Nanoklik - about 1 second
Cycle - 1 hour 15 minutes
Breem - 8.3 minutes
Astrosecond - 0.498 seconds
Mega-cycle - 93 hours (almost 4 days)
Deca-cycle - 3 weeks
Stellar-cycle - 7.5 months
Solar cycle - 1 day
Alternate Beginning - Part Six
In the back of her throat sat a lump the size of a grapefruit. The whirlwind of unexpected alien invasion, complete devastation of New York, and the chilling call to her private, unlisted phone had left her exhausted and frazzled. And that was without considering the global emergency meeting called to plan a response. A nuke was sent, but even the plane carrying it was one of the enemy.
The militaries were in shambles, that of the United States in the worst condition. All of the heads of state had been held captive by the stream of video showing them the destruction of their forces. She didn't have time to be angry that they decided to cow to the might of their enemy; suddenly, she was carrying the weight of representation of Earth's decision to surrender.
To serve him their home, their planet, on a silver platter.
She made the long walk from the briefing room, wherein the cowards on the screens had told her what she needed to do while they hid behind the illusion of distance. Fools, there is no place that these fiends cannot reach. Her throat constantly closed around nothing, a hand touching her hair nervously with good reason. Megatron had demanded to speak to her and her alone - she couldn't venture a guess as to why. They had sent him one representative, a poor vice-president, only to see him crushed in a massive black fist followed by a demand for her visit.
The entire world knew of their capabilities now, thanks to that footage combined with that of destruction across the globe. The Emperor could not be defeated even alone - without his army they would not even be able to shake him. There was nothing her guards could do should one of his party decide to attack her. She was at their complete mercy.
They could only hope to sate his wishes, so that no harm would further come to them. She was all-too-aware that the leaders of toppled conquered civilisations were the first to meet their end. Messengers also. A shudder shook her. What luck that she was both. Hopefully she would not meet her death in his fist, as had that poor man.
She approached what used to be her office, Wilson setting a hand on her shoulder to reassure her of his presence. Two "men," emblazoned with the same purple symbol as the robots standing on the lawn, moved from their posts by the doors. A flash of silver was her only warning as cold metal was clapped across her wrists and clicked shut. She knew, as did the rest, that symbolism was never accidental. Their potent cocktail had a particularly violent visual, coppery scent, and bloody taste. She had hoped to never experience it again, but with each passing instant that wish drew farther away. With their helpless captive sufficiently restrained, she was led through the doors to her office.
A man sat in front of the desk, dwarfing it with his height and breadth, his identity unmistakable. Two other men flanked him, one tall and silent and the other lanky with a devilish smirk. All were impeccably dressed.
"Surrender does not necessitate suffering, Eleanor."
Lord Megatron spread his legs to take up yet more space, as though his human body wasn't already large enough for him. This is quite smaller, though, than his real form. She shuddered to remember looking up at their colossus of a conqueror, how tiny she had felt between those two enormous feet in his dark cold shadow. She would never understand why he hadn't just stepped on her, why his gaze had actually softened when it turned to her. That experience had fed much of her fear for today's meeting - why did he want her?
"I know that a deal can be arranged, and I can tell that you prefer the direct route." The damned grapefruit wasn't moving. "There must be something that you want. I am sure that we can reach a conclusion in a timely manner."
Please tell me there is, that you didn't attack without reason.
He fixed her with a haunting look, reddish brown eyes holding a knowledge of he did not share. "Yes, there is something Earth can provide me." Her fingers started to quake, and she flexed them to mask her fear. There was no point to it but to maintain her pride.
"The governments of Earth have become obsolete." His voice was a sinister purr, eyes darkening like a storm as they met her own. He folded his hands in his lap, cocking his head, "It is I who have conquered you, and it is I who will govern."
She opened her mouth to argue, but out came a plea. "We do not contest this. We merely wish to save our people from -"
"What is it that you think I will do?" His tone held a lilt of amusement that almost ruined her already-shaken nerves.
"Our people fear you -"
"As they should." The lanky one laughed. He was silenced by a glare from Megatron himself.
"- and they wish to beg for your mercy."
He chuckled, one corner of his mouth rising above the other in a smirk. Her skin crawled with nervousness and anger. "If you would please, Lord Megatron, make your demands." Make them before I fall apart. The atmosphere had become suffocating. Something was strange in the way he regarded her, something lighting up the area behind his eyes.
The smirk never fell as he gestured to the two men at her sides. Immediately she was tugged down to her knees, hands clasping over her shoulders to keep her there. "First, define mercy." A massive, rough hand brushed her cheek, hot and burning. The thumb petted one of her cheekbones in a surprisingly gentle but nonetheless disturbing manner. She was too afraid to jerk her head away.
