Shattered Affections Chapter 5
Title: Shattered Affections
Fandom: Transformers AU
Author: deathmustang
Pairing/Characters: Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Ratchet
Disclaimer: Transformers is not mine, I just have fun writing with the characters
This was done with the help of my pal and beta ledishae!
Sorry for not posting in so long I've had a major block, but recently I've become inspired to write again. I hope this was wurth the wait.
When they returned to the palace all involved in the fight were waiting for them in the foyer. The assorted guards and maids were lined up before the massive stairwell leading to the lords’ chamber. Ratchet was forced to stand beside the Lords, Sideswipe’s arm wrapped protectively around his waist. Ratchet prayed to Primus that the innocents in this fiasco would not be punished too harshly. Still one question left unasked filled him with dread, why was he here and not back in the Lords' chambers yet? He had escaped, so why had they not taken him back? He should be suffering agony and humiliation as they dealt him his punishment.
The screeching high voice of a femme wrenched him from his troubled thoughts. Ratchet looked to the side where a young femme dressed in fine, garish silks of emerald and sapphire cloth stood thrashing and cursing at the Lords from where she was pinned between two of the tallest guards. The femme was the concubine Trixivic.
“Trixivic, what was the meaning of that fight?” Sunstreaker rumbled calmly, his lethally smooth voice stilling the entire assemblage as all optics paled in fright. “Your actions caused the disruption of the servants' work, and allowed our carrier to escape.”
The femme openly glared at Ratchet, her green optics promising pain. He knew the femme did not like him, none of the concubines did, but why would she cause something that could get her killed? Ratchet wondered as the small trial went on. It was clear that the femme had been planning something but no one knew exactly what. One of the guards holding her pulled out a small cloth and handed it to Sunstreaker differently.
“This was found on her outside your quarters, my Lords,” The guard spoke softly as Sunstreaker unwrapped the clothed item revealing a slim, lethal dagger. Everyone in the room aside from the Lords gasped at the sight of the dagger. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe merely slitted their optics dangerously, freezing Trixivic with their dangerous stares.
“We believe she was planning to kill your carrier my Lords. The guards questioned her when she approached your chamber but she refused to answer and instead caused the fight to break out. A distraction, I think my Lords,” The guard continued, his optics unwavering as he spoke.
“You would do such a thing Trixivic?” one of the other concubines standing along the stairwell spoke up horror. Behind her the others stood clustered along the curving stairwell, all clinging to one another as they watched one of their own betray their lords and masters.
“You hoped to take the place of our carrier?” Sunstreaker sneered with a beautifully crooked smirk, “As if something as low as you could be worthy of gracing our berth.”
“I am worthy!” Trixivic shouted. “Not that old rusted-pile of scrap. I should be the one with the honor of barring your sparklings. Not that thing next to you,” she was silenced by a swift slap to the helm by the guard holding her, silencing her as the force stunned her.
“You worthless whore, as if we would allow you in the place that is rightfully Ratchet’s. He is our carrier; it is he who now carries our sparkling. Not you,” Sideswipe snarled, pulling Ratchet tightly to his side. “Take her to Trecks, he will know what to do with her.”
The name of the palace punisher and executioner put a look of pure terror on Trixivic’s face as she was dragged away. No one who was sent to Trecks ever returned. The lucky ones were killed swiftly, the unlucky ones were killed slowly and broken then auctioned off to low end brothels and traders. The other concubines huddled in terror as their most courageous ‘sister’ was taken from them forever.
Ratchet knew that the Lords were only getting started, spark shuddering as they seemed to delight in the punishment of others, and he was right. The lords gave all guards and servants involved with the fight severe punishments. The servants’ suffered harsh flogging, then their work load was increased. The soldiers received similar punishments only with prolonged training sessions with an elderly mech named Ironhide. Ratchet had never met the head of the Lords’ troops, yet his reputation filled all with dread.
The worst of the punishments, however was what they did to Angelwave. She was the head servant in charge of keeping order in the palace and she had failed. Her rank was stripped, and then she was flogged until her dress had shredded and her plaiting split, seething with angry trickles of spilt energon. All this, Ratchet was forced to watch, and then restrained when he tried to stop her tormentor and tend to her wounds.
