Jack spent an uneventful weekend at home, under the watchful eye of his mother. Though it was the boy's first instinct to go to the base, he didn't have that luxury. With his partner exiled from the house, he didn't have a ride. Mom refused to take him there, with the excuse he was still healing. So he was stuck catching up with a week's worth of homework.

Then it was another week of school, and Jack had to find ways of transportation. When Mom couldn't drive him herself, either Raf and Bumblebee or Miko and Bulkhead gave him a ride to and from school. Mom said he couldn't drive an alien robot, she said nothing taking a lift with one.

Though it was significantly better than his hand-me-down bicycle, Jack still found it less favorable than his own transportation. Apparently part of Miko's morning ritual was listening to Slash Monkeys. On full blast. Jack, not a fan of Bulgarian shriek metal, found the experience less than enjoyable. Though rides with Raf were significantly quieter, most of time was spent with Raf and Bumblebee talking to each other in practically their own language. If Jack happened to be involved in the conversation, Raf translated mostly what the speech-impaired Transformer was saying. If the 'Bot wanted to talk directly to sixteen-year-old, he would manipulate the radio frequencies to speak for him.

So Jack had a choice between being deaf or being the third-wheel.

School itself was routine. The junior caught up quickly and returned to dozing in lectures, making a failed attempt to appear that he was alert. No one seemed to notice his disappearance, not even his teachers. Especially not Sierra, who true to Miko's word, was head over heels over Vince. The jock held a possessive arm over her at all times, and Jack one too many times witnessed them committing more intimate acts. It made Jack's stomach churn to the point he almost became nauseas again.

He pointedly ignored Sierra's giggles from something Vince was whispering in her ear as Jack stared out the window, ignoring the monotone voice of his biology teacher. Instead he was thinking of Arcee.

Jack had not seen his guardian since she left the hospital. The emptiness of the garage was like the emptiness of his heart. Arcee had tweaked his phone so it could connect directly to her com-link, but she did not to reply to any of his texts. The army brat had gone to the base only once, but the little Transformer was oddly vacant, supposedly on patrol. The human knew it was a lie, if the torn expressions on the Autobots was anything to go by.

Jack's stomach knotted. He knew Arcee wasn't angry with him. She was guilty, as if her exile was her own fault. As if her presence alone would put him in danger. Jack wanted to talk to her, just once, to tell her it wasn't true. He missed his friend.

"Jack Darby."

Jack jumped at Megatron's deep, menacing voice. His heart jumped to his throat. How—? He twisted around, fight or flight instincts kicking in, only to meet the leer of Mr. Herman.

"Yes?" the teenager gulped.

"Answer the question, Jack Darby," the instructor demanded. Jack wanted to shrink when he realized all eyes were boring into him.

"Um, what question?"

Laughter. Mr. Herman rolled his eyes. The student's cheeks reddened.

"The bark scorpion, would it be considered an insect?" the teacher asked.

…When the hell did that come up.

"Er… yes?" Jack guessed.

"No."

"Oh."

Another round of laughter.

"Maybe if you bothered to do the reading last night, you might know that."

Jack would have, but he left his biology textbook at the base, which he was practically banned from. Plus he had hundred calculus problems he had to finish. Mr. Herman picked another victim.

"Vince Chase, can you explain to the class why it is not an insect?"

The teacher turned his back to the class, already expecting an answer, allowing Sierra to whisper in Vince's ear.

"The bark scorpion—whoever came up with that one was high." Mr. Herman had to shush the class's laughter. "Is part of class Arachnida, because it has eight legs, not class Insecta, which only has six legs."

"Correct."

Vince sent a smug look in Jack's direction. The junior rolled his eyes. As if answering a bug question was an accomplishment. Nonetheless, the teenager was one of the first ones out when the dismissal bell rung. He scurried down the stairs to his next class, not seeing the limb stuck in his path in time. It collided with his leg with force. His bad leg.

Jack yelped as he tripped over the obstacle and summersaulted all the way down the staircase, crashing into a heap on the ground. Over his disoriented moans, he heard a malicious cackle. Vince.

