Megatron, in this story, is not at all the one that I used for EOBN. I decided to use IDW's All Hail Megatron Incarnation instead to have some fun with it. I realise that this creates issues as far as continuities with Endings of Old and Beginnings New, but I wanted to have some fun *shrug*.
This beginning, though, does start with him breaking out of the Hoover Dam and nabbing the Allspark (Bayverse Elements) and then continues along through some of All Hail Megatron. If you have not read the comic, though, this story does not require that.
Alternate Beginning - Part One
Motion almost hurt. After being frozen for so long, joints, circuitry, and cables immobile, the feeling was almost foreign. His processor could control his frame once again, and with this ability he would take his revenge.
The Earth was ripe for his picking. He knew it was so, for it was the nature of humanity to be inferior.
His troops needed this romp after the all-but-assured victory over the Autobots. As he had discussed with Starscream on the trip from his wretched prison to this nest of fleshlings, the point was not that they could have annihilated the humans from space without getting their servos dirty. It was so that they could celebrate, bask in their victory by conquering a species meant to serve them, by annihilating an enemy that stood no chance.
More, he desired this as the perfect start to his Empire. Earth was energy-rich with an abundant supply of slaves - what better seat of power could suit him? Cybertron was gone, therefore they had to move forward.
However, there was the matter of earning his revenge. He wanted to inflict suffering with his servos, watch a formerly untouchable human leader fall apart under the crushing power of his fist. How slowly could he tear it limb from organic limb? How long until they could offer no more human Energon? How long could he keep it begging for death?
All of the humans' leaders would have to go anyway in order to sufficiently crush their spirits, to convince the stupid creatures that they were now property of the Decepticons and that Earth was theirs. The natural start would be… the American President. Squishies, as his mech called them, never lived lives longer than the shutter of an optic. Which did the United States have now?
As pathetic and simple the human "internet" was, Megatron's answer was waiting for him and it was not what he expected in the slightest. Eleanor Sherman, current President, with astonishingly familiar grey optics.
Circuitsia had that same shade, a fact that made his spark stutter in disbelief. His thirst for her reawakened, he scoured for footage of her speaking. Primus, how that sweet little voice called to him. So distant yet so similar. Could it be his Circuitsia reincarnated, just as she had promised she would be?
The thought of seeing her fragile frame unravel in his servos, watching her die in the palms that were tasked with guarding her in a mate's duty, made his tanks churn. The idea, which nanokliks ago was incredibly appealing, became unthinkable.
She was in serious danger, and his spark erased the stiffness of his joints in subconscious preparation for swift action. His mechs were ready to wreak havoc on her "Nation's Capital," and his sweetling's nest was right in the middle. Circuitsia could not be taken from him again.
She would be guarded by other humans, but none could keep her from him or any mech he sent. Even the smallest of the Allspark's creations could not be defeated by a human's simple handheld blaster. However, he could not leave to claim her. His disappearance at the start of the battle would be taken advantage of by certain… traitorous Seekers.
Ah. Thundercracker was unlikely to harm her. Skywarp would have been preferable for his speed in fetching his mate, but gentleness was not his forte. He did not want to have her injured or killed accidentally with warping either.
Like Pit he was going to trust Starscream. Thundercracker it was.
Firing one last blast at some passing jets, the warlord commed the blue Seeker and sent his orders. Soon his mate would be his once again, and for a glorious instant he shuttered his optics with bliss as fire surged around him.
When she had been alerted of the massive robots attacking New York City, fear had not been a thought. President Sherman had had no reason to worry that her military would not end the threat that they posed. It was surprising to her, obviously, that these odd beings had shown up to wreck New York, but it was not threatening in the slightest.
The enormous size of most of them was not remotely daunting. Their weapons were… disconcerting, but not overtly threatening. She was more worried about dealing with the aftermath of the present, rather than the present itself. The present was the military's problem, but the cleanup was hers.
How many people were dying as she was swarmed by aides and officers alike? How many would be dead by the end of this? How long would it take for them to heal those scars? Those were things that actually scared her.
Not to mention the fact that they were aliens, as had been explained to her less than fifteen minutes ago. The public, Earth as a whole, would need calming after this shocking revelation that humans were not alone in the universe.
Wilson's presence at her elbow settled her jittery nerves, as few as there were. She hadn't gotten this far, to this beautiful Oval Office, by being easily unnerved, let alone scared. That was what she kept telling herself anyway, because what else could one do after seeing their jets backhanded out of the air by enormous robots?
Footage was being broadcasted from the invaders themselves, which only helped to stir panic but was also working for her. Screens had been pushed in so that she could see it. Her agents had strongly advised to move to the basement, but she refused. She had cited Churchill's presence in London during the bombings as an example. She wanted to be able to say, when all was over, that she had not hidden away. She had stayed and fought, in a way.
Then, she had seen her jets, her fearsome fighting force, fire at the odd robotic lifeforms. Triumph had made her grin, only for astonishment to wipe it off her face when the giants withstood it as if it were rain. In fact, it didn't appear to even annoy them. The rounds bounced right off the steel, not leaving a scratch.
So it wasn't even like rain to them. The missiles didn't work, either, to her shock. They were missing them completly. None of them had moved during the first attack, but as soon as it was over…
All hell had broken loose. The robots with wings had changed into jets to tear apart her own, and she could have sworn that she saw one of them teleport to hit an F-22 within easy range.
Within seconds all but one were gone. The sole remaining pilot had flown his burning jet towards the one her experts had said was the leader and, just when it appeared as if it would collide, the grey giant had lunged as if in anger and had backhanded the craft like it was made of paper.
Doubt had tickled the back of her mind, whispering in her mental ear, "What if the military is not enough?" She had slapped the thought away, not hearing the sounds of the generals swearing over the sound of her own mind.
"Hurry," he tried to hustle her, his earpiece alive with the alarming news that one of the "jets" from New York was on course for Washington. He needed to get her down into the basement, and fast. He was not going to lose her to some fiend, not when he had come this far with protecting her.
He was going to protect her, dammit. Just as he had sworn to.
"I'm trying, just let me grab -" A shock raced through the ground and threw her off her feet, Wilson barely managing to remain standing. Metal clicked and clanged, a sound that foreshadowed the roof suddenly vanishing from above her.
Thundercracker, though not blessed with the speed of Starscream, was far faster than the human jet he personified. He didn't have the slightest understanding of what Megatron would want the squishy leader for, but by the sound of his commander's voice when he had ordered him to fetch her…
It was nothing good. Already he had felt a stinging in the back of his processor for what his faction was doing to a defenceless race; he dreaded Megatron's imminent plans for enslavement.
When the human military scrambled jets to try to fight him on the capital's border, they had gone down easily with simple sonic booms. If human technology was this fragile, Thundercracker did not want to deal with having to kidnap a human itself, especially since Megatron had ordered, in explicit detail, that this one was not to be harmed. An even more unsettling indication from the Decepticon overlord.
The grey organic optics that watched him tear off the roof of her shelter were frozen on him, the rest of the female's body stiff where she lay in shock. He ignored the pings of primitive metal projectiles hitting his armor, identifying the female as the one Lord Megatron wanted.
Wilson dove, clutching onto her back as the blue behemoth of an alien picked both of them up, cupping them gently in an expansive palm. Thundercracker scowled, eyeing the way that the male had attached himself to the female firmly. He wasn't going to be able to pry them apart. Not without squishing them.
Before either of them could protest or the other Secret Service agents could act, the jet transformed around them and launched itself back into the skies with an ear-splitting boom. To be sure that his leader's both implicit and explicit orders were carried out, the elite Seeker fired a series of shots at the building, finishing his demolition of it.
