warning: mpreg, miscarriage

Spark

Optronix onlined from recharge but didn't move, aside from powering up his optics. His gaze roamed uninterested circles on the ceiling, recognizing each tiny dent, scratch and mar on the smooth, silver-white metal. None of them changed from the previous orn. Or the one before. The thousand ones before. He idly thought of giving the small imperfections names, he was so familiar with them. Never even a cyberfly moved on that surface, but it was the most often seen sight that he knew.

Two vorns, his processor informed him of the date, exactly two vorns have gone since that pain-filled cycle, his first in this prison. Not even the thought of Megatron possibly coming to… well, definitely not to celebrate, but to take him again, could awaken the slightest interest in him. Even the fear was just a tiny, little emotion curling in his processor, battling with his apathy while numbly reminding him to the pain.

Pain, that by now he was almost used to. Pain that he was regularly put through by his… he paused, a small sob still escaping his vocalizer, by his supposedly bonded mate. It could still hurt, probably the only thing that could. A bond was supposed to be a beautiful connection, a common fate, a feeling of being joined between mates. Optronix knew by this time that he was probably overly romantic about a bond being good, happy union, but then he saw so many such before…

Pain gripped his spark, sadness and loneliness surrounding it, choking it, swallowing it. He sobbed again, tears leaking from his optics, long past caring about showing weakness – no mech ever came to his prison, only Megatron sometimes and Hook if he was too damaged. There were sometimes silent, empty groons before he saw a movement, heard a mech in the tomb-like quiet of his rooms. And then he wished that it didn't come, because Megatron inevitably meant pain and agony.

Optronix lay on the berth, not even bothering to move. The energon cubes that were probably waiting for him in the anteroom didn't interest him. He did nothing these joors, sometimes hasn't moved for orns. There was simply nothing to do here and consequently no need to drink energon when he didn't use it for anything. He even turned off the notifications on his HUD for low fuel as useless. Recharge was enough this way, even as something nudged him to drink some more energon – but the bland taste of the unrefined mid-grade that went stale on his table wasn't alluring in the least.

At the beginning, he tried. Sang whatever songs he could remember, until his own voice echoing in the empty space became too much to bear and sobs swallowed his voice. Recited poems and tales that he learned as youngling until the repetitions emptied them of meaning and mood. Stood for joors in front of the paintings and statues contemplating the artist's intentions and style, crafting similar pieces of art with his imagination. But how long such pitiful things can keep boredom and apathy at bay?

For a time he used to sit by the single window, thinking of Kaon that he barely know something about, the palace he hardly saw of - and ways to escape from it. The window was such an obvious place to start. It was energized since his first attempt and he couldn't sit by it now without risking a painful jolt as warning and a debilitating one if he insisted. And the view wasn't worth it really.

He wasn't even punished for the attempted escape, Megatron, when he came just took him like he always did. He was never intentionally damaging him, just uncaring and rough – and much bigger of course. Optronix was never since the first time as damaged as then, but the interfacing that the warlord forced on him from time to time still necessitated Hook patching him up the orn after.

It didn't matter really. Nothing did. The pain was almost welcome after the bleak aloneness that was his only company. It made him feel something again. Optronix hasn't tried to remember to his previous life, his siblings, teachers, going outside, playing, studying, hoping for a future… for a long time. It just hurt too much to remember how much he'd lost and how little he had to look forward to. It was better burying those memories completely.

Two vorns only and he felt barely more than a sparkless drone. Two vorns alone and he was broken, defeated, empty. His gaze roamed the ceiling again. Nothing changed there. Nothing changed underneath it. There was no reason to move, to think, to feel. None. If he stayed in the berth forever, it wouldn't make the slightest difference. Megatron would just find a way to make him fed, cleaned, and he would use him like before.

His valve and his spark was the only thing the warlord needed from him. Use him until he was sparked and then take away the sparkling as soon as it was possible, to save it from being tainted by its carrier's weakness and fear. He was told this in a cold tone brooking no arguments. He got no chance to prove himself, no opportunity to answer to Megatron, to convince him of his worth. The warlord judged him already and found him lacking. He was so worthless in his optics that he deserved nothing.

