Protect You for Always - Chapter 1
Title: Protect You For Always Chapter 1
Characters: Skyfire/Skywarp, Skyfire/Starscream
Description: Skywarp has a nasty crash and finds himself heavily damaged in the middle of nowhere. Skyfire comes to his rescue, if you call being tied up rescued. Skywarp is carefully cared for and repaired by a very gentle giant, but what's the motive here? What's really going on? Non-sticky, T, alot of unwanted physical affection, but no consummation.
Original Prompt: Found here. I uh, dinked with it, as you can see.
He hurt. He hurt and he was falling.
Something one of the autobots had brought with them had exploded. Skywarp had warped his way over to it with the intention of blowing it to bits, and BOOM. He didn't know who else had been caught in the blast, but he'd teleported out immediately. In retrospect, that had been pretty dumb.
Now he had no idea where he was.
He collided with the ground in a sickening crunch of plating and groaning mechanics, armour sizzling with heat. Skywarp grit his denta and bit back a scream as he attempted to roll off his wing, damage warnings screaming in his CPU. He didn't want to look at it, but he could feel where the wing had cracked near its anchoring, wires and circuits exposed and sparking. His second attempt got him onto his front, panting with exertion.
From what Skywarp could see, every inch of his frame had been charred an ashy black by the blast. No purple, no white, no gleaming metallic darkness, just dull, painful black. Barely able to move, he attempted to com. for help, only to find his communication lines filled with static. He groaned again, sinking his face into the dirt. Great. He'd have to find a way to get himself out of here alone.
He brought his head up to get his bearings, and the movement of his neck caused his optics to short out and the world to go black. If he didn't hurt so much, Skywarp would have punched the ground in frustration. Great. Now he was grounded, heavily damaged, unable to call for help, and blind. Best of all, those multiple warnings that kept popping up seemed to be getting more urgent. He was going to be forced into emergency stasis soon, and then how would anyone find him?
Okay, he could deal with this. He'd warp back somewhere close to base. That was what he did after all. He kept his destination in mind and made the command.
Blinding pain tore through Skywarp at the attempt to teleport, and he felt a few more systems fizzle out and shut down from the failure, warnings popping up briefly before even they were annulled in an automatic effort to preserve all energy to his vital systems.
Skywarp made to holler out for help, and found that his vocalizer was damaged. Somehow, he'd shorted that out too. The only sound he could make was a high raspy "'Alp!" He couldn't even form words, much less shout. How would anyone find him and drag him in for repairs? His situation was just getting worse by the minute, his chassis damned to be lost in the middle of nowhere, left to rust and decay.
Or was it?
Everything else might have been malfunctioning, but Skywarp’s audio receptors were working just fine. And something very, very big had landed nearby. As he slipped out of consciousness he called out with that husky little sound once more, hoping that it was Astrotrain or someone else who'd get him back to base.
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When Skywarp rebooted, he was still on his front, and still in pain. Not as sharp and demanding as before, but a dull ache that he could easily tolerate. Well that was an improvement, even if he still couldn't see. Multiple attempts to reboot his optic sensors and vision feeds only gave him error messages and inquiries. Frustrating, but he still had his proximity sensors and audial feed. He'd get around; it'd just be awkward. Right.
It wasn't until he tried to get upright that Skywarp finally panicked.
He was trapped. He was trapped and he couldn't get out and he couldn't move and everything was too close and constricted. And his vents weren't working now and he was going to overheat, he was going to overheat- no. No he wasn't. He wasn't in a small space, he was just restrained.
Skywarp took a deep intake and tried to steady himself. All the readings his sensors gave him indicated he was in some kind of cave, but a large one. It was a big space. A huge space.
He couldn't move because someone had tied him down.
Taking another deep vent to cool his systems, Skywarp considered his options. First thing to try was obvious.
Maybe not. An attempt to teleport free was quickly aborted when it automatically set a line of white-hot pain down his backstrut and all through his helm. Okay. Warping was still a bad idea. So what about thrashing, breaking free? He was pretty strong, seekers might not be the biggest of mechs, but they were a fair size.
So Skywarp bucked and squirmed, tossed himself to the left, then the right, arched upward as much as his bonds would allow, and found that he wasn't allowed enough room to gain any kind of leverage or momentum.
