Progression…
Solace was not something Arcee experienced often, so when she woke gradually (as opposed to being wrenched abruptly from recharge with a torture implement), she was pleasantly surprised. The two-wheeler turned as much as she was able in her restraints, doing a sweep of the room.
Empty. Good.
She let herself bask in the peaceful silence, knowing it might be broken at any time.
'How long has it been?' she wondered – not for the first time. It didn't really matter, she supposed. Her mission remained unchanged. She would wait out the clock; continue resisting until one of two things occurred. Either he would grow bored and frustrated and eventually kill her, or a way out of this Primus-forsaken place would present itself. While the latter was preferable, either outcome meant victory for her, and defeat for her detestable captor. A small part of her really hoped she would escape, so that she could enjoy his undoubtedly furious expression.
She busied herself thinking about what the others might be doing. Bumblebee would have likely assembled what remained of the survivors by now, and it was possible that new 'Bots were arriving daily. For all she knew there was a small army standing against the Decepticon threat. The notion made a brief smile flicked over her lip components. She hoped to see them all again one day, even if it was just a glance.
The door to her cell slid open with a faint hiss, a familiar shadow falling over her. She grimaced as traces of fear flared to life within her, but she beat them back, steeling herself once more.
Arcee gave him the full force of her glare as he approached, and she noted with equal amounts of interest and anxiety that he seemed a little more rigid than he usually was; his countenance a tad more austere. She watched as his expression morphed into one of anticipation, but the underlying tension remained.
"I do hope you were not lonely in my absence," Megatron rumbled, prowling around her.
She scoffed. 'Not likely.'
"I will make up for lost time, rest assured,"
'Something unexpected,' the femme mused. Only the most pressing of matters ever kept him from partaking in his favorite hobby. One thing in particular came to mind – the only thing she imagined would truly displease him.
The warlord perused the variety of devices he'd yet to try on her, humming in approval when he made his decision.
"Are they giving you trouble… the Autobots?"
His optics widened marginally, but it was enough to let her know she'd hit the mark. When he turned a warning glare in her direction she grinned.
"They're going to destroy you."
Megatron sneered as he turned, preparing the device he'd selected. "You give them far too much credit. The end is near for your broken little faction."
"We'll see," she challenged, seconds later gasping as she was overcome with pain.
The warlord ensured to draw out her agony as long as he was able. He made her thrash and scream and curse until finally her systems gave out and she collapsed on the platform in an unresponsive heap. He stood over her for a longer while still, staring down at her with a frown gracing his countenance.
She was observant, this one, among the best of the Autobot scouts. He had not expected her to pick out any change in his demeanor, nor to decipher its meaning with such certainty. And to challenge him still, after everything he'd done to her… it was as exciting as it was maddening. He had taken her freedom and given her nothing but pain, and while it thrilled him to watch her squirm, little progress had been made in the way of breaking her. It was time to take a different approach.
He smiled. She was strong, his little captive, but he would crush her resolve. He would make her feel helpless… hopeless… ruined.
Not a long one, but it is a bit of a tipping point. Megatron realizes brute force alone may not be the answer with this one. So what comes next…?