Rated: M for adult themes. Language, violence, mental rape, character death, mech erotica, torture, gore. They vary from chapter to chapter, so read at your own risk. I will specify torture and mental rape for this chapter.

Important Note: This series of fics were started before Revenge of the Fallen hit the theaters. This is an AU 2007 movie verse fic, NOT a ROTF fic.

Disclaimer: The only thing I own in this work of complete fiction is Velocity/Sira. She is mine. Everything else is copy righted and owned by some really rich people. I make no money from this, but wish I could.

Beta read by Okamichan. Thank you Wolfie for devoting the time it took to fix this chapter, and thank you for whapping me when I was being a dumb-ass. What would I do without a dear friend like you. Luvs.

Dedicated to the amazing illmatar. Hang in there lady, it will eventually get better.

XxxX

Tortured

XxxX

A demon from Hell leered down at her. His optics glowed with malevolent joy, highlighting the sharp angles of his facial plates, tinting them the color of dried blood.

Time slowed to a crawl, and an emotion deeper than despair weighed her soul down. Fear paralyzed her; it stole the sound from her vocals and stalled her pump. Death had come for her again.

Gears hummed softly as the demon dropped to all fours. His movement stirred the air; dirt and paper fragments swirled away from him, and dust motes sparkled while they danced with indifference in the air. Barricade cocked his head to the side, a brutal smile played along his features, exposing sharp, jagged dental plates.

She pressed into the mech holding her. His arms tightened around her torso, pinning her to his chest, offering her the illusion of protection. In the back of her mind, she knew that the one cradling her would also kill her, but in her panicked state, Hardcore became the only sanctuary available. The armored plates of her back raked against his legs, scraping, and digging as she pushed against him.

She wanted to awaken from this nightmare, to find herself at home, safely tucked next to Optimus. Mentally, she screamed and clawed to get away, but fear glitched the signals, locking her gears, leaving her helpless and silent. She stared at the black and white mech, afraid to look away, her whole frame rigid.

Barricade shifted his weight, and slowly crawled towards her on hands and feet; his movements alien and mechanical. Blade-tipped fingers curled, scraping and sparking across the hard concrete surface. He slinked ever closer, and the short distance between them vanished; the backwash of his exhaust blew over her when he cycled his vents.

The shock trooper straightened, rearing back so that he squatting in front of she and Hardcore. He rested his hands on his knees; his murderous smile never wavered.

Velocity tried to scream, instead a strangled, hitching sound squeaked from her vocals. Her pump pounded frantically in her chest, its rapid beat loud enough for her to hear. The arms around her tightened, squeezing and denting, holding her in place.

Barricade reached for her, his freakishly long, multi-jointed fingers opened, like asps ready to strike in unison. His arm slipped through a shaft of sunlight, the life-giving radiance bounced along his funeral-black paint, flashing into her optic.

She blinked, turning her head to avoid the blinding glare. A fearful shudder ran along her frame.

Optimus stirred deep in her soul, distant and helpless; his emotions choked and festered within him. Guilt tainted their connection; he blamed himself. She didn't care; she reached for him, desperately seeking his protection. He reached back for her, connecting with her.

A gentle caress ricocheted her back to the physical world; a soft stroke along her ankle sent shivers up her frame. Barricade continued to fondle her, his optics watching her face while he slid his hand over her armor. His electrical field zapped against hers, promising violence and pain. She couldn't move, couldn't breath, and couldn't think, his presence overshadowed everything else.

Suddenly, Optimus raged along their bond, his soul-twisting anguish vanished, evaporated. Raw fury slammed into her, an emotion so cold it burned, and she shivered from the chill of it. The depth and power of his anger startled her; its purity ripped her out of her shocked stupor. Dormant battle programs onlined, clearing her processor and evaporating the haze of fear. Heat and hate flared within her. She understood how Hardcore had fooled her, kept her passive.

She took Optimus's wrath and made it her own.

Velocity snarled at the shock trooper. Her metal lips shifted, exposing her dental plates. No longer a subdued femme, her soul flared with the need for vengeance.

Barricade's optics narrowed and his hand squeezed her ankle until the armor squealed and pain shot up her leg. He tugged, and she started to slip from Hardcore's embrace.

Hardcore tightened his hold around her, keeping Barricade from taking her from him. For a second they both pulled at her, each trying to claim her.

Velocity lashed out with a kick. The curved talons on her foot snapped from their sheaths, slicing towards Barricade's vile face.

He twisted away form her, riasing his arm to block the the blow to his face.

Her claws hooked into him with enough momentum to carve into his tough armor. She ground her denta and ripped her talons free with a squeal of protesting metal. Wires sparked and spat, and parts clattered to the ground, exposing a gash in his forearm.

Barricade leapt well out of her reach, probing the wound. His wretched smile never wavered. He looked away from his injury and stared at her, optics burning with the promise of retribution.

Velocity didn't wait, she struggled against the arms that secured her. Snarling and snapping like a rabid animal, she twisted against Hardcore; scraping off large chunks of paint with the shriek of metal. She glared murderously at him with her one functioning optic, the mech had lied to her, deceived her and tried to seduce her.

Hardcore still held her in a lover's embrace, pinned to his chest, but his gears moaned with the effort it took to keep her in place and controlled. She glowered up at him, memorizing his hated vestige, but his focus wasn't even on her. He only glared at the black mech, optics filled with hate, and beautiful features contorted into an ugly mask. A mask close enough for her to kiss, if she so desired. His mistake.

Velocity tilted her head as far back as she could, then slammed it forward, hard and fast. The top of her helm crashed into Hardcore's perfect features. Her audios rang with feedback, but she could still hear, the glorious sound of metal snapping like brittle twigs. She head-butted the mech again. His delicate facial components splintering under the impact, and his pained squeals filled her soul with delicious delight. Her HUD blinked with minor damage warning, but she ignored it, the dent was inconsequential.

Hardcore twisted, pitching her away from him. A ped contacted her hip as he shoved her farther, but it didn't matter, she was free.

Velocity didn't look back, she didn't think; she only reacted. She rolled onto her stomach and clambered to all fours. Her arms threatened to give under her, and the world spun in dizzying circles. She ignored the warnings on her HUD, and the weakness in her limbs; instead, she started to crawl towards the doorway, her only thoughts on escape.

