Happy New Year! Sorry I spent almost a month working on an update for this, but I wanted it to be good. :)

Implied Megatron/Starscream. More warnings for robots being ignorant about the care of humans.

Alternate Beginning - Part Two

There were days where she felt as though she would never stop crying. Days where no specific reason would arise, but she just felt the need to weep. Her world was collapsing around her, and she didn't know what to do about it. She didn't know that she could do anything about it. Even though her heart desired so strongly to just scream without hindrance, to hear it echo down the empty city streets and hang in the cool fall air, to spare Wilson she had muffled it with a pillow.

That was until Megatron had taken him away. The robot had figured out that he was visiting her and scooped him right out of his apartment, making sure that she saw him curl his enormous hand around her last hope. He wanted her to watch as her bodyguard was taken away, her final shred of normalcy vanishing down Park Avenue clasped in a titanic charcoal fist.

She didn't think he was dead, but she didn't know anymore. That had been at least a week ago now. And Lord knew that she didn't even want to open another can of worms with worrying about Natalie. Please be alright, both of you.

You were all the family I had left.

The world outside New York was silent, and she never saw anyone or anything but Megatron prowling the streets. No stray dogs. No half-starved cats. No pesky pigeons. The trees, on these days, were always silent. It was as if she and Megatron were the only beings left alive. On occasion she wondered what had happened and why she neither saw nor heard anything. It had been a few weeks since her kidnapping, by her count on a tattered paper calendar. She had thought that she would have seen a sign by now.

No. Nothing.

Tears streamed down her face, a dreary combination of pain, stress, and worry, with just a twinge of dread. Countless lay dead in the rubble around her, and countless more were forever changed as the alien robots had taken over Lord-knows how much land. Would they continue to slaughter? Or was there another atrocity, another fate, in store for her people? An icy bolt hit her heart on this particular day, making her pause and clench in shock.

In all honesty, she was surprised that a nuclear bomb hadn't been dropped by someone to stop Megatron. It would have made sense.

Little did she know that Megatron had anticipated such a move and stopped it before it could kill his darling mate. His heavy order had come down and she was kept safe, not even sensing that she had been in imminent danger. However, Eleanor did know, with every microscopic fibre of her being, that what he wanted with her was potentially malicious.

Probably very malicious.

It made no sense to keep her alive. With nothing to do but stare at the ruins and play the same mindless games, she would wonder, Why am I here? Why does my jailer continue to feed me and contribute to my existence? The pillow was damp against the skin of her face, soaked thoroughly with tears. When will he kill me? Will Wilson go first, or will I?

Why is he playing with me like this? Why must I allow him to treat me like a toy?

Eleanor did not dare admit it to herself, but deep within the dark confines of the most hidden part of her mind, she knew that she didn't want to know the answers to her mind's helpless ramblings.

Laserbeak monitored dutifully, his orders now to watch the human for his master. The picture was always clear, far too clear for Megatron's liking. He knew that this leaking, called "crying", was normal among humans, especially with females. He found that it served a valid purpose, that it helped relieve stress and show fear. This reason alone made his spark feel something it hadn't in ages, but the other factor also worried him.

Crying, as his research said, was also a way to appear more vulnerable and submissive to an attacker. Hence why she had started leaking when he had decided to cuddle with her in her berth.

His mate thought that he was a threat. Even after all of his displays that he was her protector and her provider, she was weeping in his absence. He visited her more, but all Laserbeak showed him was her crying increasing.

Anger was starting to take the place of his sadness. He went to Wilson for advice more and more often, but little seemed to be working. Perhaps it was not enough to spend tiny moments with her and bring her fuel.

Megatron shut off the datapad and clasped his chin in thought, staring ahead at the star charts cast above his desk aboard the Nemesis. He wouldn't start the process to cyberform her until she trusted him, at least a little. He couldn't even speak to Soundwave and Shockwave about his plans until she was less uneasy around him.

Wilson had suggested as much when he had said that she was emotionally fragile at the moment. Any sudden changes, the human had been clear to enunciate, could not be made now. Therefore if she was uncomfortable with himself, he could not introduce her to others that had the potential to harm her, at least from her perspective. She would have to trust his ability to protect her before she was sure enough to see other mechs.