"No more incidents like New York. No more widespread slaughter. We will do as you ask, in exchange for our lives to remain otherwise untouched." I'll give you anything! Please! Just stop!
He tutted, drawling, "Humans obstruct my plans. Surely to eliminate or enslave humanity would be in my best interests, hmm?"
Alarm struck her. "Please, what are your demands?" She needed to control this better - on his point she could not defeat him, but deflect him. From an alien's perspective, it was more efficient it wipe out humanity.
"Earth's fertility has yielded many resources for energy." The hand remained attached to her cheek, molesting the skin there. She couldn't think clearly with how it blazed. "I require those."
"What will we do without energy?" Despite herself, she was incredulous. "We need it!"
"You will find other energy." He leaned towards her and mused, "Or perhaps you will not. That is inconsequential to me." For a moment, there was no movement - she tried to swallow, but couldn't. Then, he sat back in the chair and removed his hand. "Regardless, without this deal I will take them anyway."
"Which begs the question, my Lord," the lanky one growled in an unpleasant voice, "Why is a deal being made in the first instance?"
Megatron quirked an eyebrow and regarded her again, eyes unrelentingly boring into hers, testing her resolution to the breaking point. "Perhaps Starscream, for once, has a point. We could eliminate populations from space if we desired. Within a year Earth could be stripped of her energy and humanity extinguished from existence."
"As a matter of fact," he stood from his chair, straightening his flawless suit jacket, and threw her into his shadow, "We could start now. Soundwave -"
She crumbled.
"Please!"
Megatron narrowed his eyes and the hands started crushing her shoulders. A sound of discomfort left her, baring weakness for her despicable enemy. "It is unwise to interrupt but I will allow it once."
The pressure receded and she fought the urge to roll her shoulders to alleviate the pain. "It would be easier for you if we served you." God how I hate that word. Her eyes fell in a way she hoped appeared servile and respectful all while gritting her teeth.
"I value my control." A hand steered her to look up at him, thumb stroking her cheek. He was stooped in order to reach her from his height, massive body leering closer. Then, he pulled her to her feet with disturbing ease. She was still shorter than him - probably much shorter - but the symbolism lifted her heart the most miniscule amount.
Yet, the fact remained that he had skillfully stripped her and backed her into a diplomatic corner. With but one option to secure the safety of mankind, she offered her standing and position as tribute. "You may control them," bile flowed upwards from her stomach, sweet in comparison to her words, "through me."
Megatron removed his hand, straightening. "Your planet will meet its end beneath my heel, with or without human cooperation. However, perhaps I will… postpone armageddon."
"In exchange for energy."
She didn't dare smile - it wasn't safe to do so yet. Against her will she fell, landing once again between his feet and under his shadow, threatened with being crushed by his might. "Thank you, my Lord," she praised with a leaden tongue. That is what he is now, isn't he?
My Master.
His eyes flared red, certainly not a trick of the light, and his voice changed to become much louder and far deeper. "Be satisfied, precious."
She started, a finger having pressed itself to her back in a gentle pet. Before her face was a lump of food, sitting on yet another digit. Guided by instinct she found his red eyes, the trigger for an overflow of fear from her dream to saturate her brain. A strangled squeak left her and she started thrashing though she knew it would do no good, tears welling up in an instant. Terror, frustration, and stress drew her into a hysterical fit which Megatron did not understand.
How could she go from such cute, mumbling slumber to this upon awakening? Was food not a pleasurable first sight?
"It is only food, precious." Do not be ridiculous. Her eyes closed and she sobbed, her good arm trying to pull her up out of his closed fist. "It is alright here. I am not going to hurt something as special as you."
His spark stirred with guilt, of all things, when he saw the red evidence of his presence on her skin.
She stilled more out of exhaustion and pain than to listen, but the latter happened anyway. Red eyes glowed softly at her, within her reach as he had pulled her close. "You… say that an awful lot." Without a kerchief, she wiped her wet nose and face with the back of her hand.
"It is the truth." He assured, the sight of her terror tenderizing him. Within his chassis his spark begged for release.
"I'm sorry." She sighed, letting him reposition her into his hand. "I just -" Her lips shut and skin tinged red, eyes retreating from his optics. Embarrassment.
"What is it?" The tone was gone, replaced again with cool reservation. "You will be living with me for the remainder of your lifespan, and it is best that you tell me the truth."
She bit her lip. He had a point - it was time she adapted. She had been the one to freak out without reason, to start crying out of nowhere. What has happened to me? How can I become so distraught and then so… normal again? Like now?