Laughter echoed in her audios. The cruel sound spurred her forward, and she knew that she didn't have a snowball's chance in Hell, but she had to try. She moved, despite the pain flaring in her side. Something wet oozed along her mechanics and dripped from the crevices in her armor. She ignored it, the implications meant nothing to her; a problem to be sorted out later if there was a later. Instead, she focused on placing one hand in front of the other, willing her legs followed.

She moved her right hand forward and placed it on the unforgiving concrete, then lifted her left hand. A creak was her only warning. Her right arm gave, and she slammed face first into the floor, flooding her HUD with warnings. Feedback flooded her audios, squelching all other noise for a few precious seconds.

The ringing cleared and she heard more laughter, the deep chuckles of someone thoroughly enjoying himself. Velocity clawed and scrambled at the floor, wanting to start moving again. Her arms still shook, but they held her as she struggled to her hands and knees again.

She glanced over her shoulder. Barricade leaned against an I-beam, his arms crossed over his chest, chuckling, but not interfering. Obviously, the shock trooper found her desperation entertaining.

Velocity looked in the other direction, and nearby, Hardcore knelt on all fours, shaking his head like an injured dog. Energon dripped from a severed line, forming a small puddle on the ground. He looked up at her; his optics glowed in vengeful rage. "I. Will. Rip. You. Apart."

The mech's cold words sliced through her hate, and fear blossomed. She had little doubt that he would destroy her. Panic bit at her and she clambered forward.

Her programming demanded that she run. She had been built to run and could outmaneuver almost any mech on two legs. She pulled her legs under her and hooked the talons of her feet into the concrete. Her hypercoils struggled to carry her weight, and her legs shook with the effort. After several attempts, she found enough strength to stand. Gyroscopes and stabilizers glitched at the rapid change. Under fueled and injured, her systems lagged, sending her stumbling towards the doorway.

With each unsure and sluggish step, she moved closer to her goal. She didn't have a plan beyond reaching the next room and hoped that fate intervened. She took another gangling step, her exertion taking its toll. Heat radiated off her as her core temperature rose. She tried to suck air in, cycling it through her intakes and over her internal mechanics, cooling them. Nothing happened. She choked back the panic; organic instincts screamed that she was suffocating, even though she knew that she didn't "breathe" anymore.

She focused on the doorway looming in front of her. Light shone invitingly through the large opening, teasing and taunting her. A goal as distant as the sun, yet close enough she could have cleared it in a dozen, bounding strides, had she been functioning at peak levels. She continued to stumble towards it. Forcing one foot in front of the other, refusing to give up.

Velocity glanced over her shoulder; both Hardcore and Barricade stood ramrod straight, their expressions alert and watchful, staring past her.

Darkness moved into her limited peripheral vision and blotted out the light. She turned her head, and a mass of black filled her vision. A hand slammed into her, knocking her off her feet and sending her siding across the floor. She slammed into a support beam, stopping her.

Her processor glitched and her systems teetered on the edge of shutdown. Disoriented, she could only watch helplessly as an enormous mech walked over to her and raised his ped above her. She shuttered her optics, cringing, and waiting. Hoping death would be swift so she did not have to hear her own frame buckle and mechanics rupture under his foot.

The killing blow never came.

Instead, the mech pinned her to the concrete, pressing his foot against her with enough force to keep her from moving, without crushing her.

She opened her optic and looked up the span of the mech's body to his face far above her. Over a dark battle-mask, his red optics gazed at her, emotionless and empty. His electrical field absorbed hers with a cold indifference.

"Explain?" he ordered, his voice a monotone, metallic rasp.

XxxX

He suppressed a shudder, his gears whined in protest against the strain of just remaining still. The tips of his fingers dented the metal pads on his palms as he squeezed his fists. He dared not move, uncertain in his ability to contain Velocity's terror and control his own rising anger.

He turned inward, focusing on his bondmate. The room around him and everything in it shrank, disappearing into a solitary point of light, distant and unimportant.

Velocity became his entire attention. Her fear washed over and through him, stirring up protectiveness, rage, vengeance and need, creating a volatile swirl of toxic and dangerous emotions. He wanted his bondmate; wanted her in his arms, safe and close. He knew he could decimate any mech foolish enough to stand in his way, for he was the Prime, the best of his kind.

He sucked air over his intakes in an attempt to cool his systems and temper. His tenuous hold on rational thought slipped and the violent urges he kept buried surged forward. He wanted to rush to her, to eradicate those foolish enough to cross him and challenge his authority. The need to lash out almost overwhelmed him. He responded in the only way he knew how. He embraced an icy calm, wrapping his spark in frozen composure, chilling his wrath and clearing the fire of emotions from his mind.

The world snapped back into focus and the details of the room stood out in harsh clarity. He saw how the air currents lazily rippled the flags that hung throughout the chamber, and the scuff-marks where numerous shoes and peds had worn away the floor's finish. He heard the soft hums and clicks coming from his trusted mechs, and the distant voices of humans echoing down the empty hallways. He smelled oil, energon, metal, dust, mold and human sweat. He felt air waft over and into the seams of his armor and the warm tingle of Prowl's familiar electrical field, but he also felt the cold within his spark and the weight of the Matrix in his chest.

Forced into hyper-awareness by his battle protocols, he processed every tiny detail around him, searching for a threat to obliterate. He found nothing. This heightened state strained his systems, ramping up his fuel consumption and overclocking his processor. In many ways, it weakened him, clouded his judgment and undermined his control.

He could calculate the pattern of thousands of dust particles that floated in the air, but he couldn't comprehend the calm, words coming from his tactician.

He couldn't do it any more.

He couldn't stand and pretend to function as the leader of an entire race when he could only concentrate on a single life.

Optimus turned on his ped and left the conference room, his thoughts centered around his bondmate.

XxxX

Hardcore knelt before his Lord; his frame heaved, sucking air over his intakes and forcefully expelling the heat. Slowly, he brought a shaking hand to his face and gingerly touched the damaged components. He cycled again, grinding his dental plates together and glaring at the femme pinned under Soundwave's ped. Helpless and vulnerable, he could easily terminate her. The desire to do so almost overwhelmed him, but he dared not launch himself towards the new Decepticon Lord. No matter what his intentions, such actions would not be well received.