Eleanor closed her eyes, her breathing intensifying as Ben Wilson held her tighter in the dark space. Neither of them dared to utter a word, too far shocked that such a thing had happened so quickly. Inside of the jet the air pressure remained the same, but they could both sense the massive change in speed.
It would not be long before they got wherever this robot wanted to take them.
'I have the human, Lord Megatron.' The tyrant's optics glowed brighter in a flash of anticipation. Energy surged through him from his core, his spark elated that his mate would be here soon. The warlord roared and fired a shot at another human dwelling in his triumph.
All was working perfectly. Devastator had destroyed the bridges and Astrotrain was working on the tunnels. Soon, this city would be a fortress; after that, the Earth would become his seat of power.
In the end, the President will become my Queen.
Eleanor had made herself as calm as she could possibly have become, finally accepting that she had just been snatched out of one of the most secure homes in the world, when the alien changed forms again. Wilson's grip did not falter and she opened her eyes in bewilderment, squinting in the glare as she smelled the smoke and heard the sound of crashing in the distance. The sound of destruction.
She and Wilson were rolled somewhere, and when she was able to focus she realised that a different black hand was holding them. It was larger, she could see, as it cupped to hold them in the center.
In that moment, when she looked up and saw that massive, unmistakeable face, she knew what powerlessness truly felt like. It didn't have to say anything for blind terror to fill her mind. She knew what was holding her. She had seen it on the screens, seen how it had swatted her planes like flies and felled skyscrapers with single shots.
Suddenly, its size was not so dismissable. On the screen it had been large, sure, but the immediacy was gone. It might have well been a movie. She knew that her enemy was big, but at the same time she hadn't known.
In the flesh, she comprehended just how enormous it was compared to her. This platform of a hand could easily crush her with all the ease of squeezing a rotten grape. The thought made her seize and then start quivering.
It wasn't just the leader here, either. All around them were his followers, including the jet that had brought her here. Pairs upon pairs of red eyes watched her intently, curiously, as a cruel person might consider a trapped insect.
In that moment, she forgot all about bravery and lost the fight to fear.
Her heart pounded so fast she could scarcely hear over the blood rushing in her ears. Her throat was blocked, unable to utter a sound. This was the end of the road for her, here in this massive being's hand. Never again would she sit through another briefing, never again would she meet a diplomat she loathed, never again would she do anything she hated. The time for her to watch sunrises and sunsets was over, to smell the scent of the rain, to do the things she loved. Eleanor knew that she was going to die here, but she was far too petrified to cry for her loss.
Wilson held her tight, but she could feel his heart through her back, her nerves hyperaware as the hairs on the back of her neck stood straight on end. It rose her close to its face so that she could see her terror reflected in those bloody, huge eyes, proof that this was real and not in her head. She felt air being sucked from around her towards the beast, her hair flying in the wind.
She was being sniffed, like a lion would smell a caught mouse. Her only response was a terrified, loud squeak.
The beings around it laughed and chattered in their alien tones, but the one holding her stayed silent. Behind the red glass something spun, widening and widening like the aperture of a camera lens.
Megatron inspected her weightless form, ignoring the irksome male that had somehow attached itself to her. No matter. He could easily dispose of it soon enough. His mate, however, was quite the interesting specimen. She was still in his palm, little optics so wide with fear.
He dismissed the stinging realisation that she did not recognize him with the thought that he must have been something to admire. It made him flare his plating with pride, and with this confidence he gathered her scent, making her squeak in terror. "Delicious" and "sweet" were the adjectives his olfactory sensors gave him. Even in human form she was so very perfect.
Some of his troops had taken a break from basking in their victory to watch his interaction with the human. He could not be gentle with her here, as much as he desired to start cooing and kissing her on the spot. A nest would do her well for the time being, allow time to calm herself.
Inspection done, Eleanor was lowered and shoved against the odd purple symbol on its chest, the force firm but not crushing in the least. In fact, if she had not been so terrified, she would have recognized the true nature of the action.
Possessive as it leveled warning gazes. Protective as the hand wasn't firm to keep her in, but to keep others out.
He dismissed his troops curtly, annoyed at their scornful commentary and distasteful mockery of his lovely mate. They left immediately upon seeing his anger, and he turned his processor to finding a human shelter that had yet to be demolished totally. It seemed to be safe, and a quick scan told him that there were human berths scattered about. She should find this one comfortable. Yes, this would do to shelter her for now.
First, though, this male had to let go of her. Thanking Primus that his mate's optics were closed and that the human was watching him, he narrowed his own optics threateningly. The male didn't react. He would have to go about this differently.
"Eleanor," he said, nudging her side carefully with a single finger. She jumped, wet optics flashing open in surprise. It speaks English! Her mind was barely able to comprehend. Her neck, not used to the strain, was starting to hurt from looking straight up at its face from her position flush against its expansive, hard chest.
"It is alright," he reassured, his voice still very… unemotional. Millions of years of being the hardened Decepticon Emperor did not fall away so simply. "Do you know who I am?"
She blinked, innocence all over her little faceplates. Adorable.
"My designation is Megatron." Eleanor couldn't even manage to nod her head, so stiff was she. Wilson merely watched and tried to keep his cool, especially as the beast snapped its gaze to him and decided to try to push them apart with a sizable black finger.
"Separate yourself from her." The warlord paused, temperature increasing with the nanoklik, "Now."
Don't make it angry, please Wilson. Listen, for the love of God!
He did, albeit reluctantly. With a bruising roughness Megatron separated Wilson from her, closing its fist around him as if making to crush him. "Please!" Eleanor found her voice, mirroring Megatron's look of shock that she had spoken.
"Don't hurt him!" There was a moment of silence so intense Eleanor could have sworn that it would go on forever before the titanic grey head nodded once and, setting him on the ground and far out of her sight, it straightened and cupped her tighter. The tyrant allowed himself a satisfied rumble, originating from deep within his chest.
The last time he was this excessively pleased was a long, long time ago.
It simply waltzed up to a building, lifting its enormous hand to jab two fingers through a window at its eye level with a shatter. Then, without so much as a pause, the steel colossus ripped away the exterior wall of the apartment like one might take the lid off of a sardine can. The debris fell to the ground and it roughly brushed away any jagged edges, sending glass clattering down as it set her inside, Eleanor practically jumping out of its hand in her fear as she promptly went to the wall as far as possible from her kidnapper.
Megatron noticed this with a pang - even after his words of reassurance, she was still afraid. The little thing was fighting not to show it but no amount of control could conceal the terror he saw in those tiny organic optics or the fearful stance she took as she pushed herself into a corner. His Queen, his Circuitsia, reduced to nothing more than a glitch mouse. The male, down by his pedes, was calling up at her while running back and forth in the amusing way that humans did.
To his fury she called right back, her voice so very scared and still eyeing him with distrust. "No harm will befall you," he attempted to promise and as he reached in with a servo to try to pet her she skittered out from under his fingers, diving under a table. He stopped himself from simply moving it aside, pondering for a moment while his servo hovered above it.
He had only indulged her request because it was very, very simple. Regardless, the human male was very likely to die - if he himself didn't step on it, it was probable that one of his mechs would. However, if she wanted it for company and it was comforting to have another human around…
Humans were social creatures. With some provisions, it would prove no threat to her. The last thing that he wanted was a filthy human male forcing his mate into breeding. Besides, she would benefit from some normalcy.
Megatron did not know much about humans yet, but he could see that he was still a shock to his mate.
Eleanor watched as the behemoth paused, huge black hand above her weak shelter, her chest heaving deep breaths. She was so scared that her mind refused to work and managed to conduct no other thoughts, focus on nothing but the grey monster watching her with those blood red eyes. Wilson shouted up at her again, words lost to the height of the building and she called back, flinching as its gaze hardened at her outburst.
