A/N: Thank you again to all of my reviewers. And favourites and alerts too. I hope you've all been enjoying the journey so far. I realise this is late. I have had many things going on in my life recently, which is why this is not the usual weekly update. Not only that, but I also needed time to think about where I wanted to take this, take the characters.
Warnings: Psycho Megatron, slash, kissing.
Disclaimer: No, transformers is in no way mine.
Turning Point – Chapter 21
"What?"
The low voice was a dangerous whisper, but it echoed throughout the command centre, devoid of all others apart from the two mecha there.
Octane suppressed the urge to flinch. "It's confirmed my Lord. Shockwave has been defeated and taken by the Autobots back to their base."
Megatron's optics burned brightly in his face as he asked sharply, "Impossible. How?"
Shifting from side to side, very tempted to cower to appease his leader's ire, Octane said, "Shockwave did as you asked. He waited until one of the deserters came out of the base. It was Soundwave. They talked for a few moments, and then Soundwave initiated battle. They fought. Shockwave pinned Soundwave but he…he went wild. I'm not sure, but I think he used telepathy. He brought Shockwave to the ground and stood there until Starscream arrived. Shockwave moved, and Starscream let out…uh…well…he screamed, my lord. It felled Shockwave. He didn't even twitch. It was like he was-"
"Processor dead," Megatron finished off, tone still scarily quiet.
"Er…yes sir," finished Octane nervously.
Megatron did not move, did not speak, for a full minute, his optics fixed on his underling. Then he barked, "Get out of my sight."
As the triple changer left, the grey mech was still as he felt his rage build, and build, and build. At his pinnacle, he let loose with a mighty roar.
"I'LL HAVE YOUR HELMS MELTED ON A PIKE!" he bellowed to the not present forms of Soundwave and Starscream. He continued to yell unintelligibly, all the while mourning for the loss of his one truly loyal officer. Shockwave who had adored him, had seen his vision and followed – to dominate, to rule.
He fired his cannon randomly at the walls, destroying a bulkhead, a computer console, part of his throne…
"You'll pay, you'll pay, you'll pay," Megatron ranted, becoming a dark chant as destruction bubbled in his energon lines. After all he had done, after all of his conquest, he would not be brought down by some weaklings! He was the mighty Lord Megatron! He wanted to be paid his dues. He had worked too hard for too long to lose, to let the Decepticon cause die. Snarling, finding his cannon insufficient in sating his need and rage, Megatron whirled around the room like a storm, kicking and punching at the walls.
Finally, when his rage abated, a solid thought formed. 'I must retrieve Shockwave at all costs.'
Soundwave grunted as he hit the training floor mat for the third time in a row.
Introductory training with Ironhide was proving to be an experience in toughing it out and patience, not to mention a lesson in ignoring the other Autobots around. Some snickered each time he fell, others were neutral. His cassettes, at least, were providing him with silent support from the sidelines.
"A'right, ya know whatcha did wrong that time?" the red warrior asked, crossing his arms in expectation.
"Explanation: reaction time too slow," intoned Soundwave through his mask, engaged for the sparring.
Nodding, Ironhide expanded on his words. "Not only that, but ya're tryin' to rely on my style, 'stead of goin' with the flow and lettin' instinct guide ya. Ya're bein' too rigid. Rigid is good sometimes, but ya gotta adjust to ya opponent. Ya ain't doin' that. Now, up 'n' try again."
Well, at least the old warrior was fair.
Getting up, Soundwave once more dropped into the ready position, concentrating on loosening his joints. He conjured up the thought of the waterfall, imagining the flow of water over the rocks, the freeness of the movement that liquid had. When Ironhide's look turned to one of approval, he knew he had gotten his stance right. When Ironhide lunged forward, he twisted to the side, bringing his knee up, but was pushed away by a strong hand. Instead of falling to the floor like every other time, he rolled before standing upright.
