CHAPTER TWELVE

XXX

"Our master has been gone for some time," Airachnid said aloud, turning on her pedes to face the bridge occupants. Soundwave gazed at her wordlessly, though he did not need to say much - he already made it clear what he thought of the spider-bot when she mentioned Megatron's disappearance. "Though I must admit, the last time he disappeared he returned with a useful asset; which makes me wonder what he is up to now."

"Perhaps he is recovering," Knock Out said casually, the medic standing with a servo on his hips. "The whole prophecy incident did take quite a bit out of him."

"That was many Earth solar cycles ago," Airachnid waved a servo. "You would assume he rested immediately after the fact. Soundwave, what do you think?"

She turned to the third in command with a dangerous grin, her fangs peeking from behind her lip plates. Soundwave was anything but intimidated, merely selecting the various audio files he wished to use to piece together the sentence.

"That is- none of your concern," he answered her, watching her grin drop ever so slightly as compound optics narrowed.

"I would at least prefer to be privy to when he decides to be absent, instead of remaining in the dark," she retorted, patience short. "Especially with our special guest. It would be a shame if he became suspicious-"

A servo lashed out and gripped her neck, squeezing energon lines. She choked on her next words, servos latching onto the one holding her captive as her spider legs scrabbled for purchase. Soundwave had been impossibly fast, something Airachnid continued to underestimate.

Her vocalizer glitched, unable to form full sentences as static laced her words.

"I didn't- threaten an- anything," she hissed, digits clawing into merciless armor. "Pax- i-is smart a-a-after all-l. . ."

Soundwave waited, counting a few moments, then finally released her. After her earlier stunt during Unicron's awakening, he had no patience for any idle threats the second-in-command was implying. Though she did have a point - Orion Pax was naive, not stupid. If one wrong thing was said or done, the carefully-built lie Megatron had constructed would fall.

The silent communications officer knew exactly where his master was, though in truth he could not fully approve. He had known Amicus, and occasionally interacted with the human whilst Megatron collected information from him. The organic had successfully seduced the Decepticon leader, though for what reason they would never know. Perhaps his intentions were pure, and genuine - though Megatron was, admittedly, an odd choice. Regardless, now the roles were reversed, and his master was obsessive.

At this moment in time the third in command believed the interactions did not cloud his master's judgement, however Soundwave was monitoring him carefully every time he returned to the warship. Perhaps worse, however, was that the human was under the protection of the Autobots, which posed a risk to Megatron. Though the odds of the Autobots using Jack as a ransom in order to coerce Megatron into doing something were slim, he could not discount the possibility. Truly, if it had been up to Soundwave, he would have the human transported aboard the Nemesis.

Megatron was not taking any risks. He wished to keep Jack in his natural habitat, for comfort's sake, and because it ensured his every basic human need was met. That, and if any of the other Decepticons - especially Airachnid - found the human, they would most certainly exploit him or unwittingly kill him. Megatron knew his kind well - they would destroy Jack regardless of their master's command.

That did not prevent Soundwave from beginning his own secret project. The Vehicons he had tasked for the jobs were ignorant of their purpose, and he could always dispose of them if they became wise to what they were doing. He was constructing a room in which Jack could comfortably live in, in the event of an emergency. Even though he did not agree with Megatron, he was loyal to him, and would go above and beyond to follow his orders. The object of his obsession would be kept safe.

Soundwave would make sure of it.

XXX

Jack was sincerely disappointed when he woke up and could feel the familiar weight of Megatron at his side.

He had hoped the tyrant had gone, even if it was only temporary. Surely he had things to do outside of hovering over Jack like a fanged shadow, such as trying to win a war.

As he stirred Megatron refused to move, everything eerily silent as he laid there and attempted to figure out what was wrong. Two beats, a third, and the answer dawned on him.

Megatron was not breathing.

Craning his head Jack saw the tyrant's optics were offline, the dull grey shadows a bit off-putting, as usually there was at least a soft red glow to indicate they were working. As his fingers touched cool metal, Jack came to the panic-inducing conclusion that maybe Megatron had died.