"Watch your step, Darby," the other teen advised in a smug tone. "Hate for you to lose a week from another fall."

Jack quickly got to his feet, trying to regain his dignity. He didn't have much to lose, because only a couple glances were sent this way. He was greeted with his tormenter's freckled face.

"Heard you lost that bike of yours," Vince mocked. Jack tried to walk around him. The bully blocked him off. "Probably for the best. One less bad driver off the road." The bully sneered. "And I was getting tired of looking at how ugly it was, anyway."

Jack fought back a sigh. "You done?"

"Might want to go clean that up," Vince offered instead, gesturing his own cheek. "You look unattractive with that." He turned around to finally leave, but then paused and looked over his shoulder. "Well, more than usual, anyway."

Whatever book Vince was getting these insults from, Jack did not want to read it. Nonetheless, he wiped his face, looking at his hand to see a smear of blood.

"You shouldn't let him push you around like that," Miko's voice came from behind him.

"He just wants attention," the teenager replied.

"Not if he keeps tormenting you." Now the Japanese girl was blocking his way. Oh, he just wanted to get to class! "Come on, Jack! Stand up for yourself!"

"I'll think about it."

With that, he turned around, hurrying to the closest bathroom to dress his wound. Thankfully it was barren, as students were using the last minute of break to make to their lectures. Jack glanced at the mirror, only to notice a bloody gash on his cheek. He couldn't get a break.

The student ignored the bell as he cupped water in his hand, splashing it on his face. The raw tissue stung, but he tough out the pain until his face was clear of red. Jack straightened, reaching for the paper towels to dry himself off.

Only to see Megatron's fangs smirking at him.

Jack yelped and spun around, pressing his back to the sink. He found himself alone. But he was just— The boy glanced at the mirror again, only to see his own reflection. No Megatron, standing menacingly behind him. His grip on the sink tightened until his knuckles turned white.


Jack had work later that day. Raf dropped him off, and Mom texted she would come pick him up from her own shift.

It seemed his boss was the only one that cared that the boy was missing, as he demanded why the employee had missed five shifts. Jack explained the cover story and his medical excuse, trying to save his job. It seemed to satisfy the manager enough to give him mercy, but he still gave the boy an indignant look and left with a mutter. The rest of the shift was spent without incident. It wasn't until he clocked out that he checked his phone.

One from Mom, saying she would be an hour late.

And still none from Arcee.

Jack sighed.

"Damn," a voice gasped. Kyle, the only co-worker Jack tolerated enough to be friendly with. He was staring out the window, jaw dropped. He looked over at Jack when he noticed the boy was watching. "Did you see this car out here?"

"What is it?" Jack asked curiously, nearing.

In a town full of second or third generation cars that went no faster than 45 miles per hour, the teenager wondered what could possibly impress his friend.

"This sweet Aston Martin." When Jack just stared, Kyle elaborated, waving a hand in exasperation, "It's a sports car. Ever see a James Bond movie?"

A sports car in Jasper. Didn't hear that every day. Intrigued, the teenager settled next to his friend. Only for his heart to stop.

Sure enough, the vehicle in the parking lot was an Aston Martin. A bright red, shiny Aston Martin. Jack had seen that vehicle before.

Knock Out.

The boy recoiled from the window like it was going to explode. His heart started racing. Suddenly dark, ominous walls surrounded him, cold air pressing against his skin. He blinked the memory away, and he found himself having a panic attack in K.O. Burgers.

What was Knock Out doing here? Maybe he couldn't stand the idea of a C-ranked human eatery having the same name as him. But then again, the Decepticon wasn't in berserk mode, like Jack would expect him to be. Instead, sports car sat across from the main entrance, as if he was… waiting.

The teenager blanched. Knock Out knew he was here. Not good. Not good at all.

Kyle didn't seem to notice Jack's breakdown, still ogling the car. Oh, if only he knew. Taking advantage that his companion was distracted, the junior dialed a number. Only to retrieve static.

