Bit shorter chapter this time, but hey! It's a lot sooner than anticipated (on my end)! My sincerest gratitude for all of the lovely reviews, all feedback is appreciated! Enjoy.
The ex-Con waited. And waited. And then waited some more. The large green Wrecker's footsteps had halted a few paces from him, yet not further violence was forthcoming. Yet, he reminded himself. Bulkhead was not known for his patience. Perhaps he was merely savoring the moment, trying to decide which part of Switchshade he wanted to destroy first. The black mech didn't move out of his defensive position.
"Wait!" the sharp, loud cry startled him, and he flinched involuntarily before peeking out from behind his arms to stare incredulously at the little human, who had run to stand between the two Cybertronians. Switchshade looked up at Bulkhead's faceplates, wondering if the Wrecker would show his rage at having his fun interrupted, and cycled his optics in surprise when he saw that the green mech's faceplates looked… horrified? Why? I have done no damage to the human. Why does he look so… shocked? Is it repulsion? I cower like a sparkling, but I dare not attempt to engage in battle with him, that would do nothing but gravely harm any scrap of a chance I might have to convince them to let me stay.
The human was talking, fast and clear words spilling from her lips, but Switchshade was distracted when Bulkhead moved closer again. He dropped his gaze to the smooth metal floor of his cell and held very still, only to be surprised once again when a hand far, far too small to be that of any Cybertronian landed on his servo. "Hey, take it easy, 'Shade. Bulk… he ain't gonna smash you." Switchshade blinked down at the tiny human, and then looked up at the Wrecker again. "Come on, Miko… Let's just… Let's go."
The black mech watched in disbelief as the human patted his servo a few more times and then ran over to her guardian, who cast him one last, confused glance before leaving his cell. The door closed surprisingly gently behind the green Wrecker, and Switchshade's audials could pick up Bulkhead quietly asking Miko what had happened as they moved away down the hallway. What in the name of Primus was that?!
Switchshade idly stretched, then rose to his pedes several joors later. The Wrecker had not returned, and there had been no further sign of life from the Autobots since Bulkhead and his pet's departure. The dark mech tried to scan the base for signs of life-forms, either organic or Cybertronian, but he found his sensors blocked, even as his weapons and communications systems were. His engine rumbled once in discontent before he settled, scowling at the blank gray door, and then he peered through the bars.
From what his audials could pick up, the scout, Bulkhead, and the femme had each taken their respective pets out of the base for unknown recreational activities. Cliffjumper had accompanied Arcee and her pet, and had seemed quite content to race them out of the base, if the taunts Switchshade could hear as they departed were any indication. The Prime's whereabouts were unknown, but images of the powerful Autobot in full battle fury were enough to make the 'Con quite content with the Prime anywhere but where Switchshade was. The Hatchet, however, had not left the base, if his quiet mutterings coming from down the hallway several paces were any indication.
Switchshade realized he should be grateful for the reprieve, thankful that the Autobots had left off torturing him for information and had left him entirely unscathed, but he felt… odd. On the Nemesis, there was essentially no such thing as being alone. Soundwave had optics and audials everywhere, and Laserbeak was a near constant presence with Switchshade when Soundwave himself was otherwise occupied. The silence didn't get to the black mech nearly as much as the lack of anything useful to do; and the sensation of being… alone. Even though he knew he was likely under surveillance, the semblance of privacy felt strange.
Half a cycle later, another problem presented itself. Switchshade's repair systems had done an efficient job at repairing the damage done in the fall from the Nemesis and the fight that had followed, but he had not refueled in some time before the incident with Cliffjumper had ever happened, and now a great deal of his frame's energon had gone into repairing him, his levels were dangerously low. He rose to his pedes again and paced for several joors longer, before peering out his window again, wondering if the Autobot medic would care about their prisoner's state of being.
Truthfully, Switchshade knew that the best he could hope for was indifference-it was much more likely that the medic would become angry with his undeserved demands and assign an appropriate penalty to the prisoner. Still… as another warning popped up on his HUD, this time blaring red instead of warning yellow, the ex-'Con knew he had little choice. At least this way, if he collapsed from lack of energon, the Autobots would know what happened.
"Sir… Ratchet? I… I realize that it's probably not my place, but I wished-to ask you… Pit. Never mind. I'm so sorry."
He flinched away from the door, moving back to the back of his cell again, hoping beyond hope that his tentative words had not reached the medic. Too little, too late, he realized fearfully, as the sound of pacing pedesteps from the common room paused and then began to approach his cell.
Fool! Why didn't you leave well enough alone? Have you learned nothing? Keep your vocalizer shut and your head down if you want to survive! You're a prisoner! Not some guest! Now you will be at Ratchet's mercy, and it could have been avoided if you'd only dealt with such a minor issue! He berated himself even as he cowered back against the far wall, the medic's warm blue optics peering through the bars curiously as he keyed the door open.
"Switchshade? What is it?" Ratchet's usually gruff voice was uncommonly gentle as he moved into the cell, and Switchshade locked his knee joints to keep them from rattling.
"N-Nothing, Sir-Ratchet! Ratchet. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to- I didn't… I meant no disrespect. I apologize for wasting your time in such a fashion, I should not have spoken without being prompted, I forgot myself, I beg your forgiveness."
He bowed his helm in respect, praying Primus (though why should Primus favor him? The Matrix that rested in Optimus Prime's chassis should clearly state where the deity's favor rested) that Ratchet would return to his work and leave the prisoner alone in his cell despite his presumption.
Ratchet paused in his pacing when he heard a tentative call from the Deception in the holding cell, pulling his processor from his increasingly dark thoughts of what, exactly, Megatron could do with the blood of Unicron at his command. He furrowed his brow in confusion at the hesitance and borderline fear in the dark mech's voice, and hurried to see what had prompted the 'Con to speak up.
Arriving at the entrance of the door, the medic paused in surprise at the terror he could teek in the prisoner's field, and he risked a glance inside as he entered the code to open the door. Deliberately softening his voice to one he had used frequently in the war at the side of gravely wounded mechs he was performing emergency field procedures on as he asked, "Switchshade? What is it?"
He moved slowly into the cell, keeping his servos open and nonthreatening, and frowned at the black mech's trembling reply.
"…Kid…" The medic heaved another sigh. "Look, I won't come any closer, alright? Just-try to calm down. I can practically hear your spark racing from here. I told you I wasn't going to hurt you, and that wasn't a lie." The 'Con looked up, dark red optics wary, but he made a clear effort to calm himself as he managed to stop his plating from rattling. Much.
Ratchet watched him for a moment more, noting the quick, hesitant glances as the younger mech clearly made an attempt to avoid direct eye contact without being terribly unsubtle. The medic raised an eyebrow, then simply sent a full-frame scan over the prisoner to see if whatever had prompted Switchshade to speak had been a physiological issue. His findings had him exclaiming in shock, "By the Allspark! When did you last refuel?!"