‘The Pit-Spawn!’ Ratchet seethed silently as Sunstreaker held his helm in place, making Ratchet watch and Sideswipe pinned him to his chest. They could do whatever they wanted to him and he would take whatever punishment gladly. He would take any punishment so long as it meant lessening the innocent femme’s pain. As he seethed he failed to realize that his punishment was only beginning. The worst was yet to come.
₰
Two breems, two breems of complete and total silence, restrained in utter isolation from the rest of the palace. Ratchet was not allowed to speak, see, or be with anyone. Rations were brought in by a silent, unknown servant who never talked, optics dark and shattered with no way to see. This was to be Ratchet's punishment until the Twins believed he had learned not to escape from them, and to submit to them. Two breems had passed since then and Ratchet was growing wary. He was even denied Crystaleve’s presence, though that did not stop the feline from slipping in when his rations were delivered. She had developed a sudden hated for the Lords scratching and hissing at them whenever they came near her. Her yowls of fury followed by the Lords angry cursing from the hall beyond the door were always gratifying.
Twitchy in his solitude, Ratchet began to fear. The Lords had never kept him out of their berth for this long before. He feared the continued silence only as the long isolation promised the Lords would be all the more brutal when they finally freed him. Yet, the sole source of comfort for him was his sparklet. The bond between them was strong for it was the one thing keeping Ratchet sane from the isolation. He knew he would not last long within this silence; soon he would go deep within himself to escape the solitude with only his sparklet’s loving pulses to help him.
The pull to hide within himself seemed to grow ever greater with each passing orn but, Ratchet knew that should that happen, his sparklet would come into the world and he would be lost to the young life just as it started; leaving the innocent to be raised by the Lords he had come to despise, but even in his loneliness he could feel something else. He felt a sickness coming on, taking over him. How bad of an illness he didn’t know.
At first, it appeared to be a normal flu but when his frame became weaker and weaker he knew something was very wrong. His due date was fast approaching, the orns vanishing in spans of blankness as his processors shut down from exhaustion and sickness. He felt horrible from the sickness as the world blurred around him until he was aware of nothing... nothing but the precious spark burning within his chassis.
₰
Patch grumbled under his breath as he made his way to Ratchet's chamber. The fools both of them! Patch was ready to ignore the fact that Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were lords as this idiocy continued. Nothing good could possibly come from keeping the carrier isolated and shunned for his entire term. Ratchet's spirit could very well break from such treatment if it had not already. The elderly mech didn’t care if his Lords became angry with him but he was going to see the younger medic, and if need be shatter the order of being shunned to keep both sparks alive. He had been having disturbing dreams about the young mech. Visions of something he feared would soon come to pass.
“Ratchet,” he called gently as he looked around for the mech after entering the room. He found the younger medic chained to the wall hunched over, optics dark. The younger medic, the carrier, appeared to be asleep. “Ratchet,” he hoped to get the mech to wake but the white figure didn’t move. “Ratchet, it’s me Patch come on now wake up.” He gently shook the mech's white shoulder.
Patch noticed something that sent a chill down his spinal strut, Ratchet’s breathing was short and shallow his optics dimmed. Patch flinched as Ratchet coughed suddenly, as though he was choking. Ratchet was sick! Frag it all! The two slagging idiots had let the carrier become ill while he was with spark. This was dangerous for both Ratchet and the sparkling.
Rushing out of the chamber Patch quickly ordered the guards outside to take Ratchet to his medical chambers. He had to work fast or both Ratchet and the sparklet would be lost. Patch would openingly admit he was attached to Ratchet as if the younger mech was his own son. He couldn’t bear what the Lords had done to Ratchet, but as a lowly servant there was nothing he could have done. Patch pushed such thoughts aside, right now it wasn’t important. Right now the most important thing was saving Ratchet's life.
