Author's Note:
Trigger warning for this chapter! There will be topics of abuse! Please read with caution.
—Stwawbewwy
IX. Did You Get Enough Love, My Little Dove?
"A holomatter avatar is a solid light projection technology. Holomatter projectors can create projected facsimiles of native species which are too small or fleshyfor the cybertronians to mimic with our mechanicalaltmodes."
"So... technically, it's a holoform. I know what a holoform is, my Lord."
It was late at night, somewhere around ten. The sparklings were fast asleep and Persephone was wide awake after drinking some paracetamol to ease the pain in her body.
It's been days and she did nothing but sleep and eat due to the high fever she was having; her body temperature being around thirty-nine point six Celsius. At first, she thought she was having a weird fever dream to see a tiny— tiny in terms of being closer to her height—version of Megatron.
And when it finally clicked to her that she was in fact not dreaming, it led to their current conversation.
"Of course you do." The warlord rolled his optics, the fire cackling pleasantly as it lit up the darkness. "Then I assume that you're aware of what it is capable of?"
"Yup! You guys can feel things like it's another body... and that's about it." Persephone smiled, hugging the covers close to her when a shiver went down her spine.
She had asked him to move her bed somewhere near the snow so that it'd be cold. That way, her body would cool off. At least, that's what her aunts did whenever Persephone had a fever. She rarely got sick, but when she does catch one... Oh boy, it hits her very hard.
Hence, the woman was bedridden.
"It is not 'another body'. Holomatter avatars are extensions of ourselves. With it, we can interact with smaller creatures." The warlord explained, looking at her as he sat beside her legs. "To blend in without any of you knowing unless we reveal ourselves. But... I must confess that I am using it for the purpose of this." He gestured to them; he was using the advanced technology to converse with her at a closer proximity.
"So, the Decepticon... is still you." Persephone chirped, pointing at his ' real' body. "Am I right, my Lord?"
Megatron nodded slowly, offering a hand to her. "Correct. Therefore, this is not exactly my real body; it is not the real me." Persephone understood what he meant. She placed a hand on his, her cheeks growing warmer when his fingers wrapped around hers. "Even though it is not... my true form, it can allow me movement that I cannot do in my original size."
He withdraws his servo from hers, the warlord's hand hovering over her face. "Such as actions like these... May I?"
She looks at him for a moment before nodding her head.
Persephone's breath hitched when his hand finally settled beside her face; skin making contact with the metal surface of his servo, making her sigh in relief at how cold he was against her burning flesh.
Her eyes fluttered shut.
Finger grazed her cheek, the feather-light caress across her skin sent a delicious shiver down her spine.
Her body beckons her to lean into his touch, loving the way her face seemed to fit in his palm like a glove. Persephone doesn't try to stop the pleased smile that blossoms on her face or the soft, happy sigh that follows.
When was the last time someone had gently held her like this?
Persephone didn't know the answer.
"I've forgotten how that feels..." Her head was reeling, her skin feeling like electricity was coursing through them; completely blissed out. Looking up at him in a half-lidded daze. "You feel... good."
Cold fingers pressed against her skin gently, feeling the metal stretch as he cradled the back of her head, Megatron paused; gazing down at her with such awe. The way he looked at her sent her heart beating fast—he looked at her as if she was a fine specimen.
As if she herself had caught his undivided attention.
"It is rare to see a human be so... docile." Megatron leans in closer to her, his thumb resting at her chin and tilting her head softly from side to side; the rocking motion only adding up to the dopamine that's pumping in her system.
Hellfire eyes taking in the sight of her, as if he was looking at her to see if she had any cracks or damages.
"Humans are usually docile when they've catched a fever." She softly laughed.
"Even before your organic form had succumbed to sickness. I expected you to be in a state of hysteria when you roused from your recharge. Especially when you have encountered a being that reminds you of the devil—the antithesisof truth, you said."
Her head swims as she soaked up the attention she was receiving. It's a little hard to focus on anything but the connection of her skin against the cool metal of his hand, the way his thumb had gone back to gently stroking her cheek.
