These Paths We Tread (Autobot x OC)

XLIV. Headlong Into the Abyss

*** "text" = Cybertronian speech

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Catherine was terrified.

She had managed to stop her body from shaking some time ago, but she was still terrified. For good reason, of course. She'd have to be an emotionless rock to not be scared as she was held not too tightly, but not loose enough to get free in the hands of a Decepticon. Granted, there wasn't really anywhere she could go if she did manage to escape, being that she was in the back of a cargo plane-disguised Decepticon, with a whole lot more surrounding her and her captor. They had been staring at her at one point, and had even made movements to come after her, but her captor—she still didn't know who, but they were a deadly, silent force that was able to force the others to submit with a short burst of their language and a flash of his single, long visor-like optic.

And throughout it all, she said nothing. There was no point. She knew none of these metal bastards cold be swayed, and she knew her captor—while keen on keeping her intact and unharmed—would not be letting her go for any other purpose than to do what they wanted her to. Unfortunately, that "purpose" made her stomach twist in a knot and made her swear to not let them get it no matter what. It was possible they didn't even know how she did it, so that might help her. They obviously needed her, too, so that could keep her alive for a while—possibly even long enough for the Autobots and NEST to find her.

She tightened her fingers as she thought back on her comrades, recalling the fallen forms of her two guardians. She felt her throat constrict a little, and she had to close her eyes to keep her barriers she had formed from breaking down in the plane's hold. She would not let them see her cry or sob or anything! Not even if Jazz and Sideswipe had been hurt so badly they could be dead.  

She shook the thought away; they couldn't be dead. Ratchet wouldn't let them. She'd lost too many to lose any more. First Steeljaw and then her drones? Those two couldn't be dead.

She glanced over at the mech sitting beside them and glared, though he didn't see it as he stared nonchalantly at the Decepticons across from him. Her vow be damned, she was going to kill Barricade. She was going to make sure he suffered the most brutal death possible, either by her hand or someone else's. She shouldn't have expected him to side with the Autobots, but she had and she knew her rage was partly because of her pride, but he was still going to suffer. He had killed her drones without even a second thought and shot her two guardians; he would pay.

She felt the hand gripping her tighten some, the metal edges pressing through her clothes, into her skin. She bit back a small hiss and turned to look at the mech holding her. His optic did not meet her gaze, but she knew by the action that he didn't appreciate her glaring or possible even her thoughts. She could almost swear he was able to read them—having tightened his hand when, in a state of desperation, she once thought of using her powers to possible escape—and that notion did indeed frighten her a little more. Regardless, even with his silence, he had made it quite clear she was going nowhere and not going to do anything but what they required of her.

"Tsk. How much longer? This place is too cramped!" one of the Decepticons shouted, though Catherine could make none of it out. Still, she watched, and knew they were not pleased with their situation.

"Shut your processor!" another snarled, jabbing a clawed finger at them.

"What was that, you slagger?!" the first growled back, standing up.

"Order: Cease argument," her captor spoke evenly, and the two became silent at once, though they scowled unhappily. Beside her, Barricade chuckled with amusement.