"Now we're talkin'," the red mech praised, bouncing on the balls of his pedes and taunting his opponent with a quirked finger.
The blue mech ignored it. He preferred for his opponents to come to him.
"C'mon, ya gotta learn to be on the offensive too," goaded Ironhide, beckoning again with a frown.
Deciding to figuratively 'bite the bullet,' Soundwave lurched forward, one hand by his hip and the other up in front of him. He jabbed out with his lower hand and then moved to the side just in case Ironhide aimed in the place where he was. He tried to deliver a back-handed blow, but found his fist caught in the grip. It felt like something cold slid down his spine, a flicker of memory teasing at his conscious…
'No. Focus,' he told himself. He was stronger than this.
He had to be stronger than this.
Twisting his arm out of the grip, he messily dodged a roundhouse kick, but recovered with a series of punches that put Ironhide on the defensive. The old mech was obviously hiding back his full ability, but he was smirking as he defended himself and even found his efforts to turn the tables blocked a few times. He ducked low, intending to uppercut the red mech with his full power, but left his neck bared for just a moment. A moment was all Ironhide needed to grab him by his neck and pull him, tossing him over to the far side of the mat with a grunt. Soundwave found himself disoriented for a moment and then a weight pinning him.
Suddenly his processor couldn't disassociate between the training exercise and his past trauma. He bucked, letting out a harsh cry of protest.
His optics were open, but he couldn't see, blinded by the illusion of a heavy mech on top of him. He continued to thrash long after the pressure lifted, panting hard.
As quickly as it had happened, the fog lifted and he could see the concerned faces of his cassettes above him. Ironhide was above them as well, frowning, and in his optics Soundwave saw the sympathy. He was reminded that Ironhide had been there that night about 5 weeks ago now. He had seen the tell tale stains. A hot rush of humiliation flooded him and he pushed himself up. There were other mechs around. They had seen what he had just done. Pushing away his creations (as loathe as was to do so), Soundwave hurried out. He would not look up. He did not want to see their sneers, did not want to see their pity.
The hallways of what was now his home blurred. He flung himself into his and Blaster's quarters, ignoring his friend's startled shout, and barricaded himself in his room. He collapsed onto the berth in a mix of embarrassment and anger.
"Why won't the memories go away?" he moaned piteously.
He should have been over this! It wasn't fair that he couldn't just live! No, that fragger had to haunt him wherever he went, didn't he? He couldn't even do a simple training exercise without bursting into fits! He sobbed angry tears. Why? Why, why, why? He wanted to move past his abuse, so why did he keep reverting? The memories of the pressure on him, the pain, the excruciating pain, threatened to rise to the forefront of his mind once more.
Everything had been going so well, too. He had managed to fight against Ironhide, and pretty well, considering how out of practice he was, and how experienced the older mech was.
And then his utter shame that he had writhed and cried out like a frightened sparkling in front of both his cassettes and other Autobots. He and the Seeker's had managed to conceal the true story of what happened on the Decepticon base from public scrutiny. He hoped that this wouldn't open up a new round of questioning.
"Soundwave? What's wrong Main Machine, ya looked pretty spooked," Blaster called through the door.
Soundwave huffed and opened the door. As usual, there was Blaster, ready to offer an open audial. He stepped back, letting the other mech in, who's expression had adopted that worried frown he had been wearing lately.
"'Wave, I'm worried about you. You haven't talked to me at all in the past few days." Blaster said, sitting on the berth and patting the space next to him in invitation. Soundwave accepted. Although, instead of sitting with their shoulders touching, the telepath had skimmed the other mechs processor and found that he wanted to embrace him. So he grabbed Blaster's arm, guided them back so they were laying down, and leaned his helm on a red shoulder.
He had felt awkward, thinking about snuggling up like this, but when Blaster looped an arm around his shoulders, he relaxed. It felt nice.
"Just another flashback," he said quietly.