If it could have been his way, Megatron would have preferred that she meet no one at all - that he could lock her away within his sparkchamber to keep her familiar and trusting only in him.

He purred at the thought of his face being the only one she would see, his touch all she would ever feel, his voice the only one she would hear. An idealistic and unfulfillable fantasy, but those were the best kind; a true delicacy.

Megatron shook himself, aware now of his arousal and disgusted that he had let his own mind wander. Perhaps, if all she knew was his gentleness, she could see his strength at its finest to allow her comparison. She would physically see that he had the ability to kill her, but chose not to.

Perfect.


Starscream was not stupid, only unlucky. One could not have risen to Air Commander under Megatron if they were the former, but it just so happened that the Seeker gave Megatron the opportunity the warlord had been waiting days for.

Unlucky indeed.

As soon as he had learned that his trinemate had taken a human at Megatron's command, the red and blue Seeker was intrigued. Thundercracker had given him the details, albeit reluctantly, informing his trine leader that the only world leader that wasn't terminated was last seen being held by Megatron.

The treacherous Seeker saw an opportunity, a glimmer at the end of the dark tunnel that was Megatron's leadership. If he could find this human and it was still alive, he had a reason to launch a coup that would earn the support of his fellow Decepticons.

For cycles he had plotted, carefully scouring the city and trying his hardest to avoid probing by Soundwave. The human was in the city somewhere. He was sure of it. Laserbeak, unluckily for Starscream, was across the park when the traitorous jet found her.

Megatron, in the same unfortunate token, was watching his mate eat at the time (it was such an alarmingly rare sight, but extremely adorable) and considering reasons for her loss of interest in the food. There was a puzzling variety at the stores he had raided - perhaps she didn't like what he was giving her? Did males have different diets and fuel types than females? Had he been giving her sustenance that was not meant for her? Maybe taking her to one of those places would be best so that she could choose what she preferred.

He had researched other causes of appetite loss on the human networks, but all the results had given him was a crash in the processor. Causes of loss of appetite include pregnancy, metabolic problems, chronic liver disease, COPD, dementia, HIV, hepatitis, hypothyroidism, chronic kidney failure, heart failure, cocaine, heroin, speed, chemotherapy, morphine, codeine, and antibiotics. He was not a medic for his own kind, though he had once wished to be, and he didn't want to take her to Hook if he had just been bringing her the wrong feed. Megatron would save the picky Constructicon for life-threatening situations only for the time being.

An even more worrisome sight than his mate starving herself was his treacherous second creeping towards her nest. The datapad clattered to the desk as he jolted upwards and strode out the door. "Starscream! Why are you not present in Command?" he commed, now on his way to the space bridge of the Nemesis. There was no reply.

Eleanor knew that if Megatron didn't kill her, the food he gave her would. All he ever seemed to bring was considered "junk food." She had tried to ration out the few canned fruits and vegetables in the apartment, but all she had left after an estimated month was one can of pumpkin filling.

She didn't eat much anyway. Stress had steadily worn her appetite down like sandpaper on paint. Even if she was eating, she wouldn't complain and risk him denying her food at all.

Familiar, enormous, crashing footsteps sounded in the distance. The birds that had returned to Central Park across the ruined street silenced. The sound of Megatron getting closer, gradually eclipsing the sound of a breeze through the trees, was all she heard.

Eleanor set aside the half-eaten candy bar and made as if to move from the table when all of the robots changed forms. Dozens of pairs of red eyes looked at her in a threat to stay where she was. To obey their - and hers, she realised with a sad twinge of the gut - Master. She knew that to disobey meant painful shocks to her legs, tiny needles poking holes in her ill-fitting, stolen pants to deliver electricity into her body.

The closer those footsteps got, however, the more the sounded less and less like Megatron's. They were lighter, quicker, less like a giant's heavy-footed stomps and more like a cat's quick prowling.

Another robot? By the time she noticed, it was too late.

Its head was black, drawing more attention to the massive red protrusions that jutted up from its shoulders. A form shorter than Megatron's cast a shadow in the golden evening light of early winter, red eyes narrowed as a smirk of malicious victory twisted its metal mouth.

