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Captive to a Nightmare	By : geminigirl83 Category: Transformers > Transformers: Animated > AU/AR Views: 2616 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. I make no profit from this.

Chapter List
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Title: Captive to a Nightmare
Pairing: Lockdown/Prowl
Rating: PG-13 (Rating will go up in later chapters)
Warnings: spank
Summary: (2/? AU) Not a great way to start off captivity.

Prowl groaned as he slowly woke, optics flickering online, squinting when a bright light filled his vision. When his optics adjusted, Prowl found himself laying flat on a berth, and, surprisingly, unbound. He groggily sat up, surveying the room around him. The walls and floor were a dark colored steel, and it was sparse in decoration, merely a berth and a few chairs in the corner.

Slowly, Prowl rose from the berth, heading for the door to the left of him, rubbing the sore area on his neck where Lockdown had pinched him.

‘Fantastic,’ Prowl thought. ‘The fragger knows about pressure points.’

The door remained shut when Prowl approached, and when he raised his right arm to fiddle with the control panel, he froze. Wrapped tightly around his wrist was a small gold band. It appeared harmless, but Prowl ran a diagnostic scan on his system and found that it was linked up to his sensors. He anxiously pried at the band, gasping and falling to his knees when a powerful pulse surged through his frame. Although the pulse wasn’t painful, it drained him of energy. Woozy and suddenly very tired, Prowl hobbled over to the berth, panting.

His intake hitched when he gazed down at his chassis. The Autobot insignia that once adorned his chest was gone. No scratch marks, no burn marks. The crest seemed to have been meticulously peeled away.

"Slagging glitch!" Prowl snarled.

Rage clouded his processor, and the weariness that once overwhelmed him dissipated. He rushed back over to the control panel, tapping in various numbered codes. When Prowl had previously been on Lockdown’s ship to track Starscream, he had hacked into the ship’s mainframe, collecting pass codes, and it appeared as if he had been discreet enough to keep the bounty hunter from noticing. On the fourth attempt, the door slid open, and Prowl cautiously peeked outside. There was no sign of Lockdown, and he strode down the hallway, heading for the trophy room. Once he reached the trophy room door, he punched in another pass code on the control panel, opening it on the second attempt.

Carefully stepping forward, Prowl glanced around the room, and once certain Lockdown wasn’t in the vicinity he hurriedly began to rummage through the shelves. He smiled in relief when he opened a drawer. As expected, Lockdown kept the crest. Obviously, the bounty hunter couldn’t resist keeping it as a trophy. Retracting his chest plates, Prowl placed the insignia inside. It would be pointless to reattach it to his chassis. Lockdown would just steal it again. At least this way, Prowl had a chance at protecting it.

Closing his chassis, Prowl started to head out when something caught his optics, something that had not been present the last time he was aboard. He froze, utterly horrified. In the far corner, stood a tall shelf, containing heads. Cybertronian heads. There were twenty in total, all with blank, dead expressions. Above the heads, were their crests, and all were Autobots.

‘Primus, oh Primus,’ Prowl whimpered to himself.

Nausea and lightheadedness overtook him, and he stumbled backwards, crashing into a shelf with such hard force that it sent it toppling over. Numerous weapon trophies crashed to the floor, some of which broke on impact. Booming footsteps heading in his direction made Prowl shudder, and he rushed for the door, gasping when Lockdown came bursting through. The older mech gazed at Prowl in shock, lips parting to speak but falling silent when he spotted the collapsed shelf and scattered, broken trophies. Prowl took a step back when Lockdown glared at him, teeth bared in a sadistic snarl. His shocked face was now contorted in rage, servos clenching and unclenching. Prowl knew what Lockdown was thinking: he had escaped from the room and was purposely destroying his trophies.

"You little brat!" Lockdown snapped, lunging forward.

The ninjabot leapt out of the way, transforming to his alt mode and racing out the door and down the hallway with Lockdown in hot pursuit. He didn’t get far. His back wheel was violently kicked, causing him to loose balance and skid across the floor onto his side. Prowl transformed back, yelping when Lockdown grasped him by the neck and hauled him up. He gripped the bounty hunter’s servo, nails digging into the tough armor, kicking out desperately when he found himself dangling in midair.

"How did you get out?!" Lockdown snarled, giving Prowl a hard shake.

Wide eyed and terrified, all Prowl could manage was a low squeak.

"Answer now!" Lockdown yelled.

He was going to die; he was sure of it, and it was going to be slow, painful, and gruesome. Prowl briefly wondered if his head would end up on the shelf.

Lockdown took in a shuddering breath. "Fine. You want to act like a sparkling, kid, I can’t treat you like one."

"Wh--" Prowl gasped.

The bounty hunter sat down, tossing Prowl over this lap, servo firmly holding the younger mech’s wrists together. Prowl realized what was to follow, and he started to struggle. It was in vain, though. The moment he started fighting a pulse coursed through his frame, weakening him. Prowl gritted his teeth when Lockdown’s servo violently slammed over his aft, fighting to keep himself from screaming. Agony besieged his sensors. The blows were unrelenting, and each strike seemed to get more and more vicious until there was an audible, sickening pop. Prowl’s hip joints had been knocked out of place, and the last thing he heard before passing out was Lockdown’s panicked cursing.

When Prowl woke up later, he found that he was back in the dark steel room, face down on the berth. He shifted, hissing in discomfort as pain shot through his aft and hips.

"Don’t move. Just relax."

Prowl tilted his head, glaring back at Lockdown. The bounty hunter was avoiding optic contact and fidgeting uncomfortably.

"I...repaired your joints," Lockdown mumbled. "You’ll be sore for a few orbital cycles...but you should be able to move about fine enough." He paused, servo reaching over to softly caress the ninjabot’s fairings. "I...ah...have a surveillance system on this ship...you know...and...I viewed the video while you were out. Why...didn’t you tell me it was an accident?"

Prowl venomously spat, "And you would have listened?"

Lockdown remained silent, servo trailing down to cup and massage the ninjabot’s aft. Prowl tried to squirm away, not because it was painful but because it actually felt good on his aching plating. The bounty hunter ignored the younger mech’s wriggling and lowered his head to kiss and lick at the plating, fingers rubbing insistently where his port was covered over. Scowling, Prowl bent his leg back and rammed his foot with all his strength into Lockdown’s face, connecting hard. The bounty hunter stumbled back, servo covering his mouth, stroking his stinging dentals. Prowl didn’t care about the promise he made to Lockdown. He was enraged, humiliated, and sore. Unless the bounty hunter made another threat toward his teammates, he wasn’t in the mood to cooperate with the prospect of interfacing at this time.

"Kid...I wasn’t..." Lockdown sighed. "Whatever...get some recharge. We’ll talk later."

Lockdown stomped out of the room. The bounty hunter’s change in demeanor was confusing to Prowl, but he didn’t have the energy to reflect on it now. He was just grateful to be left in peace. Fiddling with the gold band, Prowl slowly dozed off in a restless recharge.

TBC
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Captive to a Nightmare