Without moving his head, he cut his optics to the side, glancing at Barricade. The shock-trooper remained in a frozen bow, but he didn't completely kneel. A confident grin spread on his face.

Hardcore wanted to pull his weapon and blow a hole through the mech's processor core. He had worked hard to keep the femme passive, compliant, a presentable gift for Soundwave. But thanks to Barricade's interference, the femme had panicked and caused more damage than her worth.

He continued to rub his face, hoping that his self repairs wouldn't mar the finish. He doubted Earth offered the technology to have the delicate components resurfaced, forcing him to bear the ugly scars until he returned to Cybertron. Primus, he would make that femme pay.

"Explain," Soundwave ordered again, his voice still clipped and emotionless. It was rare for the Decepticon to ask twice.

Barricade raised his head, taking the initiative. "It appears that Hardcore has gone against your orders, and instead of bringing back Agent Simmons; he abducted the Autobot femme."

The shock trooper's tone held confident amusement, and it rankled Hardcore. He blurted, "The femme was under control until you showed up! There is a reason why you cannot be trusted around valuable prisoners."

The black and white mech straightened, a smug smile still on his face. He shrugged casually. "At least I can say that I have never been duped into 'facing with an Autobot hub. Are they truly that alluring?"

Hardcore felt his core temperatures rise and he shot a nervous glance at Soundwave. The massive Decepticon didn't move, his face still covered by his battle mask, inscrutable and aloof. He stole a glance at the femme in question; Soundwave's foot hid most of her. Only her head, one arm and lower legs stuck out. She stared up at the Decepticon Lord with wide, fearful optics, her free hand clawing at the concrete. Soundwave could effortlessly crush her, bursting her spark chamber.

Hardcore sighed. Pity, she could have been…entertaining.

Still kneeling, he looked up at Soundwave, meeting the flat, cold glow of those red optics. "We lack the facilities to securely hold valuable prisoner, therefore, I was keeping her complacent and distracted. I would never tarnish my cables by sticking them into what is probably a well used doll."

Barricade snorted. "You have called the hub 'valuable' twice. What information do you have to support this claim?"

Soundwave turned his head, his attention fully on Hardcore.

The silver mech cycled his intakes and slowly stood. He understood this game and he could play it very well. The Decepticon leader wanted them to verbally spar, to skillfully argue and rebuttal, while silently analyzing: watching for weaknesses, determining who was the better, listening, and gathering data. Always listening and gathering data. This was the dangerous difference between Soundwave and Megatron. The former leader couldn't contain his emotions and every nuance and gesture told of his thoughts, a mech knew when to run, or when to scrape in supplication, but not with Soundwave. The former Councilor and Communications Officer hid behind an emotionless mask, keeping his thoughts closely guarded and a mech had a hard time figuring out where he stood.

Hardcore stood his full height and looked up to meet his leader's stare. Any show of cowardliness now would only get him killed. "The femme is valuable, and if Barricade would pull his helm out of his exhaust port he might understand why?" From the corner of his optic, he could see the shock-trooper stiffen. "We have assumed that the femmes were mostly wiped out during the assault on their compound, but more and more evidence is starting to point to the contrary."

Barricade growled. "They were wiped out. I was there and their numbers were decimated, the only ones that survived have since been hunted down and terminated. The femmes are extinct."

Hardcore turned to the mech. "How do you know this? Did you stop to identify every sparkless frame?"

"No, we didn't have to. We intercepted the Autobots' reports. Their weapons specialist, Ironhide, created almost all of the termination verifications. He is a known femme sympathizer, and if he identified their remains, why should we bother. Since then, their surviving remnants have been scrapped. Destroyed. The femmes are gone."

A small smile tugged at Hardcore's mouth. "If the femmes are gone then how do you explain the existence of that?" He pointed to the doll under Soundwave's ped. "The Autobots have an unknown femme among their number. How do you explain it? How can you justify ignoring that a femme lives while you are saying they are extinct?"

Barricade shrugged. "One femme cannot create other femmes. So one survived. This one might have been newly sparked during the raids and we missed her. The Autobots could have hidden her away. She is not important. She is just one femme. She is irrelevant."

Hardcore shook his head. "Barricade, you are a fool. This femme is not that old. I doubt she has seen her first vorn." His words hung in the air. "Where did she come from?"

The shock-trooper shook with rage, but Hardcore stood his ground. He wanted to discredit the warrior before moving against him and the facts of the situation easily lent themselves to do just that. He didn't even have to lie, the truth worked perfectly well. However, he would have to watch for retaliation.

He glanced at Soundwave and the massive mech remained motionless, his attention far from the femme underneath him. He moved his head, tilting it to the side slightly. "Explain why you did not acquire Agent Simmons."

Hardcore winced, and locked the gears in his legs to keep from taking a fearful step backwards. In his feud with Barricade, he had forgotten that he had yet to report his team's failure. He weighed his options carefully before speaking, making sure that he offered the truth, but placed a positive spin on it. For chances were very good that Soundwave already knew what had occurred.

He crossed his arms over his chest and forced his hypercoils to relax, offering the image of confidence and control. "Agent Simmons was in the company of the femme and we had them both surrounded, ready to move in. Then the human was injured. Being near death, I thought that it would be better to let his own kind repair him, so I ordered Overdrive to observe but not interfere and keep track of the man's whereabouts, keeping the target in sight."

"And you went through all of the trouble to bring the femme here, when you could have neutralized her and be done with it," Barricade interjected.

Hardcore ignored the mech, his attention remaining on Soundwave, a demonstration to everyone how little Barricade meant to him. "I have brought you a gift, my Lord. An Autobot femme to do with as you please, and once the human is repaired I will also bring him to you." He dropped into a deep bow, hoping that his words and actions appeased the Decepticon leader.

He tipped his head to look up and Soundwave still stared at him, red optics burned with frigid indifference. The Decepticon leader blinked once, his gaze didn't waver or alter. Unease unfurled within Hardcore and slowly spread along his wires.

"How was the human injured?" Soundwave rasped, his tone dispassionate.

