Author Notes: ..Oh, ffnet hates me. I know it does. It's just come to my attention that almost ALL dialogue with Blurr when it's a run-on has been cut out? Why, I don't know. Maybe they think it's a website link. Who knows. SO. If you want the actual complete stuff WITH BLURR DIALOGUE, note me or something.

..Also, this is why this chapter has Blurr speaking in normal sentences. Because it'd get cut out otherwise.

*fistshakes at ffnet*

RESPOND TIME.

JJStar: My brain sometimes changes things. I just don't argue with it. I just put down what my brain shows me. And, yes, Shockwave, to me, is VERY creepy.

Thing With No Talent: ..But.. But that doesn't even.. ... I'm confused. D:

Lucy Sumeragui: *noms cookies from the future* This, mayhaps, explains the preference.

Blackmoondragon: The way I see it, Shockwave is one of Megatrons' most trusted and most loyal high-ranking soldiers. I assume he'd just get extra perks over the centuries.


I know I'd better stop trying

You know that there's no denying

I won't show mercy on your now

I know I should stop believing

I know there's no retrieving

It's over now

What have you done?

Why, why does fate make us suffer?

There's a curse between us

Between me and you

-- 'What Have You Done', Within Temptation

Souvenir: Chapter Seven


The clock proclaimed that it was far too early to be awake. The backlit digits against the octangular metal mount wouldn't chime again for at least two more hours. Upon this realization, Blurr prayed that this would not be the start of a dreadful pattern; the second night in a row to be forced in to recharge through pain and terror only to wake up hours too soon.

The Elite Guard shifted miserably underneath the resting behemoth; Shockwave wasn't exactly a lightly framed mech and, even in recharge, prohibited the speedster from twitching more than a few inches in any direction. Nevertheless, the attempt was made; for the moment, Blurr wanted nothing more than to get as far away from the shapeshifter as possible.

A very soft hiss sounded off; it was recognized instantly.

"Unable to rest again, are we?" A soft, slow mumble came from the Decepticon.

Relying on knowledge from the night before allowed Blurr to be completely unsurprised that Shockwave woke up. Still, the speedster trembled. A myriad of emotions churned within his processor; pain, fear, a hate deeper that he had ever felt before alongside a strange, twisted sense of betrayal that he didn't fully understand.

The hate overrode the natural need for self preservation. "Why are you doing this?!" It wasn't quite a yell; the volume barely rose above the standard speaking level. "Why did you take me away from everything I've ever known only to do this to me?! Why didn't you just kill me in the security trap?! You had a chance to offline me and I would have been a frag of a lot better off than this!" As the words left him, Blurrs' intakes heaved and clicked.

For far longer than the cerulean mech could handle, Shockwave said nothing. The cyclops lifted himself enough to peer down with a single, slitted optic for several long seconds. A sharply pointed claw gently caressed the side of a white faceplate; the trembling increased.

"It would have been such a waste." Shockwave somehow seemed to smile; wonder was held within the soft, pleased tone as his claw continued to stroke his captives' face. "You are beautiful. A custom-built frame, as well, isn't it? You are one of a kind and unique. It would have been such a waste to end you."

Hands the shade of porcelain clenched at Blurrs' sides; he had the unsettling urge to punch the Decepticon in the face. He barely held himself from doing so in the knowledge that, if he did, he would likely suffer dearly for it. The Elite Guard grit his dentals as the deep, horrid rage grew within his spark; the sheer loathing he felt took over all else. He tensed, about to evoke obscenities, when a faint shuffling came from a short distance away; something was shifting in the berthside closet.

With a sharp suddenness, Blurr remembered that he wasn't alone.

"If you had such a sick fascination for the body Perceptor and Wheeljack built for me, why did you kidnap Cliffjumper?!" This time, Blurr kept his voice as low as possible. If the red minibot was still within recharge, he did not want to wake him. "Why couldn't you just leave him back on Cybertron and left him alone!?"

The slitted optic flickered once. Shockwave appeared to consider the question. "He was there. There was no reason not to take him."

Blurr openly gaped. The response was so outrageous in its' simplicity that, for a moment, all words left the quick-minded mech. "You.. You..!" A hostile, static-filled hiss left him. The only word that came to mind that encompassed everything Shockwave was to the young Autobot came in a cry. "You.. Sick monster!"

Shockwave chuckled, amused, as he pinned the blue mech with his own frame. "Monster? Well.. I've been called worse."


By the fourth day, both Autobots had memorized their new schedule. Shockwave, for all the cruelty and malice he possessed, adhered to a strict timetable. Their self-proclaimed master never deviated from the chiming of the clock; every nanoklik of every solar cycle became precisely the same.

