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Acid Rain	By : ANGELAMDOWNES Category: Transformers > G1 > AU/AR Views: 2992 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers or its characters, and I make no profit off this work.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
Author's Note- Hello this is my first fic of this dark a nature so I would ask that you read the warnings carefully before reading and no flamers please. It's AU so you can imagine it however you want.

This story was partially inspired by Kami Count D's 'Crime and Punishment' fic and I would recommend you all to read it if you have not already (also if you like Starscream/Ironhide as a pairing 'Crime and Punishment's' companion fic 'The Enemy You Know' is also a very enjoyable read) on fanfiction.net.

Unbetaed.

Disclaimer- I do not own Transformers or its characters.

Warnings- Non-con/graphic rape, violence, perhaps some slight gore and mutilation near/at the beginning, there may be consensual slash in later chapters, Transformer swearing, angst, depression, death, trauma, mentions and descriptions of masturbation.

Units of Time:-

Astrosecond- 1 second

Klik- 1 minute

Cycle- 1 hour

Orn- 1 day

Decacycle- 1 week

Meta-cycle- 1 month

Solar cycle- 1 year

Vorn- 1 million years

Italics- Flashbacks/thoughts/memories/link speak.

Bold- Comm speak.

Recognisable lines are borrowed/paraphrased from the 2007-2011 movies, accompanying games and other Transformers media.

I hope you enjoy the chapter and please review.

________________________________________

Acid Rain

Chapter One- Gathering Clouds

It started so finely that the brawling combatants barely noticed the bite of it into their frames, energon-lust blinding many to the growing danger.

However, noticed first by the mechs of the air, it soon began to fall in earnest, extinguishing the sparks of the severely wounded and causing agony even to the uninjured.

Retreat! Decepticons, retreat! Starscream bellowed through the comm lines. Move, move!

The Autobots seemed to be following suit, running from the battlefield with injured comrades slung over their shoulders.

Some damaged Decepticons were lucky to have bonded partners, family members or close friends fighting beside them who picked them up as they fled.

Some, but by no means all.

As the screams following them were lost in the roar of the rain, a Seeker dropped from the sky, his armour lost to the liquid fire and protoform beginning to crumble. His optics searched the sky for his trine but he quickly closed them as drops pounded into the two pools of red, burning them terribly.

Shrieking and flailing, unable to help himself, the young flier was relieved to feel a strong pair of arms wrap around him and a frame shield his against the relentless rainfall.

A few more were lost as they urgently headed for home, the nearest shelter for members of their faction.

They burst inside, engines revving, tanks churning and sparks dancing with relief inside their chambers.

Breathless, metal scraped on metal as they clanged to the floor together in heaps, the doors banging shut behind them to protect them from any more pain or fear.

For all but one.

Starscream landed, vents heaving with exertion, and laid out his charge on the floor.

The half-blinded mech stared up at him in shock, 'Air Commander…'

The older Seeker nodded and turned away, 'don't expect it to happen again,' he returned curtly, wings sending waves of torment across his entire sensor net.

'No Sir… th-thank you.' The smaller mech's vocaliser broke into static and he shuddered.

Starscream was saved from having to say more as the mech's two trinemates came running up, chirping and cooing in reassurance to their third as they reached him, and he backed out of the loving scene.

Aching for his own wingmates, he flitted from one group of soldiers to another, taking in their status and sending information to the approaching medics through the comm line.

As the few medical professionals they had, including Hook, their CMO, reached the wounded, the SIC left the area completely.

He needed some time to compose himself alone before the inevitable summons from Megatron even if it meant his own injuries were not treated until later.

The mission had failed. The mech they had attempted to assassinate still lived and they had not gotten the information they had set out to.

Regardless of why or how, Starscream knew from past experience, even as he hoped otherwise, that the Commander would ultimately blame him for the loss and so take his frustrations out on his second.

Over the past two solar cycles that the flier had been SIC, Megatron had grown steadily more abusive and Starscream more cowed in response, each hurt cutting more deeply than the last.

Envying and hating the others for their freedom to release their fear, the Air Commander walked down the dark halls of Megatron's dwelling, a lavish base resting on top off a cliff with nothing but bare fields and open spaces below.

There had once been a thriving city but the Decepticon Lord had pulled back this section of his army into the central base and levelled all that remained to render a sneak attack by the Autobots impossible and to minimalize the chances of a spy infiltrating their forces there.

Lightning and thunder shook the base as the rain settled in for what would surely be a decacyle's long falling, Starscream cringed inwardly at the implications.

He and the others were grounded until the skies cleared.

And they would all probably go hungry as well as their stocks might not hold up under the stress.

Shivering, the winged mech stopped and leaned heavily against the wall.

I can't do this, the familiar sensations of a panic attack rose up through his systems, please Primus. He desperately tried to cycle air as he strained to ventilate, don't call for me please, have some mercy in your cold spark and leave me be this once, please.

A sob crackled through his vocaliser as the once proud self-assured mech slumped to the floor.

Trying ineffectually to force his systems to function properly, he wrapped his arms around his legs in a tight ball and for a few precious kliks there was no sound in the corridor but the whirr of Starscream's internals and his deep and heavy ventilations.

Starscream!

The flier gave a whimper at his leader's vicious tone, curling up even more to make himself appear smaller.

Get your worthless aft to my quarters before I come looking for you, the larger mech snarled, a hint of a slur in his voice.

Frame wracked with tremors, Starscream dragging himself up to his pedes by clawing at the wall with his talons. C-coming Master.

A growl struck at the SIC through the comm. 'C-coming Master', the once gladiator imitated cruelly, vile little coward.

The connection slammed shut and the Seeker crept silently towards Megatron's quarters, unconsciously trying to blend into his surroundings so he wouldn't be noticed.

As to be expected with the pandemonium in another part of the base, the areas he crossed were empty and soundless, apart from the muffled steady patter of rain on the reinforced roof.

It sounded so deceptively innocent.

Eventually coming to a flight of stairs, Starscream clutched at the railing as if it were a lifeline and ascended apprehensively to the top.

Then his pedes travelled along one more large corridor to the ornate double doors at the end.

They were easily treble the flier's height and, when closed, quadruple his width. They were gold with a rich purple Decepticon emblem in the centre which spilt exactly in half when the doors opened.

As Starscream approached, one side opened outwards towards him and, as he passed inside, it shut with a sense of finality to seal him in.

Leaning on it, wincing at the pressure on his scorched wings and frantically working to calm himself with his breaths coming in sharp gasps, he bit clean through his lower lip component to stop a terrified shriek escaping when he heard Megatron forcefully snap out his name from deeper inside.

Placing one pede in front of the other, Starscream advanced a few paces and turned to the left to face the tyrant's desk and office space. Directly behind it was a door out onto Megatron's balcony where he could see for miles unhampered.

The Seeker himself had only been permitted out onto it a few times but found the magnitude of open skies with the clear plains beneath them breathtaking.

To one side there was another door leading into the Decepticon Lord's berthroom and another access point to the balcony through the back of it.