Hardcore straightened. He tilted his head to the side and looked at the femme under Soundwave's ped; she squirmed and struggled futilely, trying to free herself, wasting the energon he had brought her to keep her online. He flicked his gaze upwards and looked at Soundwave. "The femme tried to kill the human."

Soundwave glanced down to form underneath his ped, a flicker of… curiosity flashed behind his optics as he stared at the femme. Hardcore cycled his vents in a sigh of relief; he no longer held the focus of the Noble Lord's interest.

XxxX

Velocity's framing creaked from the pressure of the Decepticon's ped. The edges of his plating dug into her armor, and her back scraped and gouged the concrete beneath her. She tried to wiggle, turn or squirm, to move in anyway she could, but he effortlessly kept her pinned. Desperation drove her to near panic. She continued to claw uselessly at the concrete, digging deep groves into the material. The intricate clicks and squeaks of the Cybertronian language became nothing but noise to her audios. She ignored the conversation taking place around her, it didn't matter what they said, and she would still be dead at the end of the day.

The mech above her shifted, and she froze. He tilted his head and looked at her, mild interest shone in his optics.

Velocity didn't want him to notice her; she wanted to dissolve into the concrete. She shuttered her optics against his scrutiny, trying unsuccessfully to curl into a ball, to become something small and unimportant.

He shifted and the weight of his foot disappeared.

For an infinitesimal second she froze, her processor struggled to analyze the change, but her instincts screamed for her to move. She flailed about, scrambling for purchase. With her elbows and feet, she managed to scoot a little ways away, when Soundwave bent forward, his optics focused on her.

The mech's hand shot towards her, fingers splayed wide.

She flipped onto her stomach, struggling to get away. On weak arms she flopped forward.

Velocity let out an undignified squeal as cold fingers hooked into the armor on her back and lifted her off the ground. She thrashed about, but she couldn't reach the mech, so her efforts made little difference, and She could not escape his grasp.

The mech turned her to face him, and he scrutinized her, his optics moving over her frame. His energy field brushed against hers, frozen and apathetic. It matched his flat, black coloring; the shafts of sunlight that touched this mech disappeared, seemingly sucked into his armor. Even Barricade shimmered in the sunlight, but this mech absorbed it. Only his red optics held any evidence that he might be more than a machine.

She growled the high, warbled threat of a panicked animal. Fear gave way to recklessness, and she didn't care. She only wanted to get away from him. Velocity lashed out with her claws, swiping at his face but she only caught empty air.

This mech stood considerably taller than Optimus, and his bulk filled the room. He easily held her at arm's length, safely away from any delicate components.

Velocity struck at him again. Twisting her agile frame, she kicked, hoping to sink her talons into his armor. The dull "tink" of metal meeting metal echoed in the barren room as her talons sunk into the plating on his upper-arm.

If the mech felt it, he didn't show it, his just continued to stare at her.

She tightened her hypercoils, trying to rip through his armor to the mechanics underneath. Her leg wouldn't move; she lacked the strength to cut further into his thick plating. She tried to bend her knee and free herself, straining and pulling, but her foot refused to budge. Her talons were stuck. One leg dangled in the open air while the other one extended its full length and twisted at an awkward angle, embedded in enemy armor.

She reached behind her to grapple with the fingers digging into her armor. She had to get away from him, and didn't care that she would land in the awaiting arms of the other two Decepticons.

The mech continued to stare at her, his face expressionless.

Velocity whimpered, and looked down at the thumb that dug into her side, denting the metal. She wrapped her smaller hands around the digit and pulled at it, trying to loosen his hold on her.

Something small and warm grabbed one of her articulated toes, pulling at it, freeing it from the metal . She looked up to see a very small mech tugging at her foot. The tiny, metallic Cybertronian shimmered against the drab black of the larger mech's arm.

He pulled at another toe. His thin arms wrapped around it and his legs strained to lift its wight and dislodge it. Once that talon came loose, gravity took over and the final two claws slipped out, falling away from the huge mechs arm. Her leg was free, but she barely noticed. Her attention remained focused on the little mech as it scuttled along the larger one and perched on his shoulder.

Sun light reflected and shifted. She shifted her gaze to the large mech's chest. Another small Cybertronian peaked out from between the black chest plates. This one easily slipped free and climbed over the massive mech's body like a crab on a whale's bloated carcass.

It scrambled up to join the other, and they both stared at her with their hostile red optics High pitched voiced chattered incessantly in Cybertronian. One started to crawl along the arm towards her. The small mech clicked and hissed aggressively, but the big mech raised his other arm and with his hand gently shooed the little one back.

Revulsion mingled with her fear, and the femme shuddered. Twitching and jerking like some demented mechanical insects, the small humanoid mechs skittered around like cockroaches in a food pantry. She didn't want the tiny things near her; she didn't want one of them trying to slip between the joins in her armor.

Both of the tiny silver mechs looked at the larger one, their optics intent and focused on him. Without a sound, they hastily scrambled over his shoulder and disappeared between the gaps in the mech's armor.

"The Prime has decreed that Autobots do not harm humans," the mech holding her stated in perfect English.

She jerked at the sound of his voice, monotone and metallic with a commanding tone that couldn't be denied. She glanced at him, and continued to attempt to free herself. Slipping the slender claws of her hand into one of the joints on his finger, she sought out neuro-wires or tactile sensors, anything she could find to rip apart and force him to release her.

He shook her, a rapid back and forth movement that threatened to snap her neck. She abandoned her assault on his hand, and pulled her legs up and her arms in, protecting herself as best she could.

The whiplash motion stopped as quickly, and abruptly, as it started, but her gyroscopes couldn't keep up, they still spun in their housings, sending her false data. Disoriented and dizzy, she went limp, hanging like a rag doll in his hand.

"The Prime has decreed you cannot harm humans, but you harmed Agent Reginald Simmons." A statement, not a question.

Understanding flashed in her mind. She raised her head in silent defiance and looked at the mech with her remaining optic. She tried to speak, but only managed a static laced squeak. She tried again, her voice barely audible from fatigue, she said, "You don't have him, do you?"

The mech's features changed. A subtle frown narrowed his optics; she would have missed it had she not been watching him. He opened the hand that held her, releasing her.