He sank back onto his prison. Great. Now what?
Thinking was what was needed here, but thinking was not what Skywarp did. He was a do-er, slag it, he was a mech living in the now.
He'd just have to think like someone else then. What was that thing TC always said? To use his head? Yes, something like that. And if his head wasn't good enough, try to think of what someone else might do.
Okay then. What would TC do? Well, he'd think things through, for a start. He wouldn't panic, he'd stay and quiet and think. He'd... Call for help! On his com. line!
Skywarp felt immensely pleased with himself for having been so clever. True, he should have tried this again earlier, but what was important was he'd thought to try it now. He opened the first line in his priority listing, the one that ran to TC, and got static. That was alright, he was probably out of range. Keeping himself as optimistic as he could, he tried Starscream, but no, he must be near TC. Okay, that made sense. Why wouldn't he be near Thundercracker? Next up was the trine line, but again, static was all he could muster out of it. The same results appeared for both the general seeker lines, and flier lines. Skywarp did not let panic reassert itself yet; after all, he was in a cave, possibly underground, and his fellow fliers might be airborne. So he tried the grounders. Nothing. General troop lines? Squat.
Alright, thinking like Thundercracker had yielded poor results. What about thinking like Starscream?
No, then he'd just have a hissy fit, and he'd already done enough thrashing.
That wasn't really fair though. Starscream did more than throw tantrums. He was often as cool and calculating as he was whiny, and if the com. lines were all down, and he couldn't find an obvious way out, the first thing Starscream would probably do would be to take proper stock of the situation.
Stock. Right. Well, he was laid out on his cockpit, but given enough room to tilt to one side or the other so he wouldn't get uncomfortable. Whoever brought him down here knew how seekers didn't like reclining on their wings, or flush to the berth on their fronts, which grated on the glass of their cockpits. They were also not out to cause him too much discomfort, if that were the case.
His arms and legs were shackled, with chains leading to the four corners of his current prison. Skywarp had been allowed enough slack to shift and relax his arms, but not enough to bring them close to him, or even have them in any position but extending away from his body. And his null rays had definitely been removed.
Not a cruel jailer, but not a stupid one either.
Pain was still present, but not unbearable. His wing, the one he had landed on, felt like it had been patched up, but needed some work. Of all his body, it ached the most, and twitching it experimentally caused sharp pain. Skywarp grit his denta and twitched it again, checking for specific damage. The way the air stroked against the leading edge and the tip seemed to indicate his right wing had been dented and bent into a bad angle, and was entirely too loose at the bottom of its moorings. If he did get out, he wouldn't be able to fly well, or at all.
Skywarp was still musing on how he could escape when he heard someone land. Someone very heavy and not too far away. Whoever it was was very big, but trying to move very quietly. Skywarp kept still, listening.
Pede steps drew closer to his- no, not a cell. Whatever he was chained down to, it wasn't enclosed. His sensors weren't picking up any walls near enough to indicate a cell or cage. If he'd had any doubt, they were banished when those big careful steps stopped and the stranger seated themselves next to him.
Skywarp tried not to squirm, and faked unconsciousness. Think about the situation, like Thundercracker would do. Observe and plot, like Starscream.
The large (huge, his sensors were saying) mech next to him didn't move, just rested nearby. Skywarp felt the uncomfortable tingle that comes with being observed. They sat like that for a bream, Skywarp pretending he was still in stasis, his captor watching him, both of them holding very still. The seeker wasn't sure how much of this he could take.
Finally, the big mech made the first move, bringing his hand down to stroke his fingertips along the groove on the top of Skywarp's helm. He jerked his head away and tried to snap at the offender, to tell him to get his slagging servos off of him, to frag off, that he wouldn't talk, but all that came out was a series of rasping growls and high chirps. Skywarp huffed in agitation and continued straining away, cursing his broken vocalizer.
The servo came back, gentle but insistent, rubbing his arm. Skywarp tried to swear.
"It's just me. I won't hurt you, you know that. I'd never hurt you. Take it easy. We're in a safe place here."