Behind the SIC lay Megatron's living area which, along with the expected furnishings (tables, chairs, couches and other pieces), was dominated by a massive and exquisitely detailed map of Cybertron.

The Commander's chair had its back to him and the door leading outside was wide open allowing the Warlord to safely watch the destructive rainfall in the usual darkness of his rooms.

The only illumination was provided by short sharp cracks of lightning, like an energon whip striking the sky.

Starscream forced himself forwards another few steps before his bravery completely failed him and he dropped to his knees, shrinking in on himself as much as he was able, being as unobtrusive as he could.

'You fail me yet again Starscream.' It was almost a whisper and filled with threat.

The Seeker couldn't see his Commander but still cringed as though he was standing over him. 'I'm sorry Master, but not even Soundwave predicted the rain-'

'Don't you dare blame Soundwave for this! I put you in charge so it's your responsibility.' Megatron cut him off and stood. He turned to face his second and slammed his cube of high grade into his desk where it shattered at the same time another bolt of lightning struck.

Why not? He always scapegoats me. Starscream thought desolately, flinching at the loud crashing noises. 'I-I-'

The Seeker blinked and his Commander was looming above him, 'you, you what?'

The SIC began to shake violently, 'please.'

Megatron gripped him by the throat and raised him into the air, other servo clenching into a fist to start punching Starscream's chassis, directly above his spark chamber. 'You incompetent, worthless, cowardly imbecile.'

Energon rose in the flier's throat and dribbled down from the corners of his mouth, he scrabbled desperately at the servo holding him, silently pleading.

Kliks later he was thrown to the ground and his leader pressed a pede into his back to hold him still as Megatron tore his wings clean off with a low growl.

Even as he screamed in agony, Starscream perversely felt a small and brief amount of relief as the pain radiating from his damaged wings was removed.

Keening and crying beneath the tyrant's weight, the Air Commander barely noticed as he was picked up off of the floor and carried over to the Warlord's desk.

Megatron dropped him onto it, faceplates down, and placed a heavy servo on the Seeker's back. The other reached down to the flier's interfacing panel, 'open this. Now.'

Starscream had the awful sensation that something was clogging his throat as the Commander's claws scratched at such an intimate area, the worst thought being that he didn't know how to open it with terror running through his circuitry.

It had always opened automatically when he aroused himself enough to self-service and he'd only played with his spike when it would slide out without any manual order into his servo, then it would all right itself when he was done.

He'd never interfaced before, never even touched his valve as he'd been worried about causing it damage.

'I-I don't know h-how,' he whimpered, imploring his leader in his processor to leave it alone.

'Says the pleasure bot of the army,' Megatron spat before digging his digits into the seams and tearing it off, throwing it to the floor where it fell with a barely there clink.

Starscream heard the tyrant's panel click open and his spike slip out from its chamber and began to panic, babbling panicked pleas as he listened to Megatron stroking himself.

As he begged and pleaded, the Warlord cut him off. 'You owe me this,' he hissed, 'I spared your life.'

The flier's words stuck in his vocaliser and he went silent, sinking his denta into his arm to try to quieten his sobs.

He cringed as Megatron placed the head of his spike at his valve but the metal in his mouth muffled his whimpers.

As the Commander began to push in, the Seeker felt his world consumed by agony as sensitive lining stretched and tore. Stop, stop please…

Megatron sighed loudly through his vents in pleasure, 'so tight,' he moaned, voice clear even over the rain. 'So fragging tight.'

Starscream heard a surprised gasp followed by a cruel chuckle when the tyrant reached his seal, the first giving him hope, the second dashing it within almost the same spark pulse.

The Warlord slammed through it with a grunt and the Seeker's processor finally gave out as he laid, broken, on the harsh metal surface, small pieces of glass from the smashed cube piercing his lower abdomen.

The Commander only lasted a few kliks more before he overloaded and fell unconscious on his second's frame.

________________________________________

The rain was still falling strongly as Megatron raised his aching helm cycles later, processor severely hung over from his orn's worth of drinking.

Blinking harshly he lifted his frame off the surface he had dropped into status on, bringing a servo up to rub his helm and burning optics. After a few moments his vision cleared and he froze, nausea gripping his spark, when he saw his second slumped on his desk in front of him.

Energon dripped down onto the metal, staining it a dull purple.

Starscream…?

There were light tremors running through the SIC's frame but not a sound emerged from him.

Megatron found his sight drawn to liquid, a mixture of dark purple energon, yellow medical lubricant and pearly white transfluid running down and sticking to both their legs and glistening on his spike.

The tyrant stepped away, unable to avert his gaze, as the need to purge rose in his tanks.

No! No! I wouldn't have, not to one of my own soldiers. It had to have been willing, it must have been!

Lightning flashed outside and it glinted off a piece of metal on the floor, catching his attention.

Bending over, he picked it up delicately between two claws to examine the warped thin strip of material.

His optics flicked from it, to Starscream's wings which were illuminated by a second flash, to his silent Seeker.

Turning completely to face his second, he crouched by the desk and extended a servo to stroke one of his SIC's, 'Starscream? Starscream, it's alright now, I'm going to repair you. Don't… don't be frightened.'

Gently he eased his second off of the desk and cradled the smaller mech to his chassis, carrying him through his berthroom to his private washracks.

Unlike the other mechs of the army, he had an energon bath which when bathed in repaired most injuries.

As he ran it and the energy glittered up at him, he looked down on his Seeker in his arms and bit at his lip components, wondering how he was going to do this.

Strangely reluctant to put Starscream down, he stepped into the bath and lowered himself and his second into the energy, less a tangible thing than a subtle change in the air.

Warmth.

The flier squeaked softly as his frame dipped into the rainbow of colours, internal and external injuries healing or, if too serious to be entirely repaired through the energy alone, simply soothed.

Megatron, feeling his Seeker shiver as the sparkles touched him, used his engines to massage Starscream's frame in what he hoped was a calming manner.

Seeing his SIC curl into him, the tyrant's tanks rolled as he finally realised how small the scientist was in comparison to him, the drastic differences in everything from their respective weights to their strength.

Since Starscream had been promoted, Megatron had mercilessly mocked any display of fear the Seeker had made towards him…

Of course he gets frightened, you're much stronger than him and you're not exactly renowned for your kindness are you? Optimus's voice berated him in his mind. He used to look up to you, admire you; Primus knows why but he did, now look at what you've done to him!

Resting a servo on the smaller mech's helm and stroking it gently, Megatron began to think back on things, picturing Starscream how he had been a couple of solar cycles ago.

A truly beautiful mech. Intelligent, confident, self-assured, curious…

Unique.

His armour had been rich in red, white and blue and it shone, catching the optics of all he passed, his voice sweet and a joy to listen to.

When Starscream had flown with his trine it had looked like the most skilled of artists performing.

Deadly, perhaps my best soldier.

The SIC, apart from the initial noise of surprise, had yet to make a sound and had barely moved causing Megatron to grow more anxious with each passing moment, spark swirling wretchedly in its chamber.

