Adult-FanFiction.org : Cartoons

Baby Bone Lullaby	By : paw07 Category: Transformers > Transformers: Animated > Slash - M/M Views: 2664 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers and make no money for my writing ... which is why you guys should give me reviews. X3

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Chapter 2: Blood Letting
Optimus’ frown grew hard as he watched Sentinel stall again, leaning against a building as he vented heavily. He looked ready to pass out, his form looking weary as his wrists and ankles dripped slight amounts of energon. Stalling, wishing that Sentinel would have just stayed in the old substation the first time he felt faint, Optimus reached a hand out towards Sentinel’s shoulder ready to steady him …
Merely to have Sentinel jumped back, optics bright and wide as he cried, “Don’t touch me! Don’t fraggen touch me!”
Hands going up as Optimus stalled in the subway, the fire truck took a step back while being mindful of the middle track so he wouldn’t electrocute himself. Optimus’ voice was weary, “Wo, wo. It’s okay Sentinel. Calm down. You just looked like you might … fall. I … wasn’t going to hurt you.”
Optics still bright, Sentinel quickly realized his mistake. Paranoia. He was making himself look guilty.
Trying to remain calm, the blue mech sighed and shook his head. “S-sorry … everything j-just hurts. Yeah, e-even my armor hurts. Please don’t touch me.”
Optimus stood there a moment surprised that Sentinel had actually said please. It had been a long time since he had heard that from the other and it made him stall. Dumbfounded, all Optimus could do was stare at Sentinel as if he was looking for something.
His spark merely throbbed as the two shared a long stare. Optimus didn’t know what happened down there and that bothered him more than anything … mostly because his spark seemed to be pressing against its glass, whispering something that he should know.
Whatever it was, it was something mournful and sick … something his mind should know. And not knowing, to have his thoughts stolen by the Earth Con, enraged him slightly. Though, now staring at Sentinel, he realized that all of the answers to his missing thoughts were right in front of him. Sentinel was the one that had remained awake and had suffered for it. Unfortunately, there was shame and hurt in the Sentinel’s optics and … was that fear? So … Did he want to know?
What could Sentinel possibly be afraid of?
Frowning, Optimus murmured, “Please, let me help you back to base… unless you want me to drive ahead to base and get Ratchet? He can transport you.”
Sentinel shook his head, knowing already that he didn’t want Ratchet anywhere near him so soon after being … violated. Ratchet was a war mech and probably had seen many a mech and femme come into his tent, violated and shaken. He could probably convince Optimus’ that he was shaking because of torture, electricity, but a medic would notice that none of his systems were damaged the right way. The longer he kept away from Ratchet to collect himself, the better. In fact, it was probably best if he kept away from Jazz as well. The ninja-bot wasn’t a medic but he was trained in certain aspects for emergency situations.
Finding his voice, a part of him secretly glad that Soundwave had damaged their comm. links with his sonic blasts, he murmured, “No, neither of us could take on an enemy this way. Remember the Autobot vow… no one gets left behind.”
Optics going wide, Optimus forgot how religiously Sentinel upheld the Autobot vows and how much those words echoed in his helm … like the day Elita had fallen into that hole in the earth, crying out for them and Sentinel begging to go after her.
Putting a hand out, wanting to touch Sentinel’s wrist at least but somehow resisting, he murmured, “No, no. I’m not leaving you behind. I-I was just worried about you health and I was going to get Ratchet, b-but you are right. We will stick together.”
Walking slowly, glad there were two tracks just in case they met a subway train so they could move over, Optimus finally broke the silence after what felt like forever and asked, “Sentinel … what happened down there? I don’t remember anything. Tell me what happened. You looked quite shaken.”
Sentinel moved his lips, his mind struggling to pick one of the dozens of lies his mind had made up and finally … he decided that the closest thing to the truth would be the easiest to uphold. Moving his lips, his throat feeling raw, he murmured, “Well, we were hanging there and then we saw that that Soundwave character was rusting. He then … then started that device on your helm and it was like you weren’t there anymore. Apparently, he wanted to get our structural information so he could … have our bodies. He said that he wanted yours and … you started telling him about your structure and where things were located. I was yelling at him and apparently he wanted info from me as well.”
Here is where the lies started and though he knew that they would just pile on top of each other until they crushed him under their weight, he spoke them anyway.