Moving his heavy arm off of him, Jack sat up and looked around. His mother had since left for work hours ago; he could tell because of the time, but since Arcee had not torn down the house to get to him he assumed Megatron had gone into hiding prior to her arrival. Okay, great. So maybe he was sleeping? Really deeply?

If that was the case Jack did not want to wake him and make him cranky, swinging his legs over the side of his bed then stretching and standing. He actually felt good, though he still had some of the body aches and some dizziness from getting up too fast. Regardless, he was feeling better, and part of him was excited for this development. Maybe by tomorrow he would be well enough to visit the 'bots.

Gathering his clothes he changed in his bathroom, pausing when he realized the mirror was no longer broken. He lightly poked it, the structure sturdy; so, his mother must have fixed it. Why did she not say anything, then? Or at the very least he expected her to have him fix it, since he was the one who broke it . . . because if she did not, there was no one else in this house who did.

He shook his head, resolving to just not bring it up unless she did. Maybe she felt bad because he had been sick. Maybe she thought it had just broken on its own. He chewed his lip, but let it be.

Freshening up, he threw his clothes in the laundry hamper and made his way to the kitchen. He felt great, cracking a few eggs as his stomach rumbled for the first time in days. It felt like he was going to kick this illness to the curb, scrambling the eggs while he pulled out some vegan bacon and threw that in the pan. He smiled as the smell did not bother him, no ill feeling resting in his gut and threatening to purge everything.

As he worked, he did not feel the regular chills which had plagued his body, ecstatic that his fever was probably broken.

It took him some time to make and eat breakfast, occasionally looking over his shoulder to see if Megatron had somehow snuck his way in, but every time he was met with an empty house.

That's not like him. Jack frowned as he cleaned dishes, putting them away and heading back into his room. Megatron was still there, just the way he had left him, and now the human was panicking.

"Megatron, you have to get up," he snapped a little loudly. "You can't just sleep here, what if someone catches you?"

The dictator did not stir. Steeling his nerves, Jack resorted to shaking him.

"Megatron. Megatron!" He shouted, having to use his entire body weight to give the Decepticon a good rustle.

Finally red optics flickered online, but they were dim, not focusing on Jack as slurred words tumbled from the tyrant's glossa.

"Low . . . Soundwave . . ." he mumbled, then slipped back into stasis. Jack stared at him, first having to figure out what Megatron said, then piece together what it meant.

"No, no, no," he hissed, trying to shake Megatron awake again. "If you're low, go back to your warship! Don't crash here, get up!"

This time he did not even get a flicker, Jack left with what was essentially dead weight on his bed.

Getting to your diminutive size burns much more energon than I care to expend.

"For the love of-" Jack wanted to scream, starting to pace in his room. Megatron was low on energon, so low he wanted Jack to call Soundwave. It was an emergency.

He had no idea how long Megatron had if his energon was low. His systems had clearly shut down, as he was no longer breathing, and barely responded to Jack shaking and shouting at him. He tried to keep himself from panicking, realizing that Megatron's insistence of staying with him had resulted in him running out of energon. If he had already been fairly low, then shrinking down to such a small size and staying that way without refueling had been costly.

Part of him wanted to curse at the Decepticon for being so stupid. Was he so insistent on tormenting Jack that he forgot how to function?

The human took a deep breath, another small voice speaking in the back of his head.

He's vulnerable. You could just . . . let him die. Or take him to the Autobots.

Jack looked up, staring at Megatron's still frame. The idea was absolute madness . . . but he could get away with it. He could just have the warlord run out of energon and die. Or, in this vulnerable state, the Autobots could capture him.

But they have no place to hold him. And if he dies . . .

He cringed. Soundwave knew exactly where he lived. It was only a matter of time before the spymaster went searching for his master, and he would start at the Darby household. Naturally, Jack could have his mom stay at the Autobot base - but then that meant explaining everything: confessing why a small version of the most dangerous creature in the universe was in their house, and low on energon.

He grimaced. Would he risk it all just to end this war? To give the Autobots the advantage they need if they want Orion Pax back?

The young man paused, because nothing would stop Soundwave from just killing Orion Pax - Optimus Prime - if he let Megatron die.

Keeping him alive it is.

