TF-Bound and Broken 6- Search

Damn it all, I knew it was a bad idea for me to let Sides go without me; I always have to save his aft when he gets in too deep. And with Ratch and Jazz and Blaster out of the Ark, it’s the quietest it’s ever been (aside from Wheeljack’s explosions) and I can tell it’s unnerving everyone. We’re all so used to Jazz and Blaster deafening us with their music and Ratchet spewing curses as loud as his vocalizer allows him and threatening to turn me and Sides into femmes- not the good kind neither, like Elita - no, the annoying, prissy weaklings that complain too much. Sideswipe said I’m already prissy and complain too much, but I don’t see it.
At least Prowl seems to be on the same page as me- he’s speeding, which for his is like Jazz with no music; unheard of.
Ok, I’ll admit it- I miss the guy, but after all Jazz has done for me and Sides (not to mention over half the Ark) it’s hard not to. Wouldn’t really mind hearing a threat against my well-being right now, no one’s yelled at me for a little under a week- With Ratchet missing and Prowl acting like Red during one of his glitch attacks.
I can remember before Prowl and Jazz bonded, when we we’re still on Cybertron. Well, I remember what the other’s told me…
Apparently, me a Sides’ creator was horrified by our bond- that our sparks were just one split in half- anyway; he (or she) abandoned us in an alley in the bad part of the city we lived in, and left us to die. Thankfully, a kindly old mech found us before we died and decided to take us home with him. He got us better, raised us, and even went and tracked down our creators- But when the guy tried to ask why they left us, they told him that we were abominations and that he should have let us die in that alley. He still kept us, but told us what happened to our parents once we were old enough.  He named us a little later in our lives because he never could think of a name suitable enough. One day - he found them; for me- Sunstreaker; for my bro- Sideswipe. Ever since, those have been our names. (Of course he saw fit to give us nicknames- Sunny and Sides…)
So me and Sides grew up together as brothers and twins Yeah, I said- Sides is the closest person to me in the world; and I know I’m going to regret saying this, but I wouldn’t want another partner or brother, Sideswipe’s a good warrior (and has occasionally saved my aft), But then again, he’d have to be to be related to me, right? And those fraggin’ Con’s have got him now- whatever, Sides doesn’t go without a fight, I bet he gave them a run for their money.
Well, anyway- If they hurt him; they’ll have me to deal with and I’ll give them a fight they won’t forget…
But as I was saying, it was about the time that Sides and I could walk and talk and think for ourselves that the Decepticons attacked our city. Our caretaker, a worker mech named Diaxon, tried to get us away. The Con’s would kill mechs like him and would take us to be raised as their soldiers. He managed to get a long way past the city when a stray shot blasted the foundation columns of one of the buildings we were hiding in, and it partially collapsed. Sides and I got pushed away from a collapsing pillar that was going to fall on us by Diaxon.
He was crushed instantly- but not dead.
Sides and I tried to help him, but we were just younglings, we didn’t know what to do. So we stayed like that; surrounded by rubble under an unstable building with the only person who ever cared for us dying slowly. But like before, our cries caught attention, and we were found like that by two mechs with red faces on them. We had seen those faces before- they were symbols.
Me and Sides were too little to know, so we assumed that these two- one tall red, silver, and blue mech with a face-guard, and strong-looking the other a red and silver with a crest running the length of his red helm- were with the mechs that has blasted at us and caused our guardian to be crushed. So we charged at them, and didn’t make it too far. The two caught us kicking and flailing with tears streaming. We struggled - biting, scratching, kicking; anything we could. We screamed as the taller mech walk towards Diaxon, saying something to him. Sides and I were too hysterical then to figure out what they were saying but after a while the taller masked mech turned and nodded to the mech holding us, who put us down. We immediately ran to Diaxon and the taller mech backed off a little. He looked up at the two mechs as they converged on us. I can remember the conversation: Diaxon was convincing the mechs to take us away. As much as we begged for him- when the two picked us up, he would not even attempt to move. And that’s the last we saw of him.
After that, Optimus and Ironhide managed to get us to their base where an old and kind (only for younglings) medic by the name of Ratchet, cared for us. We didn’t speak, we didn’t eat or sleep- we just kinda sat there; comforting each other over our link. The older mechs gave up on us. Leaving us alone for a while, or so we thought.
It really didn’t take us long to notice that there was somebody looking at us, or at least I didn’t- I remember looking up from Sides and looking at my reflection.