"Who are you?" She dared to whisper, hoping that this one also spoke English as she clutched her chair. When she thought about it now, it seemed odd that Megatron had. If only the President had known why the giant mech had been so careful.

And that he had long left the datapad on his desk, running to rescue her. Megatron had seen how Starscream could tear humans apart - he himself knew how easily they crushed under one's ped. Eleanor would not meet the same cruel fate. The thought alone made his spark constrict and flare.

The smirk grew wider as the robot answered her. She had not expected it to speak English, but the screechy quality of its voice arguably surprised her more. The woman had assumed that their tones would be the same, given that they were robots.

Regardless, she had to admit that she perferred Megatron's to this.

"I have found you," it hissed. "I must thank you, little femme."

That word again. Megatron had used it once or twice in his deep timbre. It must been an equivalent of 'female.' "I don't understand."

"Because of you, Megatron will fall as leader of the Decepticons and I, Starscream, will take his place." It had switched to their language inexplicably, and she didn't like it. When Megatron would talk to her in his tongue, it was always in a slow and deliberate tone. This robot, though, sneered his words. Her heart pounded in her ears, panic flooding her brain's neurons as adrenaline was pumped into her veins. She was still nervous around Megatron, but she hadn't been this terrified since he had kidnapped her.

That black hand inched towards her like the head of snake, malicious and on the hunt, as the monster it was attached to continued to chatter away.

Why didn't it kill her already? She was tired of this game. The more she thought about it, though, the more she wanted to escape, which in turn only led to more thoughts of the futility of it all. She was a toy to these beings, a living doll to dress, to feed, and to nurture; to strip, to starve, and to torture. She had no say, but she did have a voice.

"Why are you doing this?" Eleanor pleaded, despising the fearful tonality in her voice even after weeks of being at Megatron's mercy. Powerless even to her own instincts, it seemed.

Soundwave, being the loyal mech he was, wondered but did not question why his typically cool leader was so concerned as to be in such a hurry. Though Megatron was never a mech to waste time, he never rushed. The tapedeck knew that Laserbeak was surveilling a human for his master, but it escaped him as to why.

Perhaps, he surmised, it was a toy. To properly demonstrate that he was in control, he needed to keep it from Starscream, the traitorous second that constantly held a blaster to the back of his Commander. Interest piqued, he turned from his console to pick up on Laserbeak's feed.

Indeed. Just as he had believed.

Right as the hand was about to grab her, something like the crashing of a massive waterfall was followed by pounding, colossal footfalls. She couldn't process it, between the hand and the sounds, and before she knew it a blur of gun metal grey hit the jet like a gigantic freight train would a obstructive car. He didn't stop; he just kept going, as if the other figure hadn't been there at all.

The crash made her cover her ears and close her eyes, dust and insulation shaken from the building itself in the quake that nearly threw her off her feet. The most horrible sound was not that of significant debris falling from her shelter, or even that of asphalt being crunched to dust.

The clang! followed by the terrible, horrible, squeals of metal on metal felt like screwdrivers being drilled into both of her ears. Despite this, when she opened her eyes, she couldn't help but creep to the open wall. She didn't know if it was stupidity or just plain curiosity, but somehow Eleanor found herself on the edge, hands gripping rough exterior.

Megatron had the other robot pinned to the ground with one hand on its neck. The other was raised up, coiled behind him and ready to punch. She could see other limbs more clearly now, appendages that looked like wings.

The same hand that had gently pet her came down across the other robot's face with terrifying speed and strength. Black paint and pieces came away from the jet's mouth as Megatron yelled in their language.

What is this?

Megatron, aware that his mate was watching, stood from the crushed street and took Starscream with him. Eleanor gasped as the jet was lifted in a single hand, held up by that one titanic arm, and covered her mouth as Megatron bent over and threw it into the street again.

The android cried out as furious clangs commenced, blow after blow caving in the metal of its torso. Metal continued to buckle and terrible cracks echoed up to her as the cockpit glass felt the indirect impacts of Megatron's powerful hands.

What is this?

Starscream gagged as his Master plucked him back up from the fleshlings' filthy road, servos scrabbling ineffectually at the Emperor's grip. He had his blasters, but he dared not use them. He knew from experience that they would only infuriate him further.

