(no subject)
Title: Little One
Author: Dreamer's Way
Rated: G
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.
Summary: While being held within a Decepticon prison cell, Bulkhead has a interesting visitor....
A/N Going to have chapter 3 of Funky up soon, just editting and adding right now
EDIT: This has been beta by lafayelle
Whimpering in pain, Bulkhead strained against the chains hanging him against the wall. How did he keep getting into messes like this? He never asked for things like this to happen to him. He never asked for Soundwave to try and turn Sari against him. He never wanted that Headmaster unit to take over his body and he never, never wanted the Decepticons to find out about his knowledge on spacebridges and then threaten him into building them one.
That, he figured, was a low point in his life.
But, even all those things didn’t really add up to being stuck on a Decepticon Warship’s prison cell. Bulkhead had to wonder why they wanted with him this time. Didn’t they get the space bridge they wanted? Did they need help in trying to find Megatron because he was lost through the bridge? He prayed to Primus that they didn’t. The last few days of quiet after the battle, he couldn’t stand to look the others in the optic. It was his fault, for the lost of Blurr and Omega Supreme and for the fighting between Sari and her father. It would have been better if he were just pulled apart by the bridge itself into small pieces.
Hearing footsteps, he weakly looked up to see a large form outside of his cell. He tried to make out who it was, but it was no one he was familiar with.
Oh joy, Bulkhead had to wonder when the others were going to come and save him or if they weren’t going to bother. He was on a patrol when he was botnapped so it might be awhile until they noticed. But again, with all that had happened, would they even care?
“You are the one they call Bulkhead,” the Con said in a low tone, a femme’s voice actually. That surprised the large Autobot as he couldn’t image a femme with such a heavy body structure like that. Mostly they were always built like that other femmes - Autobot or Decepticon - all sleek and thin. She was almost as large as himself or Lugnut even.
“What do you want with me?” he coughed out, still sore from the beating he had gained. He actually didn’t remember much of the attack. All that came to mind were two mechs; one like Prowl and the other some kind of monster. The next thing he knew he found himself in here with half energy readings and energon dripping from his jaw and right side.
“You haven’t answered the question!” she shouted at him, banging her fist against the bars as her red optics flashed towards him, “Are you Bulkhead, creation of Hoist and Grapple?!”
That was enough to gain his attention, “H-H-How did you know them?” he gasped out.
“I have my methods,” she said, easing up which scared Bulkhead even more. Why did she want to know his name for? When she opened the cell door and entered inside, he tried harder to move out of her way, but it was difficult with the chains around his wrists.
“Do you know that Grapple and Hoist aren’t your real creators?” she questioned, coming closer to him.
Nodding his head, Bulkhead knew that Grapple and Hoist weren’t the ones to spark him. They told him when he was old enough and still treated him like he was though. They loved him, always made sure that he had energon to eat. They always wrote and send gifts when he was in Boot Camp and when their team was found to still be alive on Earth, they were the first of family and friends to contact their group and Hoist pretty much had to hold Grapple back from coming down as she was sobbing after almost losing her Sparklet.
“I have waited a long time to see you again....” she said, her tone of voice now different. It was what a femme would sound like talking to a sparkling or youngling, caring and gentle. That shouldn’t be a voice for a Decepticon.
“I never seen you my whole life,” choked Bulkhead as his systems started to panic, “I don’t even know you.”
“I am Strika, little one.”
Now Bulkhead was in full on panic mode. Strika! STRIKA! This femme was only one he seen in Optimus’ history holos. She could tear a mech with her bare hands, Megatron’s personal General of Destruction! He was going to die, no doubt it now.
“You don’t have to be afraid, I will not harm you nor anyone else on the ship. I am sorry that Oil Slick and Spittor had to be rough with you, but I am sure you wouldn’t come willing with them,” she said, standing over him. Bulkhead saw into her optics and the concern and loving in them and thought them to be out of place on the killer femme. Her whole facade was making him shake in his armour. Why was she being so nice to him? Was this some game?
“I-I-I’m not telling you anything! I’m not going to help you in your plans this time!” he spoke, trying to at least sound braver than he actually felt on the inside.
“I do not want nor care about any information you might have. Though your skills will become useful to us once you get settled in your new home,” she replied, more business-like than before.
“I am not going to help you!” Bulkhead shouted.
Strika snarled as she drove her fist through the air and slammed into the area of the wall next to Bulkhead’s head. The young Autobot stared in fear at how close it was to hitting his own head. The old femme lean down and their optics met together, her own glared so deep into him that Bulkhead thought for sure she was looking right into his spark.
“I see that your time with the Autobots have made you soft and your true programming has yet to appear. That is something I shall have to fix” she spoke, “You shall be doing what you were sparked to do soon. It is something I should have been able to do since you were created.”
Bulkhead sat there speechless as she removed her fist from the wall, the small pieces of it falling on to his shoulder and leaving a large hole in it. He turned his head back towards her, fear painted clearly across his face. That loving face came back as she moved her over and started to stroke his face like Grapple would do whenever he got upset over destroying one of her projects. It felt nice, but he knew it shouldn’t. She was a Decepticon. He wasn’t supposed to be comforted by her contact at all..
"Little one, I shall make everything right for you,” Strika said, “You shall have the proper family you should have had all those eons ago.”
What the slag did she mean by that? Bulkhead didn’t know, nor did he want to know. Primus, the team better be on their way now.
He might not be here when they finally did.