Wolf by the Ears Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Everything recognizable belongs to Hasbro or Takara, except the bits that are fanon. No money is being made, this is just for laughs.

When Megatron emerged from the maintenance facility, The Prime and the Medic had been joined by a familiar looking, lithe black and white mech with a visor. He absently searched his databanks to recall that this Autobot was a Cyberninja formerly under the command of the large-chinned idiot Prime. A formidable warrior, for an Autobot. Gossip in the stockades (which Megatron had avidly eavesdropped on) put him as an almost certain addition to the ranks of the Primes.

Like the young Prime, this Autobot was almost unfairly good looking, all clean lines and contrasting colors. Sometimes Megatron suspected that the Magnus chose his lieutenants for reasons more aesthetic than practical. Typical of the decadence that Cybertron had fallen to. That, at least was one flaw no one could lay at Megatron's stabilizers. Look at Lugnut, after all.

Two pairs of optics and one visor turned to look at him, and he instinctively straightened his posture to military correctness. Filthy Autobots, daring to parade him before their friends as though he were a captive alien beast…

"So uh, now that I've checked in on you, I'll just be goin' Op." The mech said. "I can see that you're all still functionin' and uh, obviously busy, so I can let the rest of the team know to do their own thing for a while..."

The medic caught hold of a piece of the ninja's kibble and hauled him back as he attempted to make his escape. "Hold it, speedy." The gruff voice said. "You decided to barge in, you're going to be properly introduced to the new mech in your leader's life. For all we know, you might end up with your own Decepticon roommate, if those sanctimonious twits don't get their heads out of their exhaust pipes pretty fragging soon."

"What." Someone snarled. The white mech took a step backwards, and tripped over the couch in a most un-ninjalike manner. Oh, the snarl and the attached growling noise had come from him. Megatron took a moment to center himself. No need to let the Autobots know what his triggers were, after all.

Unlike the slender ninjabot, the Prime took a step toward him, his stance and face broadcasting sympathy. "We hope it won't come to that, Megatron. But, if it does, I'll do what I can. The council would put me in charge of such a project, and I won't pair your lieutenants with bots who would mistreat them."

"This is one of the main reasons the Great War started, Autobot." He snarled. "The leaders then wouldn't accept war builds as citizens, tried to treat them like drones, then like toys. The Decepticons will die before they go back to those days. Even the least of us. Even if we have to take all of Cyberton with us." His servos fisted, his claws scoring his palms. "Once word of this atrocity reaches the rest of my kind, the council will burn."

"To be fair, you flying, fighting types didn't exactly settle into Civillian society real well." The medic said. "There were rashes of assaults and murders and assorted destruction everywhere that tried to integrate you into society. What the Senate did back then was all kinds of wrong, but you lot didn't exactly have clean servos either."

"So they chose slave bonding."

Blue optics flashed. "I aint defending those aft headed fools, but right here and now, it was either this or shooting you through the spark chamber in front of half the populace. Optimus isn't some over-engineered underclocked compassionless towers twit like your last master. And now we know about the side effects of this kind of bonding. Neither one of you is going to go insane from an incomplete, atrophied spark bond with an incompatible mech. The medics oversight board was watching this time, and they made it a condition that anyone they activated the code in would only be attached to a bot whos spark had close resonance to theirs."

A tiny, grim smile played across the medic's lip components. "Of course, that's also going to make it a lot harder for you or any other Con to get out of their little predicament by having their fellows assassinate their master. It may not be a True Bond, but the Slave Sparkbond will hurt you if your master dies. Maybe past recovering.

"I barely felt it, when DiamondSinger died." Megatron retorted. It was true, after all. Sparkbond or no, all he had felt was a sense of freedom…

"That's because he was a sociopathic aft with heat sinks for processors." The medic replied.

"Any you would know this how, Autobot?" He just barely avoided adding the word "scum."

"Arcee and I have been doing some research, ever since we got the news. Plus the Iaconian Medical Council got wind of this little disaster and overruled the Council on some of the particulars. I'm attending physician for the two of you, by the way. My job is to make sure the pair of you don't damage each other's sparks. Not that Optimus here is likely to do anything nasty to you without provocation anyway."

The Prime in question was back to looking horrified. "What are you talking about, Ratch? The Council said I had to be his master because I won in battle. They didn't say anything about going insane or dying if the bond is broken!"

"That's because they're jerks, Prime. Things were different, back when the Magnus bore the Matrix of Leadership and there were AllSpark Voices. There was more of a balance. But the Matrix was lost during the last Quintesson War, there hasn't been a legitimate Voice in eons, and we don't have either to act as a moral check to Cybertron's leaders any more. Besides, the battle thing is important. It makes the Decepticon less likely to subconsciously fight when the bond is established if he already respects you."

They all turned to look at the Decepticon in question. "I do not respect the little Autobot Prime." He said.

The red, blue and silver mech winced.

"Don't worry, he'll get over it once he gets to know you." Said the medic to the Prime. "The space bridge team did, after all. Now, Jazz and I are going to drive off, and you two are going to have a nice quiet evening and recharge, preferably with your energy fields overlapping. It will do the both of you a world of good. Nice job on his plating, by the way. He looks like he was professionally detailed. Make sure he gets another coat of wax before he goes out again."

