Warning: Non-Con


His head pounding, Jack winced as he uncurled, looking around blearily. He squinted when he looked at the couch, finding the two mechs lying there. Jack looked away, and turned on the television, keeping the volume low as he checked the news.

"Good morning, Cybertron." The cheery femme newscaster said, but her voice hurt his still aching head. "We bring you this top story; in an outcry of public rallying, the suspect known as Megatron has been released."

'Well, that plan of theirs worked better than they thought.' Jack thought, glowering as he turned off the television. Seriously, who knew the public hated such unjust abuse of power. How long had they been asleep that turn-around was so quick?

"So, you thinking of going to congratulate him?"

Jack paused, looking over as Knock Out peered at him through drowsy optics. "Sorry about that."

"You might be mad, but you still wanted to see if he was okay." The red mech shrugged, though made sure it was the shoulder not leaning into Breakdown.

"He's still my friend." 'I think.' Came the unbidden thought, Jack's expression glum and slightly pained.

"You want to go see him anyway?" Knock Out questioned.

Jack was silent for a moment. "Not yet," he said finally, "but when my hangover passes, maybe."

"Shouldn't have drank so much last night." Knock Out stated, the medic in him chiding the smaller mech. A chuckle escaped him as Jack groaned, shaking his head.

"My head hurts." he moaned.

"Well, you shouldn't have." Knock Out repeated. "And you began talking about...him." he said meaningfully. Jack stared at him. "Don't worry, I covered for you, made it seem like just a bad break-up."

Jack grimaced, his expression scrunching. "That's one way of saying it; still makes my plating crawl just like those bots at the conference thinking I was his fragging date, as if being mistaken for a pleasure bot all the time isn't bad enough."

"I can only imagine." There was some sympathy in Knock Out's expression, softening the anger that Jack currently felt in his spark. "Who knows though? Maybe you'll find someone of your own to help you move through the trauma."

Because that's what it was; trauma. Knock Out could see it plainly in how Jack acted and reacted. Fear of touch, jealousy of couples, the shame he felt...

Jack closed his optics as he looked at the ground. He didn't know if he'd even want a relationship, but...it would be nice to stop being so scared. To overcome the emotional and mental scarring of what Shockwave put him through. "Someday." Jack said. It was some vague, unsure prediction, but it gave him hope that not only could he help change Cybertron, he could move past this too.

"Do you still plan to go to the arena today?" Knock Out changed the subject, taking Jack's mind off the topic.

"Yes." Jack said firmly. "Even if he's pushing it, I want to know if Megatron's stunt at least could have generated interest in those willing to throw in with the cause to change things."

"We can go this evening." Knock Out replied. "I have a shift today, and you should probably go face Megatron sober, unless you want to come across as clingy like you did before."

Jack groaned, leaning back in his seat as he rubbed his brow. "Probably a good idea."

"It's settled then. I don't know when Breakdown will wake up, but when he does, tell him I had to go to work and make himself at home if he wants. I trust you two can get along?"

"So long as he's willing to play nice, I'm sure we can get along just fine." Jack replied.

Knock Out huffed. "Don't get any ideas-I'm the only one Breakdown gets to play with." he said with a smirk.

Jack rolled his optics. "I'm sure." he said wryly. "Don't worry; your apartment will still be in one piece when you get back."

"As it should be- clean up after your messes too. I can't stand a dirty apartment." Knock Out insisted with a raised brow, as though suggesting that Jack was a slob.

Jack huffed, turning his chin up as Knock Out chuckled before he left the apartment, door closing shut behind him. Jack looked around, his head pounding, but his tank demanded he drink something to refuel. The small mech moved onto the 'kitchen' area as it were, and rummaged through the cabinet for the energon. He heard the chuffing in the other room, and peered around the doorway to see Breakdown shaking his head as he woke up. "Hey, you want some energon?"

"Uh, sure," Breakdown said, and furrowed his brow, "where's Knock Out?"

"He went to work, had a shift." Jack answered as he grabbed two cubes.

"Oh." The bigger mech looked disappointed, and Jack couldn't help teasing him as he handed him his energon.

"What? I'm not good company?" he asked as he sat back on the chair. "I thought you cared?" he placed his servo on his chest dramatically.

The other mech glowered at him a little, though it lacked any real heat to it. "Not as good as Knock Out." Breakdown said lowly. "Anyway, you staying here all day?"