Jack cursed. Knock Out was scrambling the signal. That meant the cavalry wasn't coming. The teenager doubted he could slip away, either. The Decepticon was no doubt alert to his presence, and the human as sure as hell wasn't outrunning a sports vehicle.

Jack looked out the window, trying to think of options he did not have, only for a pit to form in his stomach. A pitch-black Dodge Charger with flames painted on its sides pulled into the lot, settling next to the Aston Martin. Vince. Posy included. They must have come to torment Jack, but as the school bully stepped out of his car, he found a new victim.

"Well, what do we have here?" Vince purred, a disdainful leer on the robot-in-disguise.

"No, no, no," Jack muttered under his breath.

His plea was unheard as the posy circled the Aston Martin like a pack of wolves. The light of sunset reflected off of the side-view mirror as it watched them, dangerously.

"Someone thinks they own the hottest car in town, huh?" Vince sneered, settling on the driver's side. Jack knew that sneer.

Don't key him, don't key him, don't key him, the boy prayed.

One of Vince's buddies, the teen couldn't remember his name, leaned on the hood of the car, leaving oily fingerprints. Another nearly doubled over, trying to peer through the blacked-out window, muttering that he couldn't see.

"Probably 'cause it has a shitty interior," the third little minion jeered. Vince's sneer turned nasty.

"How about we find out?" he suggested, raising a padded elbow to the window. They didn't find out.

Suddenly there was a high-pitched, electric sound. Jack winced. Vince and his goons went down, unconscious.

"What was that?" Kyle cried.

Jack didn't answer. He burst out the back door, already jumping into a sprint. The growl of an engine came from around the corner. Jack ran faster. The engine came closer. The teenager cursed that the fast food joint was on its own little plot of land, disconnected from everything else. He just had to cross the street—

There was a loud squeal of tires, and steel collided into Jack.

Thankfully Knock Out's hood was low, so that the human merely rolled onto it rather than being thrown across the ground. With a groan, the boy slid off, gripping his abused limb. Why was everyone targeting his leg today?

"Gotcha," Knock Out said triumphantly.

"Says you," Jack hissed through gritted teeth.

Swallowing down the pain, the teenager leaped back to his feet and continued his sprint. There was an angry rev and another squeal as Knock Out tore after him, continuing the chase once again.

Jack made it across the street, now he had to make it across yet another parking lot, this one for the town's only shopping center. It was nearly empty, only a few deserted cars, allowing the military brat a straight shot towards the line of stores. If he made it into one of them, Knock Out couldn't come after him. However, the Decepticon had a straight shot, too.

Jack heard the purr of the sports car behind him, right on his heels. He knew Knock Out could easily run him over again, but he didn't. The 'Con was toying with him. Suddenly there was a shriek above the teenager.

Jack yelped as something hard slapped the side of his head. He raised his arms in defense, just in time to fight off a black mass pouncing on him. Sharp edges sliced into his arms and shoulders, not deep, but harassing. Jack recoiled, trying to get away from his attacker.

He was greeted with a metal monster. It looked like a bird of prey, blades of metal making up broad wings and talons for feet. A wicked looking tail whipped at the air and a long neck ended at a sharp beak. Malicious crimson optics stared down at the human like a vulture finding a meal. Laserbeak, Soundwave's surveillance drone.

No bigger than a human, the cassette was a tiny Decepticon, but just as vicious. Laserbeak swooped down for another attack, forcing Jack to stumble back. Right into Knock Out. Once again the human fell on the hood and slid to the ground. He pinned himself against the frame as Laserbeak didn't repent. There was a click of a car door opening.

"I would get in if I were you," Knock Out suggested.

Jack gritted his teeth, refusing. Laserbeak bit into his hand, drawing blood.

"But it's really your choice," the medic went on.

Jack cursed, loudly. He jumped to his feet only to duck away from the vicious vulture. He dived into the exposed passenger seat of the Aston Martin. The door clicked closed. Laserbeak let out a squawk that almost sounded like a laugh. With a flap of wings, the flying little demon flew away.