Skywarp continued twisting away and grunting. The voice wasn't one he really knew, but it was recognisable, definitely someone he should remember. Familiar. He tried to place it when he felt one of his arms being uncuffed, and immediately went to swing a fist. Still being trapped on his belly made this futile, and his captor just grabbed his arm and pinned it before leaning over to unlatch his left. The massive weight pressing down on him quelled any more struggles until Skywarp’s wrists were cuffed under his wings. The weight finally lifted and he lunged to shoulder check the other mech. The lurch caused him to wrench his wing, and brought the unwelcome discovery of other injuries he'd forgotten. His bold charge was brought to a screeching halt, landing with a painful clang against the mech sitting next to him.
"Oh, hey now, don't do that."
Again with the petting! Skywarp tried to wriggle away, but was quickly scooped up to another hiss of pain, sensors screaming at him about the damaged areas being agitated by the movement.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm going to fix that, I promise. I'll take care of you."
He never stopped squirming or rasping what protests he could as the giant mech cradled him to his chest, holding Skywarp under the wings and keeping a hand across his undamaged one to keep him close without causing further discomfort. When his legs were freed, Skywarp attempted to kick and thrash, but that too was thwarted by sheer size and strength pinning them down. He still couldn't see a blasted thing, but he could feel himself being rearranged on the mech's lap, chassis pressing together, both his legs to one side of giant thighs, but barely dangling due to the size difference between the two. He twisted his head away with a grunt when he felt his helm being stroked again. He knew that voice.
And now they were rocking, very gently and slow, the big mech hushing and cooing to him the entire time, as though he were a pet, or an autobot mechling in need of codling. Unable to move his arms, and his legs' position leaving him with no option but thrashing them peevishly, Skywarp attempted to head butt his captor. This did him more damage then the big mech, his helm clanging solidly against the other body's chest plating. Heavy chest plating. Now Skywarp had a headache to go with the sharp jolt of wrenching his wing. He rasped in an attempt to swear as his head was forcefully cradled down, fingers rubbing back and forth along the back of his head and neck.
"You need to stop that, you're only hurting yourself. I know, I know. I understand that you're angry and frustrated, but this is for the best. Really it is. I'm going to take care of you. I'll fix up your wing and repair the rest of you, and soon you'll be in perfect condition, beautiful as you ever were- not that you're not beautiful now, I just don't like seeing you in pain."
This was all just confusing. Why did this autobot (Skywarp assumed it was an autobot, otherwise, he'd be able to place his voice) keep speaking to him like he knew him? And knew him intimately? Did he have some kind of screw loose, or a glitch? Now there was a scary though, being at the mercy of some glitch-ridden giant.
Glitch ridden giant. That should ring a bell. Who did he know that was massive and idiotic? A soft touch?
Who did he know?
...Ah-ha!
Whatsisface. Starscream's frozen shuttle. Skywarp still couldn't remember his name, but everything fit. The size, the frustrating gentleness, thick plating for flying through space for long periods. And he knew about Seekers. Well, he'd have to, if he'd known Starscream as well as Skywarp assumed he had. His trine leader wasn't that friendly with just any bot out of the blue, or that trusting. The big turncoat hadn't known much about fighting either, which fit with how he'd restrained Skywarp, and was restraining him now. No battle knowledge, no holds, just using the advantage of his greater strength and weight.
Whatsisface. Definitely whatsisface.
The shuttle was moving him again now, transferring his grip so that he'd have one arm free. Skywarp squirmed and tried to headbutt him again, before stiffening up when they both leaned forward, unnerved by the movement. He didn't like not being able to see, especially when he wasn't in charge of his own balance. He still had his proximity sensors, but the sensations they delivered only heightened his disorientation like this.
What was the stupid autobot doing? He could hear him rummaging around by the berth, fiddling with something. Opening a container? Skywarp leaned in, curious despite himself. He could hear something slosh.
"There we go, let's get back up then. I bet you're starving." They had returned to a sitting position now, and Skywarp had to admit the shuttle was correct. He didn't know how long he'd been out, but his tanks were running uncomfortably low. Not that he'd tell the shuttle that. Motion again, the bigger mech shifting, doing something with his other arm. Skywarp's sensors picked up movement coming toward his face.
"Drink up."
Oh frag no.
Skywarp twisted his head away, lip components pressed together in a tight, disgusted frown. He wasn't hungry enough to be hand fed like a gear-stripped invalid.
"Come on, be good. I got you some of the nicer stuff. Not high grade, mind you, I don't think your tanks can take that yet, but it's nice. It has that light viscosity you like."