For reasons neither one could completely understand, Blurr was at the receiving end of every single one of the shapeshifters' lust-filled endeavors; as the evening hours rolled about, the speedster was always the one chosen to sleep atop the berth. Of course, Cliffjumper simply couldn't allow it to go on without some sort of resistance; the red minibot quickly became accustomed to the stench of Hubcaps' offline corpse.

Blurr wasn't told of the stash of identification tags in the closet; Cliffjumper simply couldn't bring himself to tell him.

On the ninth day, Cliffjumper guessed the password correctly. As soon as the screen passed from the seemingly unbreakable login box to that of a simple desktop, the first real flare of hope sprang up within the minibots' spark. He had expected the miniscule attempt at escape to take months if it worked at all; it was nothing short of miraculous that it occurred this quickly.

A quick glance at the clock proclaimed it would still be well over ten minutes more before Shockwave and Blurr came out of the washracks. Unwilling to waste time, the email program was quickly found; he typed faster than he had ever had in his life.

Red-plated fingers swam across the keyboard; he simply did not have the time to put in every individual email that he wanted to, so an automatic mass address was put in instead. Every Autobot ranked Prime and above would receive it. Granted, those like Optimus Prime and non-military personnel would get hold of it, but there was simply no other way around it; beggars could not be choosers.

Stellar cycles of working as a personal assistant aided him now; the simple skill of typing had been honed to a fine art and the message was laid in quickly. By the time the ordinarily innocuous words of 'message sent' came upon the screen, Cliffjumper was shaking profusely.

Hope did not damper paranoia; he knew that if Shockwave so much as suspected what he had done, he would almost certainly be killed -- or worse. The minibot opened tab after tab in the system docket, deleting and purging any sign that the email had ever been in there at all. Only when he was absolutely certain that nothing was left behind did he finally have it in him to log out of the console.

Cliffjumpers' intakes came in quick and fast; the login box was on the screen again. It was as if he had never gotten in. A glance at the clock told him he still had several minutes to spare; with a deep breath, the minibot collapsed on a chair and tried to calm down.

When the door to the washracks opened and Shockwave emerged, the shapeshifter barely gave the console a second glance.


It wasn't until Shockwave locked them in his quarters to go wherever it was he went for those couple of hours every day that Cliffjumper felt it was safe to tell Blurr what had happened. Being within in their captors' presence for the majority of their time held the risk that anything they said to each other could be overheard; now that the Decepticon was gone -- where he went was entirely unknown --, it was the closest to privacy they would likely ever get.

After several days of captivity, the small lounge by the window became a comfort zone; both the small sofa-seat and long chaise were individually large enough to sit them both with room to spare. Although Cliffjumper had once been unwilling to so much as sit too close to another bot on public transportation vessels, he now often held the taller Elite Guard as he whimpered, wept and sometimes even slept.

The previous night had been particularly harsh; despite Shockwaves' incessant need to bathe Blurr after his nightly torture, there were still visible scuff marks and the loss of paint along the rim of his spark chamber.

"Blurr.." Cliffjumper held the miserable blue mech with the same care a small sparkling would require. "Blurr, something happened this morning."

Blurr looked up with nothing short of panic; naturally, he assumed the worst. "What, what happened, are you okay?!"

"I got the password right." Now, the twinge of a smile lit Cliffjumpers' face; the first in a very long time. "On the slaggers' communication center. I sent an email this morning to HQ."

Dull blue optics brightened at the news; after a brief moment, a wide grin crossed Blurrs' face. Then, blue arms wrapped around the smaller minibot in a tight embrace. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you.. I didn't even know you found a way to do anything or were even trying to do anything or had the opportunity --"

"I didn't want to get your hopes up. I thought it'd take months." Cliffjumper gently patted the younger mechs' back. "And it was.. When you were in the washracks. I think the console only turns on when the fraggers' in here."

Tremors shook Blurrs' frame; it took a moment for the minibot to realize that the speedsters' intakes were releasing soft hiccups. "..Blurr..?"

"Thank you, thank you, thank you..!"

The sheer joy along Blurrs' faceplate maintained for nearly the entire time they were alone; only when Shockwaves' return near did they have to force themselves back in to a now false depression.


Would you mind if I killed you?

Would you mind if I tried to?

'Cause you have turned in to my worst enemy

You carry hate that I feel

It's over now

What have you done?

I will not fall

Won't let it go

We will be free when it ends

-- 'What Have You Done', Within Temptation