Chapter 2

It has been awhile, hasn't it guys? Sorry about that. I got caught up with My Name is Spade, which you should check out if you haven't already!

Warnings: The warnings were in the last chapter. Still the same and will be for the entire story. And to clear things up, Ratchet and Optimus are NOT bondmates, okay? Just lovers for the time being.

Disclaimer: I only own the plot, nothing or no one else.

Megatron dragged Optimus down the hallway of the Decepticon base. He smiled evilly at the struggle. "You shouldn't try to fight it, Prime. It's useless. There is no escape for you and you are obviously too weak to break out of my grasp. What makes you think you could escape from hundreds of Decepticon guards blocking every possible escape?"

Optimus ignored the mech, but ceased his struggles. Unfortunately, Megatron was right. Saving his energy would be the only thing that he could do if he ever wanted to escape. However, with his injuries and his lack of rest, that would be very hard to do. On the way to the Fallen's throne room, they passed several cells. Most of them were empty, except for the occasional dead mech, dried energon stain, or Decepticons that stepped out of line.

Finally, they reached the throne room. Megatron took the red and blue mech and threw him in front of the Fallen's throne before bowing on one knee. "Fallen, my master. I have brought you the requested prisoner. Optimus Prime."

The Fallen began chuckling. "Mmm. He has a lot to learn about respect."

Optimus growled lowly in his throat. "I do have respect. Just none for the likes of you, Decepticon."

The Decepticon snarled and advanced on the Prime. Optimus didn't bat an optic or flinch, even as the Fallen grabbed his chin and forced him to look at his face. "You will learn respect, Autobot. Surely you know that I will not hesitate to bring harm to you."

Megatron watched from afar as his younger brother stared defiantly at his master. He laughed internally, knowing that with his behavior, more harm would come to him than required. The endless amount of torture would be his reward for it. And he would be there to watch every minute of it. To hear every scream, every wail, every plead. And while his master took his turn, Megatron would spend time plotting his own.

"What do you want from me?" the Prime asked.

The Fallen laughed. "What all of us Decepticons have wanted from you since the beginning of the war. Your surrender, Prime," he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "But, there is more behind it. My own reason, however… You see, when Megatron offlined you three groons ago, the Autobots were a mess. Surely, they would've lost the battle had it not been for that Witwicky insect. Your demise will lead to the demise of the Autobots, our own victory, and the universe will be ours for the taking."

The Autobot was silent. While he was offline, the Autobots didn't have another leader to fall back on. Prowl had only just landed on Earth a groon ago and Jazz was still offlined at the time of the battle. And yet, they all managed without him and most escaped with their lives, even killed most of the Decepticons. The slag that the Fallen was spewing off made him snarl in disgust.

"What makes you think that? They've managed without me before. With Prowl and Jazz alive and well, they will survive. You and Megatron are full of slag," he spat.

Then he was on his back. Snarls and growls sound from the room. A slap, he guessed, sent him flying back. The Fallen moved forward, gazing down at the downed Prime. "You would do well to hold your glossa when your masters are speaking."

Oh, how Optimus wanted to jump up and rip both of their sparks out. The words and treatment were degrading, of course. But he was no one's pet, slave, or anything of the sort. And no Decepticon would ever be his master. He would sooner commit suicide than serve any of these Pit spawns. His patience ran out when he first woke up to find himself in the cell. Just when he thought the Fallen was going to send him back to it, he continued to speak. If he didn't get to rip their sparks out, then he would at least go for their vocal processors.

"Megatron, perhaps you know what else would have kept the Autoscums from winning the battle. I can't seem to remember," he said, smirking evilly. Megatron grinned, exposing his fangs.

"My mistake, master! Eliminating their sources of repair would have certainly given us an edge! The medic should be the first to go next time!" he laughed. That almost completely set the Prime off. "And being that the lot of you are sentimental fools, it would have wounded you emotionally, as well. But not you, right Prime? As a Prime and a leader, you keep your emotions in check, do you not?" Megatron ridiculed. The two Decepticons chortled while Optimus remained silent, lost in his own dark thoughts. As soon as he got the opportunity to, he would kill them both. Slowly. The way they probably would. Torture. How dare they threaten Ratchet? His Ratchet?

Eventually, he would.

A knock sounded at his door. After giving him permission, in walked his red and blue mech. They hadn't bonded yet, but he was hoping they would soon. Hoping that he would be asked soon.