Jack nodded. "Gotta get over my hangover before I go out." he replied and shrugged. "Though Knock Out said you could stick around." he waved to the remote. "You can watch what you want, I'm just going to be sleeping my hangover off."

"Maybe you shouldn't have drank so much." Breakdown retorted.

Jack chuffed, taking a sip of the regular energon. His head still pounded. "I know, believe me, but there are just some things nothing but Engex can obliterate the memories of."

"Right, Knock Out said something about a bad break-up." Breakdown said.

Jack glowered into his cube. "Yes, that."

"There are still better ways of handling it though." There was a pause as Breakdown took a sip of his energon, fixing him with a look. "Maybe you could pick up a hobby or something."

Jack hummed. That was a thought, just to help distract him from things he didn't want to think about. 'Although, if I find a hobby I'm not only good at, but can keep me useful enough in Megatron's optics, then maybe this is worth a shot.' he thought, but what kind of hobby would help him?

Jack knew he wasn't cut out for medical work, and using his healing out in the open could bring unwanted attention. He couldn't beat Soundwave in the spying and information gathering. Jack slumped in his seat. "It's an idea, but nothing really comes to mind."

"Have you looked?" The mech persisted and Jack couldn't help but wonder why.

'Kinda hard to look while I'm on the run.' Jack thought, but very well couldn't use that answer. "Settling in has been...difficult. I don't know the city very well, and I wouldn't know where to go to find any sort of hobby. I know Knock Out has his racing, but I don't think that would suit me well; I don't exactly have the right alt for something strenuous like that."

"Oh." Breakdown shrugged, sitting back on the couch to relax. Jack joined him on the other side, feeling the tiniest bit awkward to be alone in the apartment with the much bigger bot.

Sitting here calmly was a stark contrast to what little he knew of the future Breakdown. Then again, it was likely just under the surface, given the irritation and anger which Jack had seen. It left him at a loss of what to say next. "So...you work in construction?" Jack asked cautiously, wondering how much it would take to anger the mech and hoped he wouldn't find out.

"Yes, we repair roads, buildings, anything that needs fixing." Breakdown replied.

"I see." Jack said a bit awkwardly. "Knock Out was, er, explaining to me the caste system since my knowledge is…sparse, how...frames can determine which one is assigned," he took a gulp from his cube, hoping to calm his nerves, "so are all construction caste bots, er, a similar built like you?" And there was no other way that could have been more awkward to say if he tried.

"As a general rule, yeah." Was his answer, Breakdown taking another sip of his energon. "It can vary a little here and there, but we're always supposed to have strong, stocky bodies that can handle significant weight."

"I see." Jack said, nodding in understanding. "It would make sense to have bots that could carry heavy equipment and move supplies around."

"What about you?" Breakdown asked in return. "You were in the high caste, right? I've heard they have more freedom than those in the middle or low. What were your creators polishing you for?"

Jack froze, his optics wide like a deer in the headlights. Even his headache took a backseat to the uncertainty and terror that one question brought. 'Oh frag, I don't even know what else there is.' he thought, and decided he should try and play it safer with what he knew. "They...er, they were trying to get me to follow in my sire's career; to be a scientist."

"But that's not what you wanted?" Breakdown asked, remembering what Knock Out had said from last night.

Jack vented, knowing this wasn't going to be an easy answer to give, just because he was so 'out of sorts' with how the system worked. "No, I've...honestly had enough of science to last light years." he replied, relieved that light years here still translated to 'a long sense of time'.

"Then what do you want to do?"

"To be honest, I've never really thought about it." Jack answered, more than a little bitter with himself. "I've always done what I was told, and even when I want to be different, I can't figure out what kind of different I want to be." he said morosely, slumping against the couch as he sullenly drank from his cube.

"Hm. Wish I had that kind of freedom." Came the low mumble from Breakdown, sounding a little conflicted.

Jack winced, because he knew that not everyone could sit here and say 'I'm flighty because I have options.' "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound so...selfish and insensitive."

"It's what Megatron is fighting for right?" Breakdown steamrolled over his words, looking back at the television. "Freedom and equality of the masses?"

Jack stared at him, but vented as he nodded. "Yeah, it is."

"How'd you get involved with him, anyway?

