Unexpected Love Two

Nearing his quarters, a curious feeling began to invade Megatron's cruelly logical processor. What was wrong with his pet? Shouldn't he have woken up by now? Of course, this was the human's first time having his processor read, so he would have passed out, but for so long?

It was only when he entered his quarters and locked the door that Megatron allowed his fear to show. He began to scan the human. He could tell his heart was beating and that he was breathing normally. Finally managing to relax, Megatron noticed for the first time how the boy smelled. The slaves were washed before they were presented, but evidently not very well. After all, the slave masters expected the slaves to be looked over, not closely examined. A grimace washed over the Tyrant's face. Sam would need a bath, new, better fitting clothes, food, and a place for waste disposal. He gave orders already, but the execution of them would take time. For now, he needed to bathe his new pet, and turned his consideration to how. He laid his pet back on the pillow and let him sleep, absently straightening his neck as he did so, not noticing that it moved oddly. Now, where would he bath the boy? The water pressure in his washrack was too high and might damage him. He would need soap suitable for the boy's skin, better than the slave camps provided if possible.

Other mechs had human pets. He contacted a few and asked some questions. He was surprised at the response and the supplies. Then he realized that until today, mechs keeping human pets were considered soft. If the master had one, the practice was sanctioned, and they could be more open about protecting their property. He left, coming back soon after with bundles in his subspace.

Well, he had the clothes, decently soft towels and blankets, and cleaning supplies. The human was still sleeping heavily. His neck did not wobble when Megatron picked him up and took him to the washrack shelf and the large metal bowl he picked up. It took him several adjustments to find a temperature suitable for the human. Now came the part Megatron had been dreading… undressing the human. What concerned him was the sinking feeling he was going to enjoy this more then he should.

He reached for the human's shirt. As his fingertips grazed the thin material Sam suddenly tensed. Megatron paused for a moment. What would happen if he woke the human up before he was done washing him? He did not want the boy to panic, thinking Megatron wanted what Fornix did.

Megatron started again, trying to remove the cloth as gently as he could. In the process, it tore in his claws. After a moment of staring, he sighed. Well, he had new clothes. It didn't matter if these were destroyed. He tore the rest of clothes off with his claws and considered how to bath him without drowning him by mistake. After a moment's thought, he reached for the human. Warm metal grazed over cool flesh. He was unprepared for the sensation of the boy's skin. He grimaced at the softness he was feeling under his claws. No wonder so many of his men called humans 'fleshbags'. He placed the human on his palm, and watched him for a moment. The boy did not protest or even wake. He just slept on.

Gently, Megatron lowered the human into the water. He twitched violently at the coldness, but Sam didn't seem to mind the temperature. In fact, he relaxed. Pulling his pet out of the water, Megatron poked his claw into the bar of soap, put it in the water, and ran it over the boy's skin. Yes, that worked. A small hand smacked his finger. Megatron pulled away. Sam twitched, eyes fluttering, before he rolled over onto his belly. There was a strange reaction at one point, which went away when he moved to a different area. Curious, he explored what areas provoked that reaction, until he realized what the reaction was and was amused. He continued to wash the human, watching out for more of those sensitive spots, of which there seemed to be many. Finally, he finished and dried the boy carefully on the soft human sized towels. Well, that was actually pleasant. He found he enjoyed the softness of the pet's skin, now that the smell was gone.

Now came the task of redressing Sam. It took him several tries to figure out how to maneuver his pet and his new armor without waking him or tearing the fragile material to shreds. Still, Megatron had to admit, Sam looked more like a proper pet in black than he did in the colorless, shapeless bags he'd been wearing before. He then attached the soft collar that signified that this human was a pet and not a normal work slave, making sure that it was tight enough to stay on but not so tight it would hurt.

Megatron scooped up the now better looking and smelling pet and carried him into his office. Holding the human as gently as he could in one hand, he pulled the blankets out of his subspace pocket and arranged them as best he could on his desk. It wasn't much of a berth, but it would do until his orders were acted on.