There was only one massive, gargantuan problem; well, two, actually: he had no way of contacting Soundwave, and he had no idea how he was going to hide Megatron from his mom. He eyed beneath his bed, but getting Megatron stuffed under there was going to be a problem. His shoulders were massive, and there was the risk that his pedes were going to be sticking out from the bottom. As hilarious as that imagery was, it was out of the question. He looked around the room, finally settling on his closet.

It was a walk-in,though admittedly a small one, only a pace and a half's worth of space in it. What made it a great candidate, though, was at this point in his life his mother made him do his own laundry. So maybe, just maybe . . .

The Decepticon leader was fortunate Jack was feeling better, and he was lucky the teenager was feeling merciful; even if it was to preserve the lives of his loved ones from Soundwave's wrath.

He wondered just how long it would take for the third in command to come looking, and how he would. He prayed it was subtle.

"Okay, Megatron, if you're not going to wake up, it's into the closet you go," Jack tried to sound threatening, even if the Cybertronian could not hear him. With a huff he grabbed Megatron's arm, pulling with all of his might.

Despite being made entirely of solid metal, Megatron was shockingly light. Jack's muscles still burned, but he was not a strong man to begin with. Eventually he was able to orient Megatron to where he could loop his hands under his arms, dragging him fully off the bed and slowly moving him towards the closet. He had to make sure the Cybertronian's sharp armor did not cut him, gritting his teeth with strain.

It took several minutes and several breaks before he was able to get Megatron through the door and stuffed in a corner, hiding behind a shoe rack and some clothes. It was weird, just seeing the mech slumped against the wall, his optics closed and armor still. Jack took a deep breath, sighing as he closed the door to his closet.

Apparently, he got what he wished for. Just not in a way he expected.

XXX

Thanks to feeling better and the peace and quiet, Jack managed to get homework done. It went slower than usual, however, because he kept obsessively checking on Megatron to see if his condition had changed. Touching his neck, he had been able to feel the equivalent of a pulse, which told him the Decepticon was still alive. It drove him nuts, thinking about waiting for Soundwave to figure out something was wrong before he intervened.

He was also stressing over the very slim chance his mother would step into his closet for some unknown reason, discovering the tyrant haphazardly hidden behind his clothes. There was way too much just waiting to go wrong, and the boy wanted to kick himself.

If June found out, she would most definitely tell Arcee. And while the motorcycle would wonder if she was going crazy, Arcee would turn to Jack for an explanation - and he was already struggling to lie. There would be an investigation, Agent Fowler would go looking. And when he found him . . .

There would be so many questions, and Jack would be in so much trouble. He was not necessarily concerned about his mom thinking he was not just into girls; it was the thought that he would pursue a relationship with Megatron. It would destroy the Autobot's trust in him, and it would destroy his image as a whole. The American government could even brand him a terrorist.

Stop it. It isn't your fault. You can always say he forced you.

Jack's stomach turned. Except he didn't. You agreed to it.

He wished he could find more ease in deception, but he was never raised that way. He was an honest man, which was simultaneously a strength and weakness.

"Just give Soundwave time to figure it out," Jack told himself quietly, taking a deep breath. "It'll be okay. It's fine."

Deciding he needed to do something other than worry, the young man got up, intent on leaving his bedroom. However, he instead went into his closet, pushing aside some clothes and crouching next to the sleeping Megatron. His frame was warm, the heat building up in what Jack assumed was an attempt to turn off non-essential processes to conserve energon. He touched his neck, fingers resting against the thick neck cables there.

Like every other time, he had the brief thought of ripping one out, causing Megatron to perish. His spark would be extinguished, and surely Jack could find a way to get away with the crime.

Except there was Soundwave, again. He would find a way to pin it on him and terminate the human in revenge. Or hurt his mom.

It made Jack feel a bit better to know that was the only thing keeping him in line. He could have the thought that he was reluctant to terminate Megatron because he actually cared, because he - Jack wanted to vomit -loved him.

