Author's Notes: I just want to give a shout out to Sheila Jenkins for her lovely review of this story. My writing schedule is hectic to the point of being almost random at this point, but when I saw that review I knew I wanted to write a new chapter for "Hook's Apprentice". I also want to thank everyone who is currently reading this story, as readers make stories live :)
Chapter 10
Temptation
Dead End was moved from the medbay to a cell in the brig after Ratchet treated his injuries. Dead End was sure at some point an Autobot would show up to interrogate him, so it seemed foolish in his mind for him to not stay in the medbay. After all, medical tools and a berth with some tightened straps seemed like the most obvious way to make him talk. Some Decepticons would have been frightened by the prospect. Dead End was strangely intrigued by the notion, however.
The first few hours in the brig left Dead End alone with his thoughts. His subspace was locked away by an arm brace that encrypted the subspace signal, so he couldn't even grab a book or a blade. He had nothing to entertain himself with, save for his own twisted imagination. That, however, was more than enough.
He pictured grinning Autobot faceplates leering down at him as his limbs were severed and he was forced to drink boiling acid through a tube. Dead End imagined gagging and contorting in pain, and an Autobot would punch him in the faceplate to silence his cries. The story was unfolding quite nicely, actually.
Dead End soon began acting out his macabre story, since no one was around to stop him. He lay on the floor with his arms and legs spread out, screaming that he would never talk, and that they should do their worst. Then he imagined that the acid was slowly lowered, drip by drip, on his forehead. He screamed a high-pitched pained scream as his mind conjured up the feeling of burning.
Then, as he writhed on the floor in imaginary pain, the door opened and a minibot walked in, holding a cube of energon.
"Yeesh, unless Mirage is playing a prank on you, you're even more cracked than I realized," The minibot remarked.
Dead End, seeing that his internal show had been interrupted, smoothly sat up on the floor and looked at the minibot with a dim unreadable visor; quite the contrast from a moment prior.
"You came down here to drink your energon?" Dead End asked in bemusement, "I suppose the suffering of a prisoner does make for a droll distraction while one is refueling."
"This is your ration, dummy!" The minibot snapped, "Now stand back. I need to make a small opening in the force field to push this cube through."
"This seems like a waste of good fuel," Dead End commented dully, "You do understand that I'm your enemy, right? You're literally wasting fuel to keep someone alive that wants to kill you."
"Yeah, well it wasn't my idea," The minibot groused, "I said just leave 'em until we get First Aid back, but no one listens to Gears."
"Your name is Gears?" Dead End asked curiously.
"Yeah. What of it?" Gears asked confrontationally.
"I like it when people refer to themselves in the third person," Dead End replied, "It's classy."
"Just back up so I can give you this fraggin' cube," Gears demanded.
"Of course. Dead End will comply," Dead End replied sardonically.
With that Dead End stood up and backed against the wall. He likely didn't have to go back that far, but he enjoyed being dramatic. Gears, naturally, was not amused. He just sighed sharply and pushed the cube through the hole, closing it up as quickly as he could.
"There. Maybe now I can go recharge in peace," Gears growled, "Just don't cause any trouble, 'Con. We're gonna exchange you for First Aid as soon as Megatron contacts us. Can't believe that stupid kid got himself into this mess."
"First Aid was one of the medics who treated me, wasn't he?" Dead End inquired.
"Yeah, and for some reason the 'Cons captured him," Gears explained, "Probably to get you back."
"Want to play a prank on Megatron?" Dead End asked conspiratorially.
"What kind of prank?" Gears asked, somewhat interested.
"Well…" Dead End knelt down so he could stage whisper to Gears, "Kill me, and then when you get First Aid back, throw my lifeless corpse on Starscream. Think about it. You'll get to hear his stupid whining as you run away with your prize, and you'll have killed one of your enemies. It's perfect!"
"Uh…you want me to do that?" Gears asked, dumbfounded.
"Well I doubt you could do it by yourself. I'm pretty strong," Dead End speculated, "However, I'm sure four or five minibots would be able to do it. Perhaps you could even get the terror twins in on it. I hear they enjoy the suffering of their enemies. I have no wings to tear off, but that just makes getting to the internals in my back easier."
"Okay, stop, stop!" Gears nearly gagged, "You're really messed up 'Con, you know that? We're not gonna kill you, okay? Just convalesce in here for a couple days, and then you can go back to Mega-dumb and the brainless brigade."
"You really have no imagination at all, do you?" Dead End asked disappointedly, "This is a war, right? Well, in war you kill your enemies. I'm your enemy, I'm helpless, and Starscream squealing like a glitch would be funny. It's a win/win."
"What's wrong with you, anyway?" Gears asked grumpily, "You should be planning your escape, not what we're gonna do with your body. Megatron must've used some really cheap parts when cobbling together your processor."
"Maybe," Dead End shrugged, "I don't know why this is such a big deal to you. The only reason I was created was to destroy you and everything you love. I'm a machine for war, but I'm a machine that can think and reason. Do you know how cruel it is to give a WMD a personality, a will to live, and a conscience? How am I supposed to do my job knowing that I could eventually be the last living thing on the planet? How boring is that?"