Skywarp kept whipping his head away from where the cube followed him, childish, but affective. He'd made the shuttle spill a bit on him, but that was better than being fed. The mech sighed.
"I know you don't like this, but you really do need to get something in your systems. I can't uncuff you or you'll just attack me and leave. Which would be pointless, by the way. You can't fly, and you can't run. You wouldn't even get past the berth. Come on now, please? I don't want to have to force you."
Well he slag well was going to have to force him! As petulant and pointless as it was, Skywarp was not giving in without a fight. After a few more spills, the shuttle pushed him back against his chassis with the bulk of his arm, and used his hand to force the seeker's mandible open a little, lip curling, gentle but undeniable in his pressure. Two digits were poked into the corners of his mouth to keep it open, and Skywarp bit, not that it did him any good. The shuttle's plating was thick everywhere, it seemed.
Chin tilted back, the cube was brought back to his lips and its contents gently poured down his intake, little bits at a time. The entire process was long and humiliating, filled with gentle encouragement in his audios, praise every time he swallowed. Finally, the cube was empty, most of it having gotten into Skywarp, with a bit spilled on him or running out the corners of his mouth and down his chin from his attempts to spit it back out, just to be contrary. The shuttle whiped a bit from his jaw, tsking.
"We made a bit of a mess, didn't we? Have to clean you back up before I go."
Skywarp stiffened as they tilted forward again, feeling the mech's chassis shift behind him as he grabbed something from the floor. He yelped with a jerk when he felt something rub down his thigh.
"Hey, hey, you're alright. That's just a cloth. See?" Something soft stroked his face and Skywarp twisted away. His chin was grabbed and turned back with the same gentle force as his feeding.
He squirmed, embarrassed at the coddling, and frustrated that he was still too weak to offer any proper resistance. The shuttle wouldn't allow Skywarp to move enough to damage himself, though the jet would gladly put up with the pain just to get away from him.
Along his jaw the cloth wiped, than around his neck cables and collar faring. Over the top of his turbine housing, down into the those sensitive casings, which made Skywarp writhe and the shuttle chuckle. He rotated them with a finger before moving on, Skywarp biting back a gasp at the stimulation. Now down his abdominal plating, massive fingers poking the ticklish cloth into seams where their broad tips could not reach.
"You were always such a sensitive little thing." Chuckles accompanied Skywarp's squirming, amusement at his displeasure and response to the strong, swiping cloth.
Last came the embarrassing, reverent stokes over his pelvic and hip armour, and finally whiping up the inside of Skywarp's thighs.
He was almost relieved when he was laid back onto the berth, just not to be touched and teased anymore. He still fought for his freedom, but was quickly chained up as he had been before. He hoped the shuttle would just leave him alone, but the mech was still sitting there, looking at him. All big and dumb and happy.
Skywarp wanted to shoot him behind the knees.
He started petting his helm again.
"I know you're not happy."
Really? How did he come to that conclusion?
"But I couldn't just leave you out there like that. It hurt to leave you the first time, you understand? And I couldn't... I couldn't just leave you alone in the wilderness like that, trapped... I've been trapped. You saw me when I was trapped. And you saved me."
Servos were running across the expanse of his uninjured wing now, tracing his stripes. Skywarp shuddered.
"You're so beautiful. I'll never get over how beautiful you are."
A thumb brushed over his wingtip, and Skywarp bucked with a hiss. That had felt good, and he didn't want it, not from an autobot. Not from some idiot shuttle who couldn't even decide what side he was on.
The hand strayed back up to his head for a final caress before slipping back off as the mech finally, finally stood up to leave.
"You saved me once, and now it’s my turn to fix you."
He was moving things again, looking for something. Skywarp turned his head, hoping his sensors could give him some kind of a clue when his proximity alerts went off and he felt an object brush against a port in his arm. He jerked away.
"I'm going to make everything right. You don't understand now, but you'll see."
His arm was pinned, and the item plugged into it. He heard a hydraulic hiss and something ran across his systems. His head felt heavy.
"You'll see."
Another affectionate stroke to his helm, and a hand trailing down his body as the shuttle left, heavy footsteps taking him away from the berth. Skywarp fought to stay awake and listen and think, but he was just so tired. And his helm was so heavy. So heavy.