He worked for most of the night trying to stabilize Ratchet temperature. The mech was burning up his frame was burning, his coolant unable to handle the temperature. He feared for the newspark Ratchet carried knowing the younger mech wanted it more than anything. Ratchet was a natural with little ones. He would always watch or play with the servants' sparklings during the times when the lords allowed him in the garden. Patch growled, thinking of his foolish Lords he couldn’t understand their reasoning for being so cruel to Ratchet. He swore right then to Primus that if Ratchet offlined he would leave this palace and the Lords he’d helped raise behind. He refused to watch as they destroyed another carrier after Ratchet. What enraged him even more was the fact he knew the young Lords loved the medic but why on Cybertron were they so cruel to him.
He blamed their sire for this, he had been rough with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe's carrier before he fully tamed the femme to his will. No doubt the mech taught his sons to do the same behind closed doors. Patch dabbed the wash cloth into the water bowl rubbing the cold water over Ratchet almost steaming frame. Ratchet could survive this, but if he did not wake up he would not be able to birth the sparklet.
Patch didn’t flinch or even look up as the Lords of the castle stormed into the medical wing. He didn’t see the complete rage on their faceplates. If he had he would not have cared.
“Patch what is the meaning of this! Why did you take Ratchet out of his chamber,” Sunstreaker snarled. The twins stopping inches from the end of the healing berth, only their respect for the aged healer kept them from attempting to hurt the older mech.
“Because my Lord,” Patch snarled back, “Ratchet Is sick!” He yelled turning on the shocked Lords. “Ratchet is burning but with an extreme fever because your punishment allowed him to get sick,” he was screaming by then. “HOW COULD YOU DO SOMETHING SO SLAGGING STUPID. How could you keep Ratchet from getting checkups to make sure both he and sparklet were healthy! Now we could lose both of them because of you fragging pride,” both Twins were taking aback by Patch's outburst. “I swear to you right now, that if this mech dies because of you two pit-spawned slaggers I am walking out of this palace gate and I will never return.”
“I too shall leave,” a low, gentle voice drew their attention. “I cannot watch as you kill a gentle mech like Ratchet. He was taken from his home, forced to watch his entire village destroyed, and his friends killed just so he could be auctioned, sold and bought to be your carrier. Instead of trying to help him come to terms with everything he went through you tried to force him into becoming something he could never be: A tamed pleasure slave,” Angelwave stepped further into the chamber her optics held a glare that had never been there before. “I had hoped you would be different from your cruel, hateful sire,” her optics softened as she turned to Ratchet's form on the berth. “But, I guess that was only wishful thinking.”
That struck the Twins to the core. They remembered their cruel sire, how he had been harsh and uncaring when it came to anything even his family. According to the servants, the old lord had treated their carrier cruelly when he had first captured her. Uncaring of her slim, delicate frame being damaged with such great force the old lord had flogged and beaten her, breaking her spirit to bend to his dark will. They remembered her with fond memories but they also remembered those nights when she had cried when she allowed her pain to show, in those rare times when she thought no one was around. Silverbell had done everything she could to raise them right so they would not end up that way, to protect them. Sunstreaker had hated their sire along with his brother because not only did their sire treat their beloved carrier cruelly he had treated them that way as well. They still bore the scars he’d given them on their sparks and their frames for being weak, for being too nice to a young, scared, servant - a youngling named Angelwave. Could what Angelwave had said be true? Had they sunk so low that they had become just like their sire.
Sideswipe looked over at Ratchet's sick figure, and he knew the answer. Yes. Yes, they had followed their sire's footsteps and now Ratchet was going to pay the price for it. Ratchet was dangerously ill with their unborn sparklet. It would be a miracle of Primus if they both survived. How could they have let this happen?
Sideswipe cursed under his breath, they should have seen it from the moment Ratchet stepped into their lives, they could have helped him. They could have fixed this before it got this bad. They could have swallowed their pride and told the carrier how much he meant to the both of them. But, now the chance was gone and they would likely never get it back.
Fandom: Transformers AU
Author: deathmustang
Pairing/Characters: Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Ratchet
Disclaimer: Transformers is not mine, I just have fun writing with the characters
This was done with the help of my pal and beta ledishae!
Sorry for not posting in so long I've had a major block, but recently I've become inspired to write again. I hope this was wurth the wait.
