Chapter 2.
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"Do you still have that weapon that throws circular saw blades?" Prime asked, examining one of the cell's upright bars.
"No, I do not," Galvatron admitted disgustedly.
Prime looked as if he was going to say something, then went back to his inspection of their cell without a word.
"WHAT?" Galvatron demanded, a touch of fang showing.
"Is that rebuild better than your old body in any way?"
"My OLD body had a few -dents- Prime," Galvatron snarled, "-perhaps you remember PUTTING them there?"
"Ah," Prime nodded once. "-So who rebuilt you?"
"Unicron, before his inevitable destruction."
"That explains a lot."
"Indeed..." Galvatron agreed, darkly.
"I kind of like it," Prime decided.
"WHAT?"
"I miss your old color scheme, but cylindrical limbs suit you. You look almost... organic."
"Your perverse fantasies are no concern of mine, Autobot."
"I mean it. You've got universal joints now, don't you? They make you more flexible. Harder to predict," Prime added.
"In comparison with you, -anyone- looks flexible," Galvatron snorted.
"Maybe, but it's always been one of your best strengths in battle. Remember the time we were fighting close up, and you pivoted halfway around from the waist so you were facing -backwards-?"
"I do. And I am -endlessly- amused to hear you say that."
Prime shrugged.
"Do you have ANY weapons besides being a gun?" Prime asked, getting to the point.
"None I can let you borrow, more's the pity..." Galvatron sniffed.
"Okay smart guy, you tell me. How DO we get out of here?"
"You see that pitiful excuse for a life form in the cell to your far right?" Galvatron pointed.
"Yes."
"I shoot him, then we escape while his screams of agony draw off our guards."
"Escape how?" Prime pointed out.
"I'M WORKING ON THAT!!"
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"Tighten your focus," Prime ordered softly.
Galvatron adjusted the orange barrel of his laser canon, internal components sliding together perfectly. Prime's hands flexed around the grip, unconsciously bracing for the almighty recoil he knew his nemesis contained. His finger was on, but not quite -pressing- Galvatron's trigger.
"Just how out of practice ARE you?" Galvatron demanded, impatiently.
"Wait for it..." Prime murmured, drawing a bead on a small rock formation that was almost hidden by the planet's dusty haze.
He fired.
Galvatron preserved a memory of everyone who had ever fired him, from Starscream's accurate but too-hasty flair to Soundwave's ruthless, deliberately spaced-out shots.
Thundercracker had fired him because it was his job. Starscream had enjoyed how easy having the gun made winning. Soundwave had felt honored to fire his leader, and often added emotional lines like, 'prepare for oblivion' before pulling the trigger.
Galvatron had his own favorite however...
Prime's aim was nearly perfect, but at that extreme distance his tightened grip had skewed the shot, making Galvatron's thin violet beam scorch the upper right corner of his target instead of hitting it dead center.
"Better luck next time?" Galvatron said, smugly.
"Give me another charge," Prime said, unapologetically.
He held the gun upright as Galvatron built up the power for a second shot, running his thumb idly along the optical slide. The gun warmed against his hand.
Lying prone in the center of the cell floor, Prime brought Galvatron in close, resting his elbows on the ground for stability.
He aimed carefully, then raised his head and blew across the gun's rear sight without warning.
Galvatron fired.
Galvatron transformed into robot-mode, and drew back an armored foot to kick the grinning Autobot square in his side-panel.
Prime's arm lashed out, hooked Galvatron around the back of his other foot and pulled, dumping the enraged Decepticon on his retro-thrusters.
"YOU INSOLENT-"
"Relax. That shot was good," Prime assured him.
"PRIIIIIME...!"
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"GET AWAY FROM ME!!"
"Galvatron, what's wrong?" Prime asked, backing up as much as the barred walls would allow.
"YOU'RE TRYING TO DRIVE ME INSANE! You Autobots aren't supposed to kill, so you're trying to get ME to do it FOR YOU!!" Galvatron hissed, aiming his arm-cannon at the base of Prime's throat.
"If I wanted to kill you, I'd do it with my bare hands."
"I KNEW YOU WERE TRYING TO KILL ME-!!" Galvatron screeched.
"I'M NOT TRYING TO KILL YOU!" Prime shouted back.
"S-STAY BACK! I KNOW YOU! YOUR TRICKS- YOU..."
Prime studied Galvatron's face, then folded his arms across his chest with a sigh.
"Fine. Have it your way." Prime turned away from his companion, and Galvatron promptly shot him in the back with a gleeful whoop.
Prime whipped back around to face him, heavy blue fists clenched and trembling.
"MEGATRON- GALVATRON- WHATEVER YOU'RE CALLING YOURSELF THIS CYCLE, I AM NOT YOUR ENEMY!"
"As your precious Humans would say... bullshit," Galvatron spat, "You're an Autobot. In fact, you're the Autobot whose madness INFECTED all the others!"
Prime lunged forward and punched Galvatron hard enough to knock the Decepticon back into the gummy cell bars on other side.
"I'M-NOT-CRAZY!" Prime thundered down at him, "I'm HERE because my friends PUT me in here!"
"That makes two of us then," Galvatron said dryly, picking himself out of the webbing, "-though you're an even bigger fool than you look if you still believe Rodimus is your friend."