"Trying to protect your disgusting little pet?" He spat against his better judgement. Why was Megatron so bent on keeping it safe? He didn't know what a healthy human looked like, but that leader wasn't hurt and it had spent at least a deca-cycle under the heavy servo of Megatron.

"No," Megatron seethed, "Trying to punish my foolish traitor of a second in command." He added within his own furious mind, and impress my mate. He hooked another blow into Starscream's side, this time grabbing armor and peeling it back.

Eleanor was impressed, but she was leaning towards the horrified end of the scale. This is what… is what... he could do to… me.

That is what this is. He wants to scare me more, doesn't he?

Well, I won't play this game.

Megatron flared his plating and roared in the pained faceplates of his Air Commander, gnashing denta for Eleanor's benefit, though Starscream's optics were shuttered at this point. A wing flicked, catching his attention.

His servo curled around the edge of the light, sensor-packed tip, thumb stroking it mockingly, before clenching forcefully. Starscream howled, having expected it and barely getting out a beg before white-hot pain flashed up his wing and errors flooded his display. The sensation of crushing wing metal in this manner was ages-old to the tyrant, almost as old as the war itself, but this time it felt different. He felt far more powerful this time, his frame surging with energy. Eleanor was watching, and he finally named the feeling.

Pride.

His conquest had just watched him pummel another mech into the street, witnessed his fierceness and murderous capabilities in the metaphorical flesh. Surely, since she had seen nothing but gentleness on his part, this would further himself with her. She had a sense now that his affection, his protection, was exclusive.

Eleanor, however, involuntarily replayed the sight of him, her kidnapper and keeper, grabing an enormous wing in a single hand and crumpling it as if it was tin foil. Her mind laughed hysterically, a soundtrack to the gruesome scene. No wonder he could backhand entire military jets, walk through fire like air, and withstand bullets like rain.

She choked back a sob of hopelessness, but then remembered the game.

His domination of Starscream was not quite complete, however, but this was all she could see. Wilson had said that she would be worried about rape, and the sight of him merging with Starscream would appear as exactly that if one had no knowledge of Decepticon dynamics. "You know what happens next," he growled at the gasping, defeated jet.

Starscream, as best as he was able with his neck engulfed, nodded in defeat. "Is this why you rebel, Starscream? To get this?" Megatron laughed, startling Eleanor, and walked down the street. It would take only a few kliks to finish putting Starscream in his place, and then he would return to visit his mate and observe his effect.

Best to give her a few minutes to fully comprehend his might, but Laserbeak should continue to watch her in case another dared try to touch what was his. He simply sent a ping and resumed his smirk at Starscream. His second in command, true to form, smirked back and wriggled his hips as Megatron continued to dangle him.

Typical; getting beaten to a pulp a klik ago and now intent on getting fragged.

His mate's bodyguard could be just as testy as Starscream, but Megatron wasn't going to punish him for that. He accepted that Wilson only wanted to protect her, but he didn't understand yet that he wasn't a threat.

Or the male doesn't believe that I will be a suitable mate.

Megatron closed the sequence to comm. Soundwave for a ground bridge and instead continued his walk. Perhaps, if Wilson got a display of his more… intimate abilities he would improve his standing in the optics of the male. If nothing else, respect for his strength would be impossible for the human to avoid.

Yes, showing the human that his femme would be… taken care of would make things far easier.


What Eleanor had just seen must have been a power play. Otherwise, it just didn't make sense. How would Megatron have known? What were the odds of him arriving just as that other robot was about to snatch her up?

The reaction didn't make sense either. Why was he so angry?

The sight had been beyond anything she was capable of imagining, the clangs and screeches still ringing in her ears. Megatron's strength… still amazed her, the memory of the afternoon sun gleaming behind him and shining off his metal was deceptive, depicting him as the knight rather than the monster. She had already seen him destroy with ease, why was this such a surprise?

She went back, steps and hands shaking, to the table. The dark wood grain became extremely fascinating beneath its perfect, expensive finish. In the distance, she heard yells and more clangs. Megatron must have continued his beating elsewhere.

Something whistled through the air and hit the open edge of the apartment with a crash.