"We get these things called 'dreams,' which can sometimes be pleasant and sometimes can be… the opposite." Just let go of your pride. You don't need it anymore.
"I understand." He set her back into her blankets, food forgotten. "If you wish to discuss, I will listen."
"That's not necessary, but thank you." The discontinuity between the Megatron that her dreams had reminded her of - the one that had flattened New York - and the Megatron that sat before her, offering company and discourse, was disturbing and unsettling on a level that she was not ready to explore.
"If you are sure." Megatron turned, intending to enter his washracks and remove the unwanted human food from his servo. It was clear that she didn't want to eat.
"You say that I will be here my entire life." Her nerves steeled themselves just enough to get her through, not possessing the strength to do more. "Is that true? I'm not going home again, am I?"
"Does that frighten you?" He turned again, happy to see her speaking again.
"Y-yes." Just let go.
Megatron did not reply, contemplating for a moment. "I recognize that your human instincts dictate that I am to be feared." He stooped to be level with her, slowly lowering a finger to her head as he soothed her. "I resemble a large predator, undoubtedly formidable to you." Eleanor, despite the oversimplification, nodded. Let go.
"However I do not intend to devour you," not yet, "maim you, or otherwise. I repeat my promise that you will not be harmed. Alright?"
"...okay."
"Good girl. Now, in the future I may decide to revisit Earth and you will be taken with me should I choose to do so." Her eyes rose, sparkling with hope that made his spark purr.
"Thank you."
"Of course."
She might see Earth again! Her heart leapt with joy and her eyes went to the window, as if to look for her home among the stars. Eleanor didn't consider what she might find upon return, suddenly feeling not so alone. She would see them again. It was almost as if she had been lost at sea, adrift among the waves in an endless night, and had just now found the direction of land.
He nearly purred at her smallest flicker of a smile.
Megatron was gone when she had turned around, the door to what she had assumed to be a bathroom cycling shut. Wishing that she had taken the breakfast offered to her, Eleanor went back to her blankets and raised a hand to her face, wincing at the burning feeling there. What had happened to her? I need to get out of here.
And what was with that dream? With nothing else to do, she decided to pick it apart.
It was so… demeaning. Is that really what it could have been like? If I had been forced to deal with this? Instead I am here, far away from making any decisions at all. She frowned, agitating the burns. Really, I do nothing anymore. What is my purpose? Why am I here? How did I get here?
In that dream I acted like a puppet. I had to give him what he wanted to protect my people but at the expense of autonomy and resources. At least that didn't actually happen - somehow this is less demeaning, less insulting. Was I sacrificed, like in the dream? Eleanor shivered, hoping beyond hope that it wasn't so. They wouldn't do that to her, would they? Even if it is so, at least without my position or my home I have nothing left to lose.
To be working for him instead of the public would have been humiliating beyond belief. In that other scenario, he could ask for ever-increasing amounts of resources and bleed me dry while I had no choice but to comply in order to save their lives. I am not a "puppet President" here, but in that case I would be. I have no one to protect here. The only one I have to save is me.
Perhaps there is a bright side, even though Earth may never be in my sight again. She only hoped that her people were safe, that the Vice President was taking good care of them - there was nothing for her to do but pray for that small victory.
"It is time."
Eleanor looked up from her nest, bleary eyed and still sleepy. He wanted nothing to do but lull her back into sleep against his chassis, stroking her soft, strange fur while she recharged like a tired newspark. The thought was tempting, but so was the idea of seeing her healthy again. Being confined to her blankets or his servos was cute, but he wanted to see her trot around the floor of his habsuite - exploring as a healthy, happy, and trusting human would.
"Come here." A redundant statement, as Megatron plucked her up anyway. It was only when they were out the massive doors that she was finally awake.
"Time for what?" She called up to him. A finger petted her as he chuckled, and Eleanor didn't bother with shying away.
"I believe you are ready to have the casts removed."
"Oh." Eleanor shifted her gaze downwards. They hadn't even checked to make sure that the bones were healing properly. I won't be surprised if I can't walk again after this. It would be just one more thing taken away from her. It's not like I use my legs anyway.
On a more startling note, had it really been that long since she had left Earth?
"They will not harm you, but you will need to remain quiet." Megatron pushed her tighter against his chest, signalling that the short conversation was over as he hid her from the other occupants of the Nemesis.
Eleanor was set down on the same metal table with the same roughness as the last time. She gasped, the wind having been knocked out of her, only for her ears to be assaulted by the sound that was Megatron barking in that rough language of theirs.
Tons and tons of metal pounded the floor in a sound she knew better than her own footsteps. She moved her head to the side, seeing the same two robots as the last time come forward. The tray of tools held dangerous knives and sharp tweezers, points gleaming like fangs on a rabid wolf. Her eyes squeezed themselves shut. A whimper came free. She suddenly remembered her nakedness.