She fell fast, unable to brace for the hard landing. She hit the concrete: legs first, metal groaned, and twisted out of shape. She collapsed into a heap, shaking from shock and pain.

Her motions hesitant and unsure, she rolled onto her back, one leg unresponsive. Even that simple task sapped the last of her strength. Her HUD blinked erratically, fritzing. Velocity didn't want to die, but she didn't have anything left to fight with. She tried to raise an arm, as a feeble defense against a mech three times her size, but the limb lagged:heavy, weak. Exhausted and defeated, her body had sustained too much damage to continue. With a level gaze, she stared into the massive Decepticon's optics, the red glow held nothing. No emotions reflected in his features as he looked back at her. Clarity and understanding came to Velocity, he would kill her and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.

She whined, wanting to curl up in Optimus's arms and feel the safety in his strength and power, but that would never happen. She knew that she would never see him again. Fate had given her a second chance at life, a life she had never dreamed of, and that life was about to be taken from her.

The Universe was a cruel, harsh, place and the deities that ran it, sadistic bastards. To offer such joy and then to snatch it away… she hoped the atheists were right and she would just snuff out of existence, she didn't want to meet the gods that created life. She hated them.

It took her complete concentration to close her bond to Optimus. He struggled and fought against her. "I love you," she whispered, even though she knew he couldn't hear her thoughts and pushed him away.

The dark mech shifted, straddling her. In one smooth motion, he dropped to his knees. The concrete on either side of her shattered, the hard surface cracking like ice on the surface of a frozen lake. He became The Shadow. Death in a metal frame.

She looked to the side to see the other two mechs, they stood apart, but both watched the larger mech with intense interest. Fascination and anticipation evident in their bright optics. She turned her attention back to the one kneeling over her, and saw... them. Dozens of tiny, glowing worms wriggled from the seams in his armor.

XxxX

"Autobot Mirage exited the sensor grid point five cycles ago. His signal was last recorded in quadrant four, section theta, subsection two," the calm voice of Teletraan 1 informed him.

"But there aren't any roads in that area, it is open desert." Smokescreen said, more to himself than the AI.

"Correct." the computer responded in the same pleasant tone.

The mech cycled his vents. He rested his elbows on the console, lacing his hands together and steepling his index fingers. He rested his metal lips against his fingers, weighing the information that the computer had given him, not wanting to jump to conclusions.

His optics flicked to the data pad resting next to one of his elbows. The numbers glowed at him, indifferent in what they showed, unaware of the damage they could cause. He had checked and rechecked; counted and recounted the inventory and every time the discrepancy remained the same. The energon stores didn't match the production and consumption levels. Even figuring in what the twins would swipe to refine into their infamous high grade, the numbers still didn't match up. They were missing a lot of energon. If his numbers were correct, it could be enough to fuel several dozen mechs for a full diun, perhaps longer.

Smokescreen reached out, and picked up the data pad, angling it where he could see the screen. He intended to talk to Mirage first, listen to the mech's version and attempt to figure out the problem together… but Mirage had left the base. Left the base, even though they had been ordered to remain on base in case of Decepticon incursion.

Primus, he didn't what to be the one to report this to Prowl. He had always struggled to remain neutral when arguments and infighting erupted in the Autobot ranks. Always strove to be the one to dispense rational advice and defuse the explosive tempers. He had never been the one to report a fellow Autobot… until now.

Smokescreen didn't want to do this. It went against his deepest beliefs, but if what he suspected was true, then they had a traitor among them, and the data pointed towards one mech. A mech that had grown sloppy and didn't bother to cover his trail. A mech he wanted to talk to and give the opportunity to defend himself, but that mech had just left the base.

Pushing his chair back, he braced a hand against the console and slowly stood. That much missing energon couldn't be ignored. He glanced at the data pad and stepped away from Teletraan, his spark heavy, hoping that he wasn't about to make a grievous error. But he had checked and rechecked so many time that there was no mistaking it, Mirage had removed large sums of energon and done only Primus knows what with them.

Moving slower than normal he made his way to Prowl's office, only to find it empty. He turned and started towards the Prime's quarters, wondering if the tactician was there. The Prime had turned his anteroom into an office of sorts where he worked and all Autobots could approach and address him.

If he couldn't locate the SIC there, he would ping him and request a meeting.

XxxX

Velocity stared in rapt, disgusted amazement while the worms wiggled from the mech, their wickedly pointed heads whipped around, searching. They lengthened and widened, slipped from him, a writhing mass descending from his chest. She vaguely wondered what kind of mech would have worms, when it dawned on her that they weren't worms. Segmented and clear, the worms reminded her of glass tubes filled with pale neon.

The mech bent forward, and his mass filled her entire visual field, blocking her view . The glow from the "worms" lit the space between them, painting their armor with an anemic light. One of the worms dropped from him and touched her, slithering and twisting, its cold energy left ghostly trails on her abdomen. It poked at her armor, sliding around until it found an opening then stuck its pointed head between the seams, exploring.

Repulsed, she yelped and swiped a taloned hand at the "worm" knocking it away, but it didn't go far, its tail still hid within the mech above her. It coiled and twisted around itself while energon oozed from its wound.

The mech cocked his head to the side, and blinked once.

She dug her claws into the concrete, intending to shift out from under him and his "worms", but the idea had come too late. The squiggling mass fell on her, engulfing her. Dozens of tiny heads probed her armor, their cold lengths slipping into her body, creeping between her internal mechanics.

She screamed, one of the worms wriggled into her mouth and her voice stalled, silenced. She wanted to fight, but an alien presence took over her body, locking her into immobility. The "worms" explored and penetrated her, linking up with her systems and overriding them. They tightened around her spark chamber, merging with the electronics and programming that controlled the home for her soul. They slipped up her neck and into her cranial housing, violating her, accessing her mind. They pushed her consciousness away from her own body, but wouldn't allow her to hide in her own mind. They kept her pinned, awake and aware, but trapped.

The worms belonged to the mech towering over her. She felt his cold indifference, as he searched her, becoming acquainted with her programming. She wanted him out of her, but he ignored her silent objections, and just kept probing.

He linked into her memory banks, and his optic shutters briefly closed as he cycled his vents. A shudder ran along his body.