"So wait…you feel bad about stuff?" Gears asked, "Then why do you keep hurting people if you don't want to?"
"It's my job," Dead End replied as if that resolved everything, "So, do you want this energon back now? I'm sure your people can make better use of it than this."
"Nah. Keep it. I'm going back to my room."
With that Gears left, and Dead End was once again alone with his thoughts. He wanted to stuff the cube in his subspace to avoid the temptation to drink it, but he couldn't because it was locked. It wasn't fair. He knew his brothers could use this cube. In fact, the entire Decepticon army needed fuel if they wanted to live long enough for a quick death. If he had to keep staring at the cube however, he knew he would eventually drink it himself.
"So…temptation…" Dead End said to himself, "I suppose the Autobots do know how to torture a mech after all."
First Aid measured the cube carefully, feeling sick about his task despite it being an act of mercy. Wildrider had been given his quarter of a cube, but he wasn't satisfied with his allotted share.
"What do you mean, I can't have it all?!" Wildrider raged.
"More mechs need energon," Hook replied coolly even as First Aid backed away with the cube, "Now, you've been refueled. Get out of my medbay before I drain you of your most recent meal and scrap your body for parts!"
Despite the grisliness of that statement, this was actually one time First Aid didn't feel scared of a Decepticon. Hook's temper in that moment reminded First Aid a little too much of Ratchet. Of course the difference was Ratchet was mostly bark and little bite, but Hook had the authority to actually carry out his threats. Still, First Aid didn't think he would actually do so. Medical coding would surely prevent it.
Breakdown had to physically carry Wildrider away as he tried to lunge at First Aid to get the cube. First Aid took cover behind Scavenger's berth, and Scavenger didn't even acknowledge him as he did so. The poor mech must have been in terrible shape.
Before long Breakdown came back, alone, and with a new dent in his shoulder guard.
"He'll be fine," Breakdown said casually before waiting down a table.
"Alright then, now it's time to select three mechs to get the rest of the rations," Hook announced, "Obviously I am the senior member of the medical staff, so logically I should get a small portion. Any objections?"
"None from me," Scrapper replied, "I'm sure the others will feel the same way. As for the rest of the Decepticons, well, this ain't their business."
"Should I divide some up for Scavenger?" First Aid inquired.
"No," Hook replied, much to First Aid's shock, "He won't die from the rust, but he is still very weak. No, we need to save the other half of the cube for mechs that can go on a raid for more energon. Megatron is the likeliest candidate for a share, perhaps even for the entire remaining ration. He can raid, along with Breakdown who has already been fed. Megatron will save us."
"You expect me to help Megatron?" First Aid asked incredulously, "Never! He's trying to kill the people on this planet!"
"You would starve a mech for the sake of some tiny monkeys?" Scrapper berated.
"There is no need to argue about this," Hook assured them, "After all, it's not like the young Autobot gets a choice. He serves his purpose, he goes to the brig, and if he's lucky his teammates will buy his freedom. If not, then a firing squad will be his most likely fate."
Realizing the mood had shifted, Breakdown pushed First Aid to the ground and took the energon cube from him. He placed it on the table, and the two healthy Constructicons in the room glared down at their captive.
"I should have known you would do something like this," First Aid said regretfully, "Well, I will not resort to violence in turn. Unlike you, I know what it means to be a medic. We do no harm. No harm, as in to no one. I don't know when you lost that part of your coding, but I will never let it go!"
"You see what we deal with and yet you still think you have a moral edge over us?" Hook asked venomously, "Your people are responsible for every death that is to come, both to us and to any of your human pets that get in our way. Breakdown, keep an optic on this vermin. I'm going to contact Megatron."
"Belay that order," Scrapper interjected, "Hook, if we contact Megatron, then he'll know about Breakdown's stupid plan to get medical supplies. He'll know that Dead End is a POW. He'll know we have an Autobot in here with us right now."
"Is there a reason to hide any of these things from our leader?" Hook asked pointedly, "We got the medical supplies, Breakdown captured a prisoner, and we're going to give him two thirds of a cube of energon."
"Half," Scrapper corrected, "You should fuel up before we contact him."
"Well…" Hook looked down at the medical grade longingly, "…you do have a point. Thank you, Scrapper."
Hook drank a few sips of the cube, and nothing more. Even though he himself had said he should get a ration of energon so he could treat the wounded, he didn't want to take more than what was necessary. In this situation a mighty warrior was probably more useful than a medic, and a strategist that was also a warrior was even more valuable than that. Megatron would need every ounce of energon he could get if the Decepticon cause was going to survive.
Gears returned a few hours later to give Dead End another fuel ration. Most prisoners would only get one ration per day, but Ratchet had said Dead End needed more. Gears, naturally, complained at first.