"Are the segments ready for removal?" Although his face was impassive, Megatron was eagerly anticipating seeing his sparkmate walk again.
Scrapper scanned her, wondering how it was that the human was still alive - and in seemingly better condition. Megatron watched carefully, only averting his optics to the back of the medbay as Mixmaster snickered and Long Haul nodded in concession. Instantly both came to attention.
When he looked back down at his mate, she was crying silently. Hook sneered. Scrapper's EM field didn't react. Megatron did nothing.
"They can be removed."
"Do as needed."
Eleanor winced, eyes flashing open. A high-pitched whirring filling the air. She turned her head, reacting solely on instinct. The one with the mask-like face was holding a drill, so tiny yet so loud. Instantly she looked the other way. What she expected to find was half-way gone, her plea dying in her throat.
Megatron knew he shouldn't have turned to look at her. Those grey organic eyes were wide, terrified. They called to him as if to say "Rescue me!" His spark called back, but the Decepticon Lord kept going. Just once more, sweetling.
Then you will never leave my sight again.
"Mixmaster, bring the dose." The chemist, still high off of winning the bet with Long Haul, practically pranced up to Scrapper with the paralyzer. She saw the needle this time. Eleanor shut her eyes, knowing what was to come. Despite herself, she repeated Megatron's words to the beat of her pounding heart. They will not harm you. They will not harm you. They will not harm you.
In her panic, she didn't even stop to consider the fact that she trusted him. The needle went in and injected her with the mystery substance, numbness quickly following. She shut her eyes and mentally locked them, doing the same with her ears.
This could take a while.
"The muscle has weakened due to disuse."
Megatron was frowning, a rare show of his true emotions. Eleanor was still paralyzed but she didn't have to be standing for him to notice the lack of anything around her leg - the same applied to her arm. Both were a thin that spoke of starvation (he had seen malnourished humans during the winter in mismanaged camps), though he knew that he fed her the correct amount. He knew muscles could shrink or grow, but completely vanish? And her leg - it didn't seem to be healed correctly.
For once, the procedure didn't involve any pain. Once she had realized that the drill was not making its way through her flesh or bones, her mind had eased just a little. Instead of drilling holes in her body it had put cracks in the casts, making it easy for the robots to chip away the material. Even the bandage on her back, soft in contrast, went away without pain. They simply heated it with the same torch as the time before and peeled it away from her pink, scarred skin.
"Stand, human." Hook said sternly.
She jumped at the stern, growling voice. Even Megatron's, as gravelly as it could be, was more pleasant. Eleanor hesitantly tried to roll to her feet, feeling weak. Evidently she was too slow. The one without the mask snatched her up roughly, setting her on her legs impatiently. "Stand." The support of his hand went away and she teetered for a moment. Before she could catch herself her leg buckled and she was on the metal again with a loud smack!
Megatron's frown deepened.
"Very well." The warlord returned to his habit of masking emotions - though his voice struck the audio as disappointed, his processor had already found Eleanor's condition to be in his favor. She would remain totally reliant on him for movement.
"?" She made a little sound, looking up at him imploringly. "?" His spark cooed but he snatched her carelessly from the table, dragging her before actually plucking her up into a fist. Appearances first and foremost.
"All else appears normal?"
"Yes," Scrapper affirmed as Hook nodded. "It is now completely fine." You lie.
She squeaked as he tightened his grip, straining her ribcage. "Quiet." He growled at her, sneering. It was enough of a shock that she did as told, albeit wide eyed.
She was carried out and away from the dreadful place that way. For an instant she wondered if she did anything wrong - last time he had laid her flat after leaving, petting gently. Yet, as soon as they were back "home," he was making that odd grating sound deep in his throat and stroking her as she lay against his symbol. She leant into every touch, relieved beyond comprehension.
Megatron traded the datapad he had been reading for an Energon cube, pleased to see that the slave deaths were starting to drop in the North American sector. The winter had killed many of his workforce, and now that the weather was starting to warm again the worst seemed to be over - he would need to build better shelters for the next winter if he wanted to keep his slaves, but that was all that he needed.
Since he had implemented Soundwave's latest suggestion and established a regular schedule of feeding and grooming, his mate had relaxed. She didn't fight his touch as she used to, only whining when he went too near her pelvis or her chest. Eleanor went to sleep more quickly and rested more often - she was almost always asleep, especially since her bandages had been removed a deca-cycle ago. He took it to mean that she had adapted completely to living with him on board the Nemesis and was now fully relaxed, until he had taken note of her palor.
