Hey guys! Man, was this a hard chapter! The whole alien describing totally inhuman things going on is super tough on your noggin! On the bright side, we got some more Harry Megatron interaction with a hint of Allspark interference.
Harry's going to be a little needy for a bit, by the way, but you guys have been really understanding about his mood swings.
Disclaimer: See PROLOGUE
UPDATE- Oops! Sorry guys, I accidentally posted the unedited version. I touched it up while I was working on Chapter 8 and forgot to switch out versions. This is the updated version. Pretty small changes, you don't have to reread.
The warmth of what seemed like years ago hit him like a sucker punch. Harry bolted upright, a keen bursting from his...mouth. The cube from before, was it still with him? Those heady vibrations rang softly against his body, thrumming like a drum.
The heat seemed so much more intense now, wrapped so snugly around Harry it was a wonder he could move. It burned at the touch, but not in the painful way the cement floor did. The hold deepened, striking him in a place very similar to his heart, but inherently not. Like the center of his being, it felt so strange.
Squirming uncomfortably, Harry half heartedly tried to move away, he felt so spent. The heat was the only familiar thing in this room. It wasn't even the same one he woke up in, no more glass and the door looked more like a panel in the wall if it weren't for the now clearly spotted gaps.
Oblivious to Harry's reservations, the warmth reached even deeper, filling him to the brink with its pulse. Despite his dislike, Harry found himself relaxing under the ministrations, soothed by the manipulation of his core. His exhaustion eased, the pain of simply sitting receded, and the gears in his chest whirred all the faster.
The respite was more than welcome, Harry lowered himself back to the ground, taking advantage of the blunted sting. He curled tightly, holding the warmth just as fiercely as it did him. Harry had never felt such comfort from touch, such a total embrace. It was just as startling as his punishment, but it felt so good.
Harry had no way to tell time, but it felt like hours were spent slumped into the cement, soaking in anything that wasn't nightmarish or painful. This was the sensation that had soothed him after his fall from Hoover Dam, the strange attack from atop the cube, and now in this cell. Did Dudley feel this way when Petunia held him? If so, it was just another thing to envy him for.
When Harry felt the presence pull away, he lunged violently to find it, arms outstretched. Newfound motor skill granted by the warmth already so much more useful. Harry didn't want to be alone again. He wanted to be comforted and held as he had never felt before. Even if he didn't know a thing about it, even if it was too close and too far at the same time, he wanted to stay with it.
The presence stilled, heat once more washing over Harry, but it didn't give him anything more. Fear hiked as far as it could even as he nearly purred under the calming invisible hands of the cube. Don't go! Harry tried to shout, a scratching hiss dribbling out instead. The heat intensified, pulling him into what must be a hug, Harry wasn't sure how it felt. Still, he burrowed deeply, perhaps deep enough that it couldn't let go.
Just as suddenly, it dove at his head and yanked so violently Harry screamed. Why was it attacking him? It was so nice, did it think he was a monster too? Out of everyone Harry thought the cube wouldn't be afraid, it had been with him when those people in white had changed him, hadn't it? What had Harry done to deserve this? Was this all because he had ignored the tour guide? Because he had gone somewhere he shouldn't have?
Falling to the ground, Harry cried in betrayal, but the heat remained, washing over him like the warmest tide. The yanking stopped with a dramatic click and Harry whimpered as best he could without any vocal cords. Why had the cube hurt him? Harry had tried to force it to stay with him, was that why it punished him?
With one last squeeze, the cube left him in the tiny room to sob with the body of a hideous robot. Despair railed against him, but Harry curled tightly away. He didn't want to think about it, he didn't want to remember how he looked. Just living seemed so hard and painful, even worse than the most dreadful days of punishment the Dursleys could give him.
Without the soothing of the cube, the cement was digging cruelly into him and every twitch and click was slower and more deliberate. Was the warmth teasing him? It felt unbearable now, after the break from it. Just like when Aunt Petunia gave him a slice of apple after a few days of no food. It certainly didn't fill him up, and Harry just felt all the more hungry after eating the snack.
Harry huddled, wishing for tears when all he could do was cry and shake. It felt so straining and unexpressive, tearless as he was. But even his utter misery couldn't distract him from whatever the cube had done to his head. It was flittering and bright in a way Harry had no way to explain. Almost like a butterfly had awoken inside him and was bringing a fragile new awareness.