She tried to move, to fight him off. She struggled to erect firewalls between herself and him, relying on brief lessons from Wheeljack and Ratchet, but he effortlessly pushed through her barriers.

Her optic receptor blinked off, and her audios shut down, denying her any senses and caging her in her body.

He moved within her, unimpeded and unhindered. He controlled her, dominating her body, and she couldn't do anything to stop him. The mech penetrated her memories, pulling them and examining them. He moved through her with a greasy efficiency, lapping up the data he stole from her, as he calmly took her mind apart. He burned himself into her, cauterizing and destroying as he went, uncaring and unconcerned.

Velocity didn't want him to know what she had once been. She shoved harmless memories at him, the nonsense that filled her days as an Autobot, while trying to bury anything concerning her past.

The mech seemed to understand her actions and casually continued his assault on her data core. His tentacles tightened around her spark housing, searching for a way in.

She screamed in her mind. Unable to give voice to the pain and terror she felt while he violated her. Reckless desperation dove her, and she attempted to wipe her own memory banks. A maneuver tantamount to mental suicide, but she couldn't barely recall those lessons.

Her attacker overrode her commands, stopping the process before it had started. Bored annoyance filled her mind, an emotion that didn't belong to her.

The mech paused. Curiosity replaced his indifference. He showed her what he had found, a memory she held dear and defined her new life. Something he had no right experiencing. He showed her the memory of her and Optimus engaging in their initial bonding, an unspoken question hung between her and the invading mech.

He flipped through her memories, as one would unimportant mail, discarding what didn't interest him. He found another intimate memory, accessed and displayed it like a soap opera on television.

She wanted to turn off her thoughts, and deny him. He had no right to see her and her mate together, no right to know.

He played the memory for her again, forcing her to acknowledge in her mind that she was the Prime's bondmate.

The mech stayed within her, observing the bonding as a spectator. Watching, seeing the Prime as she saw him, powerful and desired. Perfection. Safety. The invading mech became an unwanted voyeur, peeking into something she considered sacred.

Optimus pushed against the seal she placed on their bond, weakening it. She couldn't struggle with both her mate and the Decepticon. Her bond with Optimus exploded and he filled her mind, slamming into the other mech. Her mind burned and she managed to vocalize a scream.

Her mate tried to place himself between her and… Soundwave, the Decepticon was called Soundwave. The mech responded by rapidly searching her memory banks, pulling data dealing with Alpha Base and its defenses.

Optimus pushed further into her consciousness, trying to drive Soundwave from her. She screamed again: tight, overclocked, and on fire, the pain became unbearable. Her circuits started to overheat; she couldn't handle the strain any longer and prayed for shutdown. If her systems crashed the misery would stop.

Without warning, Soundwave slipped from her body and consciousness. His cold presence slowly receded, but he seared a path into her neuro-mainframe, a permanent access. He knew who and what she was to the Prime, and he would use that to against them. He informed her of that as his tentacles withdrew, their paths forever fused into her circuits and mind.

As soon as he left, her sensors clicked on and her programs became her own again.

Optimus raged. His frustration and wrath choked her, his cold hate lodged in her soul, chilling her. But underneath all of his anger and fury swirled guilt and love. He receded along the bond, but stayed with her, a familiar presence she wanted to wrap herself around.

A hand pressed against her chest. The physical touched distracted her from her bond. She blinked several times, clearing debris from her optic. Soundwave still knelt over her, his hand pinning her in place. He rattled something off in Cybertronian, and then looked down at her. His optics bore into hers and she could read the anticipation in his gaze. "Bind the femme," he ordered in perfect English.

Hands grabbed her arms and dragged her out from under Soundwave. She growled and thrashed, but Hardcore and Barricade quickly flipped her onto her stomach and pulled her arms behind her, restraining her. They spread her legs apart and a weight pinned one of them down.

She growled and cursed. Clawed fingers roughly separated the plates in her armor and something cold and heavy shoved its way into her ankle. Pressure sensors fired and she screamed in agony. She twisted enough to look down her body; Hardcore threaded a chain through her leg. Every link thumped against the sensor node, sending shock waves of torture.

Hardcore pulled the chain taut and wrapped around her leg. Then he crammed it back through her leg, jamming gears and banging against delicate wires. He looked at her, a joyful smile on his face. "I like hearing you scream," he said happily as he shoved the chain back into her leg, weaving agony.

XxxX

Smokescreen rounded the corner and collided with Prowl's raised hand. The SIC's glare silenced any comment the sniper might make.

"THEY ARE TORTURING HER!" bellowed from down the hallway.

Smokescreen looked past Prowl, his optics opened wide in shock. Further down the corridor, Ironhide stood with his back to Smokescreen, his arms crossed over his chest and his feet planted wide apart, blocking the path of a raging Prime. Optimus's battle mask covered half of his face and his optics burned with barely contained fury. The Autobot Commander towered over the veteran warrior, his hands balled into fists and unbridled anger rolled off of him in thick palatable waves.

Smokescreen's vents hitched and stalled in mid-cycle, and for the first time fear clouded his image of the Prime. He wanted retreat down the hallway, putting distance between him and the enormous mech.

The Prime stepped closer to Ironhide, their armor almost touching. "I could feel Soundwave in her mind, he will destroy her. She doesn't have the skills to defend herself against him."

Ironhide shifted, cocking his head to side as if he were more bored than anything by the Prime's ranting. "Yeah, and what do you plan to do? We have no idea where the 'Cons are keeping her. Even if you do find them, they will see you coming and neither of you will survive."

The Prime bumped against the Weapon specialist, his engine rumbled a deep threat.

Ironhide just continued to stand his ground, but he shifted his stance, placing one leg behind the other. His hands slowly dropped to his sides, fingers uncurling then tightening into a fist. Prowl also moved, with optics intently watching the drama at the end of the hall, his hand slipping towards his primary weapon.

Smokescreen wanted to say something, he wanted to make sense of what he saw, but he had trouble reconciling the difference between the congenial, approachable Prime and the seething mech before him. This mech radiated a cold, vengeful wrath, and the air crackled with raw power seeping off of his frame

Without warning, Optimus turned and disappeared into his office. Ironhide didn't pause; he followed the Supreme Commander, practically stepping on his heels. The door slid shut behind them and shortly after, a muffled bang reverberated through the walls.