Miraculously the hand retreated, though her fear did not lessen. It cocked its massive head at her and crooned again in its deep voice, "Would its presence soothe you?" She didn't know what "it" was but her brain told her head to nod dumbly.
It disappeared from view for a single moment, only for the hand to return and deposit Wilson within the apartment. Her bodyguard ran to her and stood in front of her protectively, bravely, even though nothing he could do could stop the strength of those massive black hands.
Megatron watched with anger the way the male blocked his view of her, aggression in its stance. It was as if it thought he would hurt her, and who was this insect to stand between himself and his future mate? To his knowledge his little one didn't have a human mate - thank Primus - and so what was it?
Thundercracker had brought them to him together, the male clinging and curled protectively around the President, though not in the way he had seen mechs try to protect their mates. A bodyguard, perhaps? Eleanor could keep it then, if it was a friend. He would eventually replace it, once she was convinced that he was nothing for her to fear.
Just as he had parted his lip components to speak again, a comm reached him from Soundwave.
"Stay here," he said softly, his servo so very badly wishing to stroke her as his optics found those wide, scared, wet ones. For such a soft creature she appeared to be very stiff, her limbs held close to her, as the tissue shook as a loose bolt would quiver. "I cannot guarantee your safety if you do not."
The silver giant lifted the massive cube in its palm and instantly the electronics in the apartment came to life, intimidating red eyes of what used to be a toaster, a radio, a television, among countless other things turned to peer at her. A whimper left her before she could stop it, eying the blades of a food processor-turned-robot. The soft sound of trepidation reached the tyrant's audios and chilled his spark.
"You will not harm her or the male," he growled as they came to tremble before him, the mech they recognized as their Master, "not even the smallest of scratches. Keep her from escaping." The humans regarded him with bewilderment as he spoke his Cybertronian, but he didn't even bother to explain before he turned on his heel and left, priming his fusion cannon.
Soundwave had told him that the human military had halted in their attempts to enter the city, likely because he now held their leader within its confines. However, he would not drop his guard lest they manage to slip in and take his mate from him in his arrogance. Yes, his absence from Eleanor was necessary to ensure her protection.
She listened, waiting for its thundering footsteps to leave before she dared to relax even a modicum. The living things that it had just created shifted back into their original items, but they still creeped her out. Wilson was nervous as well, his hackles still risen.
"What was that?" Eleanor asked, cautiously crawling out from under the table. She clenched her hands into fists to stop their shaking. "Who was he?" Her eyes darted back and forth, watching for any sudden movement from the smaller robots.
There was no way that whatever it was wasn't male. That deep voice that she had felt in her chest, that strong body, and that emanated masculine power was enough to prove it. Eleanor knew that whoever had spared her was male.
What was the name that she had heard him say? Megatron.
"I don't know," Wilson answered quietly, measuredly, as he tried to hide his anxiety. Never in his life had it been this hard, but he knew that the instant he let his President see his fear she would shut down. He needed to get her out of here, and to do that she had to be able. She could not close up. He wasn't about to try to leave now, with all of those miniature robots lurking in the apartment, and risk her being hurt. Sherman needed to stay alert so that they could flee at the drop of a hat.
"It's going to be alright, okay?" He reassured, gently taking hold of her still-quivering arm in a firm grasp. She looked at the obliterated, missing wall of the apartment and he saw her composure falter.
"D-did you see how he did that?" Her eyes were almost as big as her gaping mouth as she turned between him and the empty space, "It was just - just - gone!" He'd ripped it off like it was wrapping paper, and the thought of what such great strength of such a giant could do to her...
"An-and h-how," She closed her eyes and took a breath, but it did not help much, "how did he h-hold me so carefully?" The President shivered at the thought of how gentle he had been when he had her in his palm, cupped like an infant. Such large, strong, hands, that made her feel so very small and weak...
"Shhhh," Wilson calmed her, shooing the alarm away from his heart, "We will defeat them at some point and we will get out of here, do you understand?"
President Sherman started to nod in earnest, her eyes full of hope and fear that evaporated when the robots around them erupted into scornful, mechanical laughter. The seed of doom that had been planted in her mind as soon as that silver colossus had touched her grew and deepened its roots. Despair invaded her subconscious, an inkling of doubt trickling into her mind. But what if we can't defeat them? What if we can't escape? It is unlikely that these creatures will let us walk out. What will we do then?
What will he do then?
The Emperor of Destruction hummed quietly, the thrill of the knowledge that his mate had been recovered increasing his prowess and agility. With the Autobots out of the way, the AllSpark in his possession, the Earth soon to fall, and his sweet sparkmate back the Decepticon was in an excellent mood. It had been a long time since he had felt this good. It would have been perfect, he realised as he smashed an armored vehicle with his fist, if said mate wasn't so blindly terrified.
He wasn't sure that he had ever seen anything that scared of him before. The way her little grey optics had widened, her tissue had hardened, and her frame had cowered made his spark… sad. She was his mate, and the poor thing was as terrified as he had ever seen another living being. Even captured Autobots had shown some courage; even Starscream could be brave (why else would the Seeker try and fail so many times to overthrow him?).
But his mate crawled into a hole and curled in on herself, her frame shaking like human dwellings under the assault of his cannon. Why would that be? What made her different?
She was small, but so were some of the Autobots his forces had caught. She had no weapons, but the imprisoned Autobots often didn't either. She had taken one look at him and closed her optics in fear. What did that mean?
He thought of how soft her little body had felt, even when hardened in trepidation, how weak those subframe supports under her flesh would be. How easily he could smash one of them into a million, irreparable pieces. How he could close his fist once and that would be all for her.
His mate knew that she was weak. She perceived herself to be defenseless, helpless, prone to harm. She knew that she could not fight him, and even if she got out of his grasp running would do no good. One step on his part and he could snatch her up again, and perhaps decide to crush her. She felt trapped.
Poor little sweetling, he said to himself as a plane was hit by one of his own blasts, I will never hurt you. She would never be hurt again if he could help it. The thought sickened him as he smashed aside another jet with heightened fury.
But how do I right your sentiments? Another vehicle met the underside of his ped, just as he found what he was looking for on the fleshlings' internet.
A gift, he mused, but which type? There are many possibilities. He could get her a treat, something edible and sweet as this "chocolate" was described. Females liked to adorn themselves with rare minerals, so perhaps something for her to display on her frame. She probably needed a distraction, so maybe something for her to entertain herself with…
What do you like? It was obvious that Circuitsia did not remember him. He would have to start from scrap with this tiny little replacement. She would be happy - he was determined to make himself appear safe to her, and eventually attractive.
She had been a leader of the human world - there must be plenty of information on the internet about her, or at least something to get him started.
He saw a few things about her favorite treats and literature, but other than that nothing personal. It was all Earth politics. Nothing revealing about his sweetspark, except an interesting figure in the background in most of her photographs…
That male, optics shrouded with dark glass, watching carefully and guiding his mate's steps. A guard was all it was, and nothing for him to worry about it seemed. As much as he desired to have all but himself barred from her, he could not kill a close protector. That would only send the wrong message to his already frightened mate - that he was something to cower from.
He wanted to have a bond with her and eventually sparklings, and none of that would work unless she was trustful of him. She would only be miserable, sad. He couldn't want such a little thing to be afraid of her mate, constantly scared and fearing for her life.
What he wanted, he decided, was to coddle her. Such a tiny femme could easily fit into his spark chamber and the thought of cuddling her close, inside himself where no one could hurt her, where he was always touching her, made him warm. There would be no escape, no way out, but his own spark would provide her warmth and comfort.
But that was risky in her human state. He didn't know how or if a human would react to spark energy. It could permanently damage her and the tyrant was adamant about keeping her in perfect condition, both mentally and physically.