The President fell out of her chair in shock, heart hammering all over again when she saw what greeted her. It was the type of thing out of a nightmare, with long, black wings and a head like a vulture. Red eyes - how she was sick of red eyes - peered at her curiously. It seemed to be perching with its feet clasping the edge of the apartment, in much the way a bat might. The same symbol that was emblazoned on Megatron's chest was displayed prominently on the center of its head.

She was done with robots that she didn't know. She was done with dealing with robots period. She turned to leave, briskling making for the door to the private hallway to find sanctuary in another room of the spacious apartment.

Then, it trilled at her. Low, quiet, happy-sounding. Dare she think it?

Cute. She didn't remember seeing this one on any of the footage. Its head hung low as it regarded her, and it trilled again. It was just a bird, a harmless creature, even if it was taller than she was.

Laserbeak had changed his cameras to better follow his leader's orders, carefully concealing the one on his helm and trading it for footage from his optics. The human that Megatron was so intrigued with had stopped leaving at the sound of his quiet calls, a guess that paid off.

It was creeping closer, peering at him curiously. It vocalised something that he didn't understand, wet optics searching his as it took yet another step forward.

"Hello," she greeted the bird softly. Eleanor hadn't thought about these robots having pets, or animal equivalents. "I don't suppose that you understand me, do you?"

If he was going to have to sit here with nothing to do but stare at this human until he was ordered away, he might as well understand what it was saying. It would prove amusing. Using a recording, he quickly identified the human tongue it was using and downloaded the pack. While he was at it, he recognized the human as a female.

"I haven't had anyone to talk to for a week now." She murmured to herself, watching the vulture from several yards away. It hadn't attacked by now, dare she get any closer? It looked friendly, more so than Megatron and definitely more than the jet. She had always liked animals.

Laserbeak, curious and increasingly bored, trilled again. The human smiled, a remarkably Cybertronian-like expression, and came closer. She didn't appear to be damaged at all, a fact that the cassette found odd.

Eleanor stayed at a respectful distance, and the two simply regarded each other as the sun set and a final, calamitous cry came from the distance. Half of her was berating her for staying so close and not cowering, but the other part was tired of being afraid. Besides, it didn't want to hurt her. If it hadn't tried to attack by now, it was likely that it wasn't going to so long as she kept her distance. It kept making friendly noises too, each chirp lowering her guard.

Her hesitation didn't last long, and Eleanor pushed the envelope, approaching and finally touching it until she heard familiar - she was sure this time - footfalls coming down the street from the direction he and that jet had gone. They sounded relaxed, calm. The bird spooked and flew upwards, its feet breaking off bits of the rough edge of the apartment as it launched itself into flight.

Before she was ready grey metal stood before her, reflecting the dying rays of the sun. A new, overpowering, almost gasoline-and-oil smell hit her nostrils, forcing her head back as if the scent had physical force. She was sure that she would have noticed that before.

"Did Starscream injure you?" Against her better judgement, she took a step back.

Then another, and another, and another until she almost landed flat on her back on the table. Her hand flew out to catch herself, smashing what remained of the candy bar she had been picking at.

His little sweetling looked scared again, optics wide and locked on him as her grip tightened on the table behind her and she rightened herself. "I expect an answer to every question." His display hadn't impressed her?

"No, he didn't." She answered robotically, still vigilant for any signs of a black hand coming for her. There was not much she could do on her part, especially with the little demons capable of enforcing his will upon her, but there was only so much she could do against her instincts at this point.

That unexpected realisation didn't make her more scared - it actually raised anger within her. How dare he come out of nowhere and isolate her from her own race? How dare he pluck her from her own home? How dare he continue to condescend and mock her?

How dare she continue to go along and pretend that this was normal? How dare she desist from fighting back?

The President rolled her shoulders back and stalked right back up to him, feeling white-hot heat behind her eyes. Trying her best to stay intimidating while she was barefoot and in salvaged, ill-fitting clothes, she snapped, "Go away. Now. Leave me alone."

He did nothing but raise a metal brow. If she were anyone else, he would have backhanded her into the next millennia for such blatant disrespect. As her mate, however, the only reaction he had was to feel amusement and slight concern at the tiny organic's display of anger. He had never seen her lash out like this.