"You humans are strange." Megatron chuckled at her, peering down at her with eyes that bore through her soul. "If I am honest... this is the first time I held a human in such close proximity."
"Now I feel honoured," She grins at him before she separates herself from his grasp to sneeze; head turned away from him as snot lands on her mouth. Persephone wiped the fluids with the box of tissue she kept beside her, disposing of the used ones on the ground. "Sorry about that."
He laughs at her.
"It is quite alright." Megatron reassured her with a grimace. "How are you feeling?"
"I still feel like shit," Persephone answered.
Her body was still heavy, sitting up felt like a chore and sleeping in all day was what her body craved. She laid back down, turning to her side so she could still face the warlord. Persephone's eyes closed on instinct when Megatron placed a hand on her forehead.
This was nice.
"I never understand why humans would place their servo on another one when they are sick."
"So... then why did you do that just now?"
"I was curious as to why, so I thought it'd be reasonable to see for myself."
Persephone snickered, shaking her head. The bewildered look on his face was adorable. If she didn't know any better, Persephone might have forgotten that he was a ruthless warlord. "Humans tend to press their hands on one's forehead to check for a fever," She explained, yawning afterwards. "If their body feels hotter than usual, then it means they are sick."
The warlord processed her words with a hum. He looked at her for a moment, before placing a hand on her forehead again.
"Femme, you have a fever." He tells her.
"Really? I didn't know I had one." She rolled her eyes, snickering.
Megatron chuckled, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. "What would you do without me?" He hummed, smiling softly.
"Oh, you know... just chillin' in Cedar Rapids."
"What in Primus's name does that mean?"
"It's a human joke, you wouldn't understand."
He rolled his eyes at her, shaking his helm. Megatron tucks her in and the action itself felt surreal that it made her chuckle. "Tell me about your scars."
She recoils. He might as well throw her in a frozen lake, successfully shaking Persephone out of the dopamine haze she was in.
"What?" She asked.
Megatron gestured to her arm. "The horizontal scars on your limb, femme." He elaborated, eyes gently gazing at her. "I wish to know why they are there."
Persephone took in a deep breath, eyeing him cautiously.
"No." She stated.
"No?" He asked.
"Yes. No," Persephone repeated. "My scars are none of your concern. It doesn't have anything to do with you, so you shouldn't have to worry." She tried her best to keep the venom out of her own voice, but some of it seeped out.
He looks at her, before fixing his gaze towards the fire—looking away from her.
Persephone felt uneasy, wondering if what she said was wrong. She bit her lip, clutching the covers near her; her gaze focused on the ground. Was he going to hit her? Maybe, he would force her to show her self-inflicted scars.
Her brows furrowed, wishing the ground would swallow her whole.
She didn't want to be here anymore if he was going to use the silent treatment on her.
She didn't want him to hate her.
"I wish to know about them so that I may understand you more," Megatron said, his voice soft yet piercing the silence; as if he was afraid that he would startle her. "I will listen when you are ready. It is your choice to tell me or not. As your leader, I hope you know that you are not alone in your battles."
Persephone felt something wet drop on her fingers as well as something wet seeping into the crevices of her ear. Megatron became somewhat blurry and when she blinked, fat droplets of tears cascaded down her face.
There was something about his words that pulled at the strings of her heart. She finds herself lunging at the alien warlord, her arms clasping around his neck as she sobbed.
She doesn't understand why she's crying. Why the wails that escaped her lips sounded the way that they are.
Hesitantly, Megatron wrapped his arms around her; he pulled her closer as she clung to him for dear life. Persephone could feel his fingers tangling themselves in her hair, softly scratching her scalp which seemed to soothe the human woman.
They stayed like that for a very long time, the coolness of his body made her comfortable and the strange whirring and random clicks she could here had tickled that one part of her brain which helped her to calm down from her sobbing feat; Persephone sniffling, realizing that Megatron had been rocking her softly.
"Could you hold me a little longer?" Persephone hesitantly asked.
She was asking too much from him, and she knows this. Her lips trembled, wanting nothing more but to disappear; chest weighing heavy.
She was being a burden.
