A/N: This chapter is short because I really just wanted to have Blaster and Soundwave talking. There is a bit at the end with Prowl and Jazz though, just for a bit of fluff. Hope you like it. The next one is a bit more light-hearted. You all know I don't own Transformers, as they belong to Hasbro.
WARNING: Brief sexual abuse. Like, you might want to skip the part where it goes: Settling them on his lap facing each other to the part where it gets out of italics. There is no penetration, but to be safe I'm warning. Please, consider yourself warned.
Turning Point – Chapter 10
He was running again. He always seemed to be running in his recharge dreams now. Sometimes he just kept running and nothing else happened.
This was not going to be one of those dreams.
There was a door.
He opened it.
Megatron was sitting on his throne, and all he could see of him was red optics and a menacing smile.
"Soundwave…so nice of you to join me."
The telepath growled, and prepared for a devastating mental attack, when his ex-leader snarled and the lights flooded the room they were in.
Soundwave stopped cold.
In Megatron's clenched fist lay the ends of six chains. Each chain led to a collar. And there were six collars, all tied around each of his creation's neck as they lay on the floor by the throne. Laserbeak and Buzzsaw served as footrests for the warlord, while the others lay around with hopeless, glazed optics.
Horror filled him as he gazed upon his creations. Buzzsaw gave a miserable caw and received a heavy press to his back under the bulky pede.
"How dare you!" hissed Soundwave, stepping forward to fight, but becoming frozen in place, like his legs had become encased in a thick, unmovable substance.
"No, my traitorous telepath. How dare you to try and use your telepathy on me. I. Am. MEGATRON! You pathetic piece of scrap. I warned you your little pests would pay the price, and now they are, all thanks to you," replied the gunformer, chuckling darkly.
"NO!" Soundwave cried out, anguished, and struggled, but couldn't move.
Dread filled him. It was his fault. Megatron was right, and he could do nothing but watch on, coolant tears pooling at the corners as his optics.
Jerking two of the chains, Megatron hauled up the twins, who dangled, limp, by their necks. Settling them on his lap facing each other, he hit them over the back of their helms and cooed in a sickening voice, "Time to obey, pets. Time to prepare your master."
Smirking at the dark blue telepath, the Decepticon leader opened his interface panel, letting his spike rise in between Rumble and Frenzy's faces. They gazed dully at it, unmoving. Soundwave wailed, garnering an irritated look from Megatron, who then brutally smashed the front of the twins helms together. They seemed to wake up slightly and leaned forward to lick at the head of the spike. They seemed to be either hypnotised or their spirits so broken that they obeyed. Behind his visor, Soundwave cried for his cassettes. His fault. All his fault.
Megatron looked at the two little bots trying to service him, both dutifully licking up and down his spike. But he wanted more. He wanted a valve wrapped around him, and he knew which one he wanted to break.
Tugging on another chain, the grey mech brought Ratbat up, who had a metal plate fixed over his mouth and who's optics were wide with fear.
Soundwave finally lost his energon and purged, the sound of it splattering on the tiles of the floor echoing.
Megatron laughed, "Just remember this is all your fault, Soundwave. And because of that, I'm going to take your youngest creations seals!"
"NO!"
"NOOOO!"
"Wave! Wave, please, wake up!"
Optics coming online with a fierce crackle, voice hoarse from yelling, Soundwave leapt up, half-delirious and shaking, and whispered, "My cassettes?"
Blaster placed his hands in front of him and pointed down to the berth.
There, optics wide, were his cassettes, looking up at him in concern.
Soundwave still shook but heaved a sigh of relief. They were here and undamaged. They were safe. Kneeling down, he hugged each individually, and they didn't question it. They knew that he was feeling ashamed and vulnerable right now. They felt the wetness on his cheeks and knew he had sobbed in his sleep.
"Bad flux?" Blaster asked kindly.