"Hello, Ratchet," the mech said. His gentle baritone soothed him. The medic looked up from one of his many datapads. He made optic contact with him before smiling.

"Orion," he said softly in greeting. It was no secret that the two were lovers, but they still didn't exhibit any intimate or romantic actions outside of their quarters or outside of privacy. Optimus walked towards the cluttered desk and smiled wryly.

"Isn't today your day off?" he asked, mirth in his voice. "You need to recharge more."

Ratchet snorted. "Says the mech, who I, on more than one occasion, have had to chase into their berth with a wrench?" The two laughed before Optimus reached out and brought Ratchet's helm in for a kiss. The kiss was gentle but held several emotions within it. When the larger mech pulled away, he sat his fore helm on Ratchet's own. Ratchet's optics remained closed as he sighed.

"I love you, Ratchet," he said. Ratchet smiled a small smile.

"I love you, too."

"Ratchet…"

"Hmm?"

"Ratchet!"

"Ratchet!" said a mech. Ratchet's helm flew off of the desk. He opened his optics and let them adjust for a minute. There, in front of his desk was First Aid. The mech was looking at him worriedly, optics looking of his tired, haggard form. "You fell into recharge again. I think you should take the rest of the day off. Primus knows that you already get a little bit of recharge on a daily basis. Ever since Prime's capture, it's only made things worse. I'm worried about you. We all are."

Ratchet sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm fine, First Aid."

His successor didn't look convinced. "You don't believe that any more than I do. I can handle Jazz and the twins."

"What makes you think that I can't?" Ratchet demanded. Being woken up from his brief recharge made him irritable. But being reminded of the capture of his lover angered him slightly.

"The fact that you fell into recharge while you were supposed to be monitoring them says a lot, Ratchet!" First Aid exclaimed. He sighed. "Listen, I know that you are more than capable of taking care of them, but it's been hard for you these last couple of days. I'm worried. We all are."

The older mech sighed again. "I appreciate your worry. I really do, but it's unnecessary."

First Aid remained silent before nodding. "Fine," he replied before turning and exiting the room. Ratchet frowned. Maybe he was a little too hard on the medic in training, but that's all he heard about from almost every mech, femme, and human on the base. A few kliks later, he returned with Prowl in tow. Ratchet looked startled for a moment.

"Ratchet, First Aid told me everything," he said. Ratchet glared at the SIC and his successor.

"You told on me, First Aid?" he asked.

"You may find it juvenile, Ratchet. But you left me no choice. You're going to end up working yourself to death!" he replied.

"So, he went to me. This isn't the first time someone on base came to me to report your condition. I am behooved to do something about it, being that until we find our leader, I am in charge. So, as the one in temporary command, you are on leave until further notice," Prowl said. Ratchet opened his mouth to protest, but the temporary CO cut him off. "First Aid is being trained by you. Ratchet, I, along with several others see you as the best medic that ever walked the face of Cybertron. I'm sure he's ready for this."

Ratchet was silent for a moment. "What am I supposed to do then, Prowl?" he finally asked. "All I ever do is work. And the one mech I spend time with is in the hands of the fragging Decepticons!" he roared. First Aid flinched and took a few steps back, but Prowl remained where he was, stoic as usual. He put a servo on Ratchet's shoulder.

"Take some time away from the base. You need it. And not only that, but I owe it to my commander to make sure that you are healthy while he's absent. We are not asking you anymore. And I expect you see you recharging tonight. No work," he replied sternly.

Ratchet shook his head and sighed, knowing he lost the battle. He rose from his seat and walked from behind the desk. First Aid nodded in satisfaction. He knew that it might be a while before Ratchet forgave him for that, but he was willing to wait. As Ratchet exited the Medbay, he passed Ironhide and Wheeljack, who were secretly listening in. Somehow, Ratchet didn't notice them and walked back to his quarters slowly.

"That went better than I thought," the black mech said. Prowl exited the Medbay, leaving First Aid to finish the duties that Ratchet started.

"It did. I'm surprised he didn't hit one of us in the helm with a wrench," Prowl replied.

"What do you think he might do?" Wheeljack asked. The three mechs turned to look at the chartreuse medic walking off.

"As long as it isn't work or suicide, I don't care," Ironhide said. The other two nodded in agreement.

So there it is! I know it's not much, but like I said. The story itself will be long.

Denali Prime out!