It didn't take long for him to go into stasis.
Characters: Skyfire/Skywarp, Skyfire/Starscream
Description: Skywarp has a nasty crash and finds himself heavily damaged in the middle of nowhere. Skyfire comes to his rescue, if you call being tied up rescued. Skywarp is carefully cared for and repaired by a very gentle giant, but what's the motive here? What's really going on? Non-sticky, T, alot of unwanted physical affection, but no consummation.
Original Prompt: Found here. I uh, dinked with it, as you can see.
He hurt. He hurt and he was falling.
Something one of the autobots had brought with them had exploded. Skywarp had warped his way over to it with the intention of blowing it to bits, and BOOM. He didn't know who else had been caught in the blast, but he'd teleported out immediately. In retrospect, that had been pretty dumb.
Now he had no idea where he was.
He collided with the ground in a sickening crunch of plating and groaning mechanics, armour sizzling with heat. Skywarp grit his denta and bit back a scream as he attempted to roll off his wing, damage warnings screaming in his CPU. He didn't want to look at it, but he could feel where the wing had cracked near its anchoring, wires and circuits exposed and sparking. His second attempt got him onto his front, panting with exertion.
From what Skywarp could see, every inch of his frame had been charred an ashy black by the blast. No purple, no white, no gleaming metallic darkness, just dull, painful black. Barely able to move, he attempted to com. for help, only to find his communication lines filled with static. He groaned again, sinking his face into the dirt. Great. He'd have to find a way to get himself out of here alone.
He brought his head up to get his bearings, and the movement of his neck caused his optics to short out and the world to go black. If he didn't hurt so much, Skywarp would have punched the ground in frustration. Great. Now he was grounded, heavily damaged, unable to call for help, and blind. Best of all, those multiple warnings that kept popping up seemed to be getting more urgent. He was going to be forced into emergency stasis soon, and then how would anyone find him?
Okay, he could deal with this. He'd warp back somewhere close to base. That was what he did after all. He kept his destination in mind and made the command.
Blinding pain tore through Skywarp at the attempt to teleport, and he felt a few more systems fizzle out and shut down from the failure, warnings popping up briefly before even they were annulled in an automatic effort to preserve all energy to his vital systems.
Skywarp made to holler out for help, and found that his vocalizer was damaged. Somehow, he'd shorted that out too. The only sound he could make was a high raspy "'Alp!" He couldn't even form words, much less shout. How would anyone find him and drag him in for repairs? His situation was just getting worse by the minute, his chassis damned to be lost in the middle of nowhere, left to rust and decay.
Or was it?
Everything else might have been malfunctioning, but Skywarp’s audio receptors were working just fine. And something very, very big had landed nearby. As he slipped out of consciousness he called out with that husky little sound once more, hoping that it was Astrotrain or someone else who'd get him back to base.
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When Skywarp rebooted, he was still on his front, and still in pain. Not as sharp and demanding as before, but a dull ache that he could easily tolerate. Well that was an improvement, even if he still couldn't see. Multiple attempts to reboot his optic sensors and vision feeds only gave him error messages and inquiries. Frustrating, but he still had his proximity sensors and audial feed. He'd get around; it'd just be awkward. Right.
It wasn't until he tried to get upright that Skywarp finally panicked.
He was trapped. He was trapped and he couldn't get out and he couldn't move and everything was too close and constricted. And his vents weren't working now and he was going to overheat, he was going to overheat- no. No he wasn't. He wasn't in a small space, he was just restrained.
Skywarp took a deep intake and tried to steady himself. All the readings his sensors gave him indicated he was in some kind of cave, but a large one. It was a big space. A huge space.
He couldn't move because someone had tied him down.
Taking another deep vent to cool his systems, Skywarp considered his options. First thing to try was obvious.
Maybe not. An attempt to teleport free was quickly aborted when it automatically set a line of white-hot pain down his backstrut and all through his helm. Okay. Warping was still a bad idea. So what about thrashing, breaking free? He was pretty strong, seekers might not be the biggest of mechs, but they were a fair size.
So Skywarp bucked and squirmed, tossed himself to the left, then the right, arched upward as much as his bonds would allow, and found that he wasn't allowed enough room to gain any kind of leverage or momentum.
He sank back onto his prison. Great. Now what?
