Transformers Prime: Oneshot for Pixel

AN: Here is another Oneshot for my bestest bestie here on - Pixel. She got the idea for Tarn, and here is the inspiration I got from it. I hope you like it sweety!

There was an eerie silence in the Decepticon Energon mine. A pin could be heard dropping in the vastness of tunnels burrowing under the earth. The calm before the storm.

This silence is shattered by a shriek of unbearable pain, the high pitch cry would've caused all the workers in the caves to cringe and wince. But not Tarn, the leader of Megatron's Decepticon Justice Division; he stood before a large door separating the rest of the mine from the large cavern. He purred at the sound and gleamed as he saw the vehicons flinching at the sound as they walked by him.

Oh how he wanted to pull the sweetest sounds from their victim, a Decepticon deserter who had the gall to turn to the Autobots in the middle of their war. He had allowed his team to go in first and cause as much pain to the little femme before he got his servos on her, that way he wouldn't have to deal with any whining for not having a go. He wanted to ensure she was all his.

His. That was something that had been on his processor when he had first met her. His addiction for transforming had warranted countless visits to Knockout, Scalpel and Hook to have his cog removed and replaced, all 3 warning the enthralled mech to provide his own cogs as they refused to keep stock anymore. He had come in to have his cog changed when…she entered his existence.

She was a tiny femme. But he liked petit. Her blazing red frame, so innocent, and her golden smouldering optics were like blazing suns. Her movements and strides showed her confidence, as she seemed to glide and even dance around the medic bay. He had merely thought she was another weak femme easily bent over his knee but his impression was turned around when she snapped at Knockout and landing a well-placed wrench throw at Breakdown's helm – she had spunk.

The way her small servos glided over his frame made him shiver. But he shouldn't feel like this! He was devoted to his leader and his cause but this femme…this meagre, tiny medic caused his spark to flutter. Even after he left and continued on with his existence, his kills and missions seemed to have lost their lustre, all because this single femme was not at his side.

He had crossed the galaxy to find her, tearing through each and every traitor, making more of a name and reputation for himself to prove his worthiness and vigour to woo said femme. But in a fire-fight against the rebelling Autobots, deep in the trenches he found her…kissing the enemy,

It made his spark burn; seeing her kiss not just an Autobot, but Optimus Prime himself. Jealously and anger raised its ugly head as it gripped his spark but there was a semblance of hope when she was frightened away by the waking prime. After the battle, he could recall with great detail how he approached her, revealing his knowledge of what she did. He smirked at her reaction to his witnessing and begged him to hold his glossa, such a tempting mistress she was.

When he gave her his terms, believing he would win her over and teach her to love him, he received a very different response; she grew angry, never diminishing in beauty, and cursed him for even considering such an idea – her loving him, giving such a sick and depraved creature her spark.

He had not seen her in millennia after that and his anger grew; how dare she reject him and yet her refusal only pushed him. He continued to woo, lavish, threaten and demand her love and she would time and again refuse him, turning away and pushing back.

The moment the call from his master came through, instructing to make an example of her, he was given a most fortuitous opportunity; if she was still as determined to live in place of death then he might just have what he needs to bring her to him, to make her his forever. He had some sway with Megatron and could easily convince their leader to allow him to keep her.

The bolted door behind him whirred open and his satisfied comrades exited the chamber. Each one had either a blank expression or a content smirk,

"All yours Tarn. She's still got some voice in her," Tesarus smirked, looking back at their handy work before stepping away for Tarn to look in.

Lying limply like a rag doll; the ground, walls and even patches on the ceiling were splattered with spilt energon. Scraps and crumpled pieces of her once glistening red armor were scattered and disseminated across the chamber, leaving her protoform exposed and bleeding. Cuts, scratches, gashes and gapping wounds decorated her defiled and broken body; he noticed his team had restrained themselves enough to keep her whole, all her limps were intact if only just.

Her left arm had been popped from its socket and hung only by the few cables still intact. Her leg struts were bend and bowed, twisted and mangled when she tried to run from Tesarus, seeing the impressions of where his turbine had slowly crushed her dainty pedes. Her right arm was completely melted, set in a bend shape that was no doubt Helex work, especially when the other patches of her protoform shell that had melted to reveal the delicate workings within. Sparks weakly licked and flickered across her frame from Kaon's shock therapy, no doubt magnetising parts of her metallic flesh from the room of her arms.

But the pièce de résistance, was no doubt styled by the eloquently spoken Vos; her tantalising chest plates had been ripped from her spark casing, leaving the shivering mass exposed for all to see, deep gauges sprawled in ancient Cybertronian, the tongue Vos was known to only speak in, branding his little minx his own. 'Tarn, Master and Keeper'.