Prime's head bowed, and slowly, he sank to his hands and knees.
"I won't give up on them, Galvatron. They made a mistake- I-I can't..." Prime's vocal processor froze up with a brief scratch of static, and his massive red shoulders began to shake.
Galvatron allowed himself an evil private smile, then knelt beside the distraught Autobot, and put his arms around him.
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"One of those -monkeys- is watching us."
"So? They're trained psychiatrists, I think he can handle it..." Prime assured him, nuzzling the gray adjustable ring at the base of Galvatron's neck.
"I don't LIKE being watched," Galvatron declared, shoving Prime away from him.
A flicker of annoyance crossed the semi-truck's face.
"Think of it this way, Galvatron," Prime reasoned, "-I doubt he actually -wants- to watch."
"HIS pain is irrelevant," Galvatron sneered, "I don't perform such acts in front of lower life forms."
Prime stroked his chin thoughtfully. -He'd picked up the habit while he still wore his battle-visor full time, and hadn't seen fit change it.
"Hey, buddy!" he called over to the Torqulon. "Yes, you. Come over here for a breem."
The Torqulon looked surprised, and his expressive simian face showed doubt and concern. But he did come closer.
"What is it?" the psychiatrist asked, neutrally.
"Listen, I understand that watching us is your job, but can you do it from further away or something? You're making my friend here very uncomfortable."
"Your... friend is very violent," the Torqulon replied carefully, "-both for his own safety and that of the other patients, we can't leave him unmonitored."
"I'm not going anywhere," Prime pointed out.
"That is true, but you're here for a reason..." the Torqulon reminded him gently.
"We've been over and OVER this..." Prime sighed, "-I'm not actually insane, I'm just here because my second in command -thinks- I am."
"I remember when you were admitted, and though you've made progress since you've been here, you do still have some issues to work out. The disassociative identity thing, for example-"
"I've EXPLAINED the effects of Matrix withdrawal-" Prime began.
"No actually, you haven't," the Torqulon said sounding interested, "-would you like to talk about it?"
"GET OUT OF MY SIGHT, YOU BABBOON-FACED CRETIN!!" Galvatron yelled, his patience at an end.
"Was that really necessary?" Prime asked, when the Torqulon had retreated.
"It got him to leave, didn't it?" Galvatron pointed out, with a satisfied look.
Prime caught sight of the Torqulon using a cage fifty yards away for cover, but decided not to mention it.
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"Hey."
"Greetings, Prime..." Galvatron purred. His red optics glowed down brightly, and gave the planes of Prime's face a soft ruby flush. The semi-truck reached up, and took the white band of Galvatron's waist in his hands. -With Galvatron straddling his lap, he could hardly miss.
Prime shifted his hold, and rubbed his thumbs inside the recess at the base of Galvatron's dark chest plate. The Decepticon hissed softly, and pressed a hand down hard on the louvers of Prime's white grill, bending them -just- enough.
Prime's engine roared, and he gripped Galvatron's wrist, stilling the motion.
Galvatron narrowed his optics, and smiled.
He curled his fingers, scraping over each white slat with a sharp metallic twang.
Prime rewarded Galvatron with a deep groan that resonated through his exhaust pipes. Galvatron could feel the cool night air sucking past his hand into the grill as the Autobot drew breath. He pressed his advantage, and reached back to open a side panel on Prime's bumper.
"Oh no you -don't-..." Prime growled, locking an arm around Galvatron and surging improbably to his feet. In two shuddering steps, he had his opponent pinned against the sticky cell bars. Galvatron's rear sight was tangled in the webbing, ensnaring him further.
Several thoughts passed through Galvatron's processor. The slightly incoherent, 'I'm about to be run over by a truck-' was first, followed by, 'no fair, Autobot scum!', and, 'if only I could turn this delicious strength to my advantage...'
"You're thinking too much," Prime smiled against Galvatron's audio receptor.
"So DO something about it," Galvatron shot back.
"As you wish..." Prime promised, and his blue optics glinted in the dark.
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Galvatron awakened just before dawn, and sat with his back against Prime's recharging form. He had to think. To shake off this sweet languor in his servos and-
A distracting crackle of energy pulsed at his temples, and Galvatron clenched his fist.
He shouldn't be feeling this.
He was damaged. Hadn't they SAID he was damaged?
Prime was taking advantage of that, but any Decepticon warrior worth the energon he consumed would do the same, and wasn't it a victory for HIM that-
The crackling flared up again, and Galvatron stroked the tiny fractures in the metal on either side of his helmet curiously.
Maybe he was crazy. Maybe he'd gone into a stasis-lock deca-cycles ago, and Prime wasn't really there...
The thought hurt in a way that Galvatron couldn't name, and he half-turned to reassure himself that the unconscious Autobot was real. Prime frowned sleepily at his companion's sudden movement, and his blue fingers closed on nothing.
...No.
The feeling of constriction around Galvatron's chest components eased, and he cupped Prime's smooth, gray face in one hand, studying it approvingly.
...A delusion would never have been able to call over the Torqulon guard.
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Notes: Yes, Galvatron can turn into a heavy-duty laser pistol in addition to his laser-howitzer mode. It's one of those really tiny details in his bio that didn't get used except in the comics.