He looked at Megatron, trying to fathom having any attachment to the Decepticon. It took an immense amount of imagination to even think of Megatron as . . . being intimate. Jack cringed at the idea, looking at the sharp lip plates and the denta which hid behind them. His eyes gazed down at the pointed digits draped across knife-edged hips, and the jagged chest plates above them. They murdered and conquered without hesitation or discrimination.

And yet somehow he made it work with Amicus. Jack cringed at the idea, however a part of him knew the tyrant could be gentle, if he wished. He tried not to think of it for himself, but he could not help his wandering mind. It helped that Megatron was "asleep," making it easier for him to justify his curiosity. It was not like the tyrant could care.

His fingers moved from the strong neck to mouth plates, feeling the jagged edge. The pad of his thumb caressed the edge, feeling the scars which surrounded it. He also touched the ones around his eyes, wondering what could have caused them. Perhaps it was his years in the gladiatorial ring, as well as the war. He might have even picked them up while mining, though Jack hated to imagine what was strong enough to rip through tough Cybertronian armor.

A shuddering breath escaped his chest, and his hand dropped from the dangerous face. Shaking his head, Jack leaned back on his heels. He should not be entertaining any ideas, though Megatron's state allowed him to justify his curiosity.

He cringed.

His heart jumped into his throat when the garage door opened, signaling his mother was home and jerking him out of his thoughts. He hastily put the pile of clothes back and slipped out of his closet, shutting the light off and closing the door. Taking several deep, calming breaths, he forced himself to focus. He had to stop thinking like that. If Megatron had been awake he would have never dared to try and touch his face - the fact he did it while the tyrant was in stasis was like a foot-in-the-door phenomenon, which could easily turn into a downward spiral.

Taking a brief moment to collect himself, and pray that he looked normal, he opened the bedroom door as his mother came into the house.

"Jack?" She brightened, smiling. "You're looking much better."

"I feel better," he admitted, sharing her smile. "I think my chills are gone, and I haven't felt too sick. Do you think I could maybe visit the 'bots tomorrow?"

"Ah, yes, a Saturday," his mother's eyes sparkled. "Funny how you were conveniently sick until the weekend."

He rolled his eyes, smiling despite the anxiety which made his heart beat erratically. "If I wanted to pretend to be sick, I wouldn't vomit every other minute."

June looked thoroughly amused, placing a hand on his forehead. He felt a little warm, but not feverish.

"Let me take your temperature," she said, her son following her into the kitchen and waiting patiently for her to take out the thermometer. He felt immensely relieved when the thermometer beeped at 99.9 degrees. His mother read it. "Well, it's not 100.4 . . . but let's measure it tomorrow morning. If it goes down, I will let you visit the Autobots. But if you throw up . . ."

"I'll stay home," Jack promised.

June put the thermometer away, insisting he take a Tylenol before she disappeared in the back of the home, into her room, going to change into more comfortable clothing. Jack took the medicine with a glass of water, excited at the prospect of seeing the 'bots again and being updated on their progress.

His excitement diminished, however, when he recalled the literal monster in his closet. It would be easy to just not talk about it, yet it would tug at the back of his mind the entire time. The urge to scream it out would be borderline unbearable.

And while he was at the base, it would leave Megatron defenseless. If Soundwave decided to go sniffing around, no one would be home. It was probably preferable that way, however Jack would rather be home to explain himself than Soundwave draw his own conclusions.

Jack took a breath, trying to convince himself it was the anxiety talking. Surely things would work out better than he was expecting; after all, he was thinking of the worst case scenario. The odds of it happening . . .

Things were going to be okay. He just had to wait for any possible communication from Soundwave.

With that resolution he began looking through cabinets and the refrigerator, his stomach grumbling. It had been a while since he had felt hungry, and for once he was grateful to feel so.

"What's for dinner?" June asked, joining him in the kitchen after pulling her hair back into a loose ponytail.

"Not sure yet. Something good," Jack answered, earning a chuckle.

"Let's do something a little bland, just to give your stomach time to recover," June said, reaching into the pantry. "How does a baked potato sound?"

He thought briefly. "Yeah, baked potato sounds amazing. With butter?"

"Just a little," June allowed, selecting the biggest ones she could find washing and piercing their skin with a fork before wrapping them in tinfoil and placing them into the oven.