Megatron understood that humans varied in their skin tones, an observation that only an ignoramus would miss. He also understood his mate to be Caucasian, among the lighter skin tones. However over her first deca-cycle she grew pale, blue veins becoming more evident and more vivid. She became increasingly lethargic and slept in seemingly random intervals.
Hence, he provided her with ultraviolet light from a tool from Mixmaster so that she could produce her vitamins and readjust her circadian rhythm. The first time he had turned it on she had frozen, as if shocked, before closing her eyes and going completly lax. Eleanor currently was laid out beneath it on his private desk, surrounded by the folds of her nest as her skin harvested the light. She was such a strange creature with odd needs, which Eleanor never revealed to him. Just as she had never asked him for light, his mate never asked him for grooming supplies nor clothing. He had noted her timidity - though she needed far beyond what he had offered, the missing items were never requested. It was as if she feared his response to such a question, and thus he had had to surmise what she needed from human records and her appearance.
"Eleanor," he murmured, lightly stroking her bare side to get her attention. He would confess to denying her clothing - skin was much more pleasant, despite the raised, ugly scarring on her back. Instantly she was alert, regarding him with wide grey eyes. She slept lightly ever since Rumble and Frenzy had hurt her. "Always ask for what you need. Understand?"
"Yes." The former President whispered, wary. Why was he stating this now? "Thank you." She paused, considering. Over the months (she guessed it was that long) Megatron had not harmed her. Each promise was fulfilled and each touch remained gentle, invasive though they could be - especially through her menstruations. Eleanor wasn't deathly afraid of him anymore, but she still gave ample thought to her words and actions around him. He is, first and foremost, an alien. As human as he may act. "Are you angry with me?"
He was quick to reassure his mate of the falseness of her question, "Of course not."
She accepted his answer, lying back down on her bedding. "Good."
Eleanor was intending to sleep again? This seemed unusual - all of his sources had dictated that humans needed only about 6 cycles of rest per human day. Why was she taking more than that?
Was she sick? Eleanor wasn't acting as though something was wrong. Her appearance had remained the same, besides the darkening of her skin due to light exposure.
"What is your reason for resting so often?"
The environment you have given me is dull and unstimulating. I'm constantly bored and there's nothing for me to do but fret about Earth, read Meditations again for the 10th time, or eat and drink. But she could not say any of those things. The idea of telling those damned red eyes in that steely cold face, so unnervingly composed, made her pale. She could not insult the environment that he had given her, for though it was boring it was comfortable and safe. She could not cite her worry about Earth nor the book he had given her, lest that be insulting. Neither could she scorn eating and drinking as one of her few activities - the last thing she needed was for him to think that she didn't want those things. Even if I drink and eat from his used glasses like a dog.
"The truth is all I ask." I'm worried, sweetspark.
"There… isn't much else." Eleanor pulled her limbs close, hoping that her answer was satisfactory. "Besides exercise, anyway…" Maybe that would actually do me some good.
His response was a flat "I see." Megatron's glass was placed beside her, his eyes narrowing in thought. While Eleanor watched the Energon swirl and glow, he contemplated his options. "Your… book is not satisfactory? My company is not satisfactory?"
She wrenched her eyes away from his fuel, alarmed. I insulted him.
"I-its just that I've already read it." Eleanor didn't address his second question, a fact that Megatron did not miss.
The place where an eyebrow would have been rose, "What is your reason for not asking for another?" He knew exactly what her answer was going to be, and his processor was growing heated. Megatron could tell that his voice was conveying that.
Her eyes darted around, trying to find a response. "I-"
Eleanor would have expected what came next if she had spent more time on the bridge of the Nemesis, if she spent more time with the Megatron that the rest of the Decepticons knew. In less than a second he went from his relaxed, seated position to towering over her, red eyes burning. A hand grabbed her, grip tighter than usual. An instant later she was in front of his face, incredibly disoriented from the rapid ascent.
His voice had lowered, now a dangerous growl, "I have already told you, on multiple occasions, to ask for what you need." For emphasis he vigorously shook her back and forth, ignoring her screams. "What more must I tell you, Eleanor?"
When he stopped his mate's head was bowed, her entire frame tense. She sniffed, a wet sound, "I-I-I'm s-sorry."
"Now, is there anything you want to ask for?" She raised her eyes, full of fearful tears, mouth open as she gasped for air. She blinked quickly, nauseous. Eleanor had never expected him to do such a thing. He had rattled her brain, made her think for an instant that the force would break her neck. It was a potent reminder, one she wasn't going to forget.
"N-no."