"Why would some stupid Stunticon need extra fuel?" Gears griped, "He's made from earth car parts. He could go to any old gas station to get more energy."
"You know it doesn't work that way, Gears," Ratchet groused, "At least I hope you know it doesn't work that way. I shouldn't have to tell you to not drink gasoline. It'll combust your fuel lines."
"Great, then let's give the Decepticon gasoline," Gears joked.
"This isn't funny, Gears!" Ratchet yelled, "If you saw the readings I saw you wouldn't be so glib about this. His energon level when he came into my medbay was 9 percent."
"9?" Gears exclaimed skeptically, "Our boys didn't beat him that badly."
"It wasn't from bleeding out, at least not completely," Ratchet confided, "I think Megatron is starving his troops. I don't know why, but for some reason he's decided Dead End isn't worth feeding. Monstrous…"
"But ain't he from a combiner unit?" Gears asked in disbelief, "I mean, if he dies then Menasor dies."
"Don't ask me to explain Decepticon logic," Ratchet sighed, "Just give Dead End his second ration. He's going to need it."
Those words still echoed in Gears's audials as he made his way to the brig. No wonder Dead End was talking like a crazy person last time Gears saw him. His system was probably robbing his processor of its own electrical impulses just to survive. If Dead End stayed in that state for too long then he would have the processing power of a sparkling for the rest of his life. Gears had seen that happen to too many mechs in his time, both allies and enemies.
When Gears entered the brig he found Dead End scratching on the device strapped to his arm that kept his subspace locked. He appeared to have been picking at it for a long time, as several pieces of metal were bent back and there were scratches all over the darn thing.
"Hey, Decepticon!" Gears called out grouchily, "Fuel time!"
As Gears got closer however, he noticed a certain purple glow near where Dead End was sitting on the floor. It was the first energon cube, completely untouched.
"Hey, what are you, stupid?" Gears snapped, "You didn't drink your energon!"
"I know," Dead End replied casually.
"Are you afraid it's poisoned or something?" Gears asked mockingly.
"If it's poison then I'll certainly drink it," Dead End quipped, "If for no other reason than to get away from you Autobots. What do you want, anyway?"
"I'm here to give you your second ration," Gears told him.
"No, you're not," Dead End scoffed, "It's only been 5.7 hours. You wouldn't waste this much fuel on a prisoner. Even you aren't that thick."
"I'm not, but Ratchet is," Gears retorted, "Now don't move. I gotta make a hole in the force field again."
Dead End merely shrugged and went back to trying to pick the lock on his subspace. He barely even paid attention as Gears shoved the second cube of energon into his cell.
"There," Gears huffed, "Now, eat."
"Excuse you?" Dead End replied snobbishly.
"You heard me, Decepticon," Gears said firmly, "I ain't leaving this room until I see you drink at least one of those cubes of energon."
"No," Dead End pouted, "You can't make me."
"Look buster, I know your system ain't sending the signals you need to know you're low on fuel," Gears said as patiently as he could manage, "But if you don't eat something soon you're gonna suffer permanent damage. Is that what you want?"
"Do you want an honest answer to that?" Dead End replied cheekily.
"Look, if I have to tell Ratchet you're not refueling, then he'll have to deal with you himself," Gears warned him, "Ratchet the Hatchet ain't above force feeding you if need be."
"Hm…Maybe we can work something out," Dead End proposed, "I might be willing to drink your not-poison, if you're willing to help me unlock my subspace."
"And let you get to your weapons? No way!" Gears shouted, "I'm not a fool. You're just trying to escape."
"Escape? From the place that gives me free food and the amusement of angry Autobots? Why would I ever want to leave?"
"Just drink your slop!" Gears ordered.
"Not until you unlock my subspace," Dead End argued.
"That ain't happening!"
"Then I don't want your perfectly safe energon!" Dead End countered, "At least have the decency to poison it!"
"Listen here, you Decepti-turkey! Your processor needs fuel or else you're gonna suffer brain damage. Do you want that? Huh?"
"I want my subspace!" Dead End screamed, finally tired of trying to maintain his composure, "I can't store the cube unless I have my subspace, you mewling worthless dwarf! Open my fragging subspace or I'll show you what I can do without my weapons!"
"From the other side of the force field? Puh-lease," Gears snorted.
That was when Dead End did something Gears could never have anticipated. He tried to reach through the force field, being held back by the magnetic and electrical force. Dead End was obviously in pain as he tried to push through, but he didn't stop until his clawing servos managed to brute force their way to the other side!
Gears, terrified, tried to back away, but Dead End was faster. He grabbed Gears and yanked him into the brig cell with him! The pain that shot through Gears as he was being dragged in was so intense that he passed out, and Dead End dropped him on the ground.
Dead End panted from the exertion of his endeavor. His fuel was down to 7 percent, and he was sure that soon he would pass out himself without energon. He looked at the two cubes on the ground, and decided that he could have one after all. At least this way he still had one to take back to the Nemesis. Maybe if he held Gears for ransom he could get even more, and someone to unlock his subspace too.