He had been told, just before he made Starscream his second, that the best way to keep the Seeker's ambitions, personality and, at the time only minimal, rebelliousness in servo was to occasionally physically reprimand him. Soundwave and a couple of mechs who knew the flier intimately had confirmed and assured him of it and, for a while, it had worked well.

Even if Starscream did begin to lose faith in himself.

That had been the intention after all, to keep his servant in his place.

But then it seemed to swing too far the other way and the Seeker started to consistently fail in his tasks as his confidence faded.

Megatron began to see, now that he was focussing on nothing else, how things had escalated.

It had started off with a small slap the first time Starscream and he had met immediately following the flier's promotion and had deteriorated from there.

Little flashes burst through his processor, flicking back and forth through time as he remembered them.

The first time he beat Starscream publicly to teach him a lesson about slacking off and hiding things from his leader only to find out later, while the Seeker lay in critical condition in med bay, that the scientist had been designing him a new energon sword as a gift for the annual celebration of the creation of the Decepticons.

The horrible rattle the flier had made after his first serious punishment and only betrayal, near-death.

Starscream's forlorn faceplates when he returned from a mission to find that Megatron had sent his trinemates elsewhere and that he was forbidden to see them.

The Seeker crying in front of him for the first time when he destroyed the scientist's life's work.

The pleading look in his second's optics when Megatron granted Soundwave access to his mind in a punishment so Starscream would have no refuge during it.

The sadness in his second's demeanour when he had broken and burnt the flier's carefully constructed models of Vos.

The humiliation pervading Starscream's frame when Megatron had forcibly repainted him a dull silver and made it an order than he must stay that way.

The terror when the tyrant had threatened the Seeker's wings for the first time.

The twice almost madness when he had grounded his second for long periods of time.

The devastation and ensuing loneliness when Megatron labelled Starscream a whore for accepting suitors and banned anyone from courting him.

The hurt bewilderment and embarrassment when he had forced his second to lick his pedes clean after a lost battle.

The silence after he had crushed the winged mech's vocaliser and ruined his beautiful voice.

Beating after beating crossed his processor until guilt drowned his spark. Megatron had never planned things to go like this, had never wanted for his Seeker to suffer so much. He had simply desired his second's obedience and loyalty.

A sad small smile crossed his faceplates as he remembered the first time he had met the scientist, all alone in his lab…

________________________________________

'Starscream.' He smirked at the startled flier, knowing he had his trinemates in Decepticon custody, 'working late are we?'

The Seeker stood and stared at him contemplatively, 'I was just about to go home Sir. As you say it is rather late and my family is expecting me.'

Megatron smiled at him, crossing the space with quick long strides to stand barely an inch from the flier, 'I have your trine my little trine leader.'

'I know,' they were so close the Warlord could feel Starscream's light ventilations on his frame, 'they told me in our link.'

'Not quickly enough to warn you, though,' Megatron couldn't help but point out.

'Yes, they contacted me several kliks ago. If I had wished to leave I would have had plenty of time to do so Sir.'

The tyrant raised his optic ridges, 'you're a good actor. You'll make an excellent Decepticon.'

Starscream sighed sadly, 'I have little choice I suppose. I do not wish you to harm my trinemates.'

Megatron lifted the Seeker's chin to promise, 'as long as you serve me I will never hurt you, any of you.'

Starscream followed him tentatively hopeful from the lab and enlisted before the orn reached its end.

________________________________________

He had been intrigued by the flier right from the beginning and he knew Starscream's curiosity had also been piqued in return by his apparent contradictory nature.

Megatron had been flattered to see when Starscream was lower in rank and far younger, on his private security cameras that he kept located around the base, that the Seeker would occasionally reach completion while self-servicing shouting out the tyrant's name.

Of course, Starscream believed that the Commander held no answering desire and Megatron saw him tell Thundercracker and Skywarp as such when they had warped in on their trine-leader in the act.

Countless punishments, even more opportunities to seduce Starscream properly...

What a fragging waste, he snarled at himself, self-hatred growing in him as his anger at his own actions increased.

Realising that the energon bath had done as much as it was going to do for Starscream, the Warlord stood with him and returned to his berthroom, carefully tucking his second in between the sheets of his berth and sitting down on a nearby chair to watch over him.

Outside, the rain still fell, destroying everything it made contact with.

It showed no sign of ever stopping.

________________________________________

Author's Note- Hello this is my first fic of this dark a nature so I would ask that you read the warnings carefully before reading and no flamers please. It's AU so you can imagine it however you want.
This story was partially inspired by Kami Count D's 'Crime and Punishment' fic and I would recommend you all to read it if you have not already (also if you like Starscream/Ironhide as a pairing 'Crime and Punishment's' companion fic 'The Enemy You Know' is also a very enjoyable read).
Special thanks to iolper, Prototron MJ Tornada, Random523, Kitt SummerIsle, fan girl 666 and StarscreamGirl for their reviews on fanfiction.net.
Unbetaed.
Disclaimer- I do not own Transformers or its characters.
Warnings- Rated M. Non-con/graphic rape, violence, perhaps some slight gore and mutilation near/at the beginning, there may be consensual slash in later chapters, Transformer swearing, angst, depression, death, trauma, mentions of masturbation.
Warnings of this chapter- Angst, mentions of rape, Transformer swearing and violence- I believe that's all for this one.
Units of Time:-
Astrosecond- 1 second
Klik- 1 minute
Cycle- 1 hour
Orn- 1 day
Decacycle- 1 week
Meta-cycle- 1 month
Solar cycle- 1 year
Vorn- 1 million years
Italics- Flashbacks/thoughts/memories/link speak.
Bold- Comm speak.
Recognisable lines are borrowed/paraphrased from the 2007-2011 movies, accompanying games and other Transformers media.
I hope you enjoy the chapter and please review.
________________________________________

Chapter Two- Thunderstorm

It was testament to Cybertron's deteriorating condition that an acid rain downpour could merge seamlessly with an electric storm to create sheer madness outside. Megatron watched, arm resting on his doorframe, as tornados were whipped up a few miles from the base and silver and purple lightning crisscrossed the sky. Small flecks of rain began to flick onto his armour so he turned away and closed the door.

Slumping at his desk he stared at it, optics fixed on the stains on the metal. He couldn't believe he'd done it again. As a former gladiator and warrior make his basest nature consisted of death and interfacing, the former having made him kill his previous second, cruelly taunting the poor mech as he did so. After a few further violent outbursts Hook had recommended that the tyrant avoid high grade completely as it had a negative effect on the Warlord's already fragile control of himself.

It had been going so well. Regardless of what his SIC had believed Megatron had always been self-restrained around his Seeker no matter how bad a punishment had gotten. Regular visits to captured Autobots had kept his needs sated up until this last orn.

When he had come out of recharge there was only a couple of grey speckled clouds in the sky and it seemed as though the weather would be kind to the Decepticon Lord's mechs as they had left on their mission. However, a cycle or so after the last Seeker's thrusters had vanished from view the rain had begun to drizzle and, as Megatron watched, part of his balcony railing melted in front of him.