Optronix felt his heavy steps making the floor tremble. Unmoving, uncaring, but his senses sharpened in the stillness of the chambers. Megatron's huge frame was passing the first doorway, then the second one and stopping just inside the berthroom. From the corner of his optics Optronix saw his bulk in the doorway, but if he waited for the smaller mech to react, he was wrong. Two vorns, his traitorous meta whispered again. How many more to come?

"You stopped refueling again." – the rough voice didn't make an attempt to sound caring. It sounded frustrated and angry with his possession not taking care of himself.

Optronix didn't answer, didn't even move a digit to show that he heard the admonishment.

"Look at me!" – Megatron was frustrated and angrier by the klik. He didn't want a senseless drone for bondmate. He didn't want him at all, his Sire's support wasn't needed any more, but he still had to put up with this… this worthless little Iaconian in his berth. He jerked on a limp servo but the attached frame just slid closer to him on the berth big enough for both of them, and it still didn't react. He wasn't offline or in recharge, because the optics still shone with their dulled, but still exotic blue shine. They never looked at him directly for a long time.

Suddenly angry, he pulled him off the berth by the arm in his servo and with the same momentum threw him across the room. He didn't even make a sound as he crashed into the wall face first, like a doll with its strings cut and slid down on it to lay in a heap. Megatron suddenly felt a strong twinge through the still closed bond. At the same time a horrible shriek left Optronix's vocalizer, echoing in the chamber and he curled onto his front with every sign of tearing agony in his lines.

What was going on? He couldn't have been injured so much from a simple impact… could he? Megatron commed to Hook to get his aft there straight away and tried to lift the curled-up frame. Optronix continued to shriek in an unholy voice and curled up, trying to push him away and at the same time protect his spark-chamber. That should have been his first clue. The second was the arriving medic who scanned the screaming Optronix and sedated him immediately, not asking his permission to do so.

"My Lord…" – Hook was uncharacteristically somber. – "I must ask if this… violence was intentional or not."

"What the Pit you mean medic?" - Megatron growled angrily, but for once Hook didn't back down.

"I believed that you were trying to spark your mate, My Lord."

"What is it has to do with… of course I was. I need an heir! What are you insinuating?"

"Optronix is with spark." – Hook bowed his helm sadly – "But not for long I'm afraid."

"WHAT?!"

"He is not fighting to keep it… the trauma from the crash started the newspark to detach and start its way down to the protoform. But the protoform is nowhere near ready for it, probably just a few orns since its assembly started. Its only chance would be for Optronix to call it back with his own spark, but he isn't doing it."

"Why? And why don't you awaken him and tell him to do it?" – Megatron was nearly taking his rage out on the mechs at hand, but he knew that he shouldn't. Not at the moment. – "I order you to wake him up and save my heir from termination!"

Hook just looked at him incredulously, apparently torn between giving him a piece of his processor and just throw his servos up in the air. There were things that obeyed a ruler's orders and there were things that definitely didn't. Hook patched up Optronix enough times to know perfectly well that the young mech lost every ounce of will to live long ago. There was no way he'd want to do anything to save the already sputtering, weakening sparklet. Even if he could, which he wasn't sure.

Optronix was a young mech and likely not even aware of the fact that he was with spark. Even less possible was that he'd know what to do in this specific case. But his self-preservation won and Hook shrugged, injecting Optronix with the stimulant to wake up. For the newspark it probably didn't matter already. Megatron grasped a slim shoulder and turned the slowly awakening mech towards him. He was already screaming and Hook winced. This was what he wanted to spare him – the agony of the sparkling breaking free of his spark.

"Save my heir, hear me?!" – Megatron shook him forcefully, probably further traumatizing the already weakening Optronix. The process put a strain on his spark too, not only affected the sparklet. He didn't answer to Megatron, didn't even appear to hear him. The only conscious movement was to draw his servos over his spark, feeling the pain there – but the rest of his frame was limp, unresisting.

Hook passed the scanner over his chest-plates but couldn't find the signs of the newspark. Lowering it he just caught the flickering signal in the gestation chamber before it guttered out. A keening howl followed it from the young mech and a pained growl from Megatron who also felt it even through the closed bond. Hook didn't want to say it aloud, but he had to.