Pushed beyond her limits and tired from constant adrenaline rush, she curled her upper lip in an ugly, frustrated snarl, "Why are you here? Why can't I just exist in peace?" What is this, the Twilight Zone?

The entire show he had put on for her was a waste if this was her reaction. Perhaps she was simply in awe and needed more time to process his might. He was no small feat for such a little, weak thing; for this reason he would dismiss her reaction as nothing but endearing. Nevertheless, he would be having a discussion with her guard on this matter.

When Megatron returned to the Nemesis, arousal sated and dominance achieved, the first thing he did was pick up the datapad and rewind Laserbeak's footage.

The last few minutes before he had arrived she finally stepped up to Laserbeak and petted his helm, smiling in just the way Circuitsia did. For the first time he saw her organic optics holding something other than fear, a sight that had his spark purring with pleasure, but also pulsing with jealousy. Soon enough, she would smile like that for him.

Soon enough, she would smile like that for their sparklings.


It no longer got warmer during the day. It was cold, always cold, like a never-ending curse placed upon her skin and aging joints. The last time Eleanor had showered she had sworn that she would freeze - even once she was out of the frigid spray, there was no way to dry her hair without any electricity. It was a miracle that she hadn't gotten pneumonia.

That had to have been at least a week ago, and she no longer wondered when the military was coming. Eleanor worried about staying alive. She had gathered all that she could to keep herself warm at night, throwing all manner of blankets onto her bed and still shivering until exhaustion took her.

There was only so long until her hand-washed laundry wouldn't dry. What would she do then? She was already filthy, even with clean clothes. Eleanor was disgusted with her physical state - more accurately, ashamed. It hurt her spirits to see that rescue hadn't come, and almost as bad was her physical state.

On his next visit, it did not take long for Megatron to notice the smell that her frame was starting to exude. Her hair was limp and clung together in stubborn clumps. Her scent was becoming less of a fragrance and more of an odor.

He wasn't sure about why she had stopped bathing - it hadn't been a problem before this. He grabbed her up, having just given her another sample of food, and walked down the well-tramped path that he had carved for himself among the city's ruins.

Eleanor regarded her surroundings with surprise, grabbing a finger of the palm holding her to support herself. Megatron had never taken her from her spot before. The only times he had picked her up where to pet or examine her - the swaying motion made her stomach do flips, and the feeling of wind along her face made her shiver.

At the very least she had had the wits to wear gloves; she had no doubts that the hand cupping her was freezing.

Megatron was not sure of many things about humans, but he knew that they cleansed themselves in water just as Cybertronians did. Maybe his sparkmate was ill - she kept shuttering her little optics and quivering, holding her limbs close to her though he could tell that she was not afraid. She had just learned to relax enough that she was not scared out of her little helm. The infatuated warlord knew that he had waited a few million of her years to see his mate again; a few more to get her to trust him and return his affection would not be of consequence. If his progress continued slowly, but nonetheless continued, he would be pleased.

A gleam drew his attention from his human to his destination ahead. He knew the ick that came with having a dirty frame - when he was a miner and then an underdog gladiator he hadn't had frequent access to a washrack. Now he had his own in his cabin on the Nemesis, but the memory still drew disgust. He wasn't the type to obsessively polish, but he did place value on presentation. Circuitsia had as well, utilizing his washracks when she had lived with him. Eleanor likely felt terrible.

Stopping at the edge of a shipping dock that groaned beneath him, Megatron started to bend. Eleanor realised all too late what he was intent on doing and before she could protest the mech had carefully placed her in the water below. She clung fiercely to his servo at first, optics going wide and mouth opening in shock, but all it took was a good pull under and she let go, coming to the surface and gasping.

She was sure that she had never been so cold in her entire life. Even the shower she had taken a week ago was warmer than this. The rank water swirled around her as he dunked her under forcefully, not even giving her enough time to recapture breath she had lost. The second that she spent clasped in his fist lasted an eternity, liquid having seeped through her clothes to make her bones ache and her sides hurt. She felt as though the water had stolen her breath from her.