With that, Ratchet patted Optimus on the arm and ushered the Ninja out, firmly shutting the door behind them.

In the suddenly empty apartment, the two mechs stared at each other. What in the galaxy were you supposed to do when you had your greatest opponent living with you? Optimus decided to continue with his (probably doomed) attempt at acting like things were normal.

He led his guest to the master suite, which contained the only berth in the sizable apartment that would comfortably accommodate a mech the size of the huge Decepticon warror. "You should recharge, Megatron." He said softly. "I know you've had a long day. The main berthroom is big enough for you to use comfortably." He resisted the urge to babble inconsequential details about the apartment, his surprise at getting it issued to him, and its size and luxury. The leader of the Decepticons was probably used to that sort of thing.

Though he had spent a lot of time on Earth, and the accommodations there had been interesting, but not exactly elegant or convenient. Suddenly, Optimus found himself missing the little organic world with a sharp pang. Things had been so much simpler there, and he would have been able to go sit under Prowl's tree and think. Would have been able to talk to Prowl…

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost missed the renewed flood of fear and anger across the vestigial spark bond. He looked up at Megatron, optics wide. The mech's face was back to being impassive, but his optics were filled with hatred.

Oh. Right.

"I'll ah, leave you to your rest." He said, inwardly squirming. Ratchet had said they should recharge near one another, but slag him if he was going anywhere near a mech who was looking at him like that.

He left the Decepticon by the open door and retreated to the far end of the main room. He was not running, he told himself. Merely giving Megatron some obviously much needed space.

Well. That had not been what he expected. Megatron sat on the edge of the soft, spacious berth, feeling the high density memory foam give beneath him. So unlike the hard metal of his cell in the Stockades.

He had assumed that when all the witnesses had gone, he would see the young Prime's true character, and perhaps he had. The mech had looked shocked and distressed, probably at the aggression he had felt over the bond.

Megatron frowned thoughtfully. Already he was at least as aware of his new master's emotions as he had been of his old owner's. That awareness had not developed until many cycles had passed. It was more than a little disconcerting. He did not desire such intimacy with an Autotobot master, and he seriously doubted that the little mech felt any differently.

He reclined on the berth, distantly noticing how comfortable it was as his processing routines worked on the problem of the little Prime who was going to be a part of his life for the immediately foreseeable future. He allowed himself a full-body stretch, happy at least that he was able to do so after so long retrained and hemmed in by walls and guards. His plating was clean, his injuries treated, and he was not currently being forced to submit to any unwanted fragging. He had had worse evenings.

Staring up at the delicately engraved ceiling with its swirling decorative fractal pattern, He wondered if the Prime was disgusted by him. Perhaps he was being left alone because the Autobot did not wish to touch him.

But no, he had detected no such thing in the washrack earlier. If anything, the Prime had seemed to enjoy cleaning him. It had been… pleasant. He was still mulling over the issue when he realized how tired he actually was. His rage had been keeping him awake and alert all this time, but now in these peaceful surroundings, it had insufficient fuel to sustain itself. Exhaustion rose like a great dark wave, and recharge sucked him under. In the luxurious home of his enemy, Megatron slept.

Optimus sat on the floor of the elegant little balcony attached his new home, leaning against the building's wall, his legs stretched out before him. He gazed thoughtfully at the brilliant, many-spectra lights of the city of Iacon. It was not so unlike Detroit, at this distance. Except for all the extra moons, of curse. Funny how much that odd organic world had come to feel like home. Perhaps it had been the mechs he was with that had caused the effect.

He sipped the small cube of the high-grade that Ratchet had brought him and contemplating the Universe's warped sense of humor. This was not at all what he had had in mind when he had dreamed of becoming a Prime, or being a hero.

The medic had instructed him to recharge near Megatron, but he felt sick at the thought of being in a berth with someone who hated him. The Decepticon feared him now, too. Because of the bond, and what Optimus could order him to do on a whim. Certainly Megatron wouldn't be afraid of somebot like him under other circumstances.

The Decepticon leader was one of the most legendarily badaft fighters in the galaxy, and Optimus was practically a youngling in comparison. The worst part was, if Megatron hadn't been so angry and afraid, Optimus would have been more than happy to crawl into that berth beside him and feel that energy field, complex with age and cunning, hum against his own.

He sighed, and clunked his helm back against the wall of the apartment building. He needed to get a grip. Just because he was inexplicably attracted to the mech did not mean that he had any right to invade his personal space.

Of course, it was medical directives, and it wasn't like he would do anything unethical… He could feel the pull of the bond faintly, and it almost seemed to be calling him to Metatron's side. He mentally shook it off. Too bad. There was no way he was going in that room tonight. You don't earn a mech's trust or loyalty by intruding on them when they're vulnerable. He might not be the Universe's most experienced leader, but he knew that much.

I really, honestly don't know where the "Megatron's lieutenants may end up in the same position" thing came from. The clones don't even have the programming (though of course the council's lackeys do now have a copy, since they spent all that time hacking Megs).

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