This is totally, entirely unrelated to anything I've ever written. I still don't know how I got the idea for this oneshot, but it was there, so I wrote it. Pretty much everything bad is implied, but I've rated it M just in case.
Much thanks to Crooked for beta-ing this (is 'beta-ing' even a word? Oh well, whatever...) .:huggles:.
I only own the stuff that comes out of my own crazed mind. (Sucks, don't it??)
Bumblebee lay in the aftermath of the latest terrible battle between the Autobots and Decepticons. It was a turning point in the war; for the first time, the Allspark was not in the possession of either side.
It was also a turning point for Bumblebee.
He had led the contingent that hid the Allspark until Optimus could launch it into space, and he had let himself be captured by Megatron to buy time.
He'd been prepared for the pain that he was sure would come. "Megatron" was pretty much a synonym for "suffering". And indeed, Bumblebee had been hurt quite badly. But he'd managed to hold out and not give anything away as he had been dealt blow after blow by those terrible claws.
He had definitely not been prepared for when the claws suddenly became tender and soothing, gently stroking his chest. It threw him off completely. He could only tremble in fear and… something else as Megatron gently lifted him.
"Come now, youngling," Megatron said softly, as though comforting a sparkling with a nightmare. "Just tell me what I want to know, and I can take all this pain away."
"N-no…" Bumblebee moaned, even as the claws continued to travel up and down his back. It felt nice, but he knew better than to trust Megatron. Any bot that was foolish enough to do so was either dead or a Decepticon, or both.
Megatron seemed undeterred by the scout's refusal to tell him anything. He laid Bumblebee on the ground, still stroking him gently.
Then the huge silver mech opened his chest plates.
"Ohh, no…" Bumblebee whispered, trying to get to his feet and get away, but he was too injured to do even that. "No, no, no, no, no, no, noooooo…"
When Megatron had left, Bumblebee lay there for a long time, trembling. What had happened to him? What had Megatron done to him?
And what would Optimus think of him?
Bumblebee's processor froze at that. If Optimus ever found out… he would never be able to so much as look at another Autobot again. Shame pressed down on him like an oppressive blanket, like Megatron's- he quickly stopped that line of thinking. How was he going to explain this?
He could never lie to Optimus. Ever. He couldn't even bring himself to seriously consider the possibility. He just looked up to Prime too much. If Optimus asked, he would have to answer.
But he could never, ever tell Optimus the truth about what had happened.
So where did that leave him?
If Optimus asked, he would have to answer.
But what if he couldn't answer?
Bumblebee forced himself to roll over and get onto his hands and knees. He crawled over to a pile of wreckage, searching for the right tool for the job.
At last he found what he was looking for.
He pulled a piece of metal out of the debris. It had once been a support beam, but the intense heat from some blast or another had melted it partially, and it now had a sharp point at one end. Bumblebee gripped the blunt end and dug the point into his own throat.
The pain was terrible, but Bumblebee welcomed it. It took his mind off of what had happened. He maneuvered the end of the beam around in the delicate machinery until he had it pressed against his vocalizer. Then he braced himself and jerked.
The sharp metal point punctured the casing and ripped through the component, severing fuel lines as it went and setting off a fresh wave of agony. Bumblebee squealed in pain- but made no sound.
He was mute.
Satisfied, Bumblebee pulled out the metal shard and tossed it away before he collapsed on the ground, close to stasis lock.
Now his secret was safe. Optimus and the others would never know. By the time he would be able to talk again, nobody would have the indiscretion to ask him what happened. They would simply assume that Megatron had beaten him, and Bumblebee would never have to tell anybody what the silver mech had really done to him.
And he would especially never have to tell anybody that he had enjoyed it.
Please review. Even if it's just to tell me that it was creepy as hell. I know, because I creeped myself out by writing this. .:runs away to fluffy plot bunnies:.