Mental health. Megatron cumulated the one-sided battle with a single smash of his fist into the last remaining vehicle, crushing it mercilessly with one blow. He didn't know the slightest thing of what humans needed to survive, let alone if he could even mistakenly break her mind. He would need to do some research, and fast. Megatron didn't want his sparkmate to lack something necessary for too long, lest it result in death. He knew all too well how permanent death was for humans.
Blitzwing interrupted his thoughts with unimportant and needless worry, prompting a simple response from himself. The conquering of Earth was practically ensured. The humans could do nothing to stop him. Now, the Decepticon Emperor was concerning himself with another conquest.
His tiny human of a mate. A being that needed nourishment, shelter, and protection. He was only too happy to oblige her needs and wants, to spoil her with plenty of gifts.
But how would she be given a frame of her own? A human had a lifespan far too short for his taste, and her… uterus? could not support a sparkling. She couldn't sparkbond with him, or even try to take his spike.
Even if she could do all of those things, her flesh was far too weak to take a pounding from him. She would end up a half-smashed pile of organic tissues and supports.
Unfortunately, he could not even mention plans for her conversion to Soundwave and Shockwave until the Decepticons had established themselves and his new fortress was under construction by the human slaves. That would only happen as soon as he had the Earth firmly under his ped. Standing up strong and powerful he walked away with a new puff in his chassis, leaving Blitzwing behind, the jet looking on in awe at his leader's destruction.
The Emperor had better things to do than conquer a planet that was already his. But if this was the way things had to go, he might as well go through the motions to get to the fun part. His Queen was waiting for him, no doubt very lonely even with the male's presence and the drones. As soon as he was done, he could go set things right with her and work on lessening her fear.
It was starting to get dark.
Eleanor had stayed in the same spot, sitting on the couch, her posture tight and her body occupying less space as a result. After Wilson had calmed her down enough, all she had done was stare out at the city with empty eyes. He had surmised that it was a coping mechanism, and thus he did not bother her with it.
She didn't even move when a terrible shrieking, the screams that of hundreds of people, had come from the park earlier. Wilson's gut had clenched - that sound couldn't have carried worse news.
However, it would be cold very soon. It would be bearable but he had to find somewhere to keep the both of them warm. The wall that the… whatever he was had torn out was problematic, but the park avenue apartment was spacious with other rooms.
"Madame," he tried gently, receiving no response from her.
Wilson bit his lip. He had been her bodyguard for some time, and so he thought that she would understand.
The man crouched in front of her and when no eye contact was made he grabbed her shoulders to give her a firm, hard shake. "Madame President, I need you to listen to me."
Eleanor blinked three times in quick succession, refocusing for the first time in hours. There were few times that Wilson had said that phrase and her brain picked up on its seriousness. "Are you with me now?"
What had she been doing that he needed to shake her like that? Had she been lost in her thoughts for so long that it was dark now? What in the hell had happened?
She could have died earlier, and so could he. Death could still take them. Her military must have attempted to rescue her, but to no avail. She was stuck here, the captive of an alien whose intentions for her country were becoming clearer by the instant. Eleanor didn't know, though, what he wanted with her.
And then that circle of thought would start back around.
"I know that you are reluctant to move, but we must. I have a hunch that they do patrols out there," he pointed firmly, shaking his arm a few times, at the rapidly darkening city, "and we don't want to be here when they come by."
She nodded and stood, stopping all thought for a moment to refocus herself. This was a multi-million apartment - at least she wasn't in a rundown pit. Who knows how long you will be here, a dark voice uttered.
Snap out of it! Duty screamed back. Stay alert!
The three doors that led out of the sitting room went to a kitchen, a private hall, and to a bedroom respectively. Wilson offered her a hand which she disregarded. She needed to pull out of this funk.
Hesitantly she tried the lights within the spacious bedroom. Off and on went the switch, but nothing.
Figures.
She went straight to the bed, lying down atop the silk covers. Guilt and a sense of rudeness nipped at her, but she ignored them. It is unlikely that the people living here will come back, she admitted while trying to remain logical and unemotional. If she didn't stop this, she was going to collapse under the weight of her own stress.
"I will stand guard. If I see anything coming this way, I will tell you." Now this she could do something about.
The President drew a firm line, sitting up and ordering firmly, "Tell me when my shift starts. You cannot stay up all night and be ready for tomorrow." Wilson only gave her a skeptical look at best.
"Am I clear?" Now that was the President that he served.
"Tremendously."
When he turned around and she resumed her rest, he shared a half-grin of relief with himself. He had been afraid for a moment that she was gone, only for her to come screaming back and make him feel foolish for doubting her.
That robot would have a hard time breaking a woman with a core of steel. However, if he could help it, Megatron wouldn't have the chance.
According to Megatron's research, humans recharged - slept - at during Earth's dark cycles, with onlining occurring whenever their circadian rhythms dictated. Water fell from the atmosphere to slide down his frame as he stalked towards her shelter, wondering if she would even be up yet. If not, the sound of him approaching probably would. Humans' ears were sensitive to loud sounds.
She was. Eleanor hadn't slept a wink the night before, for every time her eyes would drift shut and sleep was an inch away from taking her, memory of what had happened would startle her awake. Though she saw clearly that there were no red eyes peering at her in the darkness, though she knew that she would likely feel his approach if he was here, adrenaline kept her up through the night. She didn't even know when the rain had started, she had been so distant.
She was so mentally exhausted that she had forgotten all about taking over Wilson's watch.
Not that the agent had thought he would have gotten any sleep either, even if he had let the President do his job.
The President had been testing the water in the apartment, glad to see that it still worked if only for the time being. It was cold, but always better than no water. Not as easily dismissed, however, was the question: How long will you be kept here? The answers and their possible consequences were not something that she could do anything about - therefore, she did not consider them.
Maybe that would be her plan from now o-
A distant thud sent shocks up through the sensitive soles of her feet. Her eyes went wide in fear for a moment before she sprinted out of the marbled bathroom and slid under the bed, where she curled into a shameful fetal position and closed her eyes shut, willing herself to stop shaking. Fear made sense now, and she was far past shaming it.
Eleanor was caught between wishing that it was Megatron and hoping that it was not. Megatron had not harmed either of them yesterday, but that held no guarantees for today. And if it was another robot she was definitely dead.
Wait… where is Wilson?!
Megatron came to the front of the nest of his little human, taking in the empty room quickly before calling for her.
"Eleanor," he said gently, aware that she was probably frightened and hiding. "Come out, sweetling." He unttered the last word in Cybertronian, liking the feel of it emerging from his vocaliser.
No movement. A simple heat scan showed him that she was huddled beneath a human berth in a different room, curled into a tight little ball. The guard, however, was behind one of the furnishings.
It was not standoffish nor foolish. Interesting.
Should he have the drones drag her back out? That would teach her to come when called, but would that make her fear him more? He had no choice and the warlord knew that he would atone for it later. Hence, he brushed it off and ordered in sharp Cybertronian, "Bring her to me. Inflict not one scratch."
Eleanor heard the odd clicks and beeps from Megatron, still not moving a muscle, when the scuttling sounds started. The thick carpeting could only dull the sound of so many tiny feet so much, and she clenched up.
Then they started pricking at her back, so many tiny sharp points spurring her out from under the bed in an awkward crawl. She balked at the sight of the doorway that led to the living room, but the pricks through her pant legs and on her bare feet were starting to carry electrical shocks which only seemed to worsen.
With pain that bruised more her pride than her body, she stumbled out into the sight of her captor.
He chuckled at her, and the demons behind her echoed it with gusto until Megatron snapped something stern-sounding at them, again with deep clicks and beeps, making them clam up immediately.
"'Good morning' is the proper greeting, Eleanor." The drones resumed their prior positions, but not before prodding Wilson to come out from his place too. Still far too flabbergasted to say anything, but her cheeks reddening from embarrassment, she shut her mouth.