His lips moved as he vents sighed, “He decided to play with me for being a ‘loud mouth’. He used his sonics and electricity to … torture me.”
Optimus’ optics brightened in the dullness of the subway tunnels before he turned his head, the darkness devouring all the light except for his optics it seemed, “I’m sorry, Sentinel … but … how did you get down?”
Frowning, his mind struggling to find the right lie, another lie on top of another, he grumbled, “I pretended to be deactivated. He took me down so he could start taking me apart.”
Sputtering, horror in his optics, Optimus shook his head as if he had been the one raped, whispering, “A-and I just watched.”
Spark so pained, he bore his teeth and then let his lips fall open … words almost soft, “What’s done is done… let’s not talk about it anymore.”
Optimus was silent after that, his gaze shifting to the crippled and disoriented Sentinel … a part of him wishing that he could read minds because Sentinel never forgot that easily especially when something was wronged against him. He expected justice through Autobot law. True, he did pound Soundwave’s cranium into the cement which in itself seemed far too violent and desperate for the clinical Sentinel, but where was the demand for paper work or procedure?
Something was wrong with Sentinel… why wouldn’t he look him in the optic?
“Sentinel… are you sure you are alright?” said Optimus, his voice almost begging.
Giving the other’s worry no mind, the blue mech pushed himself forward in front of the other though his limbs were shaking and his helm was starting to feel disoriented again like when he first woke up, the pain between his legs from his first popping and the sonics after were not helping the exhaustion. Frag, he knew from the femmes he had popped that he should rest and let his systems relax because they were recalibrating for a new online system.
Frag… when he had taken Elita… he had lain with her all day, holding her.
It was a memory he would grasp onto whenever things got hard, her helm buried into his shoulder, her squeaks and giggles when it started feeling good for her. And the way their bodies fit so perfect together like they had been made for each other. Sure they had their spats, he would be a jerk and she would just come right back and knock him down a peg or two with a lilt word or two and a swing of her hips. The perfect femme. It had only been about two orns later that, after they had spent that night of soft passion together, that he lost her.
Grabbing onto her smile and the ghosting feel of her kissing on his audios as she had been so fond of, even in public, he kept his feet moving even when his legs started to feel numb. Frag, he had to keep moving. Even if he had to pretend that she was mocking him for being weak. He held onto that ghostly echo of her voice until he finally had to crawl up out of the railway and up into a group of staring late nighters waiting for the train. He even imagined her cooing at him for being a sparkling since he couldn’t even crawl up the stairs and out into the street.
And even when Optimus begged that he should take a break, he imagined that it was just any other adventure, the three of them… Optimus begging that this was a bad idea.
Huh, to think. If Elita hadn’t died, he would probably be like Optimus and Optimus would probably be the rule-myster. Elita’s deactivation had taught him a hard lesson that day, one that bled into his spark and made him cold and serious, gone were the days of bad decisions. The rules were there to protect him. The rules were there to be obeyed.
If he had had listened, just that once to the rules… none of this would have ever happened.
Frag, he was dizzy.
‘Stop acting like a protoform; you can’t even walk straight,’ came Elita’s voice in the back of his head. And he tried to obey it but his equilibrium was going. He couldn’t stand anymore, but he had to be conscious for when they got to the ship. He had to make sure the medic didn’t see certain things. He had to remain conscious.
‘Oh baby … it’s okay to be tired.’
“D-don’t say that,” whispered Sentinel, cleaner welling up in his optics. She was supposed to be his strength. She was supposed to keep him strong. Yet … here he was. Slowly falling to his knees, Optimus grabbing for him to try and slow his fall. He should have screamed and pulled away, told Optimus never to touch him again. But for a moment, he imagined the one touching the side of his helm was Elita and that those worried blue optics were hers…
Reaching a hand up, now cribbed in Optimus’ arms, he whispered, “Elita… I’ve missed you. P-lease don’t leave me again.”
Optimus’ optics, the mech just trying to cradle Sentinel’s helm, went wide and a sudden fear prickled in his chest as his old friend reached up and touched his cheek… calling out her name. Sentinel would never forget Elita even when he was deactivating… Frag. No, no, no! Sentinel wasn’t offlining, was he? He was shaking and weak and should have really stayed in subways to recover. But would that have really mattered? Because … What if Soundwave had ripped out some system components when he had been out of it?