"It is gone, My Lord."

Megatron threw down Optronix's half-offline frame and started to pace in the chamber. He looked mightily angry, furious even, but he was sane enough to know that it was not his mate's fault. He looked uncharacteristically hesitant and indecisive, almost guilty. Hook lifted the limp frame back to the berth and scanned him for damage. There was a deep indent on the chest-plates and looking at the wall Hook saw the cause of it too – a fixture on the wall that he was thrown into.

"I caused the newspark to detach and terminate, didn't I?" – Megatron's voice was still angry but tinged with a barely hid sadness.

"I… I'm afraid it is the case, My Lord." – Hook didn't look at him, he busied himself with fixing the slight injuries on Optronix's frame. He sedated the young mech again, now that it didn't matter any more.

"I didn't know that he was with spark." – he murmured it more to himself than to the medic; not as an explanation, just to state the fact itself.

"Probably Optronix didn't know about it either, My Lord. It was less than a groon old, the protoform barely started to be assembled." – Hook choose not to mention that even without the newspark in the picture, it was totally unbecoming for a mech of Megatron's size to brutalize his poor, much smaller mate. Optronix hasn't made a rebellious move since his escape attempt was thwarted and Hook saw that he'd tried to comply Megatron in anything even at the cost of his own pain – only the warlord didn't seem to notice it. Or care.

"It is still my fault." – he looked lost in his thoughts of which Hook didn't really want to know about – "I'll have to make up to him when he awakens."

Megatron noticed his medic's incredulous glance at him.

"What is it?"

"Uhh… My Lord… I'm not sure… I mean surely you saw the state Optronix is in lately?"

"Listless, unresponsive, like he let himself go? Yes." – he scowled, apparently ascribing the symptoms to the smaller mech's weakness and disdaining him for it. – "Why?"

"It would take, ummm, quite a lot to 'make up' to him." – Hook decided that if his Lord was this thick, then he must need some sobering up. – "I would say that it would take a lot to keep him from letting himself deactivate."

"Why?"

"Because he is a bright, young mech imprisoned and used ruthlessly as a breeder…?" – oops. Hook didn't want to be so straightforward, but it just wanted to be told. - "Because he was completely alone with no mech for company, and he had nothing to do here, to take his mind off his fate – that is, to be raped brutally and regularly?"

Hook thought that Megatron would be exploding at him for saying things so openly, but the warlord just stared at the inert frame of Optronix on the big berth. Probably for the first time, he really looked at him, considering and noticing the details. The faded colours on his once bright and shiny frame, the dull, lifeless optics, the numerous scratches on the repaired but never repainted pelvic plates and thighs. The sheer, almost sterile emptiness of the room, devoid of not only personality but any form of entertainment or pastime.

Yes, he had ordered that no mech could enter to his rooms and he cannot leave them before a sparkling has emerged. He had a reason for it; as Kaon's ruler, his mate had to prove his worth, and if not he would be challenged, probably deactivated in the ensuing duel. A warrior state cannot have a weak mate for its ruler. Only having a sparkling would give him a way out from that situation. It was for his protection, Megatron told himself. Only the explanation felt quite empty even for him now.

As Optronix has never sparked he was kept separated from his people all the time. Megatron never thought what it'd mean to the young Iaconian in orn to orn living. That, barring his visits, the young mech was completely alone, sometimes for groons, no hearing a word, not having a companion, unable to meet even with the servants to ask for things he needed, that could have made his loneliness a bit more bearable. And he wasn't exactly a companion for the young mech either.

"Can he spark again?" – the question was sudden and unexpected.

"Not easily. Not soon. Certainly not while the only thing he wants is to offline permanently." – Hook didn't mention that with the shallow, mostly one-sided merges it was a small miracle to be sparked at all. He so wasn't criticizing his Lord's interfacing style, he wanted to stay alive. Lord Megatron would have to find that out for himself.

"I intend to give him a reason to continue functioning." – Megatron looked… pensive. – "And making up for my earlier… misconceptions."

Hook looked skeptic but hid it well. – "I understand My Lord."

"You may leave, medic. You'll do regular check-ups on him from now on."