"Not for a kidnapper." Evidently, her lips had other plans.
A static laugh and amused grin was not what she had been expecting at all in response to her cheeky remark. Yesterday, he had seemed to be the type to reprimand in a more physical manner.
Noticing that she appeared unsettled, Megatron dipped his helm. The "rain" had been irksome but he was not noticing it now. Rather than the pools in the ruined streets catching his attention, he was lost in the grey depths of her mesmerizing optics. Beautiful, his spark breathed. Though a part of him detested that he was becoming obsessive, he paid it no mind.
"Did you sleep well?" Eleanor's skin crawled and the hairs on the back of her neck rose. What was this? Something was there, something that did not show itself in his face or his words, but was there.
"Stop mocking me." He had not been expecting that, based on the tiny recoil of his massive head. Water droplets from the rain outside splashed into the apartment, deflected there by the grey metal.
"What reason do I have to mock you?" He parried back. "Now, is this dwelling comfortable?"
This time she said nothing. Her jaw was shut and her eyes hard with something like determination.
Annoyance bore through his spark like a drill in an automated mine. She was testing his finite patience reserves. A pity; he had been looking forward to seeing his mate. After millions of years of waiting for her, he wanted to waste not a nanoklik with waiting even longer. He took time away from overseeing his forces - which could run rampant with their petulant mannerisms - to visit her, only for her to snap at and ignore him?
"So be it." She needed to be punished. If she did not want to talk to him, perhaps forcing her to take her company and socializing from him would produce results.
Megatron's black servo reached in in a flash, brushing past her surprised form and snatching up Wilson's in a closed fist. It was harder than the tyrant expected to pick up the male without crushing it, but he secured his digits around the flesh creature and removed it from the nest of his mate.
She ran after her guard, but ducked back when Megatron started to remove another wall, this time from the apartment above hers. Debris fell down, some of it getting into her own space, before Wilson disappeared from sight.
Oh no.
Without another word he left, leaving her all alone within the apartment, wondering what she had done.
The next time I come back she will have hopefully learned her lesson, Megatron pondered as he strode towards the established rendezvous point with his mechs. If she hadn't, well… Perhaps he would start removing possible sources of entertainment.
He hoped that she would not need physical punishment. This was her first offence, she was no doubt still learning. Eleanor would not likely need that for a while. Escape was impossible with so many optics watching her, but any attempts would have to result in a punishment. He could not allow her to run wild and disobey her Dominant mate and her Emperor.
In time she would learn. Once she understood that he was no threat to her well-being and that she would not be abused, Eleanor would come to enjoy his presence on her Earth. She would be forced to, for this planet was his now, and delusion was not an act that he would tolerate from his mechs, even less his mate.
And she would be his mate, the Carrier of his sparklings. There would be a way to erase her organic nature, replace her flesh with metal.
The sight of his troops gathered in the flattened area of the city spurred pride in the stead of his frustration with his mate. Soon this would be a sight she would enjoy as much as he did.
"Decepticons, he announced in the silence that had arrived with him, "this world is ours!"
"More inner-city explosions," an officer reported from outside the tent.
"Nothing we can do about that right now." There seemed to be fewer and fewer things that the commander knew that he could control. Last he had heard the White House had been attacked, and the President was still missing. He assumed her dead in the ruble, like the countless others that had been inside when one of those things attacked.
How a single one of those gigantic life forms had just waltzed into the capital of one of the most powerful nations in the world was more than unsettling and a large source of his growing helplessness, to make no mention of the fact that the leader appeared to be producing more robots out of electronics.
"Troop movements," he inquired of the colonel now at his right. He may have been rapidly losing control, but he was not going to just surrender. Not after the death of his Commander and Chief.
"Troops and most of the vehicles have been pulled back into the residential areas as ordered. To all intents and purposes, this place looks deserted."
"Good," the Commander replied grimly, "Less of a target for one of their impromptu raids." He had learned that lesson yesterday with those monsters, but hundreds of troops in Central Park had payed for his mistake with their lives.
"Sir, we are getting reports… Los Angeles and San Diego are currently under attack." He almost didn't hear the report.
"We're going to need all the manpower we can get if we're going to have any chance of hitting back." Any chance were the words that played over and over in his mind, and almost as if to shout over his own inner mantra he ordered, "Patch me through to the North Front!"
The Commander returned to speaking with the Colonel, going over their grim facts. "The death toll estimates are sitting around 200,000 and climbing," and I'm not surprised. "First they take out the bridges, then they flood the tunnels, the North is cut off…
"They've turned the place into a damn sanctuary." All the while the enemy had broadcasted live feed of destruction, most of it being from New York but now they were starting to get feed of other cities and countries too.
Lord Above, what was happening here?
"We're facing a sadistic, military genius the likes of which we've never seen before." In the background another city was called in the din, "In a matter of days the enemy has successfully secured the perfect stronghold from which to launch any number of attacks."
Another city's name was called, as if Death himself was taking roll call.
"Ground troops, air strikes, and heavy artillery are all out." The Colonel was speechless. "They can control or interfere with any guided missile, which leaves the 'dumb alternative'. And we're not about to start carpet bombing our own people."
The Colonel summarised, "One giant hostage situation. Any word from the fleet?" He sounded hopeful, like a man searching for the last bit of light.
The Commander rubbed the back of his neck, "A brief message came in over the radio, and if I ever hear that message again as long as I live, it'll be too soon."
"About as bad as it gets." Obliged as a human being to help support the younger man, the Commander tried to do just that.
"They haven't won yet, son. We still have a country to defend." Even if our president, our capital, and our military are gone. Fight for what remains.
"Sir, you may want to see this." A nervous aid handed him a paper, and used to bad news the Commander looked at it nonchalantly, but nothing could have prepared him for what he was about to see.
The shock of seeing the President alive was quickly overridden by the content of the photograph.
The first thing he noticed were the grey eyes in the color photograph, eyes that he remembered as being windows to a kind but tough soul. Only once had he the pleasure of being in her company, but he knew he had met oh so few women who could stand their ground like she could.
The next aspect was the red eyes inspecting the grey ones, alight with something he didn't like in the least bit. Horror, anger, and powerlessness clashed in him, and he closed his eyes and lowered his head, shoving the paper at the Colonel. The photograph showed him how desperately he needed to get into the city, to get past their lines, to save the Commander in Chief while she still breathed, but also hammered into him a grim realisation.
They couldn't.
The radios in the apartment didn't work, not even static on any of the chanels. It could be that the robot was refusing to work with her, but she felt that it wasn't that.
The city was quiet, absolutely silent save for the whistle of wind between half-demolished buildings. She wondered what was happening beyond, where everyone was. There weren't any people that she could see, but those that had survived were probably gone by now.
Dead or, if they were especially lucky, escaped. Little did she know of the sorting that was going on in the Bronx, of what was happening in the city beyond Manhattan.
The captured President hadn't a clue about the bomb that had almost been dropped on New York, sent by the UN to end a problem that was already too progressed to kill. She knew nothing about Megatron's order for his own soldier, Tankor, to abort the dropping of the nuclear bomb. No signs that the last hope of humanity, the coalition fleet, had been destroyed with ease, that the military camp that had been hoping to enter the city and save her was now a smoldering pit.
Eleanor saw no signs of Megatron's global victory.
There were no signs of anything at all. Even the pigeons were gone. It was as if the world had just… forgotten about her. Was a deal reached? Had Megatron been appeased?
She was technically able to talk to Wilson if they both walked to the edges of the apartments and she spoke up to him, but the last time she had seen him he had said that he was working on a way to get down to her apartment. That discussion was followed by crashing and hacking at the walls above her.