Clutching his chair and denting the arm rests, the Warlord had taken a deep ventilation and unsubspaced a few cubes of high grade and downed four or five in quick succession, optics darkening as the wind picked up and the deadly liquid began to pour down from the sky, cascading down like a waterfall.

After a while, with his gladiator programming's constant clamouring for dominance never louder in his helm, he gave into it thinking that locked up in his quarters he would pose no threat to his soldiers when, if, they came back.

Megatron's digits reached out to run lightly over the blemishes on the desk and his other servo reached out to begin emptying drawers out on the floor.

In the arena when an opponent was defeated they were presented to the victor and the winning mech would then decide whether to kill their beaten adversary then and there or to have them taken to the champion's quarters to frag later instead. The Commander had never lost so that decision had quickly become an almost ornly occurrence and a large part, almost the entirety, of his existence.

At least, the Air Commander had been more fortunate than his previous SIC. The mech's blood red colour had already been fading to grey before any medic could be called and when his officers asked why Megatron had executed the skilled and loyal mech the tyrant had no answer for them. The Warlord gave the smaller mech, his friend of millennia, an honourable burial and traditional ceremonial funeral.

Still, that he hadn't woken up to Starscream's dismembered frame in pieces around him offered little comfort. The fact remained, even as thunder crashed outside and shook the base, that his Air Commander's mind was possibly beyond repair.

And if it was what was Megatron to do?

To kill the flier, even as a form of euthanasia and with the CMO's approval, sounded selfish and harsh even to him. The tyrant supposed he would have to summon his SIC's trine back and have them look after him somewhere comfortable.

He could clearly see Hook's faceplates when he had handed the Constructicon Starscream's interfacing panel to repair. There had been a flash of something similar to the expression the CMO had given the first time he had been given the flier's wings to reattach that Megatron couldn't quite decipher before the crane had dipped his helm and strode past his leader to tend to the SIC.

From the tense way Hook had worked and the way he instantly sedated the flier so he would not be disturbed from his rest, going to stab the needle in furiously before pausing and doing it gently, as if he had needed to remind himself the Seeker was not the one his sudden ire was directed at, told Megatron exactly what was going through the CMO's processor.

Placing his servo on the smaller mech's shoulder the tyrant murmured against the medic's audio for him to speak freely. For a while there was silence as the perfectionist worked then Hook had jumped down from the berth and visibly wrestled with his temper, playing roughly with the tools in his servos. Megatron, in an effort to appear harmless, crossed the room to lean against his balcony door.

Eventually Hook growled with barely suppressed rage and, taking his Lord at his word that he could speak without restriction, snarled 'My Lord you are going to have to accept how this will look. There are mechs in the army who view Starscream as a youngling…' The CMO trailed off briefly grimacing before changing the topic abruptly, 'and you know he's not mentally stable. I warned you he wasn't!'

The Commander looked away, not angry but chastened.

The first time he had grounded Starscream he managed to coax the Seeker out of his cell himself even as the flier began to chitter at him in Seeker whimpering and it had taken several orns for the SIC to revert back to normal Cybertronian and to stop shivering. The second time however the SIC was unresponsive to him and by then the flier's trinemates had been sent to another planet and even with Skywarp's warping ability it would still have taken time for the two seekers to reach their trine-leader.

Considering Starscream wasn't drinking energon, too much time.

Eventually, Megatron summoned Hook and the medic had managed to stir the flier and lead him unresistingly down to the med-bay to be examined.

________________________________________

'Come along youngling, it's alright.' Hook's first words already aiming to sooth the distraught frightened mech.

'It's dark.' Starscream whispered, optic fluid dripping down his faceplates, curling towards the medic's servo on his shoulder. 'T-trapped here.'

'I know it is rather dull here but you don't have to stay, I'm going to give you your wings back, won't that be nice? You'll be flying again in no time.' The CMO began to gently urge the flier to his feet, stroking up and down Starscream's back as he did so.

'You promise?' The SIC's shaky voice uncharacteristically gave away how young he still was.

'I promise, little one, I promise.'

________________________________________

After Hook had left to return to his still injured patients, muttering angrily to himself, the Warlord had wandered aimlessly back to the still open door behind his desk to stare out at the weather.

Standing, Megatron tore open the door and ripped the desk off of the floor. Spinning on his pede he threw it out into the unforgiving environment outside where it flew over the edge of the balcony for it to finally shatter on the ground inaudibly over the far more powerful roar of the wind and rain. The tyrant's armour was scorched and it sizzled loudly but he couldn't bring himself to care and fell with a clang onto his aft imagining what Optimus was going to think when he heard what his brother had done.

Whenever Megatron reprimanded himself it was his younger brother's voice he heard echoing in his processor and he was never entirely sure why. Outside of the battlefield the Prime had always spoken civilly to him in a very calm and controlled manner and before the war the red and blue mech had always spoken warmly to him.

It was doubtful he would get that kind of acceptance from the younger mech ever again now but he still thought of it from time to time, saw it in recharge occasionally.

Starscream desired him before he was promoted from fourth in command to second (Soundwave of course retained his post as TIC as always) and Megatron had found the winged mech intriguing but...

Perhaps I am doomed to destroy any affection any mech has for me. Be it familial or otherwise.

Lying flat out on the floor it fleetingly occurred to him he was going to need a new desk to work on and as lightning illuminated the room a piercing purple, Megatron pulled himself up with the wall and reclosed the door.

As he had waited for Hook, the Commander thought again of all the things he had done to his SIC over the solar cycles. Some could be undone, others couldn't but the Warlord was given a multitude of ideas to work with to help make his second feel better.

The arrival of the electric storm had disrupted the external comm system so Starscream's trine could not yet be contacted but Megatron would send for them as soon as possible. Other things could be done immediately. The CMO had promised to return with a new vocaliser for the SIC and to look for paints to return the winged mech to his original colours…

When the tyrant had sent Thundercracker and Skywarp away it was due to his repainting of their trine-leader. As a demonstration of their love for Starscream they had gotten their own colours stripped and painted each other the same dull horrible shade. Megatron had been watching on his security cameras when they had warped in to the oldest Seeker's quarters to present to him their new paintjobs.

The trine-leader was visibly devastated that his trinemates beautiful colours were gone and had gripped them both in a harsh hug, caressing their wings and chirping at them in their native tongue, crooning tenderly to them before whispering to them that he loved them in standard Cybertronian.

In a moment of jealousy Megatron had called for his second in their private comm link to break up the warm scene and the flier had been forced to pull away from his trinemates and leave the room. As Starscream approached him through the base the tyrant decided to send his second on a fabricated reconnaissance mission so he could transfer the two Seekers without hindrance.

Megatron's vents vibrated in a sigh only now beginning to feel guilty for the action. If he hadn't sent his SIC's trinemates away then Starscream would never have been convinced to betray him shortly afterwards.

Lightning struck his balcony leaving a vivid black mark on the otherwise brilliant silver and the suddenness of the event and the deafening bang it created shocked his processor back to the present to refocus on the other things he was planning.