"As you command, My Lord." – Hook stood up and started to leave. Stopping at the doorway, he glanced back to the room. Megatron didn't move, didn't give any sign that he saw his leaving.

"What about the started protoform in him?" – the question reached him already on the outside and Hook had to step back to answer. – "It'll be reabsorbed naturally, My Lord. I'll check on it next orn."

"I see."

After the medic left, Megatron continued to watch the offline frame of his mate on the berth. It was big, to accommodate his own frame, but bare too, with not even a headrest or blanket in sight to make it more comfortable or just homely. There was nothing on the small table by it either, no datapad, no personal possession, nothing. Optronix didn't have anything to put there. A cube half full with old, stale energon sat at the corner of the room, on a side-table. Some of the energon was on the table and Megatron leaned over it to examine – it didn't look like just being spilled.

Turning his helm from the way it would look from the berth he saw. A picture of sorts, scratched with careful strokes into the metal and the faint lines filled with energon that thickened like some strange sort of paint. The scene was unfinished, the lines ending suddenly, but they depicted mechs at various activities. Probably his former family or friends, his processor whispered. Of whom he didn't know anything since he left Iacon, barred from even contacting them.

Continuing his prowling, Megatron stepped into the washracks. It too was painfully empty of anything personal – and as he discovered of anything useful too. The tins of wax and polish were all empty, their contents ran out long ago by the look of it. A single, threadbare wash-cloth lay on one side of the solvent-bath. So this is why his colours looked so faded, his plating so dull, he mused, crumpling the small cloth in his talons. In the middle of the riches of the palace, he lived poorer than a servant…

Megatron felt worse by the klik, the pangs of his conscience a completely new feeling for the always self-assured, proud warlord. He didn't exactly mean any of this, not really. He didn't intend to be cruel to Optronix, but by negligence, ignorance and his hatred for Ultra Magnus projected on his creation he still caused it. Let it gone for vorns, until eventually it came to head. The destruction of the newspark was, in a way just the inevitable conclusion of his ignorance and coldness.

Throwing down the old washcloth, he returned to the berthroom. Optronix was still out and he'd be for some time. Time enough to think over what he did wrong – and more importantly how he could make them right. It wasn't going to be easy, he knew. He remembered the utter terror in those blue optics the first few times he came, knowing of the pain that was to come and not able to do anything against it. He never cared to make interfacing easier for the smaller mech. Never once he lavished a tender touch on him to make him aroused, to spare him the pain of being taken dry and hard.

For the life of him, Megatron couldn't truly tell why. He was a good lover with his few partners before, even as he was aggressive and dominating as befitting his nature and station. Still, he could make his berthmates, even the smaller ones aroused and enjoying the interface, so why didn't he do it for the one supposed to be his bonded mate? True, he was murderously angry with his Sire, that manipulative glitch Ultra Magnus – but he shouldn't have projected that hate onto the young and completely innocent Optronix. Not for so long anyway.

Suddenly a scene popped up from his memory banks, of their bonding ceremony. Optronix, sitting on his left, unobtrusively glancing at him, the anxiousness in his optics slowly transforming into interest, almost lust, or as close to it as the inexperienced, untouched young mech could feel it. He should have acted on that, making the smaller mech feel on his side, welcomed despite of the circumstances. It wasn't as though he didn't like Optronix, once he could see him with a clearer processor.

Well, he botched that chance totally and then continued it in the same vein. Or worse. He probably long destroyed any interest or positive attitude from the younger mech that he could use now to set things right. But Megatron wasn't a mech to give up things. Optronix was bonded to him and that bond could not be dissolved. Nor did he want to take other mates. Therefore, if he wanted an heir, he would have to solve this mess – make up for Optronix for the maltreatment, make the mech want to live again, and finally, make him… well, to get him love Megatron was a tall order, but accepting should be enough.

He continued to watch the offline form of the mech, while started to make some comm calls. Fortunately, Kaon was in peace with her neighbors at the moment and he secured those relations with treaties that should last for vorns if needed. The ornly running of the city-state could be divided between Shockwave and Soundwave, they were pestering him enough to take some time off from managing the kingdom. It meant that he could dedicate most of his time to Optronix. High time.