I'll Protect you
This was based of a couple of drawings I saw over on DA by Zarak324. One called Caged and the other called Trapped. I liked them so much I decided to write this here lil oneshot based on my fav G1 pairing! Warning! Violence, Torture with a lil mech fluff...sort of.
Caged. That was what had happened to both him and the mech he promised to protect. The pair of them thrown into a box shaped room that gave off a bad omen of dread. Energon blood stains covered the walls to show just how friendly their captors were. Trapped behind bars of burning energy that would tear them apart if they so much as touched them. All alone and far away from the comfort of their friends and allies. Far from home. Trapped and all alone. Not sure when help would arrive. Not even sure how much time had passed since they were imprisoned. He looked around in his prison trying to find a weak spot in this dark and cold cell but found nothing. There was no escape. There was no way out. There was no hope. They were trapped.
How did this happen? He was always caucious on the battlefield. Always looking out for where the Decepticons were and what they were doing. Making sure he wouldn't get caught off guard. Observing their tactics so that he may gain vital knowledge for future battles. After fighting them for nearly nine million stellar cycles he had always used this tactic to ensure his own safety and the safety of others. There were times when he got a few scratches and dents but they were nothing compared to the wounds he had repaired when his allies had been greatly injured. So how did he end up here? How did he get captured by the enemy?
He didn't dare blame him. Looking down at the weakened mech as he tried his best to recharge he sighed deeply. His injuries weren't too great but if he didn't get repaired soon he could be permanently damaged. It had all happened so fast. There he was blasting away at his foes whilst checking where they all were when he heard a loud cry of pain. He recognized the owner of that cry instantly and looked around frantically forgetting where he was. He found him lying face down on the ground and he bore a large gash on the side of his chassis where someone had shot him. He was already bleeding precious Energon and instead of dragging him to safety he tried to fix him right there. That was when he felt the barrel of a blaster being forced against his white helm and an evil cackle of victory.
Now here they were. Prisoners of the enemy and caged like wild animals. He done his best to repair the wound on his friend but his tools had been taken from him. He let out a frustrated cry as he slid down against the wall near his injured friend. Some medic he was. Back before the war he had a mentor who could repair a mech with a missing limb with no tools at all. His allies believed he was the greatest medic who ever lived. They were so wrong. He was no medic. Without his tools he was just a worthless machine. Without his tools he was nothing and now his friend was going to offline if he didn't help him soon.
He tried to think of other things to keep himslef calm. Like what he would say to Prowl for taking so dam long to rescue them. How many wrentches he was going to throw at the twins until his stress was relieved. How many cubes of high grade Energon he was going to drink with his friend once they got better. How he was going to scold him after blowing himself up again. Even though these thoughts offered some form of comfort it didn't help the fact that his friend was lying there with an injury he couldn't fix. He could only hope that someone would come soon...anyone.
He checked his friend to make sure he was still OK. This mech was so important to him. They had met when they were younger and grew up together. He became a medic whilst his friend became an Engineer. When the war started they worked together to help win the terrible battle for the Autobot cause. As time went on he found his company to be very enjoyable and couldn't imagine a life without him. There were times when he got angry at him but that just made the life they shared together more worth while. He had become very fond of him. He wasn't sure if it was love or not but he did know that he loved him more than any other friend he had. Now here they were together trapped within the Decepticon base and he was badly injured. Looking up towards the ceiling he tried to think of something that would make the time fly.
He wasn't such a big Primus follower like many a few of the Autobots he knew. Even though many medics he knew were huge Primus believers he stated that he didn't believe in something he had never seen before. Sometimes when he was watching the recovering mechs in his med bay he could hear them quietly praying to Primus for them to get better. In the end he would come over and tell them that it wasn't Primus who saved them but himself. He was the one who welded them back together, not Primus. He was the one who fixed their crashed CPU's, not Primus. He was the one who kept their Spark's on line, not Primus. But now as he sat there in this dark and cold cell he found himself wondering if Primus could hear him. If he could he only wished that his friend would survive this ordeal until their allies arrived to take them home. If he did he would never bad mouth him again.