There was nothing he could do about the scientist's destroyed work himself but he could spare a bit of funding and materials and give some time and his permission for the Seeker to redo it. Some mechs in the army had some artistic talent and could make Starscream some new models of his destroyed home and...

A particularly vicious wind battered the base and the door to his berthroom shook perceptibly.

Yes, yes you're doing all these things but is it really to make Starscream feel better or are you using it as an excuse to avoid looking at him? Optimus's voice accused, it has been two orns and, apart from when Hook was here, have you checked on him? Did you even glance at him when the medic was here?

…No… Even when the CMO was working Megatron's optics only looked at the tools not the mech they were repairing.

I thought not. His brother's voice was smug.

Frag off! Megatron's snarl added itself to the rage of the storm.

What are you afraid of? He is deep in recharge and no threat to you.

Clenching his fists, the Commander started towards the door, but like Starscream two orns previously he reached a certain point and his nerve failed him. Standing silently mere paces from the door, Megatron bit viciously at his lip components as Optimus chanted coward in his helm.

Once he had left the Seeker the first time he hadn't been able to force himself to re-enter the room apart from when Hook was there to distract him from the prone figure in the berth.

Slowly his servo reached up, silencing his brother's voice and seemingly even the thunder outside for a moment, and opened the door. Not thinking at all how strange he looked, Megaton crept into his own berthroom and again stopped in the pitch darkness. Optics flicked around the room focussing on anywhere but the berth. Hastily he went through into his wash racks and closed the door behind him, quickly activating the lights.

Leaning on the door his claws clicked against it as he shook. If I stay here I can hide for a while and… and… and I need a wash anyway! I need to get the burns off my armour...

Running an energon bath for himself he settled into the tub as the energy submerged most of his frame. Dipping his arms into it and watching the worst of his injuries fade, he tried to keep his processor blank.

________________________________________

Cycles later, the Warlord's frame shot up, systems completely online and aware. In the other room there was the sound of revving engines and distressed clicking sounds. Pulling himself out of the bath, he rushed into the berthroom only to see his second gone from the berth.

Rounding it, he found Starscream scratching frantically at the balcony door and venting loudly, chittering and breaths coming in small struggling gasps. Staring, Megatron commed Hook and thanked Primus that their internal comm links within the base still worked.

Yes Lord Megatron. The medic sounded harried and the Commander flinched, remembering the report the smaller mech had given him about the others.

And it hadn't even been complete.

What is this? The tyrant described what his flier was doing even as Starscream curled himself into a ball and started to rock, optics tightly shut.

Hook sighed and murmured, just leave him, he'll calm himself given time.

What is it? Megatron questioned watching Starscream tremble.

A panic attack My Lord. It's best to leave him to regulate his systems himself; it gets worse if he feels crowded.

So I just watch? The tyrant sat on the edge of the berth.

He knows what to do; he has them fairly often, Hook attempted to reassure.

Yes directly after and before his meetings with you, Optimus hissed.

He should exhaust himself, the medic continued, then you can put him back in the berth Sir.

As rain pounded against the door Starscream whimpered in terror and curled even tighter in on himself.

Hook… Megatron trailed off, unsure what to say, if there was something he should be asking.

They don't normally last more than a few kliks My Liege. With the lack of energon in his tank he should drop back into recharge naturally. Hook was clearly trying to sound clinical but wasn't quite succeeding. Do you wish me to come up and set a drip up for him Master? The green and purple mech offered, having forgot in his hurry to return to his med-bay the previous orn.

The tyrant thought for a moment then told the CMO to come when he had a moment, more to have someone else there with him than for the medical reason stated and as the comm link cut he contacted his TIC to tell him to report to him in four cycle's time to look into Starscream's processor.

The telepath as the unofficial psychiatrist of the army knew more about mech's minds and emotions than anyone else within the Decepticons. Of course he hardly ever fulfilled this function as his other role was that of interrogator and so he generally wasn't found to be trustworthy enough to confide deep dark secrets in.

Telling Soundwave to keep their meeting quiet he signed off. As Hook had claimed, Starscream was gradually quietening and his frame was beginning to lean to one side to eventually lie out on the ground, knees held closely to his chassis as he curled himself as small as he could get before he finally fell still, ventilations slightly fast even in recharge.

Moving slowly across the floor, pedes silent even as the storm outside mocked his efforts, Megatron eased his arms under his second's much smaller frame and picked him up carefully to put him back in the berth.

As he began to leave the room to wait for Hook, the tyrant noticed Starscream shivering under the cover. Realising that his rooms would be cold for slighter forms he returned to the flier's side and, pulling out a blanket from under the berth, he covered his second with it and smiled gently in slight relief when the Seeker's trembling ceased and his faceplates relaxed marginally.

Hook had wanted the flier kept in medically induced recharge so that when he woke up and had his processor and all the problems it would present to deal with, he would at least physically be fine as his systems would have already recalibrated themselves so he wouldn't have to handle it.

Megatron, at a loss for what to do, crossed his rooms to look at his map of Cybertron. Settling comfortably into a lavish and rich purple chair his optics roamed over known Autobot bases trying to busy himself and ignore his brother's chiding cruel voice in his helm but his thoughts began to wander.

The Warlord had told the CMO to inform the others the ban on courting Starscream was lifted but, as the Constructicon had rightfully pointed out, the Seeker may not want suitors jumping on him as soon as the flier returned to his own quarters. If he ever did. He may not ever feel ready for a relationship if it was found that the flier had lost his ability to trust other mechs.

As it was Starscream was renowned for being reclusive since his trine had left and even before that he had only ever been seen alone or with them.

What have I reduced him to?

Leaning back as lightning struck outside, his optics no longer focussed on the well-defended fortified enemy base his gaze had lit upon, the Decepticon Lord's sight turned inward as a picture perfect image of his second orns after he had enlisted flashed in his processor.

By then, Starscream had been infected by all the excitement and camaraderie the others shared and laughed contentedly with his trinemates and their fellow fliers. Megatron had caught him out the corner of his optic staring admirably at him as he gave his speeches more than once.

Confident in all matters but courting in which a rare shyness would come over the scientist and he would often fumble quite adorably when he tried. Apparently some of the others had found this as endearing as Megatron did and the Seeker had soon found himself showered with gifts and compliments.

Suitors from all factions of the army, from other Seekers to grounder tacticians, had expressed their interest in Starscream.

The Commander admitted to himself as thunder rumbled ominously outside that he had not reacted well, in fact his response was described by the others as needlessly vicious. The poor SIC had been tormented in front of all like a spectacle for entertainment with the tyrant growling and yelling sparkbreaking insults at his sobbing begging flier. While Starscream cowered at his pedes Megatron caught the optics of all present and forbade them to consort with the Seeker beyond faction issues.

At least the flier would have his trinemates returned to him when the storm passed. Maybe, if he wasn't alone, then he would be able to recover fully.

As Hook pinged him to let him know he was ascending the stairs, the Commander stood to watch his double doors, while overly large to Starscream they were a comfortable height and width for the Warlord but still managed to appear impressive when he emerged from them and so suited his purpose completely.