Her skin was already prickled with goosebumps as she was allowed to surface, rancid water running down her face and making its way into her mouth. Thought escaped her mind, an absence familiar to her, and she followed her instincts and tried to climb up his hand. Her sodden gloves gave her no grip even if he had allowed her to crawl up, and the metal was slick with liquid.

He dunked her under again, and it was all she could do to gasp in a breath before she was shrouded in the murky depths again. A gentle finger scrubbed at her head this time, making her head hurt even more than it already was. She was going to turn into a human popsicle if he didn't stop.

Her breath hitched, her lungs spasming as heat was wrenched from her overstressed, frozen body. She couldn't breathe. Her muscles were too cold to move and all she could manage was the smallest of shallow breaths when he pulled her out again.

Fear, unfortunately, was not a lending friend when one needed to ration their air.

Megatron was sure to gingerly rub her helm with a finger, clearing up some of the oils that her frame secreted. Eleanor was no longer thrashing, a fact that drew a flicker of a smile upon his faceplates. She was allowing him to care for her, finally trusting him to pet her helm for longer than a nanoklik. He fully submerged her several times to ensure that Eleanor was properly washed - he would settle for nothing less than perfect.

After he was sure that she was clean, Megatron lifted her fully from the water and brought her closer to his olfactory array.

The fetid scent was not something he had prepared for, his Energon rising up in his intake. Instead of his mate being cleaned, she smelled of the putrid torture chambers of the Peaceful Tyranny, of the slave camps he had instituted to reap Earth's resources. She reeked of death, refuse, and organic filth. His servo smelled of it as well, and he stooped to study the water itself. One whiff of it made him jerk his helm back and numb his olfactory sensors.

He looked back at his mate, the tiny femme curled up on her side, eyes closed, her skin white and lip components blue. She wasn't shivering - she wasn't even moving. Usually, if his sensors were on their finest setting, he could feel the small puffs of her exvents against his plating. What was floating across his armor now barely resembled one of those; he even questioned whether it was even there.

"Eleanor, what's wrong?" Her lips moved, but only barely.

He was getting frustrated, "Speak up." He had cleaned her just as humans did, sure to be careful with his fingers and her miniscule, so fragile helm.

"Cold," she muttered, deathly still in his servo. Dirty water dripped from his servo to the river below. Megatron touched a digit to her, scanning for temperature. He remembered picking her up and petting warm, supple skin that wasn't stiff nor cool.

How could he have been so careless? He had known from the beginning that she needed to be kept warm - and then he had used far too cold and also filthy water to bathe her.

His jaw gears clenched with anger as his servo curled around her protectively. He turned sharply on his heel and brought her to his chassis, directing more Energon flow to his servo to warm her up.

She barely thought about how the rocking motion of his quick pace was making her sick. The sensation of her limbs turning to stone, of the joints in her fingers locking up, and ice crystals forming in her hair consumed her consciousness.

Megatron checked his servo again, frowning at her. At least she looked more colorful again - as colorful as a human could be without paint - and she had shifted. "How do you feel, Eleanor?"

No amount of freezing cold could keep it from entering her mind, that voice that seemed to come from everywhere. Annoyance flared up in her - how dare he ask that after ignoring her protests and almost killing her?

Hell, she could still be very much dead. The charcoal metal around her was heating up, but that would be for naught if she didn't get clean, warm clothes. How could he pretend to care? She answered him with a pointed grimace and a prompt turn to face midnight alloy beneath her.

Megatron snorted a vent, restraining himself from crushing her within his servo. She needed to be warmed up further and properly cleaned, and the washracks in her own nest were his only other option for clean water.

Taking her on board the Nemesis was not feasible.

However, he could not operate her washracks. Even if he could reach them without demolishing her shelter, the controls meant for such little servos would surely be pulverized within his own grip. A not-so-subtle growl emerged from his throat as he turned quickly and snatched up a startled Wilson, continuing still down a ruined avenue.

The bodyguard swallowed, the memory of Megatron's display still too fresh in his mind, even though it must have been at least a week ago. He allowed himself a little squirm and directed all of his attention to other, closed hand. What else could possibly be in that hand, cupped so protectively, but the President? "How is she?"

My show of dominance will keep it compliant and away from my femme. It will not dare harm her. Megatron found that he liked the thought of keeping this guard under his ped, slowly destroying it from within without Eleanor even knowing. He would be sure to merge with his Queen somewhere the human mech could at least hear that it had lost to a much bigger, much stronger male.