Blaster winced. "In the training room?"
"Yes."
"Trigger?"
Soundwave shuttered his optics, still smarting from the acute embarrassment. "Ironhide avoided getting a hit from me by tossing me to the ground and pinning me during a spar. It shouldn't have…but the pressure-"
"Easy," crooned the boom box, "it's okay."
"No it's not," Soundwave whispered harshly, looking up into his friend's optics. "It's not. I should be my usual self. I should be functioning normally. Not remembering details of what I suffered under that…that glitch. Everything I was has been ripped away from me and now getting it back seems near impossible."
Blaster was silent for a moment, and then he replied cautiously, "So…you want to be the emotionless telepath then whose only thought was to follow?"
Soundwave was ready to hiss at him, feeling betrayed, then realised what the other mech was pointing out. Finally, he replied, "No."
The red mech murmured, "I didn't like your 'usual' you while you were a Con. If everything has been ripped away from you…maybe it's just another chance to start again." As the blue mech pondered this, he went on, "I, for one, am proud of you 'Wave. I mean, mechs or femmes don't bounce back from this easily. I know you're frustrated. I would be too. I'd want to be back to my life, rockin' out tunes and having a good time. But we gotta let ourselves heal."
Sighing shakily, the tapedeck muttered, "Thank you. You always seem to have the right words at the right times."
The red mech shrugged, saying, "Hey, it's the least I can do. You are my best friend after all."
Soundwave fought a blush coming to his face. He was reminded how much more Blaster thought of him that just 'friends.' His anger subsided, as did his humiliation, but they were a bad aftertaste in the background compared to his renewed thoughts on the red boom box. Blaster was in love with him, which is why he cared for him, was so good to him. Embracing on the berth as they were, Soundwave thought that he would have been uncomfortable in such close contact. But the knowledge of Blaster's love seemed to make him relax even more. It was a comfort to know that Blaster would be waiting for him. Had waited for him for so long, and wouldn't hurt him, or touch him if he was uncomfortable.
Licking his lips uncertainly, the telepath asked, "Blaster…?"
"Yeah?"
Soundwave cursed himself for losing his nerve at that moment. Instead, he curled closer to the warmth his friend's body offered and murmured, "Indulge me a song?"
Blaster smiled at him and began to hum that same, favourite lullaby they had written together all those years ago.
Ironhide, finished with his damage control and assuring the mechs in the training room that the only reason Soundwave had started to thrash around was because he had fritzed a motor control connector during the sparring session. Part of his job done, he turned to the cassettes, huddled silently in a secluded corner of the training room. The red mech sighed. Poor younglings. Seeing them around base, behaving like younglings would normally do, almost made him forget what dangerous and deadly terrors they could be. It was times like this especially, when he would feel his guardian protocols kick in.
"Hey," he rumbled gently. "Hope ya know I neva meant him real harm."
"We know," Ravage said softly, "it was practice."
Rumble and Frenzy weren't looking too happy. Rumble whined, "Why our creator? He was so good! He played hero for the first time in his life and he got punished for it."
There was no need to ask what the purple mini mech was referring to. All present knew.
"Some things ya just cain't change," said Ironhide, sitting down with a creak of joints. He looked at all the cassettes. "And this is one o' them. Let ya're creator sort 'imself out. We all know 'e can do it." Ratbat perked up at this, some of his anxiousness disappearing from his face.
"Ya can't predict that," muttered Frenzy, still upset.
Ironhide felt more pity for the younger ones at this. "Well, Soundwave's been fightin' for a long time. Only this time, it's less fightin' on the side of a war, 'n' more about fightin' for 'imself. For you pipsqueaks. For the future."
After a pause, Laserbeak intoned quietly, "Then we'll be patient. We want him to fight."
Ironhide smiled. "Well, then ya're halfway there already."