Setting Sam down, Megatron turned his desk light on to a low setting and left the room. When he was getting bathing supplies, he forgot about the human fuel that his new pet would need. Sending another com, he left to find out what was available.

Sam's fingers twitched. Brown eyes slowly opened, then immediately shut again. His head and neck were sore, and there was a fiercely bright light shining nearby. He put his arm over his eyes, but to no avail. He rolled over onto his stomach, but that still didn't help. He kept rolling until he came under the shade of something hard and heavy. Then, he was finally able to open his eyes and look around. He was careful not to look at the lamp attached to the wall. The light it was letting off was like the sun, only not as hot and vaguely colored blue. What was it with Cybertronians and the color blue?

As his eyes adjusted to the brightness, Sam suddenly realized he was hiding under a pile of electronic pads, with a large pen on top of those and something like a clock in front of that. Actually, the whole area seemed to be a very large desk.

Megatron found him, didn't he? Well, if Megatron had any idea of who he truly was, he would be in a cage in some research Decepticon's lab, not on Megatron's desk. Sam sat up as gently as he could. He felt like Megatron had knocked him off that building again. He remembered twisting his neck. So he'd broken his neck again, only to have it healed, again. At least he could breathe without serious back pain. His stomach growled. Sam put his hand on it, frowning. Where was Megatron? How was he going to explain hunger to him without being able to talk? Was he still going to get that gray mush they served at the camps? And why was his hair wet?

Brushing a strand of wet white hair from his eyes, Sam finally noticed his new clothes. He looked down at himself. He was dressed in black silk pants and a black silk sleeveless shirt. Something was around his neck. He touched it, and felt soft leather, with a hook at the back. Oh shit, that couldn't be good. Was this a collar? He remembered that at one point the slaves wore metal collars to distinguish them from free humans. The practice stopped when there were no more free humans anywhere in the world. Well, he would find out what was going on soon enough. In his very long life, Sam learned to take problems as they arrived if there was nothing he could do about them.

Curling up on the metal surface on his stomach, Sam felt good for the first time in a long time. He was clean-and how had that happened?- he was dressed in clean clothes, even if they looked like pajamas from his teen life, and he was pleasantly warm. It was almost ridiculous. Here he was, on Megatron's desk, with an aching neck and an empty stomach, and he actually didn't feel all that bad. Had he been drugged, or was he just happy to be clean and in clean clothes?

At what point Sam fell asleep, he wasn't sure. All he was aware of was scooting out into the light of the blue-tinted lamp to get warmer. Then he heard something tapping in front of him. Looking up with squinted eyes, he saw to brilliant red lights, brighter than even the lamp. Sam bolted straight up, backing away from Megatron. A smirk was curled over the Tyrant's face- he seemed quite amused by his new slave's reaction. Then, it faded into a soft smile that looked disturbingly good on his face.

"Sorry, I suppose I shouldn't have woken you up like that. I know you must be hungry." Megatron… was apologizing to him? And… food? Was he going to get something other than the slop they served at the slave camps? The idea of real food made his mouth water and his stomach ache. To his surprise, he found canned products being placed in front of him. The names were the same as the ones he grew up with. Most of the food was in metal cans- fruit cocktail, some strange kind of bean, mixed nuts, and soup. The other foods were in some strange kind of see-through containers- beef jerky, energy bars, instant flavor mix, and of course, large plastic bottles filled with water. Where did the Decepticon leader get all this stuff?

"Several of my more clever soldiers realized that the energy substances we give your kind aren't as suitable for pets as they are for common work slaves," Megatron said from above him. "They've stored a good portion of this continent's food supply in mass subspace pockets. The food is safe. I've checked." He checked? Apparently he meant more to the monster than he expected, if Megatron cared about what he ate.