Again.
Persephone knew better than to act out like this—crying and sobbing in front of someone; a ruthless tyrant, no less! But she couldn't help it. The way he spoke to her sounded genuine, she just couldn't help but feel... seen.
The warlord tightened his grip around her.
She nuzzled her face at the crook of his neck, soothing her worries as Megatron murmured "For as long as you need."
She takes a moment.
Her voice was soft, barely audible when she muttered. "Promise me you won't make fun of me if I tell you, okay?"
"Upon my spark, femme." The warlord promised.
And that seemed to convince her.
The warlord sat there, concerned for the human's well-being. He didn't expect her to burst out sobbing. He didn't even expect her to suddenly hug him. It took a while before she lets go, wrapping her arms to herself as her gaze flickered downwards; her hands holding his.
Megatron marvelled at her hands that were small compared to him, covering them completely when he wrapped his digits around hers.
"I don't really know how to start this." Persephone sheepishly admitted, her servos trembling in his grasps. "It might take a while to explain..."
"I'd listen to you no matter how long it may be," Megatron reassured her, giving her servos a gentle squeeze. "I will listen to whatever you say, femme. Do not fret."
"Well, you see... my mother was always away, overseas. So, the one who took care of us were my aunts." She closed her eyes, brows furrowed. "I could only remember little snippets of my childhood, but I do remember that whenever I did something bad, I would either get yelled at while the grab my ear closer to their mouth or they would smack me with a hanger until it breaks. Worse case scenario they use the walis... either it's the tingting or tambo kind. They did that for as long as I remembered."
He winced at her words after looking up what 'walis' meant... and to think a grown human would do such a thing to their younglings.
"I had two older siblings—Leon is the eldest and Maria is the middle child. I'm the youngest. Leon and I fight... a lot. Maria either breaks us up or eggs us on. However, when our aunts are almost home, we'd patch ourselves up. When we managed to tell our mother what they were doing, she was furious and had an altercation with them... However, when she left to work again, things got worse." Persephone grimaced, holding in her breath before she spoke again. "Whenever we call our mother, or when she calls us, our aunts are always listening. Their ears are always pressed near ours... the old Nokia phones are pretty loud." She chuckled as she shook her head.
A spark of ire makes itself known in his spark; angry at what she went through. He grit his teeth as he perked up on his seat.
"It came to a part where they messed up the relationship between us and our mother... painting her as the villain. For the longest time, I thought she was out to get us when in reality our aunts were weaponizing us against our own mom... After all, the greatest pain a mother can have is when her own children hates her." Tears started falling down her face, sobbing through gritted teeth. "It came to the point where I didn't know who to trust anymore. Where I felt like I had no one but my own... Then, I discovered the calming feeling when I hurt myself." Persephone laughs bitterly. "It's weird how cutting myself somehow soothes the pain I feel—really contradicting, to be honest. It became some sort of addiction, whenever I hadn't done so in a long time then my wrists would start to itch. It also helped me to... distract my thoughts. So instead of having trouble untangling my head, I'd instead focus on the sting from the wounds."
The little spark of anger within him had turned into a wildfire. How dare they?! Megatron could just imagine a grown cybertronian, hurting a sparkling. It sent his energon boiling.
Humans were violent... but to think that they would do such a thing to their own younglings. It made the warlord want to vomit in disgust.
Who knew the human race would stoop so low?
"I was raised in a very religious Catholic household. So when my aunts found out about the scars on my wrists... and you know what they did?" Persephone laughed humorlessly. "They made fun of me; laughed at how 'silly' I was being. Telling me that I shouldn't have anything to be depressed about since I have everything I could have and that—and I quote— "You will go to hell and suffer for all eternity if you kill yourself". There were times when they would lock us in a dark room and have us pray for our sins. The worst part was that the religious statues were terrifying... So, it wasn't long before I acted out again and destroyed them. I didn't care if my feet got wounded or if it bled—I just want them to stop looking at me. I don't know how or why, but they always, always find a way to put the blame on me. The self-hatred and this... this feeling of despair just continued to eat me alive. I still cut my wrists at the time, but... but I moved on to my thighs. That way no one could see how embarrassing I am... how sensitive I am to their words. It's honestly... a miracle how I'm still alive, considering I tried many, many times to just stop existing..."