"Like you wouldn't believe," Soundwave replied hoarsely. With regret, he used his telepathy to lull his cassettes back into recharge. He knew he should talk about it, but that would mean leaving his cassettes alone in order for he to talk with his friend privately.
"I'll call Steelie in here if you're worried."
"It would be welcome," replied the telepath in relief.
Not a moment later Steeljaw sauntered in, taking his post at the foot of the berth, nodding to his creator.
"C'mon, 'Wave. He's been having trouble rechargin' and he don't mind watching over your guys," said Blaster, moving towards his empty room. His cassettes had decided to recharge on the couch. They alternated between his berth and the couch. They said the couch was better, but he disagreed.
Soundwave follow, trying hard to control his trembling. He felt 'dirty' once more, and shame washed over him. Even in his dreams he couldn't stop Megatron from hurting his creations.
He entered Blaster's room and sat on the berth next to where Blaster had made himself comfortable and was laying down. His optics were filled with kindness and patience. The combination, once more, put the telepath at ease.
"Can you tell me what it was about?" Blaster asked quietly, taking the other mechs hand for support.
He hesitated for naught but a moment before blurting out the flux, not able to look at the other mech as he told him about it. He didn't want to see the shock and disgust in his optics that would surely come. He didn't want to see pity. He just wanted to…well, he didn't really know what he wanted to do. All he knew is that emotions were roaring and clashing inside of him in one big mess. He was sure he was crying again.
Feeling a thumb reach over and wipe off the coolant tears told him he'd been right.
And still, Soundwave didn't look at Blaster.
"Wave?"
Soundwave gritted his teeth. He did not want to look, he did not...
He turned and looked at Blaster.
Those honest optics were expressing all of the emotions he had thought he would see, and he lowered his helm in shame.
"Soundwave, look at me," pleaded the boom box entreatingly.
Soundwave did, finding that Blaster had slid closer to him.
"Megatron is trying to scare you. Heck, I'd be scared for my creations lives too. But keep in mind that it'd take a lot of planning and time for Megatron to get in here undetected. Remember he got really slagged by Skyfire today…oh, I mean yesterday, it's 1am. Anyway," continued Blaster, squeezing Soundwave's hand in comfort, "I'm not shocked at you. Or disgusted. It's understandable that you'd be having a flux like this, because I know you're scared for you creations. You told me his threat. I know you fear it. I'm disgusted at him."
"I'm not strong enough to protect them," whispered Soundwave sorrowfully.
With a sigh, Blaster moved his hands to cup Soundwave's face and turn him so they were optic to optic. "Listen to me. You have protected them for all these years. You've gone up against bigger or more sly bots than Megatron and they're fine. You've trained them so well."
Although he still feared at that moment, something shot through Soundwave at the tender actions. The same thing that had pulsed in his spark that night a few nights ago when he had come into Blaster's berthroom…when the moonlight had shone across his face.
Biting his lower lip, Soundwave then mumbled, "Do you think this…violation is my punishment?"
Frowning in confusion, the red and yellow mech asked, "What do you mean by that?"
Wishing he could turn away from those honest, searching optics, Soundwave replied, "Do you think that…this…my violation, is a punishment? For all of the murders I helped to orchestrate as a Decepticon, for all the mechs I killed, for the few I tortured? Do…you think it's a 'just desserts' of some kind?"
A brief flicker of grief flickered over blue optics before Blaster caressed his thumbs over the navy mech's cheekarches. He said fiercely, "No. Never think that. Never. It's not right. Primus would never give such a punishment. No mech should ever…ever have to go what you've gone through. Rape is a wrong thing in many planets and cultures. It should never be used as punishment for what you've done in the past. I know deep inside there's still the same Soundwave that I met millennia ago and shared an apartment with, who I worked with, and I know he's right here in front of me. Never be ashamed of yourself."
His spark felt lighter at the words and he leaned into Blaster's touch, wordlessly asking for more comfort.