Jack panted, shoulders heaving, as his heart hammered in his chest. Between the sprint and the assault, his head felt light from the adrenaline. Knock Out merely strapped him into place, fiber of the seatbelt unrelenting. He pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street. Jack tried to determine where the Decepticon was headed.

"What do you want?" the captive demanded.

"Lord Megatron has requested an audience with you," Knock Out simply replied.

Immediately Jack's blood turned to ice. It had been a week since his captivity in the evil tyrant's hands. Strangely, he still couldn't remember much. Every time he tried to think back, he only remembered dark walls and hellish optics. Ratchet hypothesized he must have been unconscious in some sort coma, and when he couldn't offer anything to the Decepticons, they had no further use for him. Agent Fowler, on the other hand, guessed that they did something to Jack, and the boy merely blacked it out as a form of post-traumatic stress disorder. However, both were confused why Megatron, a ruthless dictator, would spare his enemy.

Just like Jack was confused why Megatron was asking for him. His stomach knotted. Knock Out drove towards the outskirts of town, but not straight to the desert like Jack expected. The boy heard no report, no request for a groundbridge. It made him more confused, and more anxious. Didn't the Decepticon say Megatron wanted to see him?

Finally Jack recognized the Aston Martin was headed to the old jewelry factory, right outside the town borders. The boy remembered it was built by some jewelry manufacturer, who wanted to cheat the system and build on a plot of land that didn't require huge amount of tax.

Not surprisingly, a plant in the middle of the desert didn't work out, mostly because it was too far away from everything deliver materials or transport inventory. The fact is had a long list of safety violations didn't help, either.

The plant was left abandoned, over a decade ago. Jack went there only once with a couple friends. Sure enough, they found discarded gems and rare minerals, even a diamond ring, but most of it had been stripped by looters that came before them.

Jack suspected Knock Out had more nefarious reasons for bringing him here. The sports car pulled around to the back, revealing the large dock, its massive garage door opened. Jack's stomach twisted. That wasn't supposed to be open…

Knock Out comfortably drove into the building, encasing the prisoner in shadow. Massive machines that made an absurd assembly line towered over the car, but they didn't distract Jack from what took up almost the entire building.

Megatron.

The Decepticon warlord was kneeling low, as the main expanse of the factory was only a couple of stories high—too small for the titan. In the shadows of the warehouse, the spiked armor looked menacing. Jack trembled as he could feel those crimson optics boring into him through the windshield. Knock Out came to a halt before his master.

The confining straps around Jack's chest retreated and the door popped open. Realizing he had no choice, the teenager slowly, cautiously, stepped out of the Decepticon's cab. He practically had to climb to his feet and even in the gloominess he could still see his reflection in the side door.

"Come here, boy," Megatron rumbled in a gruff order.

Jack gulped. He took a step forward.

"Closer."

The teenager hesitantly obeyed, until he was underneath the monster's intimidating shadow. He tried not to tremble, and did not look at his captor, instead staring at the ground. He flinched when the titan's huge servo came behind him, blocking his escape.

The sterling giant tilted his head. "How are you feeling, little one?"

The question was asked in a soft, almost gentle tone, coming out as a low purr instead of a dangerous growl. It still made Jack wince, deciding it was more terrifying coming from the heartless beast. He went with the only defense he had: sarcasm.

"Oh, just dandy," he snapped. "You should try the food at the hospital some time. The beef stew is awesome."

Jack knew Megatron couldn't care less to what he was saying, and half-expected for the Decepticon to backhand him across the expansive room. Instead, the giant only smirked at his spunky attitude.

"Better, I see," he observed. "That is good."

Something in the words made Jack decide it was not good.

"What do you want, Megatron?" the human demanded.

"A favor."

Instantly the boy's chest tightened. Definitely not good.

"You honestly I'm going to make another deal with you?" Jack challenged. Plating shifted as Megatron chuckled darkly.

"You misunderstand, my dear Jack—" The human flinched at the mention of his name. "—I have not come to negotiate. You will comply."

"And if I don't?"