"It's, uh...a long story." Standing up, Jack went to place his cube back into the 'kitchen'. Storage area. Whatever they called it here on Cybertron. "Let's just say...he saved me when I went to a gladiator match, and then he couldn't get rid of me after." Jack said, which was a rather overly simplistic way of explaining things, but it was a little white lie given the truth would royally screw him over.

"So like rust in his undercarriage?" A smirk worked its way onto Breakdown's face, with Jack huffing at what he perceived was a bit of an insult.

"I have helped him a time or two." Jack retorted and crossed his arms.

"With what?"

Jack shrugged. "Just this and that." he answered vaguely. "And things are a bit...complicated right now with me and him, so can we please move on to something else?"

"You enjoy racing?" That was thrown so out of the blue that Jack raised an incredulous brow.

"You're with Knock Out- I'd be pretty surprised if you didn't."

"Well, might not have been fast enough to keep up with racers, but I still liked watching them." Breakdown said, and stiffened as he seemed to grow flustered. "I meant watching the races, which, ah, also meant looking at the racers, but-"

Jack tilted his head as he decided to keep the mech from embarrassing himself. "I get it." he said swiftly. "And yeah, I like racing; not any good at it, but..." he shrugged.

"Me either. Too slow. I'm a pretty steady driver though."

"Nothing wrong with that." Jack said. "I almost crashed while practicing driving, and I can't imagine the damage I could cause unintentionally on the actual track."

Breakdown snorted, finding the thought amusing. "Knock Out wouldn't appreciate it, that's for sure."

Jack nodded, smiling slightly. "Which is why whatever I want to do, it has to keep me far off the track."

"You'll find something to do for yourself eventually." Breakdown hummed.

Jack hoped this was the beginnings of a small friendship forming between them. Jack relaxed as he realized how much he missed having a regular conversation with someone. Even if that someone was Breakdown. It was...nice.


There was no word from the police yet about J-23, his slave still on the loose and likely hiding in the city somewhere. Shockwave would suspect the obvious of J-23 going back to that mech, but nothing had been said of his slave being spotted there. Shockwave spent much of his time working through the bursts of anger that sometimes made itself known at inconvenient times since J-23 escaped, and the visit from that data clerk did not help his burgeoning fury.

J-23 would be severely punished once Shockwave got his servos on the oily little mech. It infuriated him that he had been outwitted by a mere slave. In his own home no less.

It still burned to have been tricked and deceived as J-23 likely plotted his escape. That his slave used Shockwave's illogical attraction to lull him into complacency, and broke free at the most unexpected time he had.

And while he was not one for idle gossip, even delivered by the media, Shockwave could not deny feeling a satisfaction that a 'Megatron' had been detained for suspicion of dissention. He remembered that mech very well. Only to then have that satisfaction turn into acidic rage as 'Megatron' was released as the public had an outcry, unrest coursing through the masses as a supposed video was released upon his detainment.

At first, Shockwave resolved not to watch it, just to continue his work as he always had. Though he found himself curious despite himself, just to see what kind of manipulation that mech had done to get such a quick release. He set aside his work, and brought up the video on his computer, the feed unsurprisingly already on the DataNet, and as such it was easy to find a copy.

Shockwave watched the feed impassively, despite his optic narrowing at the sight of Megatron before the Elite Guard came into the room. His optic narrowed further, this time with the stirrings of suspicion when he heard the voice of the small black, silver and white mech defending that mech, and it narrowed into a pinpoint as he most definitely recognized Knock Out's voice on the feed.

Shockwave paused the video, then rewound it to where he heard the first voice, seeing the unknown mech and Knock Out close together as the Elite guard rammed through the door and into the room. His gaze zoomed in on the figures, the gears in his processor working fast.

Shockwave stared at the unknown mech, his optic cycling as he studied the bot. Small and lithe, with wide, terrified blue optics. There was kibble of an alt, but Shockwave's suspicion grew the more he stared at that face. It was the same, fearful look J-23 would give him. Shockwave let the video continue playing, listening to the inflection of the unknown mech's voice as he began to recognize the tone and shifts of it despite being played through a recording.

Perhaps the strongest evidence to convince him this was his slave - was when the head guard grabbed the little mech's arm, and Megatron grabbed him as well, keeping him from being taken away as he gave himself up.

There was no doubt left in his mind- it was him. And he was with Knock Out.