Skywarp smirked at the exhausted group of Aerialbots in front of him. "Well done on not falling out of the sky, freaking out about the height we went, or purging when we did that barrel roll and triple loop combo. You lot are free to go, and we'll do another session in a couple of days."
The gestalt left to enter the Ark, their wings drooping from tiredness, prompting Starscream to smirk and Skywarp to giggle, "Aw, little jets. Good thing we're here to teach them, right Star?"
"Well, it was much better than sitting around all day," conceded the tricolour jet with a haughty expression.
Thundercracker, however, was silent. He had been so all day. Turning back to his trine leader, the teleporter gave a pleading look for some alone time. Starscream nodded, igniting his thrusters and rising up to the top of Mt. Saint Hillary so he could watch over his trinemates as they talked. One they were alone, Skywarp moved forward, touching his lover's arm. "Thundercracker?"
As if coming out of a trance, the blue flier jerked, his optics finally focusing. Frowning, he asked, "Where are the younglings?"
"Gone. Trainings over…you've been really quiet today TC," said the black and purple mech. It was times like these he wished they had already bonded, so he could feel what his lover was feeling and comfort him through that magical link all bondmates shared.
Thundercracker sighed and pulled Skywarp to him, tucking his helm in the crook of his lover's neck. "I sometimes think about what happened…" he admitted abruptly, his words muffled by Skywarp's neck. "And I feel helpless because I can see it all happening again and again. I don't ever want to see you like that. It taints me, remembering what happened. I don't want to remember."
The teleporter felt a pang of surprise at the subject and raised a hand to cradle his lover's helm. "It takes time TC."
The blue Seeker growled, lifting his helm up to look the black jet in the optic. "Time. Well, I wish it would go faster so that memory fades and is only replaced by how beautiful you look in consensual interfacing. My stupid programming can't let me see the happy memories, only the horrible ones." He tightened his embrace and growled again, sullen. Skywarp pressed a kiss to his helm and it gave him a warm rush of comfort.
"I love you," Skywarp finally murmured.
Bringing his helm up once more and placing a light peck to his lover's lips, Thundercracker replied, "I love you too. Sometimes I don't wish to burden you when you have your own issues-"
"But," interrupted the younger flier, "we are together and we do things as a couple now. So…a burden shared is better than one kept pent up. Right?"
Thundercracker smirked, reminded of his future mate's optimism. "Right."
"No."
"Aw, c'mon. It has merit y'know."
"No. I am not becoming an exhibitionist."
"It's for a good cause!"
"It won't be any good if Soundwave does not react as you hope he will react," Prowl answered, pointing out the logical flaws in his bondmate's plan. "Not only that, but this is also a method for satisfying your own fantasy that someone is watching you interface."
"No! Well…yes, that too," Jazz admitted sheepishly, but he went on, "Ah told ya, Ah remember someone got abused like Soundwave did back on Cybertron before the war, and the mech walked in on his friends and he was really acceptin' of it and it helped him move on. He learned to associate between good and bad 'facing. C'mon, Ah reckon' it'll help."
Prowl looked into his bondmates optics. He sighed, surrendering under that pleading gaze and the pulses of adoration from the saboteur. "Fine. But if this doesn't work, you get you pick up the pieces. And we are not doing this in my office, so get that devious little thought out of your mind." Jazz's face fell slightly, but he kept grinning. "And," the tactician went on with a more lusty smirk, "you are going to be on the bottom this time."
"Aw baby," the saboteur murmured, clicking his visor down, "ya know just the right thing to say to me." He quickly kissed his lover and skipped out of the room merrily, Prowl shaking his helm in bemusement behind him.
'I must learn to stop giving in to him.'
A/N: Admit it Prowl, you will always give into Jazz XD
I hope you liked this one. Please review. I'd like to see what you liked about it. I'm really trying with this story. I want it to work out so much, so encouragement is much loved. Again, thank you for all my reviewers/alert/favourites. It means a lot to me.