For a fraction of an astrosecond the world paused.

Prowl visibly relaxed and cycled his vents slowly. He turned towards Smokescreen, relief evident on his features.

"What was that?" Smokescreen asked, unsure of anything at the moment.

Prowl scrutinized him closely before responding. "A desk, but Ironhide has reported that it survived being thrown."

The sniper blinked. "That… what, the frag just happened? I have never seen the Prime like this?" He muted his vocals realizing that his calm, relaxed demeanor had evaporated and he wanted to grab the SIC, and shake him, demanding answers.

Prowl leaned close to him, vocals only human inches from his audios. "Never forget, whom the Prime's brother was and that they share programming," the SIC whispered. "I trust that you understand the delicateness of this situation and can be counted on to not share what you have just seen and heard." The higher ranking mech's electrical field snapped and pushed against his.

Smokescreen tilted his chin upward, a small defiance to the strong arm tactics of the tactician. Questions raced through his processor and he needed time to digest what he had witnessed and what exactly the ramifications could be, but he understood the need for discretion. "Yes, sir." he said.

Prowl stared at him for an astrosecond longer before he pulled back and assumed a more normal stance. "You had something you wanted to tell me before we were… interrupted."

Smokescreen weighed his options, compared to the incident with the Prime, his concerns over missing fuel seemed paltry. "No, sir. It is nothing I cannot handle my self."

Prowl continued looking at him. "Are you certain?"

No, he wasn't certain, but everything that he knew about his leader had just come into question and he felt the unfamiliar disquiet of confusion and wanted to mull things over, to realign the universe so that it made sense again. "It is nothing."

Prowl only nodded and turned to walk away, leaving him standing at the precipice of an abyss. A deep gorge of uncertainty had opened before him and he wondered how many other secrets that Autobot High Command kept hidden from the rest of them.

XxxX

Catherine rubbed her eyes with her finger tips; sleep seemed like a impossible dream, an unobtainable goal. She tried to remember the last time she had slept… in a bed, not in the seat of an Autobot. The answer eluded her.

The man sitting across from her didn't look like he had fared any better.

Michael Rainwater sat in his chair; shoulders and head hunkered down and wide eyes flicking every direction. The long grey hair, narrow, almost skeletal build and handcuffs only accentuated the wacko-loner image.

She lifted the Styrofoam cup and sipped the coffee. Oily and thick, the bitter liquid coated her tongue and tasted like it had been sitting on a burner, kept hot for several days. She took another sip, and grimaced. Shit that tasted bad, but at least it was caffeine.

She wasn't sure how to progress. The sheriff watched her with a look of angry suffering, she knew that she had made a less than good impression on the man. Her makeup long gone, her clothes rumpled and her hair pulled up, held by a rubber band she found in the parking lot, she figured she looked more like a bag-lady than a reporter.

Honestly, Hound had been the one to gain access to Rainwater. She doubted that the mech's congenial smile and polite demeanor had a damn thing to do with it, and bet that the rocket launcher mounted on his shoulder played a large role in swaying Sheriff Black.

"Mr. Rainwater, what can you tell us about the events that you witnessed?" The Autobot's disembodied voice floated up from her Blackberry that sat in the middle of the table separated her from the man being questioned.

Rainwater glanced around the windowless room, and sank lower in his chair. "I've already told everyone that that dude was attacked by giant robots, but they didn't believe me."

Hound's chuckle sounded from the smart-phone. "Let's just say I believe you, but I need to know what you saw and in detail." The voice held an exaggerated Southern drawl, dripping with "good-ol'-boy" friendliness.

Catherine tried to hide her smile, Hound did have a way of putting people at ease, even if he remained 'outside and unseen. They all had agreed that it would be better if Mr. Rainwater had no idea he was talking to a giant, alien robot.

Rainwater squirmed in his chair, his arms still secured in front of him and resting in his lap. He looked at the phone as he spoke; "The sheriff thinks I'm lying and that the Cybertronians aren't in this part of the state. He said my chances of ever seeing one is slim to none, and seeing four of them in my backyard is impossible."

"Yeah, they like to stay to themselves a bit, but four? You saw four of the… robots?" Hound paused a fraction of a second before saying "robot", but his voice held all the excitement and awe of someone fascinated by a story.

Playing the "good cop, Catherine thought to herself

She listened to the Autobot's inflections carefully, amazed that an alien being could understand and use such subtlety; a subtlety that many humans failed to master and they had their whole lives to learn the delicacies of verbal communication.

Sheriff Black crossed his arms and harrumphed, knowing full well that the voice belonged to one of the Cybertronians and refusing to be impressed.

Catherine shot the lawman a glare. She didn't like him at all. The way that he had looked her up and down, and then dismissed her with his eyes. That hadn't changed as he continued to ignore' her as much as he could.

Rainwater leaned forward, and licked his cracked lips. "Can I tell you what happened? I mean really tell you, and you'll believe me?" His eyes flicked to the sheriff, then to Catherine and back to the phone.

"Of course I'll believe you; you have no idea the weird slag I have seen in my… days."

The prisoner lifted his arms and placed them on the table, his handcuffs clanking noisily against the stained Formica top. "Now, I'll admit that I had been a tokin' some when the noise outside started." He shot a nervous look at the sheriff, but continued, "It sounded like a jet had landed. I jumped up and grabbed my rifle, to look through the scope."

Catherine interrupted, "You have a rifle?"

Rainwater looked at her, slightly exasperated. "Yeah, I use it to pop the coyotes that bother my goats."

"A high powered Browning with a night scope." The sheriff's statement held raw accusation.

"Coyotes don't hunt in the day," Rainwater retorted.

"Anyways, what did you see?" Hound interrupted, his voice crackled over the phone.

Rainwater stared at the sheriff a second longer then glanced at the phone. "Don't worry about it man, you ain't gonna' believe me anyways." He leaned back in his chair, the metal of his cuffs dragging along the table before his hands fell off the edge and landed in his lap.

Silence hung in the sparsely furnished room. Catherine looked at Rainwater trying to decide what she could say to get him talking again, but it was Hound that broke the silence first.