The weakened mech made a small yelp of pain but did nothing else. He did that every now and then but it was starting to worry the medic. He hated seeing others in pain and could do nothing about it. He had tried to make him as comfortable as he could but this prison offered such little comfort. He kept telling himself that he wasn't going to die. He may be bleeding but it wasn't enough to kill him. He quietly promised him that as soon as they returned to their base he would repair him straight away before allowing Hoist and Grapple to repair himself. That was all he could do for him. The only thing thing he could do now was count the clicks that passed by hoping that something would happen soon.
Time ticked on. It felt like eternity had passed and at one point he thought time itself had forgotten all about them. Then at long last he heard footfalls from outside their cell and they were coming closer. He was scared but at the same time relived that someone was coming to check on them. Hopefully he could beg them to give him back his tools so that he could repair his friends. They may be Decepticons but even they would show some small amount of pity towards them. He sat there calmly as he waited for their captors to arrive. It didn't take them too long and the moment he saw them he realized that they weren't just here to check on them.
The Combaticons. The Decepticon's most twisted group of soldiers who enjoyed the sounds of screams from their victims and bathed in the Energon blood that they themselves caused to bleed. Eons ago they had become so dangerous that Megatron had ordered them to be locked away. In the medic's opinion it was the smartest thing the Decepticon leader had ever done. However as time passed Starscream released them from their prison and tried to force them to work for him. It didn't work out and in the end they became Megatron's loyal dogs once more. The Autobots were extremely cautious around them and even Ironhide was afraid of their twisted forms of attack. Now here they were at their mercy.
They powered down the cell and walked in. Their dark ruby red optics studied the pair of Autobots that laid before them. The medic felt a chill in his Spark as one of them stared down at his injured friend and kicked him roughly. The Combaticon laughed coldly and kicked him again...harder. The medic suddenly stood up and tried to stop him but a pair of hands grabbed him and he was suddenly held against the Energon stained walls, his feet barely touching the ground and a death like grip forced around his throat. He could only stare back as the leader of the Combaticons, Onslaught, stared back at him whilst shaking a finger to and fro infront of his face.
'Now, now little Autobot medic. We only came here for payback. You should thank Primus however that it is not you who we came to see.'
The medic's optics widened with horror and he looked towards his injured friend. He was in no fit state to withstand a brutal torture from these monsters. He tried to say something but the hand on his throat was preventing him to do so. He tried to struggle to get free but not even he could fight against the strength that held him. It was painful to watch as Brawl continued to kick at the poor mech in an attempt to wake him up. When a loud but weak moan was heard the Combaticons suddenly all laughed evilly and forced him to his feet.
The medic was horrified to see his friend being forced to stand in such a state. He was still bleeding Energon from his previous wound and the kicks that he had revcieved had badly damaged his back. His optics were flickering on and off as he tried to figure out where he was. The small wings on his back were twitching every now and then. He made small whimpers of pain as he did his best to stand up but something in his legs must of been causing him pain. Something else that the medic failed to see.
Onslaught snarled and let go of the medic, letting him fall to the ground in a heap. He walked over to the weakened mech and growled in a dangerous way. The medic tried to crawl over to stop whatever they were doing but he was kicked away by Swindle every time he got close. What were they going to do to him? He didn't even want to think about it. What had he done to them to get them so riled up like this? Didn't they care that this poor mech was already in great deal of pain. Then again when did they ever care? They were the Decepticons most foul and vile group of soldiers and they loved the sound of pain. Causing harm to someone else was what kept them going. It was their drug and they were addicted to it.
The Combaticon leader towered over the small and injured Autobot. He suddenly grabbed his helm and forced him to look up at him. The medic winced for him as his neck cables were strained beyond their limits. If they were stretched any further they would snap. He tried once again to make his way over there in the hopes that he could somehow stop them but every time he did he was kicked away by one of them. He refused to believe that he couldn't do anything to help his friend but with his current strengh there was no way he was able to do anything. Onslaught sneered down at the weak mech who was powerless to do anything.
'Not too long ago Engineer you invented something that badly wounded Vortex over here. It was an explosive device if you remember. Blew off both his arms. Took forever to repair him. Swindle had to look every where for spare parts. Caused us a lot of work and stress if ya know what I mean.'