Just as Harry become conscious of the whirr of motion going on inside his robotic head, static suddenly popped to full volume.
Yelping in shock, Harry pressed his hands against where his ears once were, the static was so loud. It buzzed and beeped and chattered endlessly. The butterfly in his head was jittering and flicking everything with a ticklish touch, and those oddly sorted thoughts parted for a new window of forever streaming numbers and symbols to appear.
Just as quickly as it started, the static stopped, but silence did not return to his cell.
{Designation: Megatron, contacting sparkling. Respond.}
It rang through his head like a bell, that butterfly's window of information caught something in the air and blinked in triumph. The garbled clicks and growls buzzed in a way that was nowhere near human or replicable. The symbols striking down behind his eyes were jagged and impossible, but he knew they reflected what was speaking into his brain.
{Designation: Megatron, contacting sparkling. Respond.}
Harry shouldn't have understood what this thing was saying to him through that blinking window, but he did and it scared him. For all that he had been warped physically, hadn't his own consciousness and self been unaltered? Just how much had changed? This had all started after the heat hurt him. Had he been messed with even more?
{Designation: Megatron, contacting sparkling. Respond.}
Stop it! Harry screeched, backing against a wall even as he knew he could run away from the voice. He was trapped in this body, with these voices and pains without any way out. It was suffocating. Once again, his needless intake of air began shallow and Harry's vision blurred momentarily.
The message stopped playing for a while, the window remained still and focused. Harry straightened against the wall and tried to regulate his breathing. Even he was irritated by his own cries, they were pointless and no one ever responded. Harry had made it a point to never sob in front of the Dursleys after being locked away for his noise making without a lick of sympathy for his burnt fingers.
What had Harry done during the worst of his punishments? It was hard to focus through his own panic. The memory was dim, but Harry felt breathing through the pain in his chest and fear in his head was the best technique.
{Designation: Megatron, contacting sparkling. Communicate through your comm link window.} The gibberish that wasn't gibberish sounded softer and slower than before, though no less base and gravelly. Was this a...person? Harry flinched but tried to gather up his bravery. He was put inside a robot and left in a room all by himself, what else could happen to him?
Harry pulled at his butterfly window, which had gotten quite solid after the static dropped. It surged forward and Harry hissed. It was so terrifying, knowing nothing about yourself down to the tiniest detail.
Taking a fortifying breath, Harry wrapped his metallic arms around his pointed shoulders and responded. {W-who are you?}
The format was different, Harry knew that instinctively. Not knowing what else to do, he let his strangely pinging words ring through his head as the corresponding symbols flashed past his eyes. Then they were gone, and the butterfly window that was now nothing like a butterfly window buzzed.
What had Harry done? It was nothing like talking, Harry couldn't even speak English anymore, his mouth just wouldn't move correctly and his brain had no idea how to process the differences. It was bizarre, being able to comprehend something that was now absolutely impossible for him to understand currently.
It took what felt like ten minutes for anything else to happen, but Harry couldn't be sure. The numbers in his head were always moving to a rhythm that wasn't charted and he didn't have a watch. Well, Harry did have a watch, but it wasn't given back to him when those men in white turned him into a robot.
{Designation: Megatron, contacting sparkling. Use proper comm protocol to communicate directly to me, or your message is public and undirected. What is your designation?} This message was longer than the others and didn't make any sense. Who was this person? What was a designation? How was he messaging the public, he wasn't even speaking aloud. Confused, Harry pulled his window again and was prepared for the sudden leap forward. This expecation soothed him more than he expected.
{What's a designation? Who are you? What's going on?} Harry was also adjusting to the time it took to get a response, and wasn't waiting in suspense the entire time.
{Designation: Megatron, contacting sparkling. Your designation is your title by which others call you. My designation is Lord Megatron, as I have already stated for both comm protocol and to direct my message to you without having it slow down for public usage. Mimic my introduction, this is time consuming.} The longest message by far, and the voice was now tense and gutteral. He was angry, what had Harry done to make him angry? It seemed like all Harry ever did was make others hate him. First the Dursleys, then the old man, then the cube, and now this person. Lord Megatron...
Was Megatron royalty? It was a very odd name, maybe he was from a faraway country. Where was Harry? It didn't look like Hoover Dam, but neither had the inside of it. Pulling himself away from his daydreams, Harry focused on the message's instructions.