While they waited Jack sipped on some diluted lemonade, unable to believe how good he felt despite being sicker than a dog only a couple days before. He made a mental note to never get dengue ever again.

He and his mother ate their meal in relative silence, eventually bidding each other good night. Changing into night clothes, he took the opportunity to slip the Key to Vector Sigma in its normal hiding spot in his dresser, not wanting to take any chances even with Megatron in his current state. Unable to help himself, he went to his closet again to check on the dictator.

Megatron still had a pulse, though Jack could not tell if it was weaker than normal. He realized it was going to feel weird, not having Megatron beside him while he slept. There would be no comforting white noise, no heavy weight across his chest or stomach, and no claws in his hair.

It was weird to think about.

He once again stared at Megatron, gazing at the relaxed face. In this position he was hardly intimidating, a harmless frame stuffed behind teen clothes. It was a demeaning position, to be certain, but it was not like he could care at this point in time. Too bad he was not awake, as surely he could afford to be in a humbling position on occasion; not that he would see it that way.

His heart sank a little. Megatron could easily use this as an excuse to extend their time together, perhaps even milk a few more days out of Jack. He wondered if he could be brave enough to tell the tyrant no, too bad, you should have paid better attention to your energon levels.

It was almost cruel, though, and Jack hated how he felt bad about saying something like that. He had been sick, and Megatron had essentially put everything on hold to stay with him. Regardless, it was his responsibility to take care of himself; Jack could not take the blame for his slip-up.

He grimaced. Well, if he's going to extend our time together, I'll have to plan my next moves carefully . . .

Jack had a goal, but it was not one he liked to think about often: a kiss by the end of the month. By the final, fourth week, he would have planted his lips somewhere on the warlord's body. Preferably his servo, or maybe somewhere on his helm - it made him ill to think of anywhere else. He figured it would be a demonstration of progress, a way to fool Megatron into thinking they were becoming a thing. His only problem was gauging how the warlord would react - and if he would take it as a sign to take things further.

He was unsure when he would begin to taper things off again. For now, he wanted Megatron convinced he had a chance - but by the end of the third month, he needed to convince him they were over. It was a complicated, delicate process, and he was not entirely sure how to achieve it. So far, he had decided to try and allow Megatron to come closer than arm's length, then slowly push him back. It would be difficult, and he expected him to push back and try to sink his claws into his skin.

Again, don't go too far, and don't go too fast. Establish boundaries.

There was a moment of hesitation, then he reached out and touched Megatron's helm again, eyes falling to rigid lip plates.

The stupid thought which crossed his mind was, in fact, stupid, but he could not fully push it away. Just the idea of a kiss made his muscles tighten up, and Jack felt insane. He wanted to hope that physical affection was not something Megatron was interested in, however they now cuddled on a regular basis; and it was implied that Amicus gave him his all. That left little to the imagination.

Jack grit his teeth. He would never go that far, especially with a robotic organism that had more sharp edges than a paper shredder. However, there had to be something, or Megatron would get wise to his pure deception and terminate their agreement.

Jack would be fair game, and he doubted Megatron treated his prisoners as nicely as he did his lovers.

Lover. I'm not one of them.

Jack sighed, steeling himself before he just went for it, his lips touching the smooth metal of Megatron's helm, between his eyes. He resisted the urge to immediately cringe after, deciding that was more than enough.

"'Night, Megatron," he said, immediately standing and turning away. His skin tingled everywhere, his nerves buzzing as he tried not to think about what he had done. He walked out of his closet, shutting the door and immediately crashing into his bed. Pulling the covers up to his chin he buried his face in his pillow, wanting to scream.

If this was what he felt like after just a simple kiss on the forehead, on an unsuspecting Megatron, he was in more trouble than he thought. He did not have to like it, he just wished he felt less conflicted by it. His body was buzzing in a frenzy, as if he had jumped off a cliff.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," he said aloud, wishing for some kind of validation. "But I just . . . have eleven more weeks. Almost ten. Maybe I can make it. I have to make it."

He turned on his side, closing his eyes and trying to force himself to sleep. It seemed more difficult to fall asleep now than it ever did with Megatron at his side.

Scrap.