My optics were offline. There was a heavy weight around my neck. Many voices were shouting, incomprehensibly loud to me. He was smiling, letting out a small laugh at my joke. The weight around my neck moved, dragging me up from my kneeling position. His hand pulled mine, gently tugging me along.

A voice, deeper and closer than the others growled in my audio. What was the mech saying? I couldn't tell anymore. He called out my name, and I turned to greet him. The voice barked out something, so I onlined my optics, causing my visor to light up.

I stared up at the mech, and his lip plates curled in a twisted rendition of a grin. His red optics were alight with greed as he dragged me to another mech, one more familiar. The other mech's red visor and face mask made him nearly impossible to read. I was crying, clutching him close to my chest plates, his energon was getting everywhere and I didn't know what to do. Oh Primus please Ratchet where are you he's dying.

The new mech took the end of a chain, the one attached to the collar around my neck, and handed the first mech a credit stick. The first mech said something to the new mech, sounding pleased. I felt my spark break as he faded in my arms, before a set of servos grabbed a hold of my arms and dragged me away from him, my screams echoing through the air.

I was tugged forward, infinitely gentler than the harsh tugging from before. I followed meekly behind the new mech, my… owner. We entered into a new building, where he had me sit down in a luxurious chair. He moved into another room, soon returning with a cube of energon. It was pushed into my servos, and I stared blankly at it. My intake was dry, my fuel tanks empty. The guard watched my faceplates as he took long, gleeful gulps of energon, optics full of sick delight at my trembling, starving form.

My owner sighed, taking the cube from me. He carefully moved it so that a corner rested gently against my lax lip plates. He tipped it so that its contents poured into my mouth, massaging my neck cables to force me to swallow. I didn't fight back, there was no point. I screamed as one of the guard's servos pinned both of my own and his other trailed along my chest plates, searching for the emergency release. I sobbed as I felt him hit the release, my chest plates sliding open and baring my spark. His laughter echoed in my ear as he moved to press his chest plates to mine.

My owner placed the empty cube on a table beside us. His servos moved up to my neck and gently removed the collar, placing it next to the cube. My helm sagged forward now that the collar was no longer forcing it to stay upright. He used a single digit to tilt my head up, placed right under my chin. Being visor to visor, I could almost feel his optics hidden under beneath the ruby visor stare into my own deep sapphire one, so different from the once cheery sky blue. I lay twitching on the ground, my pride and sense of worth were shattered. But I did not, could not, care. I was numb.

My processors were tingling. So my owner was looking into my thoughts. Doesn't matter, there's not much there for him to see. I felt dead inside, a broken doll, and I wished that the mech that had dragged me away from him had shot me instead. Even though a killer like me would have ended up in the Pit, it could not have been any worse a fate. Eternal torment for my crimes would have been preferable to living without life.

My processor was burning now. It hurt, but for some reason I began feeling better. What was it that I was thing about? Oh right, my lover. What was his name again? What did he look like? I can't remember. What was I trying to remember? I don't know anymore.

It was dark. Wait, my optics aren't online, that's why. I onlined my optics, and took in my surroundings. I was laying on a berth in the middle of a large room that was lavishly decorated. A large purple symbol was painted on the far wall, one I felt I should know. I frowned as I tried to remember where I was.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by the door opening to admit a large blue and white mech with a red visor and facemask. The same purple symbol as the one on the wall was on his chest plates. He came closer and sat on the chair next to the berth.

"Query: How are you feeling?"

"I don't know. Who are you?"

"Designation: Soundwave. Relation: Owner."

"Oh."

"Query: What is troubling you?"

"Who am I?"