It angered him.
The flames of wrath roared loudly and ruthlessly within him. His free hand went to dry her tears, holding her face in his grasp as she sobbed.
"Please... Please, don't make fun of me. Don't laugh at what I told you... Please," She begged
Megatron growled. "It disgusts me to think that such lowly insects would hurt their youngling just to get off on the fact that they have more power than them."
There was a distant look in her optics; She was physically present, but mentally absent.
She wasn't here.
She's somewhere else.
He scoots over to her, closing the distance between them.
The warlord locks her in his embrace, his digits tangling within the locks of her hair as she sobbed in his arms.
She was trembling and Megatron feared that she would fall apart, breaking into tiny pieces like glass.
He didn't want to let go of her.
Afraid that she might disappear, slip away from his grasps and back to the hole she used to dwell in—into the reality where she was ruthlessly tortured.
"Why?" She sobbed, voice cracking. "Why? Why? Why? WHY?! WHY?! WHY?! "
Megatron's expression pinches with pain, pressing her against him when she lets out screams and wails of anguish.
All he could do was soothe her, crooning words of comfort into her ear as she lashed out, whimpering and crying harder. He knows that sound—he knows it too well—and it sends a shiver down his spine. It was spark wrenching, her cries echoing into the dead of the night.
Megatron could feel the despair racking her little form, rocking her back and forth in a gentle manner.
Who would have thought that such a tiny being could withhold copious amount ofanguish.
"I hate them. I hate them so much and I hope they'll be stuck in an infinite hell." Persephone sneered as she sobbed; whimpering when she clings to him tighter. "I fucking hate them."
He's quiet for a moment; thinking of something to tell her, the fire crackling as the embers flew up.
"It's alright," Megatron finally cooed at her. "They'll pay for what they've done in due time... we'll show them."
Whether she believed it or not, it didn't matter.
He continued to hold her crying, shaking body. Megatron understood her reaction. He now understood her actions.
Perhaps, the both of them weren't so different after all. It was the same concept—people in power abusing the weaker ones. A youngling will always look to the oldest for advice, yet those who were tasked to take care of her had hurt her instead.
"But I want to help you."
It dawned on him why she wanted to help him. Humans fear beings that pose a threat against them. And who do they fear? Cybertronians, specifically the Decepticons. Fear holds power over one's being, and perhaps that's why she allied herself to him.
For the purpose of fear.
To have control.
Megatron chose to lead a revolution for a better future for his people. Persephone, obvious from the way she reacted, had carried the burden and pain—suffering in silence; choosing to handle things in a peaceful manner.
They weren't so different, after all.
If they were the same, then it meant she had a darkness within her... just like him. Megatron was aware that he's a ruthless warlord, often causing bloodshed in his wake, and evoking fear within those who stand before him.
Megatron was weak before too.
He knew that, but he sought out how to strengthen himself until he became a suitable leader. The perfect Prime if he had been chosen.
Persephone was weak, but she wasn't pathetic.
Maybe that's also the reason she was so... docile. However that reason doesn't exactly make sense seeing as he could still see the sparks in her optics.
She could still fight.
However, judging from what she had told him— especially after finding out about her life—wanting nothing more but to rest, Megatron could conclude that she was tired. Humans are temperamental too. So he couldn't exactly fault her for her cries and whimpers; for the way she clings to him.
The weaker ones are easy to shape.
They need someone to nurture them.
To lead them.
Whether she admitted it or not, she depended on him. And he will look after her... because he knows what it's like to be on the short end of the stick.
When she finally cried herself to sleep, the warlord panicked since she just... slumped in his arms. When he laid her down, he was forced to lay beside her. Her limbs were limp, but they still wrapped around him.
For the next few hours Megatron lays there in silence, watching the stars, the fire burning and crackling, and then her.
Everything was quiet. Dark. Everything was silent, save for the noise coming from the bonfire he had created.