And that took me a while to figure out, or at least it would have if it didn’t start to talk to me. It asked us if we were ok. Right then, it poked its head up a little more- it was an older youngling sitting at the foot of the berth. The reflection being the visor he wore over his eyes. When he stood to full we saw another red-faced symbol. An Autobot. (Well one in training at that time)
Black helm, two horns, black and white paintjob with hints of red and blue. He talked to us for a while, said his name was Jazz, said Optimus had wanted him to take care of us. Jazz stayed with us for the time that we needed him, he always had a bright smile and an easy-going attitude that made it simple for us to trust him. I don’t really know much after that- only that me and Sides woke lying curled up next to Jazz, and feeling…safe.
I donno, we just lived at that base with Jazz for a long time. No matter where we went, it was always with him. I can’t remember if they tried to find us another home or what, but even so- Sides and I went on to join the Autobots. Mostly to take revenge on those damn Con’s who killed Diaxon, but in a small part; I think it was also so that we could stay with Jazz, who we had grown very attached to. And yes, when all of us became full grown mechs; Sides and I had a crush on him, seriously, it was hard not to. Have you ever spent five minutes with him? He’s got something that just makes him great to be around. And that’s coming from ME.
But I guess we should have known it wouldn’t work. But I’m still reeling- Prowl?! It was hard enough imagining them being friends, but bonded…it’s in a league of its own.
Now, he’s in trouble with some kinda sick mech who wants him dead and Prowl for his own- Like that’s going to happen ( Prowl will kill him if he’s lain a hand on his Porsche). But not only Jazz, but my brother and a whole bunch of guys who need a hand. We wont leave them, I wont leave Sides; I promised.
I’ll take these Decepticons down myself if I have to. Nobody hurts my brother and lives, nobody.
---
The Energon dripping into one eye and a severe cut under the other made it difficult to see anything more that blurred images. Pain laced every limb, every circuit. It hurt like slaggin’ hell! They had literally snapped off his rocket launcher, slashed his hood just above his spark chamber, and Barricade had a go at his midsection with those claws of his. ‘Sunny damn well be getting here or otherwise he won’t be a ‘twin’ for very much longer…’ He groaned.
Sideswipe’s strength had long since left him, but as yet another vicious slash of a whip marred his legs, he instinctively tried to curl up- only to be restrained by the ever holding cuffs that held his wrists and legs. He bit his lip; adding to the multiple gashes that he had left there already. It was more than he could take: he had already lost so much Energon- it pooled around him in a warm puddle, but with every lash, a new cut spilled forth his liquid life. The red warrior had all but lost count of the number of times the malicious crop had cut his skin open, all he knew was that if it didn’t stop soon, he would die. Sideswipe had long since kept his optics tightly shut to prevent the tears from spilling forth, and after being beat into a delirium, he opened them when a hand untied his gag, allowing his mouth to move freely again.
“That’s better; I want to hear you scream so loud, your brother will hear you.”
Starscream, of course. Before Sideswipe could so curtly reply- another lash came. And another, and another, and another…never once missing its agonizing tempo. The Lamborghini didn’t know how much more his lip could take before he bit it into chunks. After a couple more unbearable moments- they ceased, although- for Sideswipe, it took a few moments for the pain ebb away for him to notice. He kept his head downward, thinking Starscream might be trying to get him to look up so that he could do to Sideswipe what Barricade did to Jazz when they last met. But instead a finger hooked under his chin and made him look up the best he could. When that wasn’t satisfactory- Starscream kicked his chest right on his wounds and forced him to lie on his back. He groaned in discomfort; hearing the seeker sitting down beside him and casually start stroking his yet-to-be-damaged helm. The red twin wanted to jerk out of the touch, but doing so would only ensure more pain to his already aching body; so he lay still.
“Barricade had informed me that Prowl has been a bad mech and, instead of coming alone, has brought a little band of Autobots with him, he’s such a coward- he can’t face his fate on his own without his bonded to hold his hand.” Sideswipe could only imagine the sneer on the seeker’s face right now.
“I…I wouldn’t…be smiling at that…Sunny’s with…with them, isn’t he?” he managed between inhales of cool air.
He could HEAR the smile in Starscream’s voice. “Yes he is, my little nuisance. Ripe with that temper he can’t control. He won’t get very far though, none of them will. Well, except Prowl.”