The poor mech was unable to answer but the Combaticons didn't seem to care. The only had one thing on their minds and that was to get even. Weren't they already even though? He was badly injured and their prisoner. Wasn't that enough for them? Blast-Off stepped closer and took a firm grip of the poor mech's left arm. Vortex grabbed the right arm. What were they doing? Why were they smiling like that? What was that evil glow in their optics for? It didn't take the medic too long to figure out what they were going to do.
'Please no! Leave him alone! He is no harm to you now! Just let him be!'
The Combaticons ignored him as Onslaught continued.
'Now another Decepticon, who shall remain nameless, has also lost one of his arms because of your little explosive device. Megatron was so very angry and ordered us to go get him some spare parts so that Hook could fix him. I then asked myself where was I going to get spare parts for a damaged arm? Then I remembered you.'
Onslaught then stepped back and both Blast-Off and Vortex tightened their grip on the arms on the injured mech. It was already clear what they were going to do. The medic couldn't bear it. He couldn't bear to see them hurt him like this. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. Once again he tried to intervene but was kicked away once more. Brawl glared down at him and snarled viciously.
'You should consider yourself lucky medic that we're only here for him!'
He'd rather they take him than his injured friend. He would let them do anything to him just as long as they left his dear friend alone. He would allow Unicron to devour him and digest him just so that his friend would live. He would dive head first into a smelting pool for him if he meant he would stay alive. However...he couldn't even stop a group of thugs from torturing him. He could only watch in horror as Onslaught snapped his fingers and with one swift movement Blast-Off and Vortex pulled at the injured mech's arms so hard and fast...they were torn clean off.
The sudden loss of both upper limbs had forced the injured mech to on line his optics and he howled in pain. His scream of agony was so loud it almost short circuited the medic's audios. It was so loud the medic thought that even Shockwave back on Cybertron could hear it. The painful cry was music to the audios of the Combaticons and they laughed as the critically injured mech fell to the floor crying in pain. Ripped circuitry sparked, more Energon began to bleed and his small wings had began to shake violently. He trembled like crazy and the fins on his helm began to glow a dangerous red. And all the medic could do was watch.
The arms that had once been attached to the injured mechs body were given to Swindle who began to tear them open as he ripped out the parts that they needed. The sound of metal being torn almost made the medic sob. Watching him pull out that circuits and parts made him sick to the core. He felt ready to purge his tanks as the Combaticon continued to harvest spare parts from the arms that belonged to his friend. He had began to hope that now they would leave him alone...but the Combaticons believed that the injured mech still deserved more punishment.
The rest of them suddenly surrounded his fallen frame until the medic could no longer see them. Then to the medic's horror they began to violently kick him. They stamped on him, bent down to hit him and kicked him so hard the medic was afraid that they'd kick his head off. The cries. The begging. The whimpers of pain. It was all too much. And what was he doing to prevent it? Nothing. He was just lying there like a helpless little petro-rabbit whilst his dear friend was getting beating to death. The room was filled with the sound of cruel laughter, metal hitting metal and the sound a mech crying out in pain.
How could they laugh whilst they beat him like this? How could they find something like this fun? Why wasn't he doing anything to stop them? He had told himself that he'd let Unicron eat him to save his friend for the love of Primus yet here he was letting them torture him. The cries of pain were all to much. The sound of the beatings and the poundings were just as terrible. Why was he just lying there? Swindle was too busy ripping out the parts they needed from the torn arms to care about what they were doing to the torture mech.
Then just as he was about give up and wait for them to grow tire he heard something. At first he wasn't sure if his audio's were just messing with him but as he looked up he heard it again only louder and clearer. He could no longer hear the sounds of metal hitting metal. He could no longer hear the cold laughter. He could no longer hear the cries of pain. Instead he heard someone call out to him. Someone calling to him. It was like someone had forced a Bond with him and was calling him over with it. It didn't matter how he heard it all that mattered was that he knew where it was coming from and he knew who it was.
