She had listened, she had watched, and she had cried. He had been injured in battle. He was in the med-bay, his arm almost completely ripped off, one optic cracked and dark. Dried energon covered his large frame. Most of it was his. The red medic rushed to stabilize him, while she sat above, hidden in the rafters, letting the tears slip from below her visor, and prayed. She prayed that the predacon would survive. She prayed that her observations weren't in vain. She wanted to see him back up on his pedes. She wanted him to live. Wanted to see him walk around, or growl at the scrawny flier, or recharge peacefully in a room not far from the one opticed one. She never wanted to see him like this. Never. She bowed her helm, and wept silently, prayed silently. He would survive. He was strong.
Predaking woke with a start, trying sit up and then groaning in pain. He slumped back down, the cool metal of the berth battling against his feverish plating. He stared up at the ceiling, feeling the faint pain in his newly fixed arm and the sloppily patched gashes on his sides. The predacon sighed and glared at the ceiling above him. He felt like a burden, injured and using up resources. He never noticed the shadowy figure that watched him from above, hidden in the rafters. He never heard the quiet, relieved sigh. He thought he was alone, but he was wrong. So, very, very wrong…
She stared down at the now awake Predaking, a smile taking over her usually emotionless grey faceplates. The silver optics hidden behind a dark visor closed and a sigh of relief slipped past her lips. He was alive, and would survive. She stood carefully, silently, and walked along her rafter, heading towards the vent, where she had hidden plenty of times while watching the red medic. Pitch black servos silently slid the cover off and the jet black femme glanced once more at the prone figure of the hulking mech, before she disappeared into the dark opening. The cover was slid back on, and she crawled her way towards an unused storage unit. The lock was broken, so it was unable to be opened from the outside. She dropped down from the vent into the room and instantly picked up a data pad that was left on the small berth made from scrap metal. The black femme sat down and flicked through the files on the pad, never once did she look up from reading. This was her task, to watch and to learn about the cons, learn their strengths and their weaknesses. No, she wasn't an autobot, but a simple neutral that had needed the job badly. Her "boss" had promised the pay would be enough energon to last her a month and a little over, as long as she had the information he wanted. Her boss apparently had a grudge against the large silver one-whose name was Megatron-and wished to hurt him. But that wasn't her problem. It never would be, if she had her way.
She yawned and stretched out, the datapad turned off and to the side. She had taken a nap, and felt rested enough to check on the mech she had been watching earlier. She had no plans to crawl through the vents again, so she opened the door and peeked out into the halls. Empty. She moved carefully, staying out of the cameras range. With a well placed leap, she landed gracefully on a rafter, and started walking. Soon, she was in the med-bay. But where was Predaking? She stared, confused, at the now empty berth. Where had he gone? She made her way down to a lower rafter, risking detection to look for a clue as to where the large mech had gone. When something-a servo-grabbed her by the leg, her optics widened, and then she was yanked down into the arms of a pissed off looking predacon. She stared fearfully up into the yellow optics and felt a tug at her spark. What was that? Seeing the mech's confused expression, she could only guess that he felt it too. His grip on her tightened, and, feeling threatened, she flinched away from those sharp clawed servos…Which only ended up with her chassis pressed against his. Hidden silver optics peered up into his, and then her if-I'm-captured plan kicked into gear. She fainted, while being held bridal style by the same predacon she had been watching for over three weeks.
((Second chapter! Yeah! Predaking and the unknown femme finally meet!
I do not own TF: Prime. do, however, own my OC(whose name will be revealed next chapter).
P.S. The femme is mostly black silver stripes on her sides, silver optics, white tribal markings below her optics, and silver stripes on her legs.
Thank you for reading the newest chapter of The Stalker and the Beast!
Skyress98: and your wish is granted, kind reviewer. J