Chapter 15: Snug
Hi all, this is short, but it felt complete to me, so I thought I'd post it. I had a nice vacation out in the (semi) wilderness, and my right-hand shift key seems to be broken. If you notice any odd punctuation, I totally apologize.
Megatron awoke with an Autobot Prime cuddled into his side. He felt warm and calm, which in his experience was not how a slave normally felt after a night in his master's berth. There was a blue and red arm flung across his chest, and he was taken aback to realize that his own arm was surrounding the Prime in an almost possessive manner.
His functioning was truly a strange place these days.
The previous recharge period, he had stayed awake for what seemed like ages, a thousand irrational fears and bad memories flitting through his processors. The fragging Autobot Prime had simply sprawled across the oversized (for him) berth and gone into recharge, like nothing whatsoever was amiss. He hogged the space, too. Megatron had been left awake, listening to the other mech's peacefully purring engines as he tried to decide how he felt about the current development.
When he had imagined sharing a berth with his little Autobot master, this was not precisely what he had pictured. He would admit, if only to himself, that he might have had a few daydreams of scenarios where he ended up in a position like this with the Prime. Those had been nothing but a bit of idle fun, though. Mostly when he was stuck in a lab (or a few times a drifting ship alone except for Starscream's disembodied head).
What could he say? It was frustrating to be disassembled and broken, and the only attractive, non-Starscream mechs around had been a couple of the Autobots. He was certainly not going to fantasize about Blitzwing, Blackarachnia or (ugh) Lugnut. Well, perhaps Blackarachnia, but that definitely wouldn't involve post-interface cuddling. He liked his lovers non venomous, thank you very much. Sharing a berth was a rare thing for him, something he only indulged in with mecha he trusted not to stab him while he was in recharge. It was ironic that he was doing it now with an out-and-out enemy combatant.
Well, the current situation might be less exciting than any of his earlier idle imaginings, but it was far more comfortable. It was…kind of nice actually. His master was going out of his way to be totally non-threatening, and he was doing a shockingly good job. It was hard to believe that he had almost been deactivated by this mech a short time ago.
Being comfortable was no reason to drop his guard, of course. He was still a Decepticon. And his Prime was still an Autobot. Even if he was a very cuddly one.
Megatron shifted, and the Prime snuggled back into his side. He resolutely ignored the pleasant sensation of the warm, smooth armor against his own. Just like he was going to ignore the sweetly purring engine and any attraction he might feel towards a mech who was his enemy. He looked down at the graceful blue, red and silver form curled against his own. Frag it all. At least there were no witnesses.
He sighed, and let recharge pull him back under. Obviously, he was in no danger here. Giving in just this one time wouldn't do any harm. It wasn't like he was sharing a berth with Starscream, after all.
The Decepticon spy nonchalantly strolled into the medical archives building at Iacon Central Medical Facility. She wore the drab colors of a maintenance worker, and steered a mag lift with cans of cleaner and other maintenance supplies. There had been an accidental spill of some kind of solvent down in the janitor's closet, and she had been dispatched to clean it up, as the regular maintenance bot had had a nasty but nonfatal traffic accident that morning.
She hummed quietly as she went. This was her kind of assignment, walking into the target in plain site, in a guise that no one would bother to question. After all, a mop and a bucket were pretty much a mark of membership anywhere.
Some time and multiple cleaning rags later, she "discovered" another "leak" near one of the conduits that led to a network node, which happened to be part of the isolated medical records system. A few quick downloads into a handheld memory module, and she was done. Wouldn't want to court nasty security measures by trying to download info into her processor, after all. Besides, it was undoubtedly encrypted, and would have to be cracked elsewhere, by other mecha. She was an infiltrator, not a data specialist.
She surreptitiously slid the module into the false bottom of an empty bucket. No problems. Agent Reflector and General Strika would be pleased. Now all she had to do was make the rendezvous and deliver her data haul. She hoped that at some point she would be able to report her success to Shockwave. He would be approving in that understated way of his. Hopefully they would be busting him and the others out of this pit in the not-too-distant future. The fragging Autobots had overstepped big time.
She left the med center just as she had entered it, another janitorial-grade Autobot of no great importance. No possible threat to anyone, and only a few steps up from a drone in the optics of the higher-ups.
Who needed an invisibility cloaking system? An unremarkable faceplate and a boring paint job, and a clever mecha could go anywhere she pleased. Thunderblast smiled. It was a good cycle.
Shockwave sat statue-still in the corner of his barren cell, his knees drawn up to his chest plates. He was staying still to conserve energy and trying to stay warm. The guards had tossed him in here and left him, with only the occasional delivery of a small amount of low-grade fuel. It was actually better than he had expected, given the Autobots' usual attitude towards those they considered traitors.