She had yelled at him to take a break after half an hour and he must have heard her, for the sounds had stopped.
Total silence for her to mull over the fact that she was a prisoner of war, that the White House had been destroyed and she was likely considered missing in action, if not dead.
Another first, her mind pointed out, the first President to be a prisoner of war during their own term.
The first to go missing in action.
Eleanor was very much known to be alive, but she saw no signs of the bird robot watching her from across Central Park, broadcasting her image not to the world, but to the personal datapad of a purring warlord.
A week later Megatron sat back in his chair at the head of the table, rather bored with the repetitive meeting. He already knew that the leaders, save for sweet little Eleanor, were dead. For once Starscream had followed orders and done as he was told, hunting down and executing the leaders of the human countries like the vermin they were. He knew that the ranks of the human slaves were growing in size as more and more cities and towns fell under Decepticon shadow, and with these numbers his own troops were increasing as the human technology was given Cybertronian life via the Allspark.
Everything was perfect, but he could not see his mate as he longed to until this meeting was concluded, as unnecessary as his presence was. He was not truly needed in a discussion for the best methods to produce the best Energon while terminating the least number of slaves. Humans had short lifespans, a particularly alarming fact, but they were not so short and so quickly bred that they could be easily squandered. Megatron was not keen on wasting resources, as replaceable as they were. Therefore, the only reason he was here was to approve or deny proposed strategies.
His processor slowly wandered in and out of the conversations and the heated, prideful arguments of his subordinates, garnering ideas for the welfare of his mate. So far he had gathered that she needed to be kept at a certain temperature and sleep for so long a night in order to live, as well as have access to clean water. Taking care of humans physically was far more simple than he had anticipated.
Until he had heard of the dietary requirements. As his officers bickered over what was too little and what was too much, likely trying to impress him, Megatron was lost in his own worried thoughts.
Primus, he groaned, I haven't fed her.
Anxiously he waited for the meeting to end, not considering what he was signing in the least as he pondered what was happening in her nest. As soon as he left he found a human village and tore the roof off of a human fuel store, grabbing what he detected that was not rotting and leaving for New York.
He ignored comms left and right, worry for his mate first and foremost in his processor. Would she even be online when he arrived?
His spark stopped when he saw the empty nest, his little one nowhere to be seen. Had she thrown herself out of the building in an attempt to get fuel? Was she that desperate? He didn't see any splatters on the ground - had she somehow survived the fall and was now limping around, trying to sort through the ruins to find herself some food?
Megatron, in his anger, turned from his mate's shelter and neglected to scan for her - if he had, he would have picked up upon the wide-eyed woman huddled under the berth. He only managed a few steps, walking back the way he had come, when he snarled his frustration and smashed his fist into the building beside him. For a few moments he left it lodged there in the primitive material, huffing vents in his fury, and then pulled it out to flex his servo and rid it of the irritating shards of glass and steel. He had left her alone, his "precious mate," without any fuel to starve herself into permanent stasis. Caged, hungry, and helpless.
Depending on how long she had been gone, she might be offline already. There was no Allspark nor Matrix of Leadership for the humans - she was gone because he had failed to care for her. She relied on me to care for her.
At least Circuitsia had not offlined alone; she had died in his arms. Eleanor, however, had probably died all by herself, hungry, cold, and hurting from her fall. His rage and sorrow built up and he reared back his helm to roar, shaking the pebbles in the rubble at his pedes, and swung another fist into the building.
Eleanor stood and padded from her spot to the wall, where she watched from her hidey-hole as he punched the building, dust and debris flying, and bellowed in such a sorrowful way. Her hands tightened around the rough edge of the wall at the corner of her "apartment," her eyes filling with confusion and concern even as her ears rang from his roar. This was… bizarre. Was he actually sad that she had appeared to be gone? Or was he angry?
It appeared to be both.
Once he was done with the ear-splitting cry and all was silent, she softly called out to him, "I'm here."
She clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes going wide. What in the hell did I just do?
Her fleeting hope that he had not heard her meek call disappeared as his enormous leg froze in midair, halfway through a lengthy step, and he turned slowly to look at her. He moved faster than she would have thought a being of his hulking mass could, smashing asphalt to dust beneath his pounding feet. They skidded to a halt outside of her apartment, red eyes studying her as a black hand herded her into its complement.
Once he was done with his inspection, which consisted of a careful coal digit running down the length of her torso and legs, the eyes narrowed dangerously. "Why did you not come to greet me?"
Though he was relieved that his scans revealed that she wasn't hurt and somehow wasn't starving, there were limits to how far he could be pushed. A lack of punctuality on her part was what he blamed for his anger but in his spark he knew that being made to needlessly worry was the true cause.
Eleanor apologized, fearing for her life as the raven hands suddenly became fatally threatening. He could crush her in an instant if he desied, and the look on that cold face struck that fact into her core. Her heart felt as if it wanted to break out of her chest and a lump sat heavily in her throat.
"I'msorry," her voice wavered against her will, "PleaseI'msorry." I don't want to die!
"You will come to me in the future," he growled, not pleased with the way her voice squeaked in terror. Her peeps were cute, but her fear irked him. To reassure her he petted a pale arm gently, stroking with the point of a digit. She did not ease her tense organic tissues at all, narrowed eyes still very distrustful. I will not ever hurt you, little one. It's going to be alright, can't you see?
"What have you been ingesting?" His scans told him that her systems were in the process of digesting something - he hoped that she hadn't been forced to refuel on something dangerous or toxic. It didn't appear as if she had munched on any of her nest's furnishings, but he wouldn't put it past a desperate creature.
She took a moment to discern his meaning through her lingering fear, "Food from the pantry." Eleanor didn't move, stock still in his palm. As much as he seemed to have relaxed, she couldn't trust that as a reason to no longer be afraid. There was much to fear from him, including his unclear motives for keeping her.
Pleased that she was alright and healthy but also seeing that she was nervous he gently set her back inside. Her bodyguard regarded him warily in his apartment above hers, despite his demonstration that he had the ability to care for her. Quickly unsubspacing the food he had gathered in his haste, he snatched up the guard without warning and left his newly alarmed mate with her human fuel. He had thought that her fear would gradually dissipate, but she was just as stubborn and terrified as before.
It was time that he learned about her, and there was only so much he could know from the human Internet. He wanted all of her little secrets, like a greedy Senator for credits, and this male could give them to him.
Being gentle with Eleanor came naturally, almost as if his servo itself was aware of who it was holding and her importance. The male, however, was not so lucky. Instead of being cradled like his beloved President, he was confined in a firm fist almost too tight to breathe in.
City blocks passed in just a few strides of the enormous beast carrying him, footfalls loud and swaying, cracking the asphalt on the street far below. Every so often he would kick a car and send it skittering across the street, or crush one beneath him with his titanic weight.
The alien said nothing for the duration of the walk, surprising Wilson when he abruptly stopped beside a building whose roof reached his waist and unceremoniously rolled him onto the platform. The landing was hard and the agent impacted with his shoulder, inspiring a pained groan from his throat. That would leave an ugly bruise, assuming he lived to see tomorrow.
Determination sprung from his heart, his teeth grinding down against each other. He had to survive this. The thought of her living alone, with no company but this android, made fire flare behind his eyes.
No. He was not going to allow that.
The robust grey arms folded themselves behind the back of the giant, taking a stance that was all-too human like for something so clearly extraterrestrial. Red eyes bore down on him, regarding him as one might view a puzzle.
The wind ruffled his hair and their gazes locked. Wilson slowly stood from the roof, dusting his suit off without breaking the stare. Something told him that this was not a challenge he wanted to lose.
Megatron almost laughed at the intensity in the human's optics. If only his mate would have a little of that fire, that courage, to hold his gaze and look so angry. No, determined. This human wanted something, but he wasn't going to get it. Especially not if he wanted what the warlord thought that he desired. "Human, you will tell me about Eleanor Sherman."