"There will be consequences if that is not the truth." For a moment it was silent, and then she asked, "Please, d-don't shake m-me. It hu-hurts." As his anger fell, pity for his mate rose to meet it. He shouldn't have shaken her, and now that fear in those little eyes… What had he done?
For several moments the only sound there was was his harsh ventilations as he contemplated her expression and what to say to her. "I will not shake you again." He vowed softly, bringing her close to his chassis and petting. His spark strained to touch her, wrap her in its tendrils to reassure her. Do not regress, Eleanor. Do not relearn helplessness. She was still stiff as ever, a sign of disbelief. Hesitantly he brought her up to his faceplates, Eleanor still gasping. "I promise."
"Ngh!" was the only sound she was capable of making as he pushed his cold "nose" against her bare skin. She was shoved up against his face, hands grabbing his bridge out of instinct. The purrs vibrated against her as he shifted, rubbing her mindfully. N-nuzzling?
Unfortunately, the stimulation against her queasy stomach forced her to lose her breakfast. It was all she could do to roll away and avoid vomiting on his face. She whimpered and tensed, expecting another angry outburst. He rumbled and ventilated hot air over her, disturbing her mane, now worried about her. He set her down gently, remembering the original discussion. "And I will find something for your boredom. Alright?"
Eleanor nodded, still quite shaken but more calm. Her hands reached up to rub her neck, already starting to grow sore from the whiplash. She didn't know what to expect from him anymore.
"I will return soon," he whispered, stroking her back once. He glanced at the mess on the floor. "Do not concern yourself with that."
"Megatron," she called as he neared the door. The silver titan turned fully to face her, hard face impassive.
"Can I have some clothes too? P-please?"
"You will leave, Barricade." The titan waited less than a breem and then departed his office, locking the door with the new code. It was habit for him to change it at random times.
Megatron tried to keep his business inside of his office and on the bridge. To maintain his control, his air of authority and power, he avoided calling his mechs to his habsuite. It was incredibly rare, especially since his organic mate had taken up residence with him. Thus Megatron could scarcely remember when he had last visited an officer in their own quarters. It went against his against the power balance between a Commander and his officers.
Soundwave knew who it was instantly his Master's pedefalls distinct anywhere. Before Megatron could even comm him, his door was open. "Greetings, my liege."
Soundwave could mask his EM field well and remain impartial in his tone, but Megatron recognized easily the confusion in his third's monotonous voice. Without so much as a request the Decepticon Lord stepped through the doorway and into the spacious quarters. He gave the room a cursory glance, noticing immediately the pile of blankets on the wide expanse of the console. His audios, well experienced with hearing the small sounds of a human, picked up upon the small squeak from somewhere beyond the main space.
"I assume you have studied additional behaviour from the human." There were no formalities. The walk from his quarters to here - short due to the similar location on the same level - had been enough time for him to realize the seriousness of his treatment of Eleanor, both the shaking and her general situation. She was healthy and bored and needing a social bond. He knew enough about humans to know that they enjoyed games. In short, it was time for her to play.
"Affirmative." Soundwave was aware that he might have become too familiar with Grace, but she was such a sweet little thing, even smaller than his cassettes. Rumble and Frenzy even adored her.
"Are you prepared to advise which recreational activities might be best for Eleanor?"
Immediately Soundwave understood the reason for Megatron's visit - in fact, he had been pondering when his Commander would ask. From his experience with the cassettes he knew that some play was beneficial for trust. This method had worked well for Grace when he had relocated her in the Washington slave labor force. He remembered her from his time posing as her possession, remembered her gentle hands. She had come to him so malnourished and fearful that he couldn't help but take her in among the cassettes. Now, it was rare for her to be seen upset. By contrast he had only ever seen his Master's intended Queen engaging in one of two activities - sleeping or cowering from Megatron. Even for a human she seemed excessively jumpy, perhaps due to her experience with Rumble and Frenzy.
"Yes, my liege. Tactile activity that requires touch would allow her to become more acquainted and less fearful with you."
"Show me." Megatron knew that the human female was here somewhere - if it worked, he wanted proof. He would not risk partaking in a game that would scare his mate instead of placate her.
Grace knew to hide whenever Soundwave had visitors in his apartment - he had ordered it himself, which is why she was astonished when he called her from her place. "Human: Report immediately." Without hesitation she came forward, carefully detaching herself from between Rumble and Frenzy and entering what she called the "living room."
Not him again. Not here. She cast a helpless glance to Soundwave, who merely stared expectantly at her through his red visor. Grace gave Megatron a wide berth, stepping quickly to get behind Soundwave and struggling to keep the skirts where they were designed to be. She averted her eyes respectfully, thus missing the way that Megatron's optics narrowed at her dress. It was not malicious, but rather contemplative.
