Here is Chapter Three! I apologize for the really long wait!

I forgot to mention this before: this story is set in a Shattered Glass universe, centered around the Autobots only. (One would think it pretty obvious anyways). The Decepticons will not be in this story. Perhaps in the sequel, unless I change my mind.

Enjoy!

Ratchet stalked down the hall. He was moving rather quickly, despite the weight in his servos. Wheeljack prowled behind him, his wings twitching and displaying his constantly battling emotions, an everlasting storm.

"Doc." The swordsmech hissed suddenly, armor flared as he gradually came to a stop.

"What did I say earlier, Wheeljack?" The medic continued to walk, not stopping for the larger mech. "I am not letting you terminate your teammates!"

"Ratchet!"

The assassin actually seemed... frightened?

"What?" Ratchet whipped around as much and as fast as he dared with the limp frame cradled in his servos. He froze at what he saw.

Wheeljack was being restrained by a massive black servo, its claws digging into his armor hard enough to draw Energon, as his wings flared high and fanned the air in irregular movements as they batted against his restrainer's servo. An enormous and lean frame loomed behind the jet black swordsmech, and the two blazing crimson optics of his restrainer were filled with pure and unadulterated fury that burned into the medic.

A deep and rumbling gravelly voice thundered throughout the room, shaking through the medic. It seemed to shake the base looming above them to its very foundations.

"Explain."

"Lord Prime." The medic immediately bowed as much as the body in his servos allowed him. "We were on our way to the medical bay. Officers Prowl and Jazz are both severely injured."

The dark crimson glare lingered on the Mad Doctor for the briefest of moments before taking in the battered frame of his appointed second in command and the seemingly undamaged one of his third.

"He has no significant damage." The Prime took a few thundering steps towards the CMO, narrowing his optics as they flickered over to the chassis of his third. A deep and threatening rumble came from his massive engine.

"My lord, his...condition...has worsened." He shifted as the unconscious Polyhexian stirred blindly, his engine rumbling and ventilation mechanisms hitching. After the tense and rather uncomfortable silence, the dark medic continued, aware of the fact that the Prime's mood was rapidly darkening. "It was best to put him into stasis." Ratchet lowered his gaze submissively to the massive chest of his ruler.

"Have I not told you to keep him under control?" the Autobot Commander growled, leaning forward as his massive engine rumbled with a barely concealed threat. His upper mouthplate curled into a snarl as the medic flattened his armor against his frame.

"You have, my liege. It is only that with such low stocks of lifeblood in storage we cannot properly refuel him." The medic remained still, armor relaxed and tone steady as to not antagonize his lord and master any further than he already was.

"There is no need to give up our resources for a mere parasite." The mammoth black mech rumbled threateningly, motioning with a stiff servo to the mech they were currently speaking about. His hellish crimson optics blazed dangerously bright, a grim and terrifying reminder that his rage was steadily growing by each passing nanosecond.

"Master, the mech in question is your third in command." Ratchet drew in a deep yet barely audible vent, as if calming his nerves without the other knowing.

Prime growled deep in his chassis, remaining silent in a way that unnerved the medic. He spoke after a moment of tense silence. "Keep him under control, or you both will be sent to the stockades for the rest of your miserable and insignificant lives."

The medic nodded once, slowly to not rouse the suspicion that he was up to something, even if he was not. "Yes, my Lord."

The Dark Lord remained silent, his sanguinary glare piercing his subordinate. After a long and tense moment of chilling silence, and with one last lethal and pointed look, the feared Leader of the Autobots turned and left.

Wheeljack snarled and shuddered, leaning against the wall as he slid down into a seated position. He twisted his helm to swipe his glossa over the jagged wounds in his shoulder panels. His optics flashed in sadistic pleasure and desire at the taste of his own Energon as he looked over at the medic, noticing that he was keeping his faceplate carefully devoid of anything that would betray his thoughts despite the fact that there were various emotions were battling clearly in his electromagnetic field. "Doc, what's the matter? Ya look like death warmed over...that, or you really want to dissect someone right now."

The dark medic scowled, endless optics flashing in irritation as he glared at the insane swordsmech. "I suggest that you shut your mouth or it'll be welded shut permanently!"

Wheeljack tilted his helm, a dark grin playing on his mouthplates. "Ah, now I see." Suddenly the enormous black mech was looming over the other, bright green optics blazing insanely bright as his engine rumbled in disturbing pleasure. "You cannot stand our leader."

The Mad Doctor stiffened, and in a flash his surgical blades were extended, one pressed against the other's neck cabling and the other resting directly above his spark chamber. His current cargo was seemingly forgotten in his rage. "Wheeljack, do you ever wonder how long it will take for me to carve through your armor enough to make you scream in agonizing pain as I tear your spark out before your very optics?" His dark optics flashed crimson for a brief moment, and his signature disturbing grin appeared on his mouthplates to expose his jagged dentia.

Wheeljack let out a deep and growling laugh, his optics burning even brighter despite the fact that there were lethal weapons so close to vital Energon lines. The sound that came from his vocalizer was filled with unsettling cheerfulness as his wings rose ever so slightly behind him. "Aw, there ain't no sense in denying it. You clearly despise you know who."

The Mad Doctor crossed his servos, optics narrowing to slits. "What would make you think so?"

The swordsmech grinned coldly. "It's pretty much obvious." His fangs glinted in the dim lighting as his bright green optics burned with a ravenous and homicidal light. "You are not very good at masking your emotions, Doctor. I can literally taste your rage." A hoarse laugh escaped the dark mech, strut-chilling and filled with sadistic amusement. Leaning closer, a long and forked glossa trailed over the medic's faceplate, leaving an acidic and burning trail in its wake. "And it tastes oh so delicious..."

Ratchet scowled, his engine rumbling as he narrowed his optics to dark slits, and he moved back with disgust etched clear on his faceplate. He seemed ready to decapitate the looming black mech, electricity crackling around the edges of his extended blades, before he growled and transformed his servos back to default. "Remind me to make your next psych evaluation very painful."

Wheeljack whined, wings twitching as he shook his helm. "I thought we were done with those, Doc. Ya know I don't like 'em."

"Tell that to our leader." The medic's scowl remained strong and deep as he flared his armor and released a rush of air from his flared vents. "Come on. Jazz and Prowl aren't healing themselves."

The swordsmech made a hoarse sound that was a cross between a hiss and a whine. "Can't we just give them to Percy? I'm sure he'd love to have new subjects."

"I swear to Primus is you don't shut that mouth of yours I'm going to rip it off and give it to Raj." Ratchet glared venomously before turning sharply on his heel and stalking down the hall.

Wheeljack groaned and fixed his acidic glare on the unconscious saboteur in his servos. "You know, you're much more trouble than you're worth. I hope ya know that."

Hope you liked! Prowl's "incident" will be described soon!

R&R, pleaze!