Not in a million years did he expect those words to come from that being's mouth. "What?" was all the stunned guard could manage. For what sick reason could he want to know about President Sherman? For that matter, what did he want to learn about her? It wasn't even phrased like a question, either. The bastard was so sure of himself that he didn't even need to ask, but rather imposed an order. Wilson's heart leapt in a quick spat of terror when he remembered the truth of who had the upper hand at the moment.
"Tell me what you know of her." He pushed again, not phased in the slightest bit. The Secret Service head was barely aware that he was slack-jawed at the unwavering command.
Megatron leant forward, narrowing his optics in suspicion of the human male below him. "Speak," he growled lowly in threatening English, "if you do not wish to see her harmed."
He had to crane his neck now to see the shadowed face of their captor, the glare of the sun wreaking havoc on his eyes. "What do you want with this information?" Accidents do happen, human, and it is imperative that they do not.
The next sentence was one he would remember clearly for the remainder of his life. Wilson would recall how the wind had stopped and the sun had seemingly increased its intensity, the shadow around him darkening. His heart had hammered and blood had pounded, stomach dropping clear to the basement of the building below his feet.
"She would make an excellent mate."
He didn't know where to start with this. The agent was drawing on training he had undergone over and over again but only now was forgetting, blowing to recall the information that had been hammered into every fibre of his being but had failed to think of in his shock.
This alien wanted to court a female of the race he had invaded, a race much smaller than himself. Wilson hadn't a clue about how they reproduced, but he didn't want Eleanor to know. What if it is… sexual?
Back to the plan.
First step was to negotiate, to point out the flaws in the plan. He only hoped that this method would hold true for non-human threats as well. "You like her?"
The massive head tipped downwards once in an impatient nod, "Have I not proven my fitness to her? I have sheltered her, fed her, and shown gentleness to her."
Wilson couldn't deny how careful he was with Eleanor, but he could not back down. The thought of surrender did not even cross his mind. "She is human."
"A factor I am well aware of." If his mate had been protected by dullards such as these, it was no wonder Thundercracker had been able to simply scoop her out of her palace. "Do get to your point, human."
Wilson shifted to the other foot, unsure of how to proceed. The last thing he wanted was to get crushed out of exasperation by the colossus before him. "So you want to start a human harem?" There was something dirty about this, a mysterious dark intent that shrouded Eleanor like a thundercloud.
Confusion furrowed the expansive mouth in a way no metal should have been able to contort, remaining there for a few seconds before switching rapidly to offence and disgust. "No. Only Eleanor." Oh no.
"We, like humans, mate for life with a single partner." A harem might have been preferable during the war but now, seated upon a permanent throne on a permanent planet rather than a temporary one on a vagabond warship, he was yearning for his sparkmate to become his permanent Queen.
The knowledge that she was alive, his lost sparkmate, ready to be wooed once again, made his processor refine base coding in his programming. Megatron was aware that all of his intense attention and desire for interface was now pinned on one femme alone.
Wilson hadn't once broken his gaze from the beginning, and the intensity in the larger's burning inhuman eyes conveyed the extreme attention, as if he was looking not at him but was zoned out. He's thinking of her, he realised in fear. Powerlessness crept up on him, and his mind's eye showed him terrible pictures of her being pinned, being taken against her will.
His heart beat so fast it felt like had stopped moving all together, becoming a blur inside his chest. Assuming that he was telling the truth, that ruled out the possibility of Eleanor being taken as a literal trophy wife. "But she isn't a robot."
"I find her extremely attractive, even for Cybertronian standards."
His stomach rebelled. Not good not good not good. "She needs specific things to stay alive." And to escape from you.
"Yes, and I have provided her with warmth, shelter, water, and food." That explains why the water is still working and why you have brought food.
"But that isn't enough. She needs… other things too." Megatron cocked his helm at this, relieved that the male was finally going somewhere but almost anxious about what he was going to reveal.
"Such as?" Wilson balked, listing as many as he could. Everytime he thought that he was done, yet another article would come to mind. Maybe, if he really cared about her - which he must have, he acknowledged regretfully, for her to be handled so carefully - he would let her go and allow her to take care of herself. Wilson doubted that the military was defeated. Perhaps she could be turned back over.
Then he would have done his job.
"Those needs can easily be fulfilled." Frustration bit into Wilson's gut. "Is there anything else?" He sounded so calm, so very nonchalant, and it was making him sick.
"The mental ones are also important."
Megatron's entire position had not changed at all over the course of the meeting, remaining just as intense as at the start, and it was getting on his last nerve. This entire, perverse conversation was getting on his last nerve. "Go on."
Wilson needed to establish that Eleanor could not be played with like a living doll. That was his first and greatest worry. "We. as decent human beings," anger caught up with him, aimed mostly at his powerlessness taking over his heart, "have rules against rape. First and foremost."
Offence shone for the second time, massive eyes bigger than his hands narrowing. He roared, "You believe that I would rape my mate?" The arms unclasped and flew down on the roof on either side of him, cracking the flat cement. He was knocked off his feet and onto his rear.
Eleanor, further down, looked up from her bag of potato chips, having heard the roar but not the words. Please be alright Wilson. Nervous appetite lost, she rolled it up and set it on the carpet beside her. She had been losing weight far too fast to be healthy, and though she knew that she needed to eat she didn't want to.
Not since that animalistic bellow.
The voice lowered to a dangerous growl, enormous face right above him. This anger couldn't be faked. This was a real reaction of a prideful man who had just been insulted in the worst possible way. "When I merge with her," the exhaust was hot against his face but he still held the gaze. At this point, he was more afraid to look away than to maintain it.
"... it will be because she is willing to mate." Megatron stayed where he was, huffing over the human, instilling fear into the slave. He bared denta to be sure, mimicking what he knew would make the human cower.
"Is that clear?"
Wilson nodded once, scared in a different way now. He was so sure that he would get what he wanted, that this would end with Eleanor… however it was that they mated. This being, whatever it was and wherever it was from, was clearly insane. Or is he?
What if he actually lusts after her as a mate? What if this is not a taboo amongst his kind to take what is available?
"Good." Megatron pulled pack up, removing his servos and replacing them behind him. The unnerved human sat up and got to his pedes again, shaken but still with that brave expression. An admirable trait.
"Are there other mental needs, human? I will not neglect her."
This would be the death of him, but so be it. It was his duty, his job. Megatron, for whatever unclear reasons he had, was not interested in hurting her. By telling him of these things that could hurt her, he was protecting Eleanor.
How long this protection could last was another question. How long the overlord would wait before Eleanor was his mate was not something he could consider. After all, the military was still coming.
Right?
Megatron gave them a few days apart, during which Wilson would visit quickly in the night to check on her. If he visited during the day the robots would attack him, but they seemed to sleep at night just as humans did.
Wilson had only just left and retreated back to his apartment when the footfalls grew louder and the building began to shake.
Megatron knew that he needed to prove himself as her friend, that he would take care of her, provide for her, and protect her from harm. The human had told him as much and the human internet appeared to support this, but the sight that met him was not what he had prepared for. The night might not have been the best time, for she was supposed to sleep, but it was the only time he had after yet another long day of organising the human slaves and his own forces. He was expecting peaceful, cute sleep, not this.
His mate was stressed out of her mind with fear, tiny little body curled up in her nest as she whimpered and begged in her recharge. He hadn't known humans could do that.
"Please, Megatron!" Came from those lips, but it was not in desire as he wished. It was in deep, intense fear and helplessness that squeezed his spark.
Had he frightened her so terribly that it carried over into her sleep? Did humans play back memories as they slept, and that was what she was doing now? Remembering him as a veritable monster?