Thinking was what was needed here, but thinking was not what Skywarp did. He was a do-er, slag it, he was a mech living in the now.
He'd just have to think like someone else then. What was that thing TC always said? To use his head? Yes, something like that. And if his head wasn't good enough, try to think of what someone else might do.
Okay then. What would TC do? Well, he'd think things through, for a start. He wouldn't panic, he'd stay and quiet and think. He'd... Call for help! On his com. line!
Skywarp felt immensely pleased with himself for having been so clever. True, he should have tried this again earlier, but what was important was he'd thought to try it now. He opened the first line in his priority listing, the one that ran to TC, and got static. That was alright, he was probably out of range. Keeping himself as optimistic as he could, he tried Starscream, but no, he must be near TC. Okay, that made sense. Why wouldn't he be near Thundercracker? Next up was the trine line, but again, static was all he could muster out of it. The same results appeared for both the general seeker lines, and flier lines. Skywarp did not let panic reassert itself yet; after all, he was in a cave, possibly underground, and his fellow fliers might be airborne. So he tried the grounders. Nothing. General troop lines? Squat.
Alright, thinking like Thundercracker had yielded poor results. What about thinking like Starscream?
No, then he'd just have a hissy fit, and he'd already done enough thrashing.
That wasn't really fair though. Starscream did more than throw tantrums. He was often as cool and calculating as he was whiny, and if the com. lines were all down, and he couldn't find an obvious way out, the first thing Starscream would probably do would be to take proper stock of the situation.
Stock. Right. Well, he was laid out on his cockpit, but given enough room to tilt to one side or the other so he wouldn't get uncomfortable. Whoever brought him down here knew how seekers didn't like reclining on their wings, or flush to the berth on their fronts, which grated on the glass of their cockpits. They were also not out to cause him too much discomfort, if that were the case.
His arms and legs were shackled, with chains leading to the four corners of his current prison. Skywarp had been allowed enough slack to shift and relax his arms, but not enough to bring them close to him, or even have them in any position but extending away from his body. And his null rays had definitely been removed.
Not a cruel jailer, but not a stupid one either.
Pain was still present, but not unbearable. His wing, the one he had landed on, felt like it had been patched up, but needed some work. Of all his body, it ached the most, and twitching it experimentally caused sharp pain. Skywarp grit his denta and twitched it again, checking for specific damage. The way the air stroked against the leading edge and the tip seemed to indicate his right wing had been dented and bent into a bad angle, and was entirely too loose at the bottom of its moorings. If he did get out, he wouldn't be able to fly well, or at all.
Skywarp was still musing on how he could escape when he heard someone land. Someone very heavy and not too far away. Whoever it was was very big, but trying to move very quietly. Skywarp kept still, listening.
Pede steps drew closer to his- no, not a cell. Whatever he was chained down to, it wasn't enclosed. His sensors weren't picking up any walls near enough to indicate a cell or cage. If he'd had any doubt, they were banished when those big careful steps stopped and the stranger seated themselves next to him.
Skywarp tried not to squirm, and faked unconsciousness. Think about the situation, like Thundercracker would do. Observe and plot, like Starscream.
The large (huge, his sensors were saying) mech next to him didn't move, just rested nearby. Skywarp felt the uncomfortable tingle that comes with being observed. They sat like that for a bream, Skywarp pretending he was still in stasis, his captor watching him, both of them holding very still. The seeker wasn't sure how much of this he could take.
Finally, the big mech made the first move, bringing his hand down to stroke his fingertips along the groove on the top of Skywarp's helm. He jerked his head away and tried to snap at the offender, to tell him to get his slagging servos off of him, to frag off, that he wouldn't talk, but all that came out was a series of rasping growls and high chirps. Skywarp huffed in agitation and continued straining away, cursing his broken vocalizer.
The servo came back, gentle but insistent, rubbing his arm. Skywarp tried to swear.
"It's just me. I won't hurt you, you know that. I'd never hurt you. Take it easy. We're in a safe place here."