Before he could respond, he was lifted upwards into the seeker’s arms. Because of the pain- the Lamborghini could scarcely move other than a small whimper. He heard Starscream take a few steps before lowering him onto a cool, metal surface; the jet kept his top half up while he reached around and undid the bindings on his arms. He was lowered down before he felt the restraints on his legs come off. As much as the relief was helpful, it was suspicious and the fact of where he had been laid was all the more reason for his worry. Starscream was seriously not thinking of- no; Sunstreaker would kill him for sure (if he wasn’t already going to) Sideswipe’s pain-filled body began to tremble, he wouldn’t be able to fight the seeker off or defend himself should the Decepticon do what Sideswipe was thinking of. But all that came was a laugh and more casual petting to his helm.
“Don’t think that I would lower myself to molesting you, Autobot- you’re hardly even worth it. The only pleasure I would get out of it would be the look on your precious brother’s face once he saw my work.”  The petting ceased.
“All I did was spread you out so there was more for me to torture.”
The whipping began again- this time Sideswipe couldn’t hold back his screams.
---
Primus, I can’t believe we let this go on for so long! Those poor guys- being at the mercy of Decepticons- what could be worse? Oh yeah, on of them is a deranged psychopathic interrogations officer who thinks Jazz stole Prowl away from him. I can understand that Prowl would want his bonded back, but he shouldn’t have come now that I think about it. Me and Red should have tied him up in his office or something and gotten others to help us; I’m sure Mirage, Hound, maybe Wheeljack and Brawn would help. Brawn likes to fight and the others would jump at the chance to help the others.
It never ceases to amaze me how close the crew of the Ark has gotten- we’ve all gone beyond just a bunch of mechs working together- we’ve become like family. Brothers, parents, friends, and sometimes even loves all on one spaceship. For me, I have two brothers, Smokescreen and Prowl, and many others who are like brethren to me. Primus, though, I still can’t bear the thought of someone hurting any of them. Jazz, who has always been like a creator to me, Sideswipe, Smokescreen, and the others, too; I really hope their okay.
It hurts to see Prowl lose his cool like this- he’s always so…Prowl (He’s his own word). He’s always been my calm, collected older brother (contrary to Smokey), but I can understand why he’s like this. I’ve seen how much he loves Jazz, I think the whole Ark has, and having him taken away AGAIN was as unbearable as the first time.
I don’t know much about this Barricade- I know that he was under Shockwave on Cybertron and that his victims rarely lived unless living tortured them more. He was transferred here under Megatron’s command, caught and kidnapped Jazz, tortured him, threatened him against Prowl, hurt them both and-… So many other things.
I’m a little scared; going inside Decepticon territory, invading their base- only six of us against their army. It doesn’t matter though; I know that this mission is really just to find them for the sake of easing our consciousnesses. We’re taking a huge risk, but we have to; we’re Autobots, we don’t leave our friends behind.
I can’t shake this feeling of fear that we’re already too late, and if these guys see their loved ones dead- if I see them dead, I don’t think I’d even want to go on being an Autobot anymore. I was just out of youngling hood when I was brought to the Ark, Jazz and my brothers took care of me well, and after all these years of being with them and the others- it would just hurt too much to see them lying on the cold floor; dead.
This nightmare feels like it’s been going on for eternity, it’s hard to believe last week we were all fine and happy. Twins annoying Ratchet, Ironhide arguing with the mini-bots, Wheeljack still exploding- sounds like home to me. Now the Ark is so quiet, it feels like a crypt compared to what it was. I want it back, we all do.
I don’t want to remember Jazz hugging me or Smokescreen convincing me to drink for the first time or Sideswipe and I at the shooting range because I miss them or because I think I’ll never see them again. I’m going to help bring them home, where they belong. I’ll do whatever it takes to save my brothers- all of them. I’ll find Barricade and make him pay for all that he’s done to our family.
We’ve just crossed into their territory.
Let it begin.
---
He couldn’t tell if that white femme had left, his optics had taken a pretty heavy damage. Sitting awkwardly like this didn’t help the pain in his legs or torso either. Maybe if he wasn’t so wounded he could have gotten the tight cables off of him, but as it was, gravity was the only thing that was going to move him.
Smokescreen’s spinal systems were also giving him trouble, his doorwings had large chunks missing and his hunched position sitting in the corner didn’t help in the least.
‘Damn it all, Optimus better get us out of here before we all die. Poor Jazz…’ He thought to himself, remembering the description of his friend that the white femme had jeered at him while she used her claws to make small but stinging cuts into his face and neck. It was bad enough being blind even if his optics worked, since he was in the dark, but being in a Decepticon torture room with no means of communication to the outside and a number of Autobots dying slowly somewhere ELSE was absolutely eating at him.