"You are certainly more valiant than the last time we spoke," Megatron chuckled.

Jack didn't feel anymore brave, especially being reminded how he got in this horrible situation to begin with. Underneath that terrible gaze, he wanted to shrink into a ball and disappear. Maybe the reason he was keeping it together was because the teen had seen death in the face and walked away, or that he had a week to recover his senses. Or his natural defense mechanisms had finally decided to kick in.

Whatever the reason, Jack didn't understand why Megatron was so amused by his open defiance. Didn't intergalactic dictators expect total compliance?

"You're going to retrieve something for me," Megatron went on, interrupting Jack's thoughts. It wasn't a request. The army brat stayed strong.

"Why me?" the boy asked. "Can't you just send one of your goons to do the job for you?"
"Normally that would be the case. However, what I require can only be accessed by a human."

Jack's brain racked with what he could possibly get but the Decepticons, a highly advanced civilization, couldn't. He couldn't come up with anything.

Frustrated he couldn't think of an answer, and curiosity getting the best of him, the teenager demanded, "And what would that be?"

"Knowledge." Jack didn't like the sound of that, if the flash of wicked denta was anything to go by. "From your… ah, what do you call it, your security headquarters?"

Megatron made it sound like it was an innocent question, but it only made the human confused and anxious. What? Security headquarters? Being living weapons, the Autobot's didn't have security. Jack doubted Jasper's sheriff's office counted. National security? But that didn't make sense. The closest thing to a headquarters for that was—

"The P-P-Pentagon?" Jack sputtered in a high-pitched yelp.

The sixteen-year-old knew he had to be wrong, even looking to his captor for confirmation. He was only greeted with Megatron's satisfied look. His mind tried to wrap around the idea for a full minute, but failed and he spat out the first thing that came to mind.

"You're crazy! Y-you want me to break into the fragging Pentagon?"

The warlord's grin widened. "If that is what it is in your terms."

Somehow saying it aloud and hearing it confirmed seemed to ground Jack to reality. But it didn't make the idea any less absurd. The Decepticons couldn't possibly think that he, a high school student, could just walk in the military headquarters and check out classified files like it was a public library.

Megatron said he wanted knowledge. The Decepticons wanted military secrets. To use against the humans, or…

Find the Autobot base.

"N-no way," Jack shook his head. "I'm not doing that!" He glared up at the insane monster above him. "I couldn't, even if I wanted to."

"Why so?" Megatron asked, undeterred.

"I… I don't have access," the human explained, repeating the Decepticon's earlier phrasing. "I can't just walk in."

"You are the heir to a soldier, yes?"

"I could be son of the president and I wouldn't be allowed in!" The boy furiously shook his head again, as if trying to wake himself up from a horrible nightmare. "I won't do it. You won't make me work for you again."

Megatron tilted his head. "Even if it means sparing the lives of those you hold dear?"

Reliving the pain of losing a loved one. That is what you fear.

Jack's chest tightened, painfully.

"W-what are you talking about?" he asked in a cautious, hushed voice. He knew the answer. Megatron replied with a question of his own, and it threw Jack off balance.

"Tell me, did you find that book you were looking for?" the tyrant randomly asked.

What the hell did that—

"Mom, have you seen my textbook?"

Jack blanched as the suppressed memories came flooding back. Knock Out, using a cable to invade his nervous system, in order to learn enough about his biology to translate into Cybertronian coding. For the cortical psychic patch. He remembered how Megatron was there, watching his most secretive and most intimate memories, taking amusement from his misery. Including—

"Nononono," Jack murmured rapidly, backpedaling. Right into Megatron's servo.

He didn't even notice, his heart rate spiking as all the air was ripped from his lungs. He instantly realized Megatron must have noticed his abandoned biology textbook. In the base. Jack told them.

"Th-the Autobots—" Jack stammered, but he couldn't finish the question. He didn't have to.

"Alive," Megatron assured. "Airachnid is currently entertaining them at the Harbinger."

Jack started trembling. Violently. Megatron was at the base.