Mimic his introduction? Was it like how Dudley had to sign into his computer and put someone else's address in before he was able to talk to his friends online? It was worth a shot, so long as Lord Megatron didn't hate him anymore.
{D-designation: Megatron, contacting sparkling. Like this?}
Nothing happened. The message didn't disappear and there was no response no matter how long he waited. Had Harry been abandoned once again? What was wrong? What mistake had he committed this time? Frustration filled him with nausea, he was so confused.
Wrapped in on himself all the tighter, Harry thought hard about what to do. He didn't want to be alone in the cell, he didn't want this lord to stop talking to him. What could he do?
What did Dudley do exactly? What had Harry done wrong?
Then it hit him. Harry had signed in as Lord Megatron and sent the mail to someone named Sparkling! Maybe Lord Megatron hadn't recieved the message and thus couldn't respond. Hope surged and Harry desperately began to rewrite his message.
{Designation: Harry, contacting Lord Megatron. Please answer!}
He sent it successfuly and sank back down to the floor in relief. He prayed the lord would answer him, he hated being alone in the white room. It was scary to be by himself, to face only his own monstrous body without anyone to distract him.
{Designation: Megatron, contacting sparkling. Correct, our messages will now be private and immediate. What is a Haeri? That isn't a proper designation.} Just as the lord said, his message came much more quickly than the last, and it made a funny click in his head, like an alert. Harry let the praise wash over him like a shower after working the flower beds all afternoon, it felt so nice.
Still, Harry had done something wrong. What was wrong with his name? Had he misunderstood what a designation was? Lord Megatron had said it was something others called him. Harry supposed that didn't mean a name, it was literally only what others called him. What was Harry called the most, if not his name?
Oh, yes. Harry had definitely gotten this wrong.
{Designation: Freak, contacting Lord Megatron. Sorry, sir! I didn't know a designation is just what others call you.}
Harry let the window drop and waited. The time stretched again, the pause between answers had increased. What was wrong? Had he gotten his designation wrong again? Maybe he should have used 'Potter' like his teachers did, or 'Boy' like the Dursleys did on good days. Why had Harry used freak?
Even if it was right, Lord Megatron would now know he was abnormal and was probably ignoring him now. Harry should have lied, even the cube had left him once it had understood how freakish he was.
As Harry slipped into depression, a message blipped across his window.
{Designation: Megatron, contacting sparkling. Incorrect. Not only is this designation improper, it is completely unacceptable. You are forbidden from using it.}
Harry gave an audible yelp, Lord Megatron sounded so angry! Harry had messed up again, he made the only person willing to speak with him disgusted with him. How could Harry fix it?
Megatron was angry about his designation, so how else could he send his messages? Harry was spared from worrying about it, however, when another reply was placed.
{Designation: Megatron, contacting sparkling. As you are undesignated, I shall give you one to use. Be grateful.} Lord Megatron sounded much calmer again, as soft spoken as he can get with such a large voice. Harry relaxed, at least he'd been forgiven. Maybe he could figure out how to contact the cube and that will please it enough to forgive him as well?
Lord Megatron was going to give him a designation, does this mean he's naming Harry? Harry wasn't allowed to use any other name, did this mean he couldn't be Harry anymore? Harry didn't mind not using Harry anymore. No one ever called him Harry before, only teachers during roll call would even mention his name, and he wasn't allowed to respond back past an arm raised.
Harry waited patiently for his new name. He didn't mind using a different designation, but he wasn't so sure he could just forget about his old name. It was the only thing his parents left him, after all. And one of the last things he still had before his punishment. Could Harry use his new name and still consider himself Harry?
He supposed he would find out. The butterfly window clicked and Harry quickly opened the new response. What would Lord Megatron call him?
{Designation: Megatron, contacting sparkling...
That was a bit mean, huh? XD I already have the next chapter written up, so I've got the name all set up. The comm. thing is still in the works (AKA totally making it up as I go along) so try not to call me out on too much, kay? Megatron used a really strong public transmission with the help of his leader class comm. unit to get the word out on the Allspark, by the by.
Anyone want to take a guess at what Megatron is going to call Harry?
UPDATE- Yeah, I decided Megs should come off a bit cooler at first. But don't worry, he still had his freak out. It was just internalized.