He had left Sentinel defenseless, hadn’t he? Sentinel always did need his back watched.
Choking in his throat, he pulled his friend close, his mind fighting with itself to get up and leave or stay here as his old friend died. The latter made the most mournful sense… Sentinel was going to offline even if ran the whole way to base because the blue mech’s systems were turning off to quickly, one by one as if he was going into recharge. Optimus felt helpless as he just watched it happen. It reminded him of the spider planet all over again, but this time … now Sentinel was falling in after her.
But this time he wasn’t a scare young mech. He was a soldier no matter what Sentinel called him. He was strong. Shaking the other, voice pitched, anger bubbling as he almost yelled, “Sentinel! Sentinel! Don’t you dare deactivate! Elita would never forgive me in the Well of Sparks! SENTINEL!”
Still shaking the other slightly, watching as the blue mech struggled to keep online, the repair-bot nearly wept in frustration when he heard jet engines… thinking it was Cons. But, as those horrid engines drew nearer, it seemed Primus could see him even on this small planet because, instead of two towering titans of hate and steal, two little sure-footed saviors landed on the pavement. Two little flying Autobots, sliding to a halt.
“We’s being hearing screaming. Who’s is…”
The two stalled, optics going bright as they both stood there a moment in horror. And Optimus didn’t blame them. He was bleeding down the helm like a dying mech and Sentinel was bleeding as well down his wrists and ankles, shaking as his optics struggled to remain online. He looked like he was offlining … if he really wasn’t.
“Primus,” whispered Jetfire and Jetstorm as they ran forward crying, “Mr. Sentinel Sir! We’s been looking all overs! Is he’s alright?”
Jetstorm was soon kneeling next to the conscious and nearly unconscious Prime, his blue hands acting like they wanted to touch his superior but unable to. Meanwhile, Jetfire merely stood over the two, looking panicked and scared. He looked far more his age, too young for such violence despite his power.
“Whats being wrong with him! What being wrong!” cried Jetfire, his voice causing Sentinel to turn his head slightly… the noise fuzzy to him as everyone’s mouths moved out of sync.
“He needs a medic. Go get Ratchet! You, comm. for some nearby help if there is any,” came a demand, Optimus’ mouth moving a moment later in a tone Sentinel didn’t recall Optimus ever having.
Despite Optimus’ urgency though, Sentinel wanted to say no, to shake his head and get back up, but he was too dizzy and his systems were going dark. He knew the head wound and the trauma from the rape were coming around. Frag, he was so out of it that he didn’t even know Optimus had pulled him into his chest and had started asking him questions.
Frag, he was so numb he barely even reacted to Jetfire flying off nor Jetstorm yelling over his comm. An orn could have passed but he was so disoriented he barely even twitched when Jazz’s alt mode raced around the corner and transformed into a skid next to the kneeling group.
“OP, what happened to him? The fly-bots were trying to give me the lowdown but the message wasn’t getting across if you know what I mean!” said the ninja-bot as he leaned down and with a careful hand titled Sentinel’s head back so he was looking him in the optics.
He couldn’t even focus on the other.
“Slag, SP… what happened?” said the ninja-bot to Optimus when he noted that Sentinel was struggling just to remain conscious and couldn’t speak. “Is the threat still around? We need some backup?”
“The threat has his helm smashed in about three miles back. Sentinel barely got free from what I understand. He had been tortured … and he didn’t want to be left behind. I didn’t want him up and about but he … can be so stubborn,” growled Optimus at the end.
“I hear you, OP. We need to get him to the ship,” said the ninja-bot as he stood up, only to stall as if he had just had an idea, “or bring the ship to us. Ratchet, you there slow-timer.”
“Stop calling me, slow … or old! I’m trying to get some tools!” replied the comm.
“Forget the tools, old timer. Jazz has a plan. Get to the ship, take Jetstorm with you and bring the ship here. The less we have to move these two, the better.”
After that, Sentinel couldn’t keep online much longer. He recalled his vision going completely dead and someone yelling and him. Frag, there was a lot of yelling, and then grumbling and jostling… and a cool surface. Yet, where was Elita? She had been with him, right? Where was she! She couldn’t leave him, not again!
Choking, form shivering he pulled himself out of his reboot, whispering, “Elita… where are you?”