"Oh how far you have fallen, my dear Blitz," he drawled, a soft echo from an earth song he found perfect for the mood; deep dulcet tone was melancholy but held an air of profound romance and emotion to it. It was perfect. "You were once an aspiring medic, meant for greater things besides your abnormally high successful survival rate. Repairing mechs alike from the more grievous of injuries, bringing an air of tenderness not many proud Decepticons would show," he knelt before the silent femme, knowing fully well she was still living. "But even with all that prestige, all that talent and purpose…you run into the arms of the enemy,"

Ever so carefully, as if she were made of glass, he plucked her from her crumbled seat and held her in his arms. She cried as her bent spinal strut was forced back into place, her twisted and mangled legs hanging limply and barely functional but still registering the blinding pain brought by her injuries. Her melted arm was the only part of her body unable to move from its bent shape.

"I would've given you everything; a strong protector, safe life and a bright future when the Decepticons beat down our Autobot oppressors," he smirked, holding the weeping femme closer, "But you didn't," as if switching settings, he pushed her from him, her legs unable to keep her up as she fell harshly to the ground, jarring her injured left arm, screaming as some of the wires snapped, balling from the pain. Tarn shivered at the sound before crouching over her; cupping her chin and forcing her helm back to look into his ruby optics. He noticed that one of her optics had shattered, revealing the bare components beneath to his lingering gaze,

"You rejected me at every turn; every bid of your affection you casted aside like strap," His servo wrapped gently around her left arm, the mere action promising just what he planned to do,

"N…o….N~o…p-ple…ase," she begged pathetically, her vocaliser hoarse from her constant shouts and screams of pain. Even now he thought her voice was like an angels, but her pleas were left unheard as Tarn crushed the appendage and ripped it free from her frame, a choked scream ripped from her once again,

"Oh your voice…your pain…everything you are and everything you experience is like fine energon to the palette…My heaven…your hell," he growled, stepping back to pulled her up from the ground and held close to his frame, pressing her abused frame tightly to his own and causing only more pain to her, "But I can end it…all the pain…I can stop it…just accept me,"

His voice had fallen into step with her flickering spark, she could feel it; each lingering tone synchronised with her racing spark beat. His talent had always scared her, to kill without lifting a finger or even touching another bot. The simple modulation of his voice bringing death in its wake. "Become mine and live," he ordered, holding her tighter, tight enough to split her frame further, opening wounds and reopening other healed wounds. She hissed and tried to suppress her screams,

"N…Ne…ver…" she gaped, no matter how much it hurt, no matter how much her spark had yearned to see Optimus once more time before she returned to the well, she wouldn't give this monster the satisfaction of taking her,

"Pity. I believe you could've loved this monster," he sighed, his tone dropping slightly, causing her spark to respond against she will, "If I can't have you, mind body and spark, than neither will Optimus," his tone continued to drop as did her spark pulse, "Once your beautiful spark fades from this world," his servo circled her chassis and toyed with the beating mass, causing her to limply squirm from his touch, "I had considered ripping your frame into so many pieces, Prime would never be able to put you back together. I'd rip your beautiful faceplate and keep it with me always," he purred, lowering his voice again and feeling her spark following blindly, "But no, I won't let them take you. Your spark may depart, but your body with be mine. I'll patch you up, keep you in good condition, and I'll never let the world see you again…your mine…mine,"

This was it. He hit that pitch. That sweet tone that all mechs had given out on. Her spark would be no different, he could feel it weaken, flicker ever so slightly, her intakes cycling on…last…time…

But it was a loud crash that forced Tarn to release his prize. The force of the shot flung him clear across the cavern. Dazed a moment, he didn't realise what had happened until a few moments later. His optics lazily came back online, only to narrow in pure rage as he emerged from the smoke.

Optimus Prime. And in his arms was the battered but alive Blitz. He had collected her arm from nearby and raised his gun to Tarn. Rage flickering wildly in his blue optics. Tarn remained where he was, ready fire at the right moment but he cursed himself when another explosion caught his attention, a split second later Optimus shot down the rock formations on the ceiling, pinning the discipline officer beneath them and allowing him time to flee with Blitz in hand.

No! He had wait! Waited far too long to just let her go! If he couldn't have her, no one will!

Tarn roared as he broke free from the stones, eyes blazing with unparalleled rage. He would get Prime for this, killing him slowly and was extreme prejudice. And Blitz, he'll force her to watch. Watch as he picked the prime apart piece by slagging piece, leaving nothing but his metal shavings scattered to the stars. Then he'll take her, take everything that gives her strength – friends, family, every single being with any worth in her life with die until only he remains, until he is the only being she will hold to her.

Then…only then will he kill her.