A few hours ago (at least that’s what he estimated), he and Sideswipe were dragged out of the room that Inferno was left in and separated. Smokescreen had attempted to free himself, but that was when the white femme (he thought he heard Skywarp call he Whitenoise) decided to use that satellite dish of hers to transmit one of her paralyzation waves, and then began her tirade of slicing him like fruit. He couldn’t have moved to save his life, but the pain he felt was real as it rippled through his body in sharp little spikes.
The Datsun bore through it, gritting his dentals and clenching his hands tightly- if he gave up, there would be nothing to keep him together. Save for the knowledge that Autobots were on their way (which the femme so gently told him while cutting his optic)
Smokescreen was nervous to say the least. The Decepticons knew that the Autobots were arriving, that was bad. It also meant that there would be a counter attack on them. His processor struggled to remind him that his brother, Prowl, was there and so was Trailbreaker- he hoped, between them, a surefire plan would be generated to get them the hell out of this mess.
Smokescreen also silently prayed that the others onboard the Ark didn’t have a betting pool on them. Being abducted by Seekers, how embarrassing…
Unfortunately, until the time when someone cam for him, he would have to wait.
---
This had ‘Bad Idea’ written all over it, but I’m ignoring that part of me this time. Inferno needs me, all of them need us. I don’t like going against Optimus, though; he’s usually the only one who will listen to me. However- my bonded is in danger and I won’t let him die, even if it costs me my life.
Hmph. I actually have Optimus and his little minions, the black and white duo, to thank for introducing and pushing Inferno and I together. Even though those two themselves weren’t together.
Since, as Security Director, I was in danger of being captured on the battlefield and interrogated- Prime and his advisors decided that I needed someone to prevent that. Optimus assured me he knew that I would never willingly part with any information that could be used against the Autobots, but Jazz could tell you that Shockwave has ways to find out regardless. And that’s when we recruited a large, grinning red mech by the name of Inferno. Strong, brave, and infinitely patient with me, despite my mood. He caught my optic immediately, but protocol (and Prowl) prohibited such antics. It didn’t take much for Inferno to start considering us friends, but I was still beyond that. And, of course, no secret is safe from the Ark’s resident saboteur (AKA- the audios in the wall). HE has ways to find out things, too, yet he still hadn’t noticed Prowl’s silent regards. (Everyone else had, I mean- the mech was practically screaming that he was in love with his partner. It was a surprise to us when he DID notice)
Jazz approached me and snuck the answers out of me, how, I have no idea- Jazz is…strange. I had begged and pleaded for him not to go gossiping with Blaster and the twins; they would tell Inferno and everything would go wrong. But oddly enough, he just grinned at me like an idiot and said there was no need for him to do so.
My confusion disappeared as soon as Inferno stepped through the door. I could tell by the look on his face- he had heard everything. I thought then and there that the first and only friend in my life would want nothing more to do with me; that he would cast me aside like my creators had. I prayed to Primus that he wouldn’t reject me, but I knew he would. Inferno would just laugh at me; tell me I was fooling myself, and that I wasn’t worth it. I damned Jazz to the lowest part of the pit for tricking me- because of him I would lose everything save for my job. While horrible visions of our saboteur being tormented flickered through my mind, Inferno decided to make his move. He might have said something- I don’t know; I was too busy imagining Jazz getting thrown into a snake pit. And… let’s just say it worked out because there were a lot of things that happened next, and most are too embarrassing to say. But he told me he didn’t know if he loved me, but he wanted to try and find out.
Unfortunately, after all this- I blacked out. Wish I hadn’t. But ever since then, he and I had gotten closer, yet still stayed the same. We would have to tell others we were bonded, they wouldn’t know otherwise.  And I guess it’s thanks to that grinning idiot, Jazz. If only he had seen how Prowl looked at him earlier…
I don’t know if Jazz considers me a friend- I'm not sure if anyone besides Inferno considers me anything more than a paranoid glitch, but I know that Jazz and the others are in need of help. It’s my job to keep the Autobots safe. And so far, I’ve failed miserably. But I won’t let those blasted Decepticons hurt them anymore, not even if it costs me my life. But before that, I intend to hit Blaster over his head repeatedly for his stupidity. Honestly, does anyone listen to me?!