"Quaint little place," the Decepticon mocked. "I see why Optimus has taken a liking to it."

"Y-you…" Jack hissed. When Megatron leaned forward, like he couldn't hear, the teenager rose his voice to a shrill yell. "You slagging bastard!"

The warlord merely gave a dark chuckle at his outburst. "As I recall, you were the one that provided us the information."

Jack violently flinched at the casual words. It was his memories. He showed the Decepticons exactly where to find the base. All because he was naïve to believe Megatron, stupid to make the mistake of sparing him, and too weak to resist.

"I wonder…" Megatron mused in a deadly purr, "what would your friends think? Optimus may be forgiving, but what of Arcee?"

Jack's throat constricted. They wouldn't forgive him. It would be all his fault. The boy didn't realize his back was leaning heavily against Megatron's palm, his shaking legs no longer able to properly support him. It took all his willpower not to collapse. He stared at the ground, trying to focus on standing up. He was not allowed that luxury.

Suddenly something cold touched his chin and forced his head up. When it could just as easily broken his neck. Jack looked into cold, blood-red optics.

"Do what you are told," Megatron growled. It was an order, that was not to be refused. "And I will allow the Autobots to remain unharmed."

Jack shut his eyes, tight. Never in his life did he want to disappear than at that moment. He blocked out the suffocating presence of the monster surrounding him. He thought of the Autobots. Optimus Prime, and his calm, wise presence, who fought for others, for what was right, and never for himself. Like what a soldier should be. Bulkhead, the gentle giant of the group, who was always so easy to talk to. Bumblebee was always filled with energy, and always managed to infect the kids with it. Even Ratchet, as gruff as he was, was likeable in his own way, as it was those rare moments of softness that revealed that he truly cared.

And Acree… His guardian. His friend. His partner.

They all would die, and it would be Jack's fault. He swallowed. His throat felt raw. The next words were the most painful in his entire life.

"What… do you want me to do," he forced out in a low, strained voice.

He didn't look at the warlord above him. He didn't have to, to know that his predatory optics flared and that he wore a wicked, shark-like smile of triumph.

"Hold out your hand," Megatron commanded.

Jack opened a trembling palm. The warlord shifted and there was a clicking noise. Suddenly a tiny black object fell into the boy's hand. It was smooth, black metal that sharp edges made up a small rectangle. Jack turned the device in his hand, trying to figure out its function. It almost looked like a wicked USB drive. He glanced up at Megatron.

"You will use this device will assist you in your task," the Decepticon leader explained.

"What if I don't know how?" Jack asked, curling his fingers around the object.

Megatron grinned darkly. "I have every confidence you will find a way."

Jack merely gulped and stared at his fist.

"You have two days," the tyrant went on. "Tell any of the Autobots of this, or fail to complete your task in time, well—" He gave an amused huff. "I will know."

Jack had seen enough spy movies to know the consequences should he defy Megatron. Then again, his stomach knotted at the deadline. Only two days, to get all the way to Washington D.C. and hack into the defense network (oh, God, just thinking it was surreal), and prevent anyone knowing about it.

"T-that's not enough time," Jack tried to protest.

Megatron growled threateningly. The boy shrunk. He will obey. Or it would be his friends that would pay the price. The Decepticon leader glanced at the Aston Martin that was waiting patiently.

"Knock Out, you will return the human to his home," the silver titan ordered.

Jack couldn't tell if the following growl was an affirmative or a groan. Then again, he doubted the vain Decepticon appreciated being downgraded to a chauffeur. The teen merely stared at the ground between his feet, his nails painfully digging into his palms. His migraine had returned with a vengeance and his throat was raw. So swallowed up in his misery, Jack jumped when Megatron's cold claw ran up his back.

"I trust you will not disappoint me, Jack," the devil grinned with sharp fangs, purring out his name.

The boy felt sick.

He had dealt with the devil. Now his soul belonged to Megatron.


And the plot thickens.

I decided to use Bayverse's version of Laserbeak rather than Prime, because honestly, I simply like the design better.