Summary: It's the most precious thing in his world now. He feels no shame for wasting it.
A/N: So my computer crashed. That's not an excuse, there was a huge chunk of time before that happened that I totally could have spent writing but didn't. I just thought you'd like to know that my computer crashed and my autocorrect went with it. So I've got no way to check spelling other than my own (often faulty) mental check system.
Warnings! nudity, graphic violence, gore
Disclaimer: I'm pretty sure Hasboro (or some other such toy company) owns the characters but Michael Bay owns the universe that I sort of... drifted away from. The point is I don't own any of it.
Rebellions are few and far between. It's a loosing battle, they know, but being made martyrs for a lost cause is better than life as a slave. At least, that's what Sam believes they must think.
There's no other reason he can come up with that explains such insane stupidity.
She shrieks in horror and pain as Starscream pulls off her left leg. Sam watches as, as if in slow motion, the skin pulls taunt and hears the joints in her ankle pop. He has seen Starscream in battle and knows the Decepticon's power. He could do this much faster but there are more obedient slaves watching from the other side of the fence. The rebel is being made an example of.
The woman howls like an animal as the joints stretch and dislocate, her left leg now only held in place by tendon, muscle and skin. He watches the skin slowly seperate, pulling apart in tiger stripe sections of brown and red.
Megatron, laughing raucously, sets Sam on the ground where he can see so much the better as blood wells and tendons snap.
A Preda-con with a screaming man in its jaws comes to stand at Megatron's side and watch the woman's tortuous and slow death. Sam hears his blood rushing in his ears but blessedly little else. He glances down at his hands but can't feel them shaking.
"Watch Fleshling," he registers Megatron's gravely tone and looks up to see the leg pulled free. The woman's mouth is wide and her face screwed up with pain but Sam doesn't hear her. He can't tell if he's somehow blocked it out or if she has screamed herself mute. Beside them the Preda-con bites down hard.
Sam hears the crunch of bones and feels a hot wet splatter against his skin but he doesn't look.
If he doesn't look, then maybe it's not really there.
Clean, fresh water was a rarity. What Sam drank was often dirty but he suspected that it was presented to him that way on purpose.
Megatron doesn't like his pet being splattered with the innards of the rebels. It amused him for a short while, long enough for the red stains to dry on Sam's skin and in his hair, but the amusement was fleeting and quickly replaced with distaste.
The large vat of water was probably the only safe source for the slaves working in the compound to get water from.
Sam was very dirty because the only time it was deemed necessary that he be clean was when Hook wanted the human to be sterile for experimentation and that consisted of being doused in what Sam suspected was rubbing alcohol and being roughly dried off.
The rush of water in his ears clears out the sound of screams. He sinks and takes a deep breath, sucking cold, sweet water into his chest.
Then, slowly, he rises again and without meaning to his legs kick. He remembers to swim. At the surface he coughs and hacks and listens to Runamuck lament his bad luck to be stuck with Megatron's stupid pet.
The once clear water is tinted faintly pink by the time the decepticon lifts him out of the water but Sam is clean.
Or at least as clean as he ever could be.
Later, wrapped in a blanket and draped over Bumblebee's lap he feels the 'bot tap him on the shoulder.
What happened? comes the question asked gently, but unconcerned. Sam was not acting hurt or frightened, so why should the 'bot worry the worst? The finger touched his hair. Why are you wet?
Sam thought about the woman. He thought about the glazed look in her eyes as blood flowed from the places where she should have had limbs. Thought of her last shuttering breath taken through a mouth still opened wide as if to scream.
He thought of a an arm stretched out from the metalic jaws of a tiger, fingers literally dripping with blood, asking him of all people for help. Thought of the wet, mewling noises that came after the crunch and the splash of hot red against his face.
He thought of Megatron's hard metal finger pressing against his chest, rubbing that red stain deeper into his skin as the master pet his slave.
"I went swimming."