Had Knock Out been in on J-23's plan to escape? Was that why his slave was so eager to see him? His chest tightened; optic cycled to a glowing pinpoint. Knock Out was in contact with Megatron, and so was J-23; the longer Megatron was released, there was a chance his slave would eventually find himself going to him again. Shockwave would need to be sure though, and to do that he would have to pay Knock Out a home visit, and see if his slave had already been taken to Megatron. If he had, Shockwave would come up with a plan to retrieve him, but if not -Shockwave was not going to let his slave slip through his servo again.

Shockwave discarded all the research he was currently working on in favor of resolving this issue now. There would be no more waiting, no more anticipating a call from the incompetent police that they had captured his runaway slave.

He would drag his slave from Knock Out's apartment if he had to, punish him so thoroughly for all his treachery that J-23 would never think of escape again, and claim him as he should have done the night before his slave escaped. Shockwave marched through the hall, taking the elevator to the ground floor as he brought up Knock Out's information, specifically his address. It was an apartment, and not very far-good, there would be less of a chance for his slave to have left yet.

He stepped into his vehicle, and drove off. There would be no escape this time for J-23. Shockwave would make sure of that.

Shockwave likely broke the speed limit in getting to Knock Out's address, but at the moment he really didn't care. The longer his slave remained free, the more of a chance he'd have to get back to Megatron, and there was no doubt the silver mech would learn from his mistake and keep J-23 out of Shockwave's clutches as he'd been unable to do so before.

It felt like joors had passed in the time it took Shockwave to reach Knock Out's domicile, when in reality he knew it could have only have been a few breems. He moved hastily, ignoring the looks that he was being given as he made his way up the elevator.

Once on Knock Out's floor, Shockwave looked through the numbers on the doors. He was more than capable of blasting his way through if the red mech resisted, but that would attract undue attention before he had a chance know J-23's location. It was what made him warm his cannon to stand-by, but once he reached Knock Out's door, he rapped on the metal, alerting whoever was inside he was here.

"Hold on a klick." A voice he didn't recognize answered, and footsteps echoed from inside the room until the door was pried open. A blue mech with an orange face stared out at him, optic ridges furrowed. "What is it?"

Shockwave stared at him, then at the number on the door, but it matched the address. His optic narrowed when he finally realized he did know this mech. "You are Breakdown," he said drolly, "from the construction caste."

Breakdown's optics widened, and Shockwave heard a little gasp, just a quick intake, but he recognized it all the same. "S-Shockwave, sir?" he questioned. "W-what are you doing here?"

"To speak with Knock Out." Shockwave replied, and pushed the blue mech out of his way as he forced his way into the apartment.

Sitting in the living area was Knock Out, and behind him an obscured little mech. The medic moved forward to confront him. "Can I help you?" The red mech asked impudently. "If you needed a buff and polish, you could have made an appointment. Not many clients bust down my door."

"And not many would be accomplices to thievery." Shockwave retorted. Knock Out stiffened just a bit.

"I stole nothing of yours." he replied fiercely. "So unless you have actual business here, I suggest you get out of my apartment."

"Not without J-23." Shockwave said, his optic locked on the little mech Knock Out had attempted to block his view of.

"Your bot isn't here, sir." Knock Out stated icily. "I suggest you look elsewhere, as the police no doubt are."

"They have yet to yield any results." Shockwave said. "I though am much more perceptive. That bot behind you-"

"Isn't him." Knock Out retorted. "He looks nothing like your bot!"

Shockwave stared at the medic for a moment, but quicker than anyone expected, he used his cannon to shove Knock Out away, and his hand lashed out to grab the small mech by the neck, dragging him in as J-23 struggled in his grasp, blue optics wide with terror. The bot choked in his grip, digits trying to pry to the servos away from his throat, kicking and crying out for help as Shockwave attempted to drag him out of the apartment.

Breakdown had helped Knock Out back up, but red mech shoved him to follow after Shockwave. "Don't-don't let him take him." The red mech said, wincing.

The blue mech was unsure of what was going on, but he did run into the hall as Shockwave dragged the mech to elevator. The little mech's optics locked on him, pleading as he still was unable to get a word out. "You can't just-"

"I can do, whatever it is I want." Shockwave cut him off tersely, and raised his charging cannon at him, the other servo still holding the mech as he brought down the elevator. "He's my property, and you will do well to not interfere." he said coldly, cannon still trained on him, even as he backed into the elevator. As a warning, Shockwave fired when Breakdown still tried to march forward. It hit him in the shoulder, and J-23 made a strangled noise.