Prowl’s so agitated, he seems scared, uneasy, but judging on how aggressively he’s driving- I can tell he’s angry. I don’t blame him; this is the second time Jazz has been taken and probably tortured… I wonder is Prowl’s anger is directed and Barricade or Jazz. Either way- I’ll gladly hit the one that Prowl doesn’t beat. Stupid Porsche, foolish Decepticons; Sunstreaker is absolutely radiating bloodlust for his taken brother. This time; I won’t attempt to stop his rampage.
I hope you’re alright, guys.
---
He stared at the silver rod protruding from his chest; not in his spark chamber, but damn well near enough to cause the pain to wash over his entire being. Not to say that the numerous gashes (especially the large chunk of his leg missing) didn’t paralyze him with agony. His wrists and legs bled horribly from the amount of thrashing he had done against his bindings- making his limbs eventually feel stiff and heavy. He kept his head down even though Starscream had left to go torment Sideswipe hours ago.
Inferno could take physical torture; he had gone through it many a time to have it any effect on him. It was the mental torture that made him want to just scream. Starscream had made it his personal mission to make him suffer by smearing his poisonous slander about Red Alert and himself. The seeker had started by informing Inferno that a team of six Autobots were fast approaching the base and among them- Red. Starscream then proceeded to convince him that Red Alert was going to be his reward for his hard work with Jazz- whom he had said was on the very brink of death but Barricade refused to kill him until Prowl was there to watch, that he would make Red Alert his slave and make him scream so loud Primus himself would hear. He then began to twirl a tale of different tortures he would perform on Red all the while torturing him.
He spoke of ripping off Red’s armor, piece by painful piece, while using an energon knife to cut and slice his armor and face. The seeker even being so twisted as to jam that rod into his chest and use his own hands to cut Inferno as he pretty much sang of how Red would be his, how they would bond on his grave. That’s all that Inferno was focused on at the time; not the agonizing torment of the feeling of warm blood trickling down every part of his being- no, the words, the horrible words that he could not escape was all that rang in his processor. And at that point, all he wanted to do was cut out the Seeker’s vocalizer to make the words go away. Needless to say; it scared him. Not only the thought of Red Alert being Starscream’s plaything but also the vision of Jazz dying before his bondmate saved him. Inferno hadn’t seen it when the saboteur had been brought back from a run-in with Barricade. But from what he had heard from the others who had rescued them; it was like Jazz had been thrown in the middle of a demolition derby and then thrown to the Earth from the atmosphere. Some grimly joked that a mech like that would look a lot better than how Jazz appeared when Ratchet was screaming to everyone to move out of his way and for Perceptor and Wheeljack to assist him as soon as they finished repairing Prowl and the others.
And now it was all happening again. Inferno snorted; if Prowl didn’t kill Barricade for what he’s done to Jazz and Red Alert got harmed- he would more than gladly do the job for him.
Damn, it was too quiet! The seekers had taken Smokescreen and Sideswipe away after they had arrived and received a few wounds. He had yet to see Jazz, Blaster, or Ratchet. Or the mysterious Barricade. It was beginning to annoy him; the fact that he was helpless and vulnerable while others were dying slowly and his bonded was waltzing into a trap. Another thing Starscream had told him was that Barricade had anticipated yet another rescue that would more than likely involve Prowl; and that would be expected and easy to counter. He wanted out! He wanted to find that cowardly seeker and bash his head in- then track down his friends, get out of there, meet the others and go home to a nice, soft berth. This sitting thing was killing his spinal system.
Inferno at least wanted something to happen so he would know what was going on, not just sit in the dark and only guess. But as far as he knew, the next thing that was going to happen was Prowl and the others arrival. He just prayed to Primus that no harm would come to them, that it would all work out, that they all would be safe soon.
Until then, he could only wait in shadows and hurt.
---
Don’ think Ah’ve ever seen Prowl like this b’fore; real desperate an nerv’s- he’s always been that calm one in our group, the root of sanity for us. Always been quiet n’ stubborn, that guy, but that kinda died when Jazz came inta the picture for him. Guess it just struck ‘im one day- must’ve seen Jazz as the prettiest damn thing in the world, but that’s how it is with love- t’s struck meh twice now, so Ah should know. First with Chromia and then with Ratch. Ah know what Prowl’s goin’ through, though; went through it myself when Ah went lookin’ for Chromia. Ah just hope he don’ have to through the loss Ah went through when Ah found her dead at my feet. Course there’s no way in the pit that anyone could replace her, Ah know she wouldn’t want me to just mope about and cry like a sparkling missin’ it’s toy. So, with my buddies help, Ah coped the best Ah could an’ a lil while later- cupid stuck me, as the humans say. N’ me an Ratchet’ve been together since.
