Of These Chains

He hung, servos secured to the ceiling, peds secured to the floor. Around his hip was another chain, and it secured him to a femme, her helm resting against her arm. She was unconscious in a similar position, and the mech watched her for several moments before he jerked on his bounds like he had since he arrived all those years ago. She had been there, too, but unlike the other femmes, she didn't whimper, didn't even peep except to gasp and sigh. They didn't exchange words, not that they didn't know how...rather they didn't remember, and were not permitted. Collars around their necks ensured they would never utter any understandable word in any language.

The femmes that remained were tough, despite one's strangely-pleasing pink armoring. She was the bravest one, and she was the strongest. She held the record of the most bounds broken, and she continued to improve. Right now, as the mech watched, she shattered the chains holding her right arm up and she gave a primal roar of victory, one the mech found himself lost in as the others joined in. The femme beside him jerked awake and she looked around. Instead of offering her voice in the roar, she grinned enough that her fangs flashed, a rare thing the mech saw. He smiled at her and made a soft sigh.

She whistled and laid her helm back on her arm, purring in a contented way. Her wings fluttered lightly, damaged and broken. The mech wanted to run his black servos down their lengths, but such daydreaming was cut to an end.

A cherry-red mech entered, sporting shiny finish. He was a bird of paradise in a house of crows, and every optic was drawn to him. As always, he preened for them, and then he went down to business. He greeted them by a series of numbers and letters that were their new designations, and the only reason the mech liked his was because it was his favorite number...and he had nothing to compare it to. He didn't remember his true designation.

"Ah, O-24." The mech stopped in front of him and smiled. A cruel, twisted grin that stretched from audio to audio. O-24 shivered as he was released, the femme jolted out of the safety of her dreams when he cut her down as well. "Your turn."

They were workers, and various bots would have a chance to go outside and mine while the others would remain inside, chained and collared. O-24 frowned. Well, they were collared too, but at least they were outside.

But it was raining, and all joy was sapped from him. It wasn't even the fun rain that sparklings would romp and play in. It was the rain that came down like purge, swamping dipped areas and turning them into lakes and ponds. Nothing could be seen an inch in front of their faces, and O-24 gulped and his partner sighed. At least it wasn't acid rain...

They ran, but it was no use. They would have gotten drier, it seems, if they had walked. The cherry red mech, however, was protected under a collapsable tent on a pole. He shook it off in the mouth of the mine and propped it up, letting a few of the younger prisoners marvel at it before he prodded them with his prod. O-24 waited for them to yelp and whimper at the surging electricity, waited for the crackle to sound, but the prod was off, and he relaxed. He lifted his tools and carried them off in the direction of his designated mine, the femme limping after him. She carried her load of tools with her back bent, her arms wrapped securely around the fabric wrapped around the shovel and pick. She laid it out at the end of her side of the chain and she watched O-24, her optics dim. He powered on, his skinny frame doing less work that he had when he first arrived. In fact, when they finished that day, they accomplished next to nothing. But the red mech still allowed them to bathe in the hot pools of water. Mechs even washed the grime from them, and O-24 felt like he had been accepted by Primus.

"Clean them good," the mech barked. He eyed the pink femme that growled under a Vehicon's touch, her shoulders pinned to the wall with one hand, the other rubbing at her back and aft. "I don't like it when they smell and look greasy..."

And then it happened. O-24 watched as every femme in the room was forced into submission. He himself was even molested, and he cried out with all the femmes. Tears rolled down his cheeks and he caught sight of his partner, who laid under the mech and gave weak protests, her claws scratching at the mech above her, who grunted and growled and worked himself into a heavy overload. She twitched.

When they were left alone again, the femme that broke her chains struggled less, wails and sobs forming on her glossa instead of shrieks of victory as link after link broke. The rest of the femmes sobbed, something they hadn't done since they arrived. O-24 looked over at his partner. She twitched. He blinked. Her optics opened and their gaze met, and they stared at each other. No word, spoken in their native tongue or in their made-up language, was spoken. And then she whistled sadly. I hurt.

O-24 wished he could nuzzle her from his position on the wall, but he just nodded and squeaked. She gave a weary smile and she layed her helm back against her arm. The chains felt heavier.

The sobbing kept O-24 awake, and he tested the bounds again. This time, he pulled on them longer, and there was a clink. Another clink sounded and another, another...until O-24 was on his pedes and standing tall. He looked at the femme and tore her down, but he stopped. The insignia on her wing made her stop. It was different than the ones that marked him and the others. It was sneered at often, he remembered. It was purple and triangular, and it wasn't welcome. He looked down at the chain connecting him, the one that had kept him grounded to this femme. He wondered, absently, if the breakage of this chain would result in him knowing who he was...but it would mean breaking what had come to be the first thing he had in this prison. Even if he tried to think as back as he knew he could, all he could invision was a chain around his hips. He left it, pulling his servos away. He whistled, chirped and whined, forming the phrase, let this one remain.

She stared at him, her optics dimming and she nodded, lowering herself onto her peds. The sobbings melted into exhausted sleepy-time noises and O-24 looked around, knowing that he couldn't save them all. The time was perfect for him and his partner to leave, and too many leaving wouldn't be good...

One step into the hall turned into a run, and he and the femme were free...free!

Gone were the collars, broken where the shackles and the only chain that remained was the one between them. They danced, soft sounds squeaking past their vocals that hadn't been used.

"Saved!"
"Free!"
"Home!"

"Together," O-24 finished as he grabbed the femme's servos and he kissed them both. Then they started walking, leaving the others behind and leaving two empty spaces in the prison.

I liked writing this one a lot ;-; O-24 was supposed to be Optimus Prime, in the beginning of the war, and the femme was a random femme I threw into the story. I've been dreaming of this story XD Now it's come true! X3 Enjoy!