Skywarp continued twisting away and grunting. The voice wasn't one he really knew, but it was recognisable, definitely someone he should remember. Familiar. He tried to place it when he felt one of his arms being uncuffed, and immediately went to swing a fist. Still being trapped on his belly made this futile, and his captor just grabbed his arm and pinned it before leaning over to unlatch his left. The massive weight pressing down on him quelled any more struggles until Skywarp’s wrists were cuffed under his wings. The weight finally lifted and he lunged to shoulder check the other mech. The lurch caused him to wrench his wing, and brought the unwelcome discovery of other injuries he'd forgotten. His bold charge was brought to a screeching halt, landing with a painful clang against the mech sitting next to him.
"Oh, hey now, don't do that."
Again with the petting! Skywarp tried to wriggle away, but was quickly scooped up to another hiss of pain, sensors screaming at him about the damaged areas being agitated by the movement.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm going to fix that, I promise. I'll take care of you."
He never stopped squirming or rasping what protests he could as the giant mech cradled him to his chest, holding Skywarp under the wings and keeping a hand across his undamaged one to keep him close without causing further discomfort. When his legs were freed, Skywarp attempted to kick and thrash, but that too was thwarted by sheer size and strength pinning them down. He still couldn't see a blasted thing, but he could feel himself being rearranged on the mech's lap, chassis pressing together, both his legs to one side of giant thighs, but barely dangling due to the size difference between the two. He twisted his head away with a grunt when he felt his helm being stroked again. He knew that voice.
And now they were rocking, very gently and slow, the big mech hushing and cooing to him the entire time, as though he were a pet, or an autobot mechling in need of codling. Unable to move his arms, and his legs' position leaving him with no option but thrashing them peevishly, Skywarp attempted to head butt his captor. This did him more damage then the big mech, his helm clanging solidly against the other body's chest plating. Heavy chest plating. Now Skywarp had a headache to go with the sharp jolt of wrenching his wing. He rasped in an attempt to swear as his head was forcefully cradled down, fingers rubbing back and forth along the back of his head and neck.
"You need to stop that, you're only hurting yourself. I know, I know. I understand that you're angry and frustrated, but this is for the best. Really it is. I'm going to take care of you. I'll fix up your wing and repair the rest of you, and soon you'll be in perfect condition, beautiful as you ever were- not that you're not beautiful now, I just don't like seeing you in pain."
This was all just confusing. Why did this autobot (Skywarp assumed it was an autobot, otherwise, he'd be able to place his voice) keep speaking to him like he knew him? And knew him intimately? Did he have some kind of screw loose, or a glitch? Now there was a scary though, being at the mercy of some glitch-ridden giant.
Glitch ridden giant. That should ring a bell. Who did he know that was massive and idiotic? A soft touch?
Who did he know?
...Ah-ha!
Whatsisface. Starscream's frozen shuttle. Skywarp still couldn't remember his name, but everything fit. The size, the frustrating gentleness, thick plating for flying through space for long periods. And he knew about Seekers. Well, he'd have to, if he'd known Starscream as well as Skywarp assumed he had. His trine leader wasn't that friendly with just any bot out of the blue, or that trusting. The big turncoat hadn't known much about fighting either, which fit with how he'd restrained Skywarp, and was restraining him now. No battle knowledge, no holds, just using the advantage of his greater strength and weight.
Whatsisface. Definitely whatsisface.
The shuttle was moving him again now, transferring his grip so that he'd have one arm free. Skywarp squirmed and tried to headbutt him again, before stiffening up when they both leaned forward, unnerved by the movement. He didn't like not being able to see, especially when he wasn't in charge of his own balance. He still had his proximity sensors, but the sensations they delivered only heightened his disorientation like this.
What was the stupid autobot doing? He could hear him rummaging around by the berth, fiddling with something. Opening a container? Skywarp leaned in, curious despite himself. He could hear something slosh.
"There we go, let's get back up then. I bet you're starving." They had returned to a sitting position now, and Skywarp had to admit the shuttle was correct. He didn't know how long he'd been out, but his tanks were running uncomfortably low. Not that he'd tell the shuttle that. Motion again, the bigger mech shifting, doing something with his other arm. Skywarp's sensors picked up movement coming toward his face.
"Drink up."
Oh frag no.
Skywarp twisted his head away, lip components pressed together in a tight, disgusted frown. He wasn't hungry enough to be hand fed like a gear-stripped invalid.
"Come on, be good. I got you some of the nicer stuff. Not high grade, mind you, I don't think your tanks can take that yet, but it's nice. It has that light viscosity you like."