"Grace: hide." Although perplexed, she did as asked, scampering off in her costume to find a nook to crawl into.
Megatron slanted his gaze to Soundwave, "That is not the customary dress for human females."
"It wears those cloths as part of a game with Rumble and Frenzy."
Megatron quirked an optic ridge, cool as ever even as his processor turned over thoughts for Eleanor's soft human armor. "What does this game require?" He did not miss the fact that the cassettes were playing "nice" with a human. Curious.
"A montage of different combinations of clothing, my liege." Soundwave shifted, finally turning in the direction the female had run in and changing the subject. "Since the human has hidden, it is now time for it to be found." The Communications Officer knew it would not be wise for Megatron to partake in that game with his mate yet.
The Decepticon Commander filed away the conversation and the costume. "And when Eleanor is found?"
"She can hide again."
Ben Wilson paced, unnerved as he stared out at the city in the dark. When was the last time he had seen Eleanor? Every time Megatron came back, he was deathly afraid that the titan would be cradling a body in those massive hands. Their silver captor rarely stopped by anymore - even when he did, it was brief and only to give him "food."
He wondered when he had had a vegetable last. If this was all the President was getting... that didn't bode well. Regardless, why was Megatron still bothering to feed him? He couldn't see a reason to keep him alive.
The former agent stared out among the buildings, shivering at the cold breeze that whistled through the ruins. Already he could see the beginning of spring in the sliver that was visible of the park - even in the crushed streets and ruined buildings he saw green.
With a suddenness that almost made him jump, a beam came from around the corner. Unfortunately it was not metaphorical and did not offer a solution. Interest piqued, he crept to remains of the exterior wall to watch.
Three bulky shadows stepped into the weak light of the crescent moon above them - they appeared to be in animated discourse.
"-aste of time! Your 'sources' are more bogus than gold coins in Queens!" The thinnest one argued in a male, haughty voice.
"Simmons, keep it down. And they are not 'bogus.'" Another male countered. "She was here. We know Megatron took her at the start." Wilson narrowed his eyes and immediately saw their camo tactical gear - complete with combat rifles, except for the lanky one.
The third chimed in. "Look around you, Simmons, and use your damned eyes." The first one - he presumed Simmons - reeled his head. "See those pits in the street? Those weren't made by stray dogs."
The same man seemed to look at the base of his building, making Wilson slink up against the wall. "And neither was that pile of trash." He had had no choice but to put them up. Wilson laid a hand on his gun, still in his holster - Megatron had not taken it, probably because it wasn't a threat. He may be outnumbered and outgunned, but he would protect himself if necessary and likely kill the ruffians in the process. He was not the head agent of Sherman's security detail without reason (even if he had failed to retrieve her from their captor).
"Lennox, cover me." Immediately one of them went behind one of the many mountains of rubble, dragging Simmons with him. Wilson cocked his head, noticing the distinctly trained manner in which Lennox retreated. Could it be…? He checked the aliens at his back, "sleeping" as they did. He had a feeling that they might have been dead - surely they had to refuel, right? Just like any other machine. Except they are not machines as we understand machines.
The still unnamed man treaded lightly to the foot of the building, gun held in a skilled grip, disappearing from the agent's view. Wilson waited, tensed like a panther ready to pounce. It was only when all three had started to move down the street that he revealed himself. Handgun primed, he strode to the edge and called, carefully as he could, "Halt!"
Here's hoping.
The two with the training immediately lifted their weapons as they spun. Simmons lifted his hands in surrender. "Identify yourselves!"
"You go first." Lennox ordered. Wilson clenched his jaw, weight balanced on the balls of his feet.
"At ease, Lennox." Anonymous asserted, never taking his eyes away. Lennox lowered his gun but still held it at the ready, noticing that something was different about this man than the rest of the scavengers they had encountered. "I am former Master Sergeant Flavius Burns of the United States Marine Corps, and this is Captain William Lennox of the United States Army Rangers."
"Now will you tell us who you are?" Burns had his suspicions about the stranger.
Wilson studied them for a moment more, deciding that they were truthful. No ordinary civilian, criminal or not, could act as they had. These men were bona-fide military.
"Wilson, Secret Service Detail." Wilson shifted, still holding his gun. "What do you want with the President?" He was sure now that the robots were dead. He's too worried about his "mate" to properly imprison me. At least he's caring for her, evidently.
"We're on a rescue mission."
"You won't find her here." Wilson studied the front of the building, looking for a way down. He knew the suspects to look for, the characters that he shouldn't trust, and these men didn't fit that description. "Give me a moment."
Lennox turned to Burns as the man disappeared, both ignoring Simmons as he began to nervously babble. "Do you believe him?"