It was weak and he almost couldn't make it out but knew that his friend was calling out to him. It was him. It had to be him. He was calling out to him. He needed him. It was almost like he knew that he could help him. Like he trusted him. That him depended him. That he had faith in him. He wasn't just calling out to him in desperation...he was calling out to him because he knew that deep down inside the medic could save him.
It was then that something snapped within the medic. He found himself glaring at the Onslaught who just stood there as he watched his team mates beat the living scrap at his friend. Something within the medic was taking control of him and he eyed the exposed fluid cable on his neck. Every medic knew that puncturing that cable would cause a massive Energon bleed and unless treated right away it could be fatal. He would never do anything like that to cause harm to anyone...not even a Decepticon. He considered it to be low form of attack. But right now it was the only thing that he wanted to do to the Comabticon leader.
Mustering up all his strength and baring his fang like denta's he suddenly got up and pounced like a panther attacking his prey onto Onslaught's back. The Combaticon leader was caught off guard but before he could even figure out what had just happened the medic suddenly bit down hard onto his exposed fluid cable. He howled in pain and tried to throw the medic off but he had his arms wrapped round his helm tight. His cry of pain alerted the other Combaticons and they forgot all about the injured mech.
The medic had bit down so hard he was able to puncture the cable and he was already beginning to taste the bittersweet flavour of the bleeding Energon. Onslaught was lashing out violently and had managed to bash the white helm of the medic a few times. However the medic refused to let go. He wasn't sure how far he bit down but he didn't care at all. As long as they were focused on him and not his dear friend he didn't care. Then he felt a pair of hands grabbed him and he was suddenly thrown off and against the wall. Looking up he saw that the Combaticons had surrounded their leader who was trying to stop the bleeding. Fresh Energon was dripping down his hand and onto the floor. He was snarling and growling as he tried to keep himself calm. Vortex and Brawl began to support him as he stood back up and Lift-Off snarled down at the medic.
'You'll regret this medic! Once we fix him up we're coming back for you!'
He didn't care. Just as long as they just came back for him and not his friend then he didn't care. As they began to leave he looked over to where his friend lay and his Spark almost stopped. His arms were missing, Energon was bleeding out of fresh cuts and dents, his optics were cracked, one of his head fins was hanging by just a few wires from his helm and he was almost covered in his own Energon blood. If it wasn't for the fact that he could still detect his pulsing Spark he would of believed he was dead. Were they just going to leave him like that? As they left the cell he stood back up and tried to chase after them.
'Wait! You can leave him like this! He requires repairs! I need medical tools! Stop! I need my tools!'
They ignored him as they left the cell. The energy bars came back on line stopping the medic from chasing after them. He screamed after them but they never answered back. Soon he found himself alone again in that terrible prison with his badly injured friend. The smell of Energon blood was now fresh and the taste was still fresh in his mouth. He let a sigh of frustration and walked slowly over to where his dear friend was lying. He was forced into a recharge and the Energon was slowly bleeding out of his wounds. His Spark was still pulsing but it was begining to fade slowly but surely.
He knew that the Combaticons would come back to get even with him after Onslaught was repaired. He knew that the Autobots wouldn't be able to come anytime soon. He knew his dear friend wouldn't be able to last at least a few more cycles without proper medical attention. Without his tools he wouldn't be able to fix him. As he sat there looking at him he realized that there was only one thing he could do. Closing up the wounds with his bare hands as best he could he was able to stop most of the bleeding. He then gently opened his chest plates to reveal his faintly pulsing Spark.
He sighed weakly as he opened his own chest plates and began to pull out some life cables. His plan was to give his friend at least half of his Spark energy so that he would be able to survive until the Autobots arrive to rescue them. He wasn't sure if he would survive the beating the Combaticons would give him once they returned but most of his life force would help his dear friend survive a little longer. Then he would be rescued and when he got back to the base First Aid would be able to repair him and he would get better. The medic himself wasn't sure if he was going to survive but until he was sure his friend was safe he would stay alive to keep him functioning.
As he held him with his Energon stained hands in that dark and cold cell he whispered to him quietly.
'...I'll protect you...my dear Wheeljack...I will protect you...'