"Mr. Rainwater, I desperately need to know what you saw last night. Someone I know was involved and is possibly hurt and we need to find her…"

"The little, girly looking one?" Rainwater asked, his eyes alight with interest. "That little girl robot, the one the g-man stuck to like she was his lifeline?"

"What color was she?" Catherine blurted out.

Rainwater frowned at her then shrugged his shoulders. "Lady, I was looking through a night-scope. The only color is green."

"It's ok, Miss Cutter." Hound cajoled, and she felt her cheeks heat up. "Is this what she looked like?" The screen on the Blackberry blinked and the image flicked, drawing everyone's attention.

Rainwater leaned forward again, and reached with both hands towards the phone. He paused and looked questioningly towards the sheriff, the sheriff just nodded. He picked up the phone and studied the image on the screen. "Yup, that's her; I remember the peculiar little horns." He sat the phone back onto the table.

Catherine stole a quick look at the picture on the screen. A still image of the red femme looked back at her, her features shifted into a sly smile. Everything became real. These… people were fighting to survive. She had thought their primary concern was in finding out what happened to agent Simmons, but the Autobots wanted to know what had happened to one of their own. Trying to find her. She wanted to smack her forehead, of course they weren't immediately concerned about Simmons, he lay in a military hospital, moved there just before she, Hound and Cliffjumper made it to the Sheriff's office. When she stopped thinking like a human and started trying to see things from their perspective, she understood. Simmons was safe for the moment, so the focus would be on locating the missing.

"Her name is Velocity," Catherine said. "She is bit of a bitch, but the others seem to like her."

Rainwater and the sheriff stared at her with matching expressions.

"You know them?" The prisoner asked, his voice held equal amounts fear and awe.

Catherine, simply nodded. "You have been talking to one of them for a while. Mr. James Hound is just simply Hound. He is big, green and disguises himself as a Jeep. He needs to know what you saw, so we can try and find the femme… Velocity."

Michael Rainwater sat in silence for a few minutes, his brows furrowed together. "Hound?"

"Yes?"

"You really a big robot?"

"Yes. We… I thought that deception was the best route considering that so few humans have seen us, or tolerate our presence. All things being equal, I would have liked to meet you face to face, but…"

The man looked down at his wrists and the metal restraints on them. "I can see how that would be a problem. This girly robot your sweetie?"

Hound chuckled softly. "No, but I think that she is someone's sweetie. Even if I am wrong in that assumption, we need to find her, she is young and…"

Rainwater nodded sagely, his wrinkled face held wisdom that only age and experience brought, but it also held sadness. "I don't think that you will find her. They took her."

Hound sighed audibly. "I figured as much, but what happened before they took her?"

"They all stood around and talked for a while. The g-man stayed pressed against her leg, like he were hiding or using her as cover. Without any warning she scooped him up and threw him towards my place. Then the biggest one shot her. I couldn't see much after that, the flash blinded me for a few minutes, but I could hear them talking and walking around. They killed all my goats and left the fed to die." He turned towards Catherine, holding his arms up to show her his cuffs. "See what happens when someone does the 'right thing'".

The sheriff growled at Rainwater. "You have an NCIC hit. Someone wants to talk to you about absconding on a drug charge in 1968."

"She threw him?" shock and surprise filled Hounds voice. "She threw Simmons? They were friends."

"Apparently, they ain't friends, she picked him up and flung him like a meat Frisbee."

"Primus. I figured out the rest, but she tried to kill Simmons…Catherine, we need to get back to base. Sheriff Black, Mr. Rainwater, thank you for your time." The phone chimed as he cut the connection.

Catherine sat is stunned silence. She didn't like the femme and thought that Velocity acted in recklessly and had a hostile streak a mile wide, but she had tried to shelter the viewers during the spaceship's crash, using her own body to protect them from the falling rubble. Catherine had always felt safe around the femme, Hell, around all the Cybertronians. She had trouble understanding what… why the femme would try and hurt someone; especially someone they all thought was her friend.

She looked at Rainwater. "Something happened, something went wrong. Velocity isn't like that." She didn't know why she felt the need to defend the femme's actions when she didn't fully understand them herself.

Rainwater shrugged. "Shit happens. Is there anyway your robot friends could help me with this?" He held up his hands and jangled his cuffs.

Catherine blinked. "I'll see what Optimus can do, but the Autobots have a 'hands-off' policy with human laws and government." She stood and held her hand out to the Sheriff. He just looked at it with pale eyes.

Without thinking, she reached out to the prisoner and he grabbed her hand with both of his, he pulled her close. "You seem like a nice lady. Make sure that you don't get too deep with these guys. I have seen what they can do, and they aren't concerned about us." He let her go and leaned back in his chair. "Don't worry about me, I'll get through things, I always do."

She stood stunned, lost in his words until a hand touched her shoulder. The Sheriff directed her out of the room. He steered her towards the spartan lobby and leaned close to her. "I hate to say it, but I agree with the old tweeker, be careful."

Catherine couldn't step into the evening gloom and out of the incandescent light fast enough. Her heels clacked on the concrete as she hurried towards the waiting Jeep. Hound opened his door for her, and she curled into the comfort of his interior.

XxxX

A/N: I apologize for the unplanned hiatus. Work, family, bills and life in general coalesced to the point that something had to give. Primus I hope this chapter is decent, I have been poking it for so long, I can't tell.

Thank you to everyone who comments or places this and my other fics on watch or fav lists

Just to clarify, in this AU verse, when a mech/femme/seeker/minicon/onmicon/whatever is sparked, the new spark is housed in a fully "adult" frame. They don't go through physical growing, but they do mature. Sorry, no cuddly, widdle baby mechs here. Sparklings are young, but fully grown mechs that lack the experience of older ones. By Cybertronian terms Velocity is a sparkling, but she is also a mature femme due to her organic age, and life cycle. Had she been sparked on Cybertron, she would have stayed with her creators for several of vorn until she was knowledgeable enough to function within their society and make her own way, but she would never have had a childhood or "grown up".

Diun = Cybertronian month.

NCIC = National Crime Information Center. A factual database where law enforcement can check to see if someone if wanted in another city or state... among other things.

OK. I said that these fics weren't ROTF inspired, and that I was ignoring that movie, but the glowy tentacles were awesome, Soundwave had to keep them. XD