That was a relief, but also concerned him. He had expected to have been publicly tried and executed by now. They had done only a cursory hack of his processor and left him here to rot. They must have other plans for him, but he was unsure what they were.
He was capable of withstanding the isolation, but it was difficult. As a spy, he was used to keeping a healthy emotional distance from those around him, but he was also accustomed to being surrounded by mecha. He found himself missing the chatter of his co-workers, annoying though he had always found it. His other persona, Longarm, had been more amused by it, but that mech was a construct, parts of his personality that he had used to build shell programs to avoid slipping out of character.
He worried about what had happened to his liege, and what his own fate might be. He had accepted the likely possibility that he would die at Autobot servos one day, but he wanted that death to be a brave one in the line of duty, not slowly offlining of energy deprivation while curled in a barren cell.
He had no idea what had happened to the others, Lugnut and the Starscream clones. Those pitiful creatures didn't even have developed fully personality matrixes yet, their mental and emotional development jumpstarted with (mostly unfortunate) facets of Starscream's personality.
Shockwave momentarily offlined his optic. He wished he had some idea what was going on. It was possible that the Autobots were leaving him in isolation to soften him up for something, but he didn't know what.
He hoped they moved him somewhere, put him on trial, something. Besides the fact that he could use a change of scene, it might give him some opportunity to escape this place and perhaps even find his lord.
Tucked into a tiny alcove in a jury-rigged bed on board Omega Supreme, Sari Sumdac dreamed. The blue light sang to her in words she almost, but not quite understood. It wanted her to do…something. She wasn't sure what.
One thing she did know was that the glowing crystal thingy it kept showing her was lonely and wanted a worthy mech to carry it. It had been lost and alone in the dark for a long, long time. She thought it needed to meet Optimus. He was the worthiest bot she knew.
She was pretty sure it wanted her to come visit, too. What the heck was that all about? She wished Prowl were here. He was always so good at that mystical touchy-feely stuff.
The the blue glowing thing (she was mostly sure it was the Allspark) pulsed a feeling at her. A sense of…agreement?
She woke up, disoriented in the dim lighting. There was something she was supposed to do. Unfortunately, she wasn't quite sure what it was. One thing she was sure of, was that she needed to go and visit the AllSpark. And she was pretty sure she should bring the guys.
Sari sighed. She really, really wished Prowl was here. He'd have some kind of ninja wisdom about all this. Maybe he would have been able to make some sense of all these weird dreams she was having about the Allspark, and jetbots (she was pretty sure one of them was Starscream) and a big white winged mech with kind blue optics.
And maybe something about a temple, or a church or something. But she wasn't quite sure about that part. She made a mental note to ask Ratchet and Arcee about it in the morning. Maybe they could help her find out about the building on Robot Wikipedia or whatever they used. It was worth a try, anyway. Ratchet was, like, super old, so maybe he had been there in person.
She could still hear the Allspark (probably the Allspark) singing quietly to itself. Sari sighed. Why did being a techno-organic freak of nature of semi-unknown origins have to be so complicated?
Optimus woke with a Decepticon halfway curled around him, engine purring softly, so quiet it was nearly silent. It was astonishingly comfortable. Megatron was warm, and his fields were calm as a peaceful sea. The berth was comfortable, and the sun through the elaborate windows (he had never noticed the colored borders on the sturdy plas-glass before) was bright.
It was going to be a beautiful day on Cybertron.
He needed to get up. He was pretty sure that the smart thing to do would be to give Megatron his space for a little while after this. It had been a big step. The mech was so fragging prickly, and his space had definitely been invaded. Though apparently he didn't mind Optimus's presence at all- as long as he wasn't conscious.
The Prime ex-vented softly, just barely audible. Megatron stirred slightly, and he froze. He suddenly didn't want to be here, didn't want to see those red optics open and be angry, or accusing.
Optimus slowly extricated himself from the heavy arm that was loosely surrounding him. The berth was soft yet firm, with a soft, smooth covering that muffled vibration and sound. He was glad of that, because it made sneaking out much easier. He felt an almost physical pang when he left his Decepticon's EM fields, but decided to ignore it. He padded to the door, using the stealthy movement style Prowl had taught him during their training sessions back on Earth.
Shooting a last glance at his erstwhile berthmate, he saw a frown cross Megatron's faceplates. The mech tossed restlessly, one heavy, clawed servo landing on the empty space beside him.
Optimus ex-vented again, very quietly. His presence was obviously disturbing the elder mech's rest, and even in recharge, he was unhappy about it. That was typical, after all, and Optimus needed to get used to it.
To anyone who is wondering, yes, Megatron is totally frowning in his sleep because Optimus isn't near him anymore. You may squee now, should you feel the need.