Or is it worse in her sleep? Was he bigger, more intimidating? Did he have claws, fangs, armor that cut her? Was he torturing her?
Her crying grew louder, and unable to bear the sight of her suffering any longer he gently guided her into his servo.
Megatron was astonished at how limp she was in her recharge as he took her in his palm, feeling her shivers as she reacted to whatever she was seeing. Guiding a finger down her side he made gentle strokes, trying to calm her without rousing her. He didn't want her to wake up in his grasp when he terrified her during the day - it surely would only be worse at night. Humans were afraid of the dark.
Eleanor stilled and quieted immensely at his touches, little optics going still under their covers. She didn't quiver any longer, her form now fully lax in his palm. Her body was squishy as it should be, fearful stiffness absent.
Perhaps now was the time to experiment with his holoform. Setting her down in the nest of covers again, he lowered himself and turned to lean back against the building, resting his frame and cracking glass windows with his weight.
Smaller now, with the body of a human male slightly older than she, he slipped into her strange, fluffy nest to lie with her back against his front. She was resting beautifully, gentle breaths so quiet he almost couldn't hear them. Cautiously Megatron moved closer, his body taller than hers by enough to tuck her helm under his chin. Her scent was delicious in its entirety, especially strong in her brown protein filaments, as he looped an arm around her waist protectively.
That was a mistake.
She awoke immediately, breathing stopping all together as she stiffened spontaneously at the presence. She knew it wasn't Wilson. Wilson, when he slept in her bed to make her feel more secure in the past days, never touched her.
This was someone else and her eyes widened in realisation, staring at the expensive material of the backrest of the couch. Could it be…? No one else can get up here. He made sure of that. But how is this possible? She swallowed, tongue thick and dry in her mouth, "Megatron?"
"Shhhh," He answered, voice similar enough that she recognized him, "sleep." An enormous hand stroked down her hip, touch too real to come from a dream.
And too sensual to ignore.
"You are incredibly pretty, little femme," he purred into her audio. His servo went back up, this time rubbing her belly before going back down. To his content she stayed where she was, submissive to his touch.
Her conqueror, the alien that had defeated her, was spooning her with a very large human form, whispering in her ear and touching her thighs. Doom washed over her, the threat of being raped making her throat capable of only screaming and sobbing, begs making their way out in jumbled sentences. Why her? Why? What had she done to draw his attention to her, to make him fixate on her person? There were far more beautiful human women if what he wanted was a toy. Why didn't he just kill her?
His knee-jerk reaction was to wrap his frightened mate in his arms, holding her tightly to him.
She couldn't move, couldn't fight the strong body behind her. She was at his complete mercy. "Please," her sobs choked her words, tears trekking down her face, "don't do this to me."
"Don't rape me." His spark broke at her words. His Queen still feared him.
The body holding her vanished, a fact that she gave no thought to as she curled under her blankets in the stressful aftermath.
Eleanor did not see the massive mech rise from his resting place, her covers too thick to allow the red light of his optics to reach her.
She froze as massive fingers tore back the couch's blankets and picked her up, a whimper coming from her throat of its own accord. His face did not soften as he raised her to it, regarding her with those massive red orbs.
He was sudden when he spoke again, making her jump. "What must I do to prove that it is not my intention to harm you?" She avoided his slow approach and scooted further from his finger, towards the end of his servo, her face still glistening with tears. When she ran out of room she ducked and then curled into a tight shaking ball, sad little cries coming from within. "Oh sweetspark, there must be a way. No one will harm you again, not with how I can protect you." He touched her back, stroking as lightly as he could along the tiny, squishy spine. She did not relax, but he kept his tender petting and continued his ministrations until the cries ceased and the shakes stopped. When he removed his digit she peeked up curiously to glance around, making him laugh at her sudden relaxation. That human had given him good advice after all.
Another mistake. After the first few pets she had begun to trust that he wouldn't hurt her, at least in that moment, and her overstressed body took the opportunity to relax. Immediately, upon hearing that chuckle and feeling the deepness of it, her muscles stiffened and her mind was back under the influence of adrenaline. Had he finally caught her off-guard and was rolling in his victory? Had getting her to lower her guard been a trap, a precursor to some cruel scare? She didn't know, but her body didn't care.
Her muscles hardened and started quivering again, her body tense and taut like a band about to snap. Her whimpers did not come back but she did start trying to avoid him again, rushing back and forth in his hand. She did not expect it to tilt as his frustration mounted.
Annoyed that she was skittish again when she had relaxed before, he growled and tilted his servo so that she was rolled into the waiting one below. Quickly he moved to grasp her in a fist, only her helm and shoulders visible from within the confines of his servo.
He was going to crush her. That deep, thundering growl said so. "P-please," she stuttered, squirming in her tight restraints, desperate. "I don't w-want to d-die. Please."
She thought that he was going to hurt her, that small, adorable little voice shaking so horribly as she begged for her life. This, so soon after she had assumed he was going to rape her, his helpless and so adorable mate. He cycled a slow vent, calming his annoyance and regarding her wide, tiny optics in consideration of his options.
Eleanor shut her eyes in terror as he raised a finger towards her, her lungs in constant movement as she neared hyperventilation. She was not expecting his touch to be kind, gentle, and light as he made it.
Shhh, little one. He petted her helm, proving himself to her. It seemed to be working again and her body was starting to soften a little, her vents slowing as her organic spark relaxed its heavy pulsing. What else had the human suggested?
Talking to her.
"There you are," he breathed, smiling as she didn't flinch at the sound of his voice, "It's much nicer this way, yes?"
She didn't reply, still in his servo. "That's a good little femme," he purred in Cybertronian, aware now that such comments would alarm her. She wriggled, but not in desperation as she had before. Perhaps his grip was a little tight - that he could easily remedy.
She gasped in a deep breath as the pressure on her lungs went away, allowing him to lie her down in his palm. I don't think he's going to hurt you, at least not physically, Wilson had said.
He was petting her on her head still, even though the rest of her was exposed. Perhaps Wilson was right. Maybe he didn't want her to be hurt. He had immediately left her alone when she had mentioned rape.
But what, then, did he want? He treated her like a pet and a… consort at the same time.
She calmed, quiet and relaxed. "What do you want from me?" She breathed quietly, so small that he almost didn't hear her.
He couldn't tell her his intentions. Not after how she had reacted to his presence in her berth. "You are…"
She stared up at him blankly. Surely a chaste compliment would only further him with her? "...such a fascinating and wonderful creature, one worth keeping." He couldn't believe the sappy quality of his words, but his spark stopped pulsing in anticipation of her response.
Her stomach clenched at the degradation. She was an animal to him. She should have guessed. What else could the treats and petting mean? She might as well have been a hamster or guinea pig.
"So a pet." Eleanor said matter-of-factly, dread and humiliation and anger mixing beneath the surface of her acceptance. She was frozen again. Serious.
"No. Never an animal." She didn't look as though she believed him, relief not making an appearance at all.
"Then what am I?"
She was making it hard for him to avoid the truth, but he had no choice. Megatron would not make her panic by telling her what he wanted her for. She didn't trust him yet, and only then could his intentions come forth. "You shall see," was the only answer he had for her as he set her back down in her little nest, his fingers managing to pinch the coverings and wrap them over her.
"Now sleep." Recharge well, precious Queen. "I will leave you." As much as it annoyed him that his mate couldn't recharge in his evidently menacing presence, nothing could be done now. It was best to leave her alone.
He had work to do, as always.
Wilson hid himself in the shadows of his apartment, the thought of what he had just seen and the knowledge of what the titanic monster wanted with his President making him ill. How long could he keep what he knew secret for his President's well-being? How long before it crossed the line from safeguarding to treason?
Stay tuned for Part Two!