Without question the winged mech was entirely his responsibility but that didn't mean he knew what to do with Starscream now. The methods he had come to rely on were unusable, would undoubtedly cause more damage to the already hurting Seeker.

Reassuring himself that he had time to play with and to plan what he was going to do, the tyrant approached the doors to greet his CMO, glad that his roof was reinforced the way the merciless rain was battering it. Hook's frame dipped into a neat respectful bow, no doubt wishing to hide the look in his optics from his leader, and they returned to the tyrant's berthroom together.

The medic slipped another sedative into the flier and set up a drip for him gently before turning to look at his Commander. 'My Lord I need to ask… about Starscream's spark…'

'No!' Megatron snapped, 'of course I didn't!'

'I needed to know My Lord,' Hook calmly justified, optics swirling.

'I know,' the Warlord's anger faded. Naturally the green and purple mech as head medic had to know pre-existing injuries and vulnerabilities of his patients for future reference in case surgery or treatment was required and other such matters. 'Is your work complete?'

'Yes My Lord unless you have something you wish me to do?'

'No, no you may leave,' the tyrant gave a dismissive gesture.

'Thank you Sir,' the Constructicon headed for the door before freezing. 'Oh My Lord, I found this.' Hook dropped a vocaliser into Megatron's metallic palm murmuring, 'I picked this up while getting spare parts, I believe it should provide quite a melodious sound.'

The tyrant's optics locked onto the medic's innocent ones for a moment and nodded, turning away from the smaller mech and hearing the outer doors close kliks later.

Sir? Hook addressed him suddenly, my gestalt and I will design and construct a new desk for you when the med-bay empties if that is acceptable?

Giving an affirmative and closing the comm link, Megatron sighed. If only it was just needing a new desk that was the problem.

Carefully subspacing the vocaliser, the tyrant left the room, the patter of the rainfall following him wherever he went.

________________________________________

Author's Note- Hello this is my first fic of this dark a nature so I would ask that you read the warnings carefully before reading and no flamers please. It's AU so you can imagine it however you want.
This chapter is entirely from Soundwave's POV and contains Soundwave/Megatron slash in a flashback. Soundwave's origins are based on those described in Transfomers Prime: (spoilers) a gladiator who nearly bested Megatron (Megatronus) in the arena in Kaon and so they both gained respect of each other through that (end spoilers).
This story was partially inspired by Kami Count D's 'Crime and Punishment' fic and I would recommend you all to read it if you have not already (also if you like Starscream/Ironhide as a pairing 'Crime and Punishment's' companion fic 'The Enemy You Know' is also a very enjoyable read).
Special thanks to poisonouswaffle'n-stuffs, sakiko of soleana, The-writing-Mew, Blazestar of Shadowclan, Prototron MJ Tornada, Random523, Kitt SummerIsle, fan girl 666 and StarscreamGirl for their reviews.
Unbetaed.
Disclaimer- I do not own Transformers or its characters.
Warnings- Rated M. Non-con/graphic rape, violence, perhaps some slight gore and mutilation near/at the beginning, there may be consensual slash in later chapters, Transformer swearing, angst, depression, death, trauma, mentions of masturbation.
Warnings of this chapter- Slash (Soundwave/Megatron), angst, mentions of rape, Transformer swearing and violence.
Units of Time:-
Astrosecond- 1 second
Klik- 1 minute
Cycle- 1 hour
Orn- 1 day
Decacycle- 1 week
Meta-cycle- 1 month
Solar cycle- 1 year
Vorn- 1 million years
Italics- Flashbacks/thoughts/memories/link speak.
Bold- Comm speak.
Recognisable lines are borrowed/paraphrased from the 2007-2011 movies, accompanying games and other Transformers media.
I hope you enjoy the chapter and please review.
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Chapter Three- Lightning Strikes Twice

Energon supply: 4378 cubes. Number of soldiers: currently unknown due to med-bay confusion but 86% chance of being over 2000 mechs. Estimated duration of storm: two decacycles. Amount injured: unknown but numerous. Amount of energon needed: increased for convergence to med-grade. Energon supply: 76% chance of being insufficient. Temporary severe rationing: necessary. Exact chance that storm may continue for longer than two decacycles: unknown but probability high.

Soundwave's processor whirled silently as he ascended the stairs sending waves of comfort to his symbiotes in their link as they cowered from the storm in his quarters. The telepath knew that he was expected to do something for Megatron to Starscream but the particulars were unknown.

Pinging his Commander as he reached the top corridor to let Megatron know he was close, he was unsurprised to see the left door open in welcome as he approached and his leader come to the entrance to greet him.

'Soundwave…' the telepath heard uncharacteristic hesitance in the Warlord's voice, 'there is something we need to discuss…'

Kliks later he was led to Megatron's berthroom to a sedated Starscream. Sitting down on the chair beside the berth, Soundwave looked to the tyrant only to see that the larger mech was leaving and the door was shutting behind him.

Laying a servo over the SIC's forehelm, the TIC tuned out the crashes and spark stopping bangs outside that tried to threaten his concentration. However as he prepared to dive into Starscream's mind and the sounds of the storm faded, his own memories were the ones to distract him and he could see them clearly in his processor.

Once Megatron had told him everything, or at least what he presumed was everything as he respected his leader far too much to ever invade his thoughts without permission, it had inevitably brought his own first experience of interfacing to the forefront of his processor.

Like Starscream, his seal had also been broken by the Decepticon Lord, in circumstances that hit too close to his spark for the telepath's peace of mind.

If their roles were reversed, what had happened to the flier might have happened to him and vice versa…

________________________________________

Lying on the ground, Soundwave stared up along the blade in his opponent's servo into deep intelligent red optics, venting quietly. The gladiator above him stepped back, energon sword falling to his side, to allow the telepath to pull himself to his knees and wait patiently for judgement. Mere moments after he settled into the dirt, Megatronus threw his weapon to one side where it fell with a thump and small shower of dust and rested his servo on Soundwave's shoulder, using the other to pull the energon covered warrior to his pedes.

The one-orn Decepticon took two steps back, careful to lose no more of his dignity by slipping in the energon of both combatants streaking the floor, and bowed first to the Champion of the fight and then turned to do the same for the crowd where, unlike most defeated mechs before him, he was cheered and applauded almost as though it were he who was the victor.

Turning proudly on his pede, he limped without faltering to the medic waiting on the sidelines. As soon as he was out of sight of prying optics, his frame collapsed exhaustedly on a med-bay berth.

What a fight! He'd never had such an opponent, one who thrilled and surprised him at every turn. He knew, of course, exactly what he owed the other mech in return for his life but the purple mech was content, there was no one more worthy to break his seal than someone who had bested him in fair combat after all.

The medic quickly set to work on the damage, repairing energon lines and welding tears, some of which having gone straight through his armour and into his protoform, and other such inconveniences. Soundwave stared up at the ceiling, ignoring the silent medic and the vivid orange digits which flew across the gladiator's frame, and decided spontaneously to retrieve his best wax from his quarters.