Wait a minute, pets? Well, that would explain the collar. Megatron watched him for a while, waiting for something. Sam waited for permission to eat. Finally, the Decepticon leader said, "What's wrong? Can't you figure out how to get into the stuff?"

Thanks for the hint, Sam thought. If he just dove in, Megatron would wonder how he knew what to do. He made a show of figuring out the pull-top can, sniffed at the contents as though they were new to him, and found a spoon in one of the containers. He sampled the food carefully, as though he did not know what to expect. Then he felt free to shovel it in. As a result, he finished the fruit cocktail in record time. Wisely he decided that he better eat something that took effort or he would make himself sick, so he chose the beef jerky. The first bite was hot and spicy, and he made a face. To his surprise, Megatron laughed at the look on his face. Sam ate more, taking his time to chew and sip. He was not used to eating much, and it didn't take long for him to get full. He piled the food near him, where he could get to it quickly, and looked up to see Megatron watching him.

"You don't need to hoard it," his new master told him. "I'll get you more when you need it." Sam nodded and looked down respectfully. A light touch brought his head back up. Did Megatron want to say something? Sam tried a smile.

A long sigh came from the Decepticon's vents. "You remind me of a boy I knew vorns ago." Sam nodded, his look attentive. Megatron made a humming noise. "Well, do you know, boy, I can talk to you, can't I, and there's no one you can tell what I say. Convenient, isn't it?" Sam considered the idea and shrugged. Megatron laughed. "Let me tell you a story then."

Sam listened as Megatron began, "Many vorns ago, I came to this world looking for the All-Spark-" Megatron talked about being frozen, of realizing that he was being moved from the ice, but never allowed to thaw enough to boot all of his systems before he was frozen again. Several times his awareness surfaced, only to go back into stasis when he was refrozen. He spoke in rage about his body being invaded for technology. After a time, he talked about the complete unthawing and the battle of Mission City, when his conquest of Earth began.

"Those idiots gave the All-Spark to the boy so that he could get it to humans to hide. He actually made it to the top of the building and was about to give it to the humans in the helicopter when Starscream shot it from the sky. He crawled into some decorative thing on the roof with the All-Spark, and I told him that I would make him my pet if he gave me the Cube. He defied me. That took courage. I would have taken him if he's survived. He would have been a challenge to tame."

Sam kept his expression attentive, managing to hide the shock at that statement.

"Of course, he had black hair, not white, and he could speak. I want to know who took your vocalizer, my little one. Something tells me that the mech was into something I would want to know about. But that is for the future. Anyway, I struck the decoration, only to see it fall down the building. The boy fell into Optimus Prime's hand, and he died. I remember seeing him cough blood and his eyes glaze in death. I regretted that. "Megatron sighed. "Optimus Prime took the boy and the All-Spark away. I found them later. Optimus put the All-Spark in his spark. How could I have such a fool for my brother! I found the boy's body still in his hand."

His face hardened. "The others are still my prisoners. When we find more Autobots, I throw them in with the rest. There are jobs humans can't do; alt forms they can take that are useful. Only one of them managed to get away-blast that Ironhide to the pits! They are isolated from humans and my other Decepticons. I visit sometimes. Sooner or later they will bend to me willingly." Sam doubted that and felt a pang for Bumblebee. He wondered if they were better off than he was.

"Sometimes I wonder if we're handling the humans the way we should, though. I've had my revenge on their ancestors. Humans are tamed now, they know their place. We might start training them for more detailed jobs without worrying about a rebellion. Sooner or later we need to start going back into space and looking for the remaining Autobots and Decepticons. We need to rebuild our kind. Killing out the human race would be a stupid waste of resources. "

Now, that did not sound like the Megatron he remembered. At the same time, anything that would improve the slave's conditions would be a step in the right direction. With cautious movements, Sam reached out and touched Megatron's massive forearm. Megatron immediately looked down at him, and as a response to his stunned look, Sam smiled. Megatron bought it, smiling that creepy-soft smile, and before Sam could even try to stop him, scooped him up and placed him on what looked like a shelf. Then Sam found something being held carefully in his face.