Megatron sighs, ignoring the clock within his H.U.D. He knew better than to look at the time; it's clearly past midnight, there aren't any news or things that required his immediate attention, and looking at the time will only let the frustration of being up at some godforsaken hour for the sole reason that the fleshling was clinging to him.
He wanted to recharge, but it was obvious that she needed comfort. Megatron didn't know why he was so compelled to make sure she was okay or why he had the urge to just lay beside her... Of course, he knew why.
Because in some way he empathized with her.
So, without anything better to do, he looks at Persephone.
She's nestled in a pile of pillows and blankets next to him, the droplets in her lashes reminded him of constellations in the sky; each having their own story.
He dries them gently, the little human moves to nuzzle closer to him, hiding her face in his chassis.
He smiles tiredly as he watches her. Primus... She looks adorable.
Megatron paused.
What in the Pits of Kaon was he thinking?! The mere thought itself had disturbed the warlord. He didn't know why, but he found himself rather not disgusted by her features.
If anything, hers were tolerable.
The Decepticon leader wasn't exactly fond of humans, nor did he care for any organics for the matter. They leak, they ooze, and they wail seemingly for no reason at all; their insignificance was simply taking up space that his dying race could fill in the universe.
It's simple, really.
Like a human disgusted by insects and pests alike, Megatron despised humanity as a whole—in general, really.
Megatron had wiped out entire planets, ran several organic species into extinction, and he didn't have any regrets. It was necessary to rid the universe of the organic beings who plagued the universe. He'd once believed that he had to attack first before his precious Cybertron was attacked.
And the idea was only egged on when his army rose into power.
When he'd caused millions of organics to decay with a simple order for destruction, he'd felt like he was a prophet.
He was going to be the salvation of cybertronians as they knew it, and with more and more blood staining his servos.
Megatron knew deep down that he was destined to be a Prime, after all; he possessed every quality that a leader could have, he cared for his people, and the future of Cybertron itself.
Despite being hunted down by the very insects that he looked down on, his views of them didn't change. They were a violent species, often believing that they have the upper hand. With some proper planning, Megatron could easily wipe out the entire race.
Then there was Persephone.
Persephone, small and soft, was by far the only organic that hadn't compelled him to turn her into mush of flesh and broken bones.
She was tolerable.
She was loud, loud enough to not be annoying and someone who was smart enough for him to talk with. Most humans needed more... clarification.
Her? She understood the little queues, the little gestures. Almost like she had experienced it before. To be fair, he was at a disadvantage seeing as she knew almost everything about him— and anyone—from where she originated.
Still, it was nice of her to watch for her actions.
Humans were small and frail beings, yet they were resilient and forgiving; but Persephone is small and frail... and unaffected by his actions. Unaffected by the fact that he would inevitably forsake her planet if it meant Cybertron could be revived again.
Megatron wished she would have been in a cage, instead. Locked away, screaming, and begging him to let her go. Begging for her life as she cried and screamed for help... because he would have understood her actions and it would provide some twisted entertainment for him, at least.
Persephone.
Here she lies beside him, asleep and dreaming away. She'd often chirp her little organic dermas that she wants to help him. To stay beside him.
And the feeling he felt when she addressed him in a certain manner or the way his spark would hum within its chamber when she smiled at him had frustrated the warlord, because he didn't know why he felt them.
A part of him wanted to crush her, to make her suffer for evoking strange viruses in his body that made him flustered whenever she looked at him with such... sincere fondness. The other wanted nothing more but to explore these things... wanting nothing more but to be beside her.
Letting her live had proved to be the best decision instead of immediately striking her where she stood when they first met properly.
It was likely one of the most selfish and selfless things he's done in a very long time.
Even so, Megatron allowed himself a moment of weakness as he held Persephone's body close, pressed against his chassis where his spark is, as he tried his best to protect her from the world that so desperately hurt her numerous times.
She's... so warm. He thought to himself as he indulged in the fuzzy feeling he was experiencing.
The sun had long since risen before he finally deactivated his holomatter avatar—before his body forced him into recharge.
End of Chapter IX