Though somethin’ in my tanks just tells me that if Prowl loses Jazz, he won’ be so lucky. Not that he prolly couldn’t find someone else; but the fact is, Ah don’ think he’s one of them people who can go on after a bonded dies. Ah’m afraid he’s gonna off himself or somethin…
Hmph, that Jazz, Sure do miss the lil’ fella. Ah c’n recall when he was just a sparklin’ – always a ball of endless energy, never figured out where it all came from. Still can’t either, but ‘is liveliness was prolly one a the things Prowl liked about him. Ah’ll admit, that kid grew on me, Ah’m always glad Jazz’d picked our group to work under. Sorta figured he would though- since Prime looked after the lil guy ever since he found him as a baby, was only right for ‘im to try and make Prime proud. An Ah know from experience that Optimus loves Jazz, even if he always made it clear he wasn’t ‘is father. The way he’d protect ‘im as a sparklin’, or how he taught him to read and write (as ev’ry parent does for their kid) or even that time Jazz came back all bloody like an’ Prime exploded all over our tactic’s guy. Can’t say Ah feel sorray for the guy, (Ah even slugged him good once we were outta there, but then again, so did Ratch)
But no matter what, Prime’s always been there for Jazz, heck Ah don’ even think he’d care if Jazz had become a ‘Con, he’d still be so proud. An now that lil sparklin’ of ours’s in trouble, so’s my bonded and a lot of good mechs an Ah’ll be damned to the pit b’fore I let those Decepticreeps get their way an hurt ‘em. Ah just hope Prime can fergive me for goin’ against him like this. But Ah can’t stand back an do nothin’ while people Ah care about are bein’ hurt, no way. An you can bet Ah’ll go through an army of Con’s to get em back.
We’re on our way guys; just hang on a lil longer.
---
He lay on the floor bleeding; next to him- Blaster, long since passed out from blood loss. The stereo, as Communications Specialist, was not made for battle, thus- his self-repair system was not as active as Ratchet’s was. As a medic, his preservation unit worked constantly to mend his wounds the best it could; it was some thing that all medics had, since they were meant to be able to heal on the battle field- their bodies could heal faster than soldier mechs.
Nevertheless, he was still in agony, Blaster may have had more wounds, but his were deeper; wider- his wrenched arm still ached and throbbed. Ratchet was at least grateful that Blaster had managed to remove that collar that had been choking him, but fear plagued him- fear for Blaster’s rampant loss of Energon and for Jazz, who had been taken hours before and had yet to return. He remembered when Jazz had been brought to him after that last run in he had had with Barricade; broken, dazed, dripping blood, his internals hanging out, and his optics split open on top of numerous other wounds and gashes. He had thought, for the second time in his life, that Jazz would not live. But he probably should have realized that Jazz would never die so easily; he was tough and strong like his caretakers. Prowl hadn’t thought so, he had thought Jazz would die and there was nothing anyone could do.
Ratchet sighed; he heard a pained groan and placed a hand on Blaster’s helm.
They needed help- and quickly; if Jazz was not already dead then he would soon be and he and Blaster weren’t far behind him. He knew Optimus hadn’t forsaken them- Skywarp had jeered at him last time he had been in the torture room that more Autobots had arrived to try and find them. Inferno, Sideswipe, and Smokescreen.
Now (as far as he knew) there were six Autobots there; if that wasn’t a call for a charge into D-con territory, he didn’t know what was. But then Thundercracker came in to join his wingmate’s pleasure and so kindly informed him that another group of six Autobots were on their way. After the seekers had their fun and left him with another aching body, he began to wonder what in the pit Prime was hoping to accomplish by sending a mere six Autobots. Was it a distraction? A trap? The Decepticons hadn’t bothered to say which Autobots they were, but Ratchet could already guess a few; Sunstreaker most definitely was there, Prowl, maybe Ironhide and Red? He had no idea about the other two. He just hoped that whoever they were that they would release them all; they needed to get Blaster and Jazz repaired before they ended up dead. Ratchet knew he’d be dead soon as well- but he’d last a little longer than the others. Longer meaning more torture and pain.