Smiling softly, Blaster gathered his friend in his arms, laying the other's helm over his chestplates and rocking from side to side, humming. It never failed to relax his cassettes when they had their own problems.
Soundwave heard Blaster's sparkbeat and fuel pump thudding softly inside his chestplates. The rhythm was so very soothing. This, accompanied by the warmth of the body and arms around him, and the light humming, did serve to relax him. Blaster was here for him, taking away his fears. It felt so right to be so…himself. After years of putting on his mask for the world, he felt so real, not fake, in these simple moments.
"Are you sure?" Soundwave couldn't help but ask.
"Absolutely," replied the other mech, not missing a beat.
"Why do you find strength in me when I feel like there is nothing but weakness?"
Blaster thought the question over for a moment, and replied in a cautious tone, "I think it's just been ingrained in you that crying is a sign of weakness. That care in general is a sign of it. It seems very…Megatron to drill that into his soldiers. Meanwhile, we've never had that level of propaganda. Most of us don't see crying as a weakness. Sometimes we just need to break down. Y'know, we fall so we can pick ourselves up again to become stronger. I see that in you. We know grief, Soundwave. We've lost our planet. We know we let our emotions to get the better of us sometimes, and that's okay."
Soundwave recognised the pearl of wisdom in the words, such like Prowl's had been, and he took a moment of silence to absorb it.
"I think you're right," he said quietly after his silence. "When did you get so wise?"
A shrug. "Don't know really. Just say and do what feels natural most of the time."
"I'm talking to Prowl this morning. Again. Maybe he can also shed more light on things," Soundwave said, finding himself get drowsier with each word he spoke, so relaxed as he was listening to Blaster's systems, spark, and voice.
"Good idea. You sleep now, you hear? I'll be right here in case you have another flux," Blaster murmured, stroking over Soundwave's helm.
Soundwave did.
"You know, I do think my story is helping Soundwave."
"Yeah?"
"Yes. Although it's slow, it's there. He was willing to take off his mask yesterday before the battle while in the rec-room. I'd say that's a step forward."
"Mmm….hey, ya reckon that Smokey would be able to talk to 'em all? He is the official Autobot psychologist after all. Gives 'em another support if they need it," suggested Jazz, cuddling up to his mate's chestplates, one hand resting, as it always did in before and during recharge, over Prowl's spark.
"I was thinking that as well. He also helped me…but not as much as you, sweetspark," replied Prowl, stroking over his mate's back.
The visor flashed playfully in the dark of their quarters and the saboteur replied, "Aw, that's sweet of ya…but Ah'm sure you didn't wake me up from recharge just to discuss these things. So what's up? Ya're bein' sneaky, 'n' Ah can feel it through our bond."
There was a low, husky chuckle that made Jazz shiver.
"Actually…I woke you up from your sleep…to make love to you," whispered the Praxian, rolling so he was all fours over the other black and white, smiling lovingly down at him.
Jazz grinned, "Ya romantic. Oh babe, ya know just the right thing to say."
"I know," replied Prowl, leaning down and capturing his bondmate's lips with his, relishing in the sweet embrace of their lips as they glided over each other, parting at the right moment in an orchestrated dance, glossa's reaching out to stroke, caress, tease. Soft pulses of love flowed over the bond, feeding and fuelling their need. The saboteur moaned into the kiss, lifting up his visor.
Pulling back, Prowl whispered, "Beautiful."
The spent the next two hours reuniting in body and spark, proving to the other just how beautiful the other was to them.
A/N: So…REVIEWS PLEASE! They will make me happy with this freaking mouse in the house that's freaking me out.
For the next chapter: Prowl talks to Soundwave about how he feels. But then, a vote by my readers. What should happen after this:
1) Jazz throws a 'Welcome to the Autobots' party for Soundwave and the Seekers. Cue drama, karaoke and laughter.
2) The Seekers do their Trine ritual.
Vote! And ye shall receive.