Title: You Are Mine
Characters: Ratchet, Megatron
Summary: For the prompt from tf_rare_pairing: IDW – Megatron/Ratchet – "Even if you try to leave, you are still mine."
Warnings: non-graphic torture.
The heavy steps moved across the floor, and Ratchet gave passing thought to the idea that if he always had that heavy a tread, he must spend a lot of time fixing the joints in his legs, because they were not built to take that heavy punishment. Then he chastised himself for using such thoughts to distract himself from his reality.
A heavy hand grasped his chin, turning his face to examine it. The chains keeping him here rattled as they were unfastened and he was hauled to his peds. They walked into the cleanser and Ratchet was scrubbed down, feeling the filth of the orn washed away by the solvents. The touches started heavy and impersonal but became lighter and much more personal as he grew cleaner. Clenching his denta, Ratchet withstood the forced intimacy as best he could.
The heavy hands pulled him out from under the spray and dried him, then guided him to the berth and laid him down. Muffled sounds indicated waxes, clothes and polishes being pulled out, then the hands began to rub over his plating, adding a sheen to his plating that he could no longer see.
Megatron leaned over him and said, "Why did you try to leave? I don't want to take away your optics or chain you to the wall. You force me to do these things when you try to escape, Ratchet."
Ratchet turned his blind optics toward the voice that haunted him. "I will always try to leave, Megatron. I am a prisoner; it is my duty to escape you."
Megatron snarled, rubbing at Ratchet's plating fiercely. "You will always be mine, Ratchet."
Ratchet suddenly felt all his motor control leave him as Megatron did something near his neck. He couldn't move, he couldn't speak, he could do nothing.
Megatron leaned close and whispered in his audio receptor, "I shall put you behind my throne as a visible reminder to everyone that what is mine, I keep, no matter how I have to do it."
He kissed Ratchet's cheek, then scooped up his body.
Ratchet hung in his own mind, screaming, as Megatron carried him out of his berth room and into his throne room, the large room echoing with the tyrant's heavy footsteps. He felt his body being arranged, propped up against a wall.
Megatron leaned close and whispered, "Where is your Prime, now? Who will rescue you?"
In his own mind, Ratchet asked himself the same questions. Would he ever escape this life? Or was he doomed to some sort of eternity as Megatron's resident toy?