He knew it probably wouldn't be a pleasant experience but he could at least try not to look like slag when he turned up, it was technically a special occasion or at least it was to him. Logically, the purple mech rationalised that he would probably be back in this position in mere cycles time, and would possibly need his valve internals completely redone. Although, he seldom was merciful to the few opponents he spared and so why should he expect better treatment than he had bestowed on them?

Megatronus might be kind as he should be in a good mood from his win, but in all likelihood he would be brutal and smug at taking such a proud mech's virginity.

He might be overenergised in which case Soundwave should be careful how he worded his speech, monotonic as it was, and how he behaved as most gladiators after drinking too much high grade became both defensive and increasingly aggressive. Any ill-timed gesture could be taken as a challenge with easily deadly consequences.

It was these situations that made the logical mech glad that he didn't process emotion as keenly as his peers; it made it easy to quell the small amount of panic inside him that would have been heavily magnified in others, and to remind himself that, although he had likely predictions, his data was insufficient for his processor to state with finality and definitiveness exactly what was going to happen this night cycle.

The medic, several feet smaller but a little wider than Soundwave's stick like figure, straightened and stepped away from the berth, helm bowed, to indicate that the repairs were complete and to give the telepath room to leave.

Walking out into the hall and towards his quarters, Soundwave's spark whirled with uncertainty, disliking his lack of knowledge about his future. His agent, or rather his owner, was waiting for him, leaning arrogantly on the door to the purple mech's living area. Despite the reputation it would gain him and the death sentence it would certainly put on his helm, the future Decepticon TIC was considering killing the putrid slagger.

Just a small burst of telekinetic energy and he could fry the enslaver's processor he believed quite painfully. And slow if he so desired.

As expected, on seeing his gladiator the large green and yellow mech glared and strode over, slapping the telepath hard enough across the faceplate to send his helm flying to one side before stomping off snarling. The purple mech shrugged it off and entered his rooms heading straight for his washracks to get rid of the grime, dust and energon caked into his frame.

________________________________________

Walking towards the other gladiator's quarters, Soundwave sighed softly through his vents and knocked on the door. A service drone answered and beckoned him in, tapping his throat twice to indicate he was mute, and handed the telepath a datapad before leaving.

Pressing the power button and reading the surprisingly elegant Cybertronian script, the purple mech processed the new information he was being presented with.

________________________________________

Gladiator Soundwave,

My apologies but I have been detained by my agent. You are welcome to wait in my quarters and there is a cube of high grade waiting for you on the living room table.

I will be with you shortly,

Megatronus.

________________________________________

The telepath crossed the room to the table and sat at it, delicately taking the cube offered in servo. As he put it up to his faceplates to smell it and his scanners tested it thoroughly for any anomaly, Soundwave thought about the way the note had begun formally and got steadily more informal as it progressed; it could have been because the larger fighter was pressed for time but nevertheless the purple mech relaxed minimally and settled into the firm chair which provided wonderful support for his back.

Looking around, Soundwave approved of the functionality and simplicity of the primarily tarnished brown and soft yellow areas Megatronus used. Everything clearly had an intended place and was well-organised in sections, maximising available space. Though bland in places, nothing was garish or made him feel uncomfortable.

In a word the other mech's rooms were sensible and served to soothe his spark and processor with yet more promising data.

Megatronus strode in moments later and the telepath extended a single mental tendril to caress the stronger mech's mind, not overly invasively just connecting him to the surface of the other mech's thoughts so he could see and understand the silver mech's moods.

The other gladiator smiled to see that Soundwave was settled and calm waiting for him and the purple mech heard the fleeting thought that others hadn't been nearly so rational about this, and Megatronus said it himself moments after stopping the slightly smaller mech from dropping into a kneel and sat on the chair beside him at the metallic dirty yellow table.

'I've never had someone be so at ease with me in this situation before,' he purred half-questioningly.

'Explanation: Megatronus defeated Soundwave. Megatronus:… worthy of Soundwave. Life debt: owed. Right: earnt. Soundwave: content.' The purple mech tried to infuse his droning tone and short statements with some earnestness, wincing internally when he failed to make his voice sound even slightly different.

To Soundwave's surprise, the silver mech's smile widened into an amiable grin, and his mind registered the other mech's understanding.

'I'm not often gentle,' Megatronus sipped at his glowing energon, 'but then it is not often that the mech beneath me is one I respect.'

The thin mech's visor flickered in gratitude as he informed the other gladiator that he respected him also, extending his cube forwards for Megatronus to clink his own against.

Half a cycle later, in which they discussed their fight in detail and praised each other's skills and described how they both became gladiators (the silver mech's optics had noticeably darkened when the telepath had mentioned his agent), Soundwave watched the silver mech set his empty cube down and stand.

Normally, the purple mech avoided high grade, not liking how it clouded his processor and dulled his otherwise razor sharp senses. This meant that, while he was not completely inebriated, the other gladiator's homebrew hit his tanks quite hard and skewed his sense of balance. Using the table to push himself to his pedes, the telepath was mildly alarmed when he tried to approach his host's berth and stumbled.

He would have fallen had it not been for the silver mech catching him then sweeping him up into his arms, Soundwave's tendril filling with Megatronus's amusement, and the other gladiator carried him across the room, almost tenderly laying him out on the deliciously supple metal.

Their lip components met heatedly and for the first time Soundwave understood how the full force of emotion felt first hand, it zinged around his circuits burning and electrifying as it filled him completely, and he felt lost.

His servo shot out blindly searching for Megatronus in his distress and the other mech pulled away and began to croon to him soothingly, caressing his frame pleasantly. 'My most talented opponent,' the silver mech whispered, 'so beautiful.'

Keening softly as he was petted and Megatronus gradually aroused his frame, Soundwave could only try to breathe compliments and words of gratitude in answer. When he was ready, his berthmate prepared him carefully, continually murmuring praises and encouragement as he urged his valve cover to slide open and a claw into the purple mech's constricting valve, shushing the startled mewl this action brought.

Taking as much time as he needed to make sure Soundwave would feel only a little discomfort, the silver mech gradually eased inside and, gripping the telepath's hips, slammed their lip components back together to distract the telepath from the inevitable pain as Megatronus stabbed through his seal.

Soundwave felt the other gladiator swallow his scream which ensued this and soothing strokes to his sides and gentle shallow thrusts soon made the pleasure building in his circuitry, tanks and spark return. Eventually, the thrusts increased in strength and became more rapid resulting in them overloading in tandem and the telepath passing out as the combined ecstasy from both of them overwhelmed his systems.

When he woke, Megatronus was gone and a datapad waited on the pillow.

________________________________________

Soundwave,

Energon is waiting for you on the table. Do not leave until after we have spoken.

I hope you rested well,

Megatronus.

________________________________________

When the other gladiator returned it was with an official looking datapad in servo. Megatronus grinned at him as he handed it to the curious telepath and he read it quickly and then again more slowly, and again as he gave short vents unable to comprehend what had just been gifted to him.