Yet… her yellow form didn’t fall into his vision, instead it was a bright light and two blurs. No, no, it was Jazz … and the repair-bot’s medic. Designation Ratchet. Yes, yes. That was the name in the report he had read. H-he was in the ship’s medical bay, wasn’t he? F-frag. He had to get the medic away from him. He knew that there still had to be signs of the rape. He had to hide them. The paint scratches, the erratic spark rate … faint traces of Optimus’ fluids between his thighs and under the oil on his hands.
“Sentinel’s coming around,” said Ratchet as he turned his head. “Now get back on that berth, young-in. I still haven’t looked at your helm and … and that monstrosity attached to it. At least let the twins do a proper scan!”
Optimus, who had to be practically ripped apart from Sentinel since he was sure his old friend was dying, was still struggling with the twins as he was pushed back onto the second berth in the medical area, the lights bright and the berths online… popping up status screens for the patients’ currently in residence.
Finally giving into one of the scans, as long as he could remain sitting to try and see what was happening on the berth next to his, Optimus asked, “W-what do you mean, coming around! Did you stabilize him? Frag, where is Sari and her key when we need it!”
“Camping, remember we got that faint Cybertronian signal so Prowl, Bumblebee, and Sari when up to check on it. Sari recommended that they try this ‘camping’ thing again because the barnacles ruined it last time so they wouldn’t be back in a few days,” growled Ratchet as he pulled a wire out of the berth and started searching Sentinel’s helm for an impute jack. “And we don’t need her key. I’m perfectly capable of doing my job! Now lay down on the berth!”
“B-but is he stabilized,” said Optimus, almost whining when Jazz turned away from Sentinel and over to him.
“SP will be okay. His systems were just stressed so they were trying to pull him down into recharge and into reboot. He just passed out. Now listen to the crank-bot and lay down. We still don’t know what that device on your helm does,” said Jazz as he reached for a cord out of Optimus’ berth much like Ratchet had done, and walked forward, feeling on the side of Optimus’ helm. Then he slid a small bit of armor to the side and plunged the medical machines into Optimus’ helm. The fire-truck jolted from the sudden invasion, the medical equipment pulling up his file and ripping down his firewalls with ease as they started their examination of his systems.
“Now, just remain still. Sentinel’s systems are far more critical than yours, so let the medic-bot think,” said Jazz, his words far more professional than usual though that wasn’t much of a surprise, given his fellow crew mate looked like death was sneaking up on him.
Sighing, vents taking in air shakily, Optimus laid down his helm and placed a hand over his optics, trying to banish his worries and fears.
Sentinel, on the other hand, was struggling to keep calm. The medic was trying to plug into his helm and start the medical scans of his form to see what systems were stressed: his interfacing and spark chamber for one, and Sentinel would have none of that.
“S-stop… I-I’m fine. O-optimus’ systems were invaded. H-he could have left a virus or something. J-just let me rest. M-my systems can take care of most of the damage,” slurred the blue mech, trying to squirm away.
Ratchet just growled, pressing down. “Optimus wasn’t the one who passed out and isn’t the one who was tortured. Now. Stay. The Frag. Still.”
Tilting his head away every time Ratchet tried looking for the jack to plug in the medical computer, the blue mech tried to get his limbs to obey when he found his voice, “A-are you disobeying a d-direct order?”
Pulling away for a moment, as if surprised, Sentinel almost smiled in relief only to reel back when the old medic suddenly barked, “Don’t pull that on me, young-bot! A medic or surgeon can pull rank on any officer if their health is in question or nearly dying, covered in who knows whose oil, and half a mili-second from reboot. You can’t tell me how to do my job!”
Sentinel, helm pressing back into the berth as he tried to get away, suddenly found Jazz in his line of sight and grabbing either side of his helm, the ninja-bot smiling sadly, “Come now, boss-bot. Just let the medic do his job.”
Then, betrayal in his spark, he felt one of Jazz’s fingers slide over the slot that would allow the medical equipment to rut around in his head. Only one small sob was allowed to escape him when Ratchet clicked the impute jack into his helm and then the medical scan slammed into his helm and pass his firewalls, instantly noticing his systems needed a reboot and stabilization. He was only allowed to twitch as his hub went offline and he was forced into recharge.
Meanwhile, every-bot either in Stealhaven or being transformed or chased by mutant barnacles in the mountains, Bulkhead had been left at their warehouse base for security … a dark shadow sneaking up behind him with red optics.
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Baby Bone Lullaby