"I don't think he is lying about being trained, no." Burns kept his eyes upwards, "But if he is her Secret Service agent, where did the President go?"
"Time to walk, Eleanor."
She shivered at the feather-light touch of that finger gliding down her bare back. Since the casts were gone, Megatron was having her exercise. Eleanor wished she could say that it was torturous - such a flippant statement could no longer be made lightly. Such a sentence wasn't even true. It was hard work, rebuilding her muscles underneath the fat she had accrued after being stagnant so long, but Megatron had been almost… caring.
"I have a reward for your excellent behaviour. I will give it to you upon completion of your walk."
"What is it?" She flipped onto her back with interest.
He lowered himself, smiling in that eerie way of his; like his face wasn't meant to make that expression. "I promise that you will like it," the silver giant purred. "However, you must walk thrice the complete perimeter of this desk."
Eleanor did as he asked, just as always, though she stopped often. "Yesterday" she had just managed to stumble across his desk, supported by his finger. And that was only once.
Yet not all difficulty could be attributed to her lack of muscle. Just as she had thought, her leg had not healed correctly. Its bent angle was only obvious when compared to the uninjured limb, but it still made it difficult for her to distribute her balance.
Splitting his attention between his datapad and his recuperating mate, Megatron was sure to keep an optic on her. She would not fall and hurt herself again - he needed to leave her on her own for some time, and he didn't want her to spend that time with Hook and Scrapper.
"T-there!" She gracelessly plopped to the surface of the desk, legs shaking uncontrollably. "C-can I have my gift now?" Megatron chuckled, proving her suspicions correct. He liked her immature chatter - or perhaps it was just her interaction that he liked.
"Impatience, little one? How unbecoming." His tone took a mocking lilt.
Never one for witty replies, she replied "I'm tired, okay?"
"Is that so? Perhaps I should have you walk more..."
The effect was immediate, inducing sheepishness in the way his mate bowed her helm. "T-that's fine."
"I was only jesting," he purred, tilting his helm as he smirked at her with only one corner of his intake. "Here is your gift."
Megatron did that odd reaching-into-thin-air motion and lowered his massive hand to her. "Try them."
Her smile wilted. "What…" Astonishment and then offence flashed across her face, acceptance finally settling.
"You don't like them."
"No!" she immediately shouted nervously, all-to-aware of how his eyes had become slits. An eyebrow quirked, and she danced again. "I should say that they aren't traditional," her fingers gripped one of the metal brassieres harshly, "but I do appreciate them." Eleanor hoped that she sounded convincing. "Just like everything else you do for me."You will be living with me for the remainder of your lifespan, and it is best that you tell me the truth. In actuality, it was best for her to lie.
The titan made a pleased sound, eyes returning to their normal, safe apertures. "Good. Try them." Why do you lie to me, little one? I will never hurt you.
She didn't have an excuse now. Legs still weak, she shakily got to her feet and tried to navigate the straps of the elaborate costume, hurriedly slipping on the odd purple skirt. She didn't know how to feel about the fact that both pieces fit her perfectly.
"There." Eleanor held out her arms, looking down at herself. This is disgusting and creepy.
"And do you like how it fits?" If his instructions had been followed and the measurements true, the Constructicons' creations should fit her seamlessly.
"Yes." You wanted clothes and he got you clothes. She managed a small smile up at him, purring "Thank you."
Megatron lowered his head, leveling their gazes so that she was no longer under his hulking shadow. "They seem to suit you well." She couldn't ignore the way his gaze made her skin crawl.
Eleanor turned her gaze down to her feet to hide her shame. Thinking it a positive shy reaction, he smiled briefly and sat back from her, standing to ready her supplies. She would have to go without bathing for a few days, but she needed drinking water and a good supply of food.
It was hard to miss movement from a several ton giant. "What are you doing?"
Megatron turned, smiling again at the way her head was cocked. Endearing. "I will return to you soon." His slave camps were, unfortunately, not ready for her visit. Soon they would be, though. He reached to turn off her lamp, surprised when she didn't duck. Perhaps she was finally relaxing?
"Go to sleep." With nothing better to do, she did as told.
Real life hit me a couple times with a couple knock-out punches. Sorry that this is so late!
HurricaneFox - I dare say that that is going to become the least of Eleanor's worries.
Guest 1 - Yes, there will be more. Not sure how much yet though.
Guest 2 - Thank you! I appreciate that.
xxyangxx2006 - Yes, with Decepticons there is more regression than progress. Her cyberformation will be a little different in this AU, something that I am glad to see that you picked up on. Thank you for spending so much time on your reviews! They really help me out as a writer.