When they returned to the palace all involved in the fight were waiting for them in the foyer. The assorted guards and maids were lined up before the massive stairwell leading to the lords’ chamber. Ratchet was forced to stand beside the Lords, Sideswipe’s arm wrapped protectively around his waist. Ratchet prayed to Primus that the innocents in this fiasco would not be punished too harshly. Still one question left unasked filled him with dread, why was he here and not back in the Lords' chambers yet? He had escaped, so why had they not taken him back? He should be suffering agony and humiliation as they dealt him his punishment.
The screeching high voice of a femme wrenched him from his troubled thoughts. Ratchet looked to the side where a young femme dressed in fine, garish silks of emerald and sapphire cloth stood thrashing and cursing at the Lords from where she was pinned between two of the tallest guards. The femme was the concubine Trixivic.
“Trixivic, what was the meaning of that fight?” Sunstreaker rumbled calmly, his lethally smooth voice stilling the entire assemblage as all optics paled in fright. “Your actions caused the disruption of the servants' work, and allowed our carrier to escape.”
The femme openly glared at Ratchet, her green optics promising pain. He knew the femme did not like him, none of the concubines did, but why would she cause something that could get her killed? Ratchet wondered as the small trial went on. It was clear that the femme had been planning something but no one knew exactly what. One of the guards holding her pulled out a small cloth and handed it to Sunstreaker differently.
“This was found on her outside your quarters, my Lords,” The guard spoke softly as Sunstreaker unwrapped the clothed item revealing a slim, lethal dagger. Everyone in the room aside from the Lords gasped at the sight of the dagger. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe merely slitted their optics dangerously, freezing Trixivic with their dangerous stares.
“We believe she was planning to kill your carrier my Lords. The guards questioned her when she approached your chamber but she refused to answer and instead caused the fight to break out. A distraction, I think my Lords,” The guard continued, his optics unwavering as he spoke.
“You would do such a thing Trixivic?” one of the other concubines standing along the stairwell spoke up horror. Behind her the others stood clustered along the curving stairwell, all clinging to one another as they watched one of their own betray their lords and masters.
“You hoped to take the place of our carrier?” Sunstreaker sneered with a beautifully crooked smirk, “As if something as low as you could be worthy of gracing our berth.”
“I am worthy!” Trixivic shouted. “Not that old rusted-pile of scrap. I should be the one with the honor of barring your sparklings. Not that thing next to you,” she was silenced by a swift slap to the helm by the guard holding her, silencing her as the force stunned her.
“You worthless whore, as if we would allow you in the place that is rightfully Ratchet’s. He is our carrier; it is he who now carries our sparkling. Not you,” Sideswipe snarled, pulling Ratchet tightly to his side. “Take her to Trecks, he will know what to do with her.”
The name of the palace punisher and executioner put a look of pure terror on Trixivic’s face as she was dragged away. No one who was sent to Trecks ever returned. The lucky ones were killed swiftly, the unlucky ones were killed slowly and broken then auctioned off to low end brothels and traders. The other concubines huddled in terror as their most courageous ‘sister’ was taken from them forever.
Ratchet knew that the Lords were only getting started, spark shuddering as they seemed to delight in the punishment of others, and he was right. The lords gave all guards and servants involved with the fight severe punishments. The servants’ suffered harsh flogging, then their work load was increased. The soldiers received similar punishments only with prolonged training sessions with an elderly mech named Ironhide. Ratchet had never met the head of the Lords’ troops, yet his reputation filled all with dread.
The worst of the punishments, however was what they did to Angelwave. She was the head servant in charge of keeping order in the palace and she had failed. Her rank was stripped, and then she was flogged until her dress had shredded and her plaiting split, seething with angry trickles of spilt energon. All this, Ratchet was forced to watch, and then restrained when he tried to stop her tormentor and tend to her wounds.
‘The Pit-Spawn!’ Ratchet seethed silently as Sunstreaker held his helm in place, making Ratchet watch and Sideswipe pinned him to his chest. They could do whatever they wanted to him and he would take whatever punishment gladly. He would take any punishment so long as it meant lessening the innocent femme’s pain. As he seethed he failed to realize that his punishment was only beginning. The worst was yet to come.
₰
Two breems, two breems of complete and total silence, restrained in utter isolation from the rest of the palace. Ratchet was not allowed to speak, see, or