When the elevator door closed, Shockwave finally turned his attention back to the little mech, shifting his servo to trace his thumb along his cheek. Shockwave found it gratifying when the mech flinched. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you've caused, J-23?"

"T-that's not my name!" J-23 shouted angrily through the choke hold, and managed to strike him on the shoulder.

Shockwave's optic became a hellish red, the lens glowing intensely. "You've grown insolent since your escape. It will not due for you to cause a scene outside." He said, his voice dangerously low, registering to even his unruly slave who tensed up. "I had planned to punish you within my home, but it seems I must make an example now."

His slave stared at him, optics widening again as he frantically shook his head. "No-nonono!" he struggled, clawing at his shoulders to shove him away, but Shockwave pressed against his slave, forcing J-23 against the wall, his smaller body trapped against his. Shockwave grabbed his slave's flailing arms, and pinned them above J-23's head, before he pulled.

The scream his slave let out nearly short-circuited Shockwave's audios, but underneath he heard the crrk of the cables being stretched and broken. His slave's arms went flat, all circuits in the two limbs useless for now, and he kept J-23's arms stretched to prevent them from healing and giving him a chance to fight back. His slave made the most pathetic whimpering sounds, sobs wretched from his throat, and it made his chest tight and spark heat.

"You will learn that I am not a mech to scorn." Shockwave said over the crying, coolant slipping from the little mech's optics as he pressed harder against the small body.

"S-Shockwa-ahhh!" J-23 screeched as the purple mech pulled his arms higher, cutting him off.

Shockwave felt a secret thrill to hear his name pass through those lips, but he would not be soft when the slave needed to learn his place. "After taking you out of the mines, sheltering you in my own home, you think you can leave me and not suffer the repercussions for it?"

His slave only sobbed, as though his tears would soften his spark. Shockwave was not moved though, and would never be; not by tears or...He stared at his slave's weakly struggling form. The alt mode fit him perfectly, and he was loathed to admit the colors heightened his enticing frame even further.

Shockwave let his body press against the writhing mech, optic dimming as he imagined taking him, thrusting into that tight, slick valve. His grip tightened on the slave's wrists, pulling him up enough so their panels touched.

J-23 shook his head as he no doubt felt the heat of his panel through his own. "No, no," Tears streamed down his cheeks even more freely, optics wide and pleading, "p-please-"

Shockwave placed the barrel of his cannon against the mech's arms, holding him up against the wall as he released his arms just long enough to rip the panel off J-23, wasting no time in being 'gentle'. A scream tore from the mech's vocalizer, rattling his audio receptors as he used his now free servo to grip J-23 tightly by the hip.

Shockwave grounded his panel against his slave's exposed area, the little mech trying to uselessly pull away even with nowhere to go. He was so completely at Shockwave's mercy. Energon stained his own panel, but J-23's healing made quick work of that.

Shifting his servo, Shockwave slipped it behind his slave's back to force him into arching, bringing them chest to chest. "Had you not defied me, I would have been gentler with you."

"H-hate you!" J-23 screamed in his 'face' through his tears, the sentence as broken as he was. "S-stop-!" He pleaded uselessly, the begging only enticing him to go further.

Shockwave rumbled deep in his chest as he released his spike, the click of the panel making J-23 freeze, but he sobbed even harder when he could no doubt feel the pressurized shaft rub against his valve. Shockwave kept himself from sinking in, just long enough to shift his slave to have a better angle. He felt through the trembling of his slave's entire form, pressed tight against him.

"No...nononono!" He heard J-23 muttered in a mantra as Shockwave slipped in just passed the mesh of the rim.

Shockwave ignored the begging, focusing on how tight the valve was. He could not slam into it without harming himself, as the dry port's friction would cause him pain as well. So he would have to stimulate the valve.

"Stop, stop!" J-23 pleaded, his frame twitching with each slow, drawn out rub the tip of the spike gave the rim of his valve.

Shockwave ignored him, focusing on his own indulgence as he felt the unwilling valve begin to quiver. He grounded the tip of his spike against the node, and rumbled deeply as J-23's begging hitched, his frame tensing. Lubricant trickled against his spike, and when enough had been roused to provide sufficient coating, Shockwave pulled his slave even closer, and took what only he would ever have in one thrust.

J-23's scream likely rang through the whole building.