Transformers Prime: Stay Tuned

Chapter Six: Cold, Dark and Lonely

 The glowing of Ratchet's spilt energon was the only light he had to guide him in the black, shadowy cell. It wasn't like he could go far, his wrists were bound behind his back, and his ankles were cuffed together. The most he could do was scoot along the cold, dirty floor, smearing the energon along, dirtying his plating as he went. He wanted to get somewhere where he could see, just down the hall, through the barred door, but there was only blackness, and he couldn't seem to find the door. The cell was big, and the floor was earthy and scratchy with rocks and dirt. Ratchet made a noise of frustration as he felt the rough soil stick to the wound on his thigh, where Rumble had stabbed him when he had been kidnapped. It hadn't been treated or cleaned in any way, and with the filth of the cell getting in, was well on the way to infection.

In a desperate scramble to abandon the first location, Rumble had sliced open his palm pressed a blaster to the back of his helm, ordering him to write a message across the table for his mate to find. This wound had been washed and wrapped once they arrived at the next hideout.

Ratchet tried to calm his breathing, his spark pounding. He felt constant panic, trapped in pure black, unable to feel anything but the ground and his own blood. The first hours he had been in this prison, he had spent some time calling out and requesting to be kept somewhere that would better suit his condition. Skywarp had stormed into the cell, struck him, forced a rag into his mouth, and stormed back out. He was helpless. He wanted Optimus.

He had to practice breathing exercises. All the panic wasn't good for the sparkling, he had to calm down.

Optimus will find us. The medic told himself. He curled around his stomach, a soft whimper of sadness leaving him. This wouldn't be nearly as frightening as it was if he hadn't been sparked. In that case, he would've fought them hard, resisting in every possible way, but now, all he wanted to do was protect the life inside him. He had to trust Optimus to save him now. Your sire will find us. He insisted.

The cell door opened behind him with a loud creak, and he froze. "Hey, Little Autobot. You're much quieter now." Skywarp drawled, and approaching footsteps made him jolt and try to scoot away. A clawed servo caught his arm and dragged him back. "Hold still."

"Mmphh," Ratchet's protest was muffled by the rag as he was held there, twisting weakly against the grip.

"I'll cut one of your sensitive little hands off if you keep moving like that." The seeker purred in his audial, teasing the sensors along Ratchet's palm with a talon. Ratchet stiffened instantly, whimpering. "Medics and their servos." Skywarp released his hold, only to close his servo around Ratchet's throat, forcing his chin up, trapping his gaze upward. Ratchet wondered how the Decepticon was seeing so well in the dark. "I'm going to take the rag out. If you scream, I'll hurt you. Understand?" The medic made a quiet noise of confirmation. "Good Little Autobot." Claws pulled the dirty, foul tasting fabric from his mouth, and Ratchet coughed and gagged, gasping.

"Please," he rasped.

Skywarp chuckled, and there was shifting plating. Ratchet felt a wave of panic, bracing against the grip around his neck. There was a new glow, and he recognized a cube of energon. His frame slackened, relief replacing his sudden fear. "You're fun to play with." Skywarp pulled the cube from his subspace, before closing the plating. "So afraid. . . And they said you'd be uncontrollable."

"I just want my sparkling to be safe." Ratchet stared up at him as the glow of the cube lit up his face. His optics were covered by goggles. "Please. . . I can't stay here. I won't fight you, I just want to protect my sparkling."

"How pathetic. Open your mouth." Skywarp was grinning, flashing pointed denta.

Ratchet gasped as his throat was briefly crushed, the cube brought to his lips. He tried to turn his helm and resist, but Skywarp only squeezed harder, the cables beneath his servo groaning. He choked, squeezing his optics shut and obediently parting his lips to take the energon, trying to swallow in time with Skywarp's rapid pouring.

"Don't spill a drop." The seeker warned as he gagged. The medic made a noise of discomfort as he tried to keep up, whimpering pleadingly. Skywarp paid him no sympathy, forcing the contents of the entire cube down his throat without a break. When the seeker finally released him and pulled the cube away, Ratchet entered a coughing fit, choking miserably. "You can't tell me that you've been fragging Optimus Prime all this time, but can't take a cube of energon? That doesn't follow." Skywarp teased, chuckling. "A huge mech like that has got to be much harder to swallow."

"You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?" Ratchet snapped hoarsely. "Shut the frag up."

"I like you. You're fun. I can't wait for a session with you." The 'con tucked the empty cube back into his subspace. Ratchet bristled, mind going to certain conclusions. "Don't get any ideas, I'm above fragging you filthy grounders," Skywarp shuddered. "But cutting you open and making you beg for mercy while your mate watches. . ." He grinned, and the medic jolted as he reached towards him. "Let's shut you up until next time."

"No-!"

The rag was forced in between his lips and denta, pressing his glossa down and triggering his gag reflex. His cries of protest were muffled, and Skywarp left wordlessly.