I was the one who had awaken Megatron from his comatose. I was the reason Decepticon still lives because of me.

I jerked when I heard my charge calling my name, concern filling his voice. I smiled at him, trying to reassure that I am alright and well-he didn't seem to buy it but he let it go as he went back to his laptop, working on his project that was due next week. I breathed out a small sigh, knowing that he won't bother me with questions for a while and watched him work.

I listened to his clicking keys to roaring engine from Arcee as she took Jack out to drive to Ratchet's tools tinkering from his servos. I listened to the low hum of computers, nearly vibrating through the air as it touched my sensors.

My thoughts began to wonder, from Raf's day to the Earth to...my old days in Cybertron.

My optics starts to cloud, as I thought back of my day at the field-where I had battled with my comrades before joining in with Optimus's group. It was a sweet memory...but it was cold and heart-breaking at the same time. We were so close, and yet the war had broken us apart-leaving me all alone to mourn.

subconsciously-I touched to my mask, where my mouth was guarded. It served its purpose by guarding it-but it served it's purpose by hiding my only ugly truth from the world.

The world from where Megatron had left his mark on me.

It seemed like fate, maybe more of a curse since he and I kept on bumping to each other in the field-A match made from hell, people would say and I can't help but agree to that sadistic fact. It's really a truth rather than a statement-I chuckled coldly to that.

I looked down at my charge, who was napping right now and I found this opportunity to talk with Ratchet about my check-up today. I know I should worry about my charge for sleeping in the cold base, but he's a big kid, he can take care of himself just this once.

"Ratchet." I buzzed at the medic, averting his attention away from his tools, "About my check-up..."

"Oh-yes, yes." Ratchet replied hastily as he gestured at the med-berth for me to sit down, "Sit over there please."

I did as he was told and waited for him to get the necessary tools for my voice...and my scar.

Once Ratchet had gotten the necessary things-he went to work. I felt his slick tips of his servos touching to my throat, tickling to the surface as he checked it over. I held my laugh as his fingers touched to my weak spot, and let myself relax as he traced the scar on my neck carefully to see if they're healing alright.

Then he took the plates apart-to see the inside of my throat easily to see how my voice box been and I tensed as he started to touch it, looking to see if it is functioning alright.

'It's Ratchet who's doing this...' I thought to myself as I squeezed my optics tightly and clenching my servos into fists 'Not that tyrant...It's Ratchet.'

Ratchet seemed to have sensed my discomfort because he stated he was done checking my voice box and placed the plates back to my throat-covering that scar from plain view. I felt myself relax after that, but the ghost touches of that tyrant's claw still clings to my throat-chocking me endlessly. It was teasing me-how I had failed to save my comrades long ago.

"Take off your mask." I blinked back to reality when Ratchet ordered me-only softly for he knew how terrified I am to show my scar to anyone else. I nodded my helm hesitantly, checking to see my charge still in recharge-which was a relief since I don't want him to be scared if he sees my face and with shaking servos, I pressed the button.

The mask whooshed down, finding itself going under my chin and laid its rest close to my throat. I took a deep shaky breath, and took a small peek past Ratchet's shoulder to see the mirror of my true face.

My mouth was unnoticeable, with two zig-zags like scar stretching through my lower cheek-stiches only thing holding those scars together so it won't fall off. Others, were claw marks scratching down to my lips to the bottom of my chin. The scars were huge, and ugly that I had no choice but to hide it.

The scars that Megatron had left behind for me to remember.

Ratchet took my servo gently, reassuringly that he's there for me-but it wasn't working, not when these ugly truth were planted right on my face like they were destined to be mine.

I quickly shut my ugly scar from Ratchet-placing the mask on before he could check on it and I looked away in shame, knowing that I had failed to keep it open long enough for Ratchet to check it over. But Ratchet didn't seemed to care-he just held my servo softly, understanding of my pain.

He doesn't really understand, I couldn't blame for him for not, but I just couldn't bring myself to bring myself up for it. I had enough pain to bare this scar.

But that pain grew when I knew, I had failed my fellow Autobots by bringing him back online.

I should've fought harder-pushing him back further in my mind so he's nothing but a bad conscious-but it really happened and I can't just accept it. I just can't and wouldn't.

Optimus said that he doesn't blame me for not stopping Megatron to bring his body back-but I doubt it. I can hear some few disappointment from him, and it scares me if he's going to get tired of me for messing some few things up.

I'm not a real good fighter, never a good shot, nor will I ever shut up when I have to. I never asked for any of this and wondered if Primus was just sick to his head to think we were destined to be together.

I thanked Ratchet for the check-up, and hastily left the Rec. Room back to my own personal room to be alone. I felt somewhat sick to do anything else right now-might as well had to apologize Raf that I couldn't bring him home today.

I looked down at my servos-feeling somewhat foreign about my body. I don't know what Megatron did to my body while I was out but I felt the void of uneasiness coursing through my spark. I never told Ratchet this because I don't want to have him worried over for nothing like this.

I even felt useless when I don't know what's wrong with me-forcing me to cope on few work to forget this unfortunate void that Megatron left. I couldn't bring myself to guess that I'm missing him-that's calling a suicide but then again, I can kill myself if I'm going to say that.

But Megatron still lives-and I'm sure that he's going to give me more scars to bare as a thank you. I shivered as I hugged myself, not wanting to have more of those ugly marks on me.

I looked at the mirror I had in my room-seeing the mask that I have, covering my ugly scar. The ugly truth.

I hesitantly turned my mask off again, forcing me to see the horrifying, true me staring back at me. The scars still there, lingering around me, reminding me of who had given me this.

Whom, I unfortunately belong to.

Ratchet doesn't know this, Optimus doesn't know this, even Bulkhead, Arcee and my human friends doesn't know this either. I couldn't bring myself to tell them what Megatron did to me, afraid that they might kick me out because of it.

I felt myself sob, feeling the stream of tears going down my faceplate. Hopelessness was the only company in my spark as well as despair as I curled myself in the corner of my room-trying to keep the harsh reality away from me.

And those scars that will forever haunt me to death.

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