"I suppose I shouldn't have, but I managed to grab this for you. I don't want you getting bored, after all." Megatron said. "I know you can't read, but it has a lot of pictures." Sam carefully reached out and grabbed the graphic novel: "The War of the Worlds by H. G. Wells."

How weird was Megatron to give him a book about an alien invasion? Did he have no idea what this was about? Sam looked up into Megatron's face to see if he could spot any sense of irony in his optics. There was none. Megatron really had no idea what he was giving him. Oh well, his loss. Sam opened the book and began to read.

At some point, he must have dozed off again, because he woke to movement. He pushed up and rubbed his eyes, only to clutch at the ground as it started to move. Why the hell did Megatron think putting him on his shoulder was a good idea? Without apparently noticing, the Tyrant put a hand up to keep Sam from falling off, and headed towards the door. Panic slowly crept through the human's body. Oh no, please! Not more Decepticons!

When he heard the knock, Megatron was relieved. It had just occurred to him that organics had to rid themselves of waste somewhat more often than mechs did, and he had no idea what the signs of that need was, nor any desire to deal with unexpected puddles on his floor-or desk- or shelf for that matter. The Constructicons already warned him via com that they were coming, and that they would bang on the door when they arrived. Megatron picked up his pet-sleeping again?- and set him on his shoulder as he answered. On the way to the door, the human woke. Megatron put a steadying hand on him as he opened the door.

In came Scrapper, already grumbling that this was a petty job that did not need his expertise and any drone could have done it. He shut up at Megatron's glare, before their attention went to his pet. The little one scooted until he was against Megatron's neck, clutching at the seams in the armor with all his might. Megatron could feel his quick breathing and the increased heartbeat. Megatron stroked his back gently with his thumb as he walked Scrapper into his private quarters, and the little one calmed. As they spoke, the pet shifted to sit on his shoulder and watch the Construction as the mechs discussed what the human would need. "I need a place for him to stay when I cannot have him near me," Megatron said.

"Hmm," Scrapper said thoughtfully. "I let my female, Yellowhair, have free run in my quarters, but she's the offspring of another pet and knows how to behave. You took this one from the slave camps, Master?"

"Yes," Megatron said. "He resembles the boy who ran off with the Cube on Prime's order and died in his hands. I call him Sam after that youngling."

"Ah," Scrapper said, taking a closer look at the boy. "Wondered why he was so shy. He'll take a while to get used to mechs being around all the time, master. Hook got one, Spark, from the camps who was bright enough to help him with wiring, and he hid every time he saw a strange mech for a time. Slept a lot, too, for the first few weeks." Megatron nodded, not showing the relief over hearing that news.

In the meantime, Sam began to squirm. To the Decepticon leader's relief and gratitude, Scrapper excused himself and returned with an odd-looking device that had a hole in a human-size seat. "Look here, Sam, this is a waste disposal," he said as he placed it on the floor against the wall. Megatron put Sam down and without hesitation he went to the odd device and used it. "That's a bright one!" Scrapper exclaimed. "My Yellowhair had to show Spark what to do. Poor thing lubricated on the disposal and had to clean up the mess."

Megatron put Sam on the berth when he finished releasing his waste. "Stay here while we talk," he commanded. Sam nodded, though he glanced at Scrapper without meeting that mech's gaze, as was proper with a slave. Scrapper frowned, and Sam tensed.

"Speak respectfully to your master," he scolded.

"Sam is mute," Megatron told him, knowing that the word would spread now. The Decepticon leader chose Scrapper because he and the other Constructicons had pets and because he was a massive gossip. Between that gossip and the announcements he made earlier, Sam should be safe in his quarters with some reasonable precautions.