The thought would have made Wilson sick and then irate - the guard already knew he was helpless. The best he could do was keep her healthy, since currently escape was not plausible with his own miniature robot guards.

"She needs care, fleshling. I assume you know what it is that she needs." Delicately he set his mate inside, stroking a tender digit against a tiny cheekplate, before nonchalantly plunking Ben inside.

Ignoring the usual painful landing, eyes already on his revealed President as she lay huddled on the floor, he gasped, "What did you do?" He feared that she was dead, she was so still and her body so stiff.

"Sherman!" The word slipped out of his mouth as he crawled over to her, inspecting her quickly as fingers pressed against a pale, icy neck to hunt desperately for a pulse.

"Ben," she breathed, eyes not opening, "please." Her clothing, even the insulated winter coat she wore, glistened with water, and the scent was unlike anything in his experience.

"Madam, I'm here," he consoled, turning from worried to furious as he directed his gaze at Megatron. Fear evaporated as he picked her up, bridal style, and unabashedly shouted at their captor "What did you do to her? Dump her in the Hudson?!"

Red eyes narrowed but he took no care. Eleanor nodded, the gesture barely visible. "Yes." Flabbergasted and exhausted by alien lifeforms, he dismissed himself to carry her to the bathroom, leaving Megatron to watch them disappear into the recesses of his mate's shelter.

Megatron scowled, determined not to make the same mistake again, "Ensure that the bath is warm." He ordered sternly, drones immediately changing forms and hurrying to go about their task. I should find her a gift. Something special.

His spark sank as he realised, so much for slow and steady progress.

The agent quickly removed the sodden outer garments, ignoring the smaller robots that had followed them into the bathroom. The faucets around the circular marble tub came on and he heard the sound of steam rising from it, the hissing of a superheated object being dropped into cool water.

He shook his head and continued as far as he dared only for her to smirk a little, lids closed. "Wilson, don't worry about it." Orders were orders, but he was sure to avert his eyes as he removed the rest of the clothing and picked her up again, going over to the tub and lowering gently until she was submerged.

Wilson cast a wary glance to the robots occupied by the pool, seemingly heating the water, before he snatched up several towels and placed them at the ready by the bath.

"He kept me warm, Wilson, using his hand." Eleanor's cheeks had warmed, a ghost of rosy shade coming back. "Why would he do such a thing?"

You don't want the answer to that. An idea forming in his mind, he grabbed the towels up again and retraced his path back to the front of the apartment, back to Megatron.

"She says that you warmed her up." The guard held out the cloths flatly, "Perhaps you could heat these up as well?" The tone hid thinly Wilson's angry sarcasm.

"Of course." A thumb and forefinger pinched the stack, an entire hand enveloping them. Megatron's mouth opened as if to add something else, when the massive head cocked itself to the side and the jaw closed.

Unicron curse this timing. The care of Eleanor had taken his processor away from his duties as Supreme Commander and Emperor of the Decepticons, and the memory of his upcoming slave inspections had evaded his CPU.

"Thank you Soundwave. Megatron out." Who was to care for her while he was gone? Laserbeak was friendly with her, as he had witnessed on his datapad, but the spy was needed for surveillance and inspection of the slave camps that were finally ready for his visit.

She couldn't be left with Wilson. He didn't trust that his dominance would hold in his absence. Soundwave and Thundercracker were the best candidates; since he could not spare a Seeker, he was left with one option.

"Soundwave," Megaron commed, wishing that more of his officers would be so prompt, "I have another matter to discuss with you."


YAY! Thank you everyone that came out and reviewed the first part of this AU to my AU story. :) Stay ready for Part 3!

Kate - Thank you! You are honestly too sweet 3. Please continue to review!

xxyangxx2006 - I constantly had to go back and change Eleaniris to Eleanor. It was so odd typing her human name out again.

TheLionfart - SQUEEE! You're still reading this?! Thank you so much and please continue to give feedback!

HurricaneFox - I haven't decided on the Autobots yet. Thank you for bringing them up! I will keep this in mind. Please continue to read and review! :)