His freedom.

'Query…'

The other gladiator quietened him with a kiss.

________________________________________

He had never found out how Megatron had managed to get his agent to let him go, and for free no less and the datapad was constantly kept safe in his subspace, a treasured possession to remind him he was free and that Megatron was more than worthy of his service and respect.

When his future Commander had offered him a place beside him, Soundwave had accepted and became the gladiator's bodyguard. They seldom interfaced, instead becoming close companions and sparring partners, and when the telepath met Shockwave the two had soon bonded with Megatron's blessing…

The telepath shook himself mentally and focussed back to the task at hand, that of going into Starscream's mind on their leader's behalf to see categorically the state it was in and to ascertain exactly how much damage had been done.

Shutting off his sight receptors he vented loudly then slowly immersed himself into the winged mech's processor until the Air Commander was all his sensors could register.

'Starscream: greetings offered.' Soundwave called out into the Seeker's mind but no one answered him. This did not necessarily mean that the SIC was ignoring him although he could be as they were hardly on good terms, the flier could simply have locked himself deeper inside his processor, hiding to protect himself, so the purple mech's essence travelled deeper in search of the elusive Seeker.

Flickers of memories and thoughts passed through and over him but they were too old to be of any relevance now so he disregarded them and kept going, rather like driving on an empty highway. Locked files came up like doors around him but he knew the dates of each one after a simple passing glance and, again, they were not recent enough.

It was as if all Starscream's memories of being in the army were sealed tight and concealed away from these past, and by the feel of them happy, experiences leaving Soundwave to wonder whether the flier had placed them like this, deciding to keep them so deliberately and excessively separate in his mind; or was it a case of the folders and files refusing to be near each other or mix in together like water would when exposed to oil?

'Request: assistance and guidance,' the telepath tried to let Starscream know that he was a harmless visitor and there were only certain things he wished the flier to show and tell him. It was never wise when inside someone else's domain to be deliberately antagonistic unless you were willing to inflict damage on the host of the mind you were situated in. 'Harm: unintended. Help: offered.'

If the flier was listening then the Decepticon third had made sure that the connection between them worked both ways only Starscream would not be able to go so far into the purple mech's processor. If the Air Commander looked he would see the truth in his vorns-long enemy's words.

Hopefully it would prove enough to earn Starscream's trust.

Suddenly, like the rush of air that follows the passing of a train, Soundwave felt himself thrown forward and then silence and blackness surrounded him. Bewildered, the purple mech looked around him before a sharp light blinded him and stabbed at his essence as if a door had been thrown open to reveal shockingly brilliant sunshine. It only lasted a moment before it ceased and he looked up to see Starscream's own essence curled into a ball and staring at him with bright glowing red optics, made even brighter by the film of optic fluid over each one.

When the Seeker didn't speak, Soundwave pulled himself shakily to his pedes and made to approach only for Starscream's essence to vanish and a new scene to be cast up around him leaving the telepath safely off to the side so he would only be simply a spectator to the play the Seeker wanted to show him.

Soundwave could only watch, unable to interfere in something which had already taken place, and not completely sure if he would have even if he had been present, not out of hatred to the flier but because of his loyalty to Megatron, as the SIC unknowingly prostrated himself like a defeated opponent in the arena and the rape which inevitably followed. Throughout he experienced every emotion Starscream had felt then and was given a hint of what was going on in the Seeker's helm now.

As things progressed, the telepath felt his spark twist and sympathy slowly grow inside him. On a few occasions when he had spared his opponents he had done so because they were young and he was gentle with them, and only them, for that reason.

Starscream was many vorns younger than him, even now he was still younger than when Soundwave had had his seal broken, and the telepath had forgotten that. An awful image appeared in his processor for a moment, and he was unsure if he created it or if the Seeker did, of his symbiotes being harmed in the same way and he felt a sickness growing deep in his tanks.

A deep aching sadness, both the Seeker's and his own, surrounded him and wrapped around his spark as the memory faded and nothingness was all he could see once more.

A few astroseconds later a sparkling appeared in front of him, a Seekerlet that was clearly Starscream a few solar cycles after his creation, gazing up at him with pained optics. He was accompanied by the sound of quiet crying which echoed around them. 'Why do you all hate me?' He whimpered, tiny wings shivering in his distress, 'I only ever wanted to help.'

Unable to help himself at the sight of a little one, even though it was an illusion Starscream's processor had created to shield himself, the telepath knelt and scooped the tiny Cybertronian into his arms. 'Starscream: not hated. Lord Megatron: sad that you are hurting. Lord Megatron: sorry.' Without quite meaning to the telepath fell into the same kind of speech patterns that he used after Ratbat had had a bad memory flux.

'He's never sorry,' the sparkling sniffled, 'b-blames me for e-everything.'

'Lord Megatron: stressed. Lord Megatron: does not like to hurt Starscream.' The former gladiator was reasonably sure this was true, or at least it had been in the beginning and maybe could be again. 'Query: would Starscream like presents?'

'Presents?' The flier whispered, nuzzling the telepath's chassis and beginning to twitter softly, still acutely upset.

'Statement: when Starscream is better and wakes up, Starscream will be given gifts by Lord Megatron. Statement: Starscream can come and speak to Soundwave whenever Starscream wants to.'

'But you hurt me too,' Starscream whispered, 'and you told him to hit me…'

'Soundwave: sorry,' the telepath murmured, 'Soundwave:… obeys Lord Megatron. Protection of self and symbiotes: paramount. Loyal to Lord Megatron: total. However: Soundwave wishes to help. Suggestion: Soundwave and Starscream work together from now on. Explanation: Lord Megatron will no longer need to harm Starscream because Starscream will be supervised and loyal like Soundwave.'

'My mind?' The sparkling asked quietly, the sound of weeping that had been audible since they had started to speak faded if only for the moment.

'Starscream's mind: safe,' the purple mech promised.

'Spark hurts,' the Seeker sobbed, tiny digits clutching at the TIC.

For a long while, Soundwave's essence sat deep inside Starscream's mind, holding and rocking the version of Starscream the Seeker had chosen to share with him until the SIC's own essence vanished from his grip and he pulled out and away from the flier's mind.

________________________________________

Soundwave withdrew from Starscream's processor hearing the thunder crash as if in the distance and looked up to Megatron. 'Primary issue: due to spark. Processor: damaged by it.' Starscream: devastated. Primary cause: Megatron. Secondary cause: Soundwave.

The tyrant sighed through his vents and reached out to squeeze his third's shoulder armour, 'is his mind… salvageable?'

'Answer: possible. Probability: unknown. Better estimation: possible when Starscream wakes up from sedation.' Soundwave informed after contemplation.

Megatron sighed through his vents before nodding and thanking then dismissing him.

As the telepath left his Commander's quarters, he couldn't help but feel his own fond memories of his seal breaking had somehow been defiled by Starscream's violent ones and it filled him with a deeper sadness than he had known he'd had the capacity to feel.

Outside the wind whistled mournfully.

________________________________________

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Acid Rain