Skywarp kept whipping his head away from where the cube followed him, childish, but affective. He'd made the shuttle spill a bit on him, but that was better than being fed. The mech sighed.
"I know you don't like this, but you really do need to get something in your systems. I can't uncuff you or you'll just attack me and leave. Which would be pointless, by the way. You can't fly, and you can't run. You wouldn't even get past the berth. Come on now, please? I don't want to have to force you."
Well he slag well was going to have to force him! As petulant and pointless as it was, Skywarp was not giving in without a fight. After a few more spills, the shuttle pushed him back against his chassis with the bulk of his arm, and used his hand to force the seeker's mandible open a little, lip curling, gentle but undeniable in his pressure. Two digits were poked into the corners of his mouth to keep it open, and Skywarp bit, not that it did him any good. The shuttle's plating was thick everywhere, it seemed.
Chin tilted back, the cube was brought back to his lips and its contents gently poured down his intake, little bits at a time. The entire process was long and humiliating, filled with gentle encouragement in his audios, praise every time he swallowed. Finally, the cube was empty, most of it having gotten into Skywarp, with a bit spilled on him or running out the corners of his mouth and down his chin from his attempts to spit it back out, just to be contrary. The shuttle whiped a bit from his jaw, tsking.
"We made a bit of a mess, didn't we? Have to clean you back up before I go."
Skywarp stiffened as they tilted forward again, feeling the mech's chassis shift behind him as he grabbed something from the floor. He yelped with a jerk when he felt something rub down his thigh.
"Hey, hey, you're alright. That's just a cloth. See?" Something soft stroked his face and Skywarp twisted away. His chin was grabbed and turned back with the same gentle force as his feeding.
He squirmed, embarrassed at the coddling, and frustrated that he was still too weak to offer any proper resistance. The shuttle wouldn't allow Skywarp to move enough to damage himself, though the jet would gladly put up with the pain just to get away from him.
Along his jaw the cloth wiped, than around his neck cables and collar faring. Over the top of his turbine housing, down into the those sensitive casings, which made Skywarp writhe and the shuttle chuckle. He rotated them with a finger before moving on, Skywarp biting back a gasp at the stimulation. Now down his abdominal plating, massive fingers poking the ticklish cloth into seams where their broad tips could not reach.
"You were always such a sensitive little thing." Chuckles accompanied Skywarp's squirming, amusement at his displeasure and response to the strong, swiping cloth.
Last came the embarrassing, reverent stokes over his pelvic and hip armour, and finally whiping up the inside of Skywarp's thighs.
He was almost relieved when he was laid back onto the berth, just not to be touched and teased anymore. He still fought for his freedom, but was quickly chained up as he had been before. He hoped the shuttle would just leave him alone, but the mech was still sitting there, looking at him. All big and dumb and happy.
Skywarp wanted to shoot him behind the knees.
He started petting his helm again.
"I know you're not happy."
Really? How did he come to that conclusion?
"But I couldn't just leave you out there like that. It hurt to leave you the first time, you understand? And I couldn't... I couldn't just leave you alone in the wilderness like that, trapped... I've been trapped. You saw me when I was trapped. And you saved me."
Servos were running across the expanse of his uninjured wing now, tracing his stripes. Skywarp shuddered.
"You're so beautiful. I'll never get over how beautiful you are."
A thumb brushed over his wingtip, and Skywarp bucked with a hiss. That had felt good, and he didn't want it, not from an autobot. Not from some idiot shuttle who couldn't even decide what side he was on.
The hand strayed back up to his head for a final caress before slipping back off as the mech finally, finally stood up to leave.
"You saved me once, and now it’s my turn to fix you."
He was moving things again, looking for something. Skywarp turned his head, hoping his sensors could give him some kind of a clue when his proximity alerts went off and he felt an object brush against a port in his arm. He jerked away.
"I'm going to make everything right. You don't understand now, but you'll see."
His arm was pinned, and the item plugged into it. He heard a hydraulic hiss and something ran across his systems. His head felt heavy.
"You'll see."
Another affectionate stroke to his helm, and a hand trailing down his body as the shuttle left, heavy footsteps taking him away from the berth. Skywarp fought to stay awake and listen and think, but he was just so tired. And his helm was so heavy. So heavy.
It didn't take long for him to go into stasis.