He grunted as he shifted position, sitting up when there was a large section of his middle, as he was finding out, was quite uncomfortable. He would have stayed lying down, but the cold was making his wounds throb even more. Ratchet’s body was slowly turning pink from all his blood. His head wound was bothering him the most as his eye flickered on and off and his lip components continuously bled, making the taste of Energon fall into his mouth.
It was awful, Ratchet wanted; needed, to help his comrades- but had no such tools, space, or supplies to do so
The waiting was killing him, and the others. All he could do was wait for help to arrive.
---
Why? Why does Barricade want me so badly? Why would he want me? I’m nothing special! Yet, here he is; hurting others to get to me. It isn’t fair- am I not supposed to have anything? It seems like Primus cursed me before I was even sparked and now my curse, Barricade, has decided to cause me more pain in the form of torturing my loved ones. But why?! Jazz, the others, they have never done a thing! Why does Barricade feel the need to rule my life? I’m bringing the others into danger- that’s all I can do, that’s all I’ve ever been able to do. If things don’t go according to plan- Jazz will die, they’ll all die because of me.
Damn my family for their ideal on breeding! Damn them for selling me to Barricade! Damn HIM for making my life miserable! It isn’t fair, why can’t he accept that I’ll never love him again? He changed so much since Cybertron, he was twisted before- but now, now he’s deranged, mad, psychotic…
Everything I have, he feels the need to take away; my family, my home, my sparkling, my dignity and self-respect. And now, my bondmate. This is twice now Barricade has abducted Jazz; twice he’s used Jazz to lure me in. I don’t know what to do; he won’t stop unless he’s dead, but I can’t kill him, I’m an Autobot. Even if I were to get retribution for all he’s done to me, Jazz, and the others, I would have forsaken everything that I hold dear. Not only that, but he still has power over me and I know it- every time I look into his optics, I feel a part of me losing itself. It’s because I know I’ll never be able to best him, not when he holds all the cards like this. I’m so weak; I can’t even defend myself against him, last time Jazz had to do it and now he’s nearly blind because of it. I hate this, I hate the fact that, until he’s dead, Barricade will never leave me alone.
I don’t understand it but I suppose I don’t have to; all I have to know is how to get Jazz and the others back. That’s my only concern, my only goal. But I know Barricade’s waiting for me- he wouldn’t have taken all these Autobots NOT to be expecting me to come and get them back. I don’t know if that makes it easier of harder. Even if he is waiting, even if it takes me years, I will get revenge. For Jazz, for my sparkling, for all the Autobots he’s hurt, and for myself.
The only question is HOW?
He can use the captured as hostages. Can shoot us down out here and keep them as trophies, or capture all of us and use us to get Optimus to pay ransom. 12 Autobots would amount to a lot of Energon if the Decepticons had anything to say about it. I know that this situation that I’m putting us in is one where the Con’s control everything, including our lives. The others have faith in me to get their loved ones back; I hope they’ll still have faith in me after my plan to get into the Decepticon base works. I hope they trust me afterwards. I tried to convince them not to come, but I wanted to find Jazz so badly, I didn’t have time to keep denying their pleads. But I guess that the captured will need help seeing how they are probably heavily injured and unable to move well on their own. I just pray they aren’t too far gone for us to save them.
Oh, Primus, I’m just making myself nervous!
But the thought of Jazz being dead – the thought of ANY of them lying cold on the floor with Barricade standing over them, laughing. None of them would forgive me; I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. I already can’t, not after what that twisted mech did to Jazz because of me.
Barricade wants me. Maybe I can use that to my advantage, I maybe able to convince him to let the others go back to the Ark and get help. If not, I will have to attempt to take him down for good. It’s the others that worry me, they don’t understand what Barricade is capable of- what he’ll do to get what he wants; me. I’ll protect them the best I can, I know what can bend that mad mech. I’m not totally helpless.
My truest and greatest fear is that I have already lost my world.
It won’t be long now, Jazz, just don’t give up!
---
Every cycle of air was laborious; every small movement was pure agony. His tormentor wouldn’t leave him be, constantly doing something that harmed him more.
Jazz couldn’t tell if there was even a place on his body that Barricade hadn’t had a go at yet. What’s more, the black Saleen had found that he liked touching the saboteur, either to cause pain or pleasure- at this rate he couldn’t tell which the Decepticon was meaning to invoke. He wasn’t strapped down anymore but could hardly even move without causing himself too much pain for him to handle. His bloody stump of a hand felt like it was made of stone, his cracked and flickering visor giving him an aching processor, but most of all, the starvation that he felt. Although it paled in comparison to the wounds he bore, the malnourishment was taking its course.
That was still the least amount of Jazz’s problems. He had attempted to contact his bondmate several times trough their link, but it was futile. The Porsche couldn’t tell if it was Barricade’s doing or if Prowl had shut down the bond to try and keep the hurt that Jazz was feeling out. And that, Jazz had to admit, made him feel scared. Was Prowl even concerned?
“Thinking about him, too?” a sickly-sweet voice called from his left. He ignored Barricade, like always, but he knew it wouldn’t stop the officer from doing as he pleased with the Porsche. And that son-of-a-pitspawn always had something inside that twisted mind of his.
Claws trailed up his leg and disappeared before it reached his midsection. “Do you miss him? I know I do. I wonder if he’ll be happy to see me again…” Barricade sang with a smile in his voice. That was bad.
Taking another breath of the cool air, Jazz angled his head to where he guessed the Saleen was. “W-what…do ya…plan o-on doin…to him?” he managed out. His vocalizer was short-circuiting, making his words choked and laced with static. The best he could see of Barricade in the dark was the four red lights shining down at him. The glow between his dim visor and the four, excitement-filled optics made Barricade’s face light up fractionally and made his fangs gleam eerily.
He heard metal shifting, like the black mech was shrugging. “Oh, after our reunion, I plan on making him mine again. Afterwards I think I will dispose of you and your little friends, seeing how I will have already gotten what I want.”
The claws returned and probed gently at his stomach while another set cupped his face to look towards the red optics. “But before then, I should make use of you while I can.”
Jazz’s bruised and bleeding lips were claimed in another harsh kiss, fangs sinking down into wounded flesh; claw tips pricking at delicate wiring inside the open gashes, targeting the uninjured circuits. A heavy weight settled on top of him and Jazz realized that Barricade was straddling him. The Saleen broke his kiss and reared up to tower over the wounded body below. Jazz was repulsed and sickened by the though of just letting Barricade have his way with him, actually longing for the pain of his knife over this humiliation. Quickly thinking of a distraction to get the Decepticon, he gave it a go- “Why are ya…doin this?” Jazz quivered, only able to make his voice slightly more refined.
Barricade cocked his head, looking down at his confused, like it had been very obvious all the time. “Prowl was promised to me, I expect to have him.”
Oh right, Prowl’s creators. Jazz hoped they were rotting in the pit for all they had done.
“He ain’t a noble anymore… his creator’s wishes ain’t his own.”
Barricade snarled. “Regardless, he’s mine! I paid for him, he belongs to me!” His fangs glinted in the red light as his optics lit up again.
Jazz stayed determined, not only to keep Barricade distracted but to also make his argument about his bonded. “The mech’s…got a right to chose… who he wants; ya can’t take that from him!” It was harder to cycle air with the Saleen sitting on him- even though the black mech was careful not to aggravate any wounds.
But he hadn’t believed his audios when he heard- “You’re right. I most certainly cannot.” His snarl was replaced with a sadistic smile. “But he chose me before you.”
It was Jazz’s turn to be angry. “Prowl wasn’t given a choice then, he chose ME over you because of what you did to him!”
“Exactly.”
Jazz would have shaken his head to see if his audios were functioning right if he could. He looked Barricade in the optics. “Aside from you and I, Porsche, what experiences in love does Prowl have?” He asked mockingly.
Jazz knew what Barricade was getting at. He was saying that Prowl only thought he loved Jazz because he hadn’t experienced many other mechs who liked him back. It was a cruel statement to say the least, but none the less true.
He could only whisper, “He never loved you…”
Barricade lowered himself to kiss Jazz’s brow and murmur against the plating, “And he can’t tell if he really loves you…”
That one little statement felt like a bomb exploding inside of him, because deep inside, he knew it was true. Prowl could have thought he loved Jazz simply for the fact that he knew no other love; no other person who cared. It made him want to scream- the thought of his bondmate, the one person he cared for above all else, figuring out that he didn’t really love Jazz after all, that it was just some delusion that he had fooled himself with.
Barricade had begun touching him again, but Jazz couldn’t feel anything. He was numb. He just wanted to wake up and have all of this be a nightmare, but most of all, he wanted to know: Did Prowl actually love him?
Something inside him told him that if the Datsun shared no true feelings, then it wasn’t worth it. Maybe he should just die.
It was his last thought before he closed his optics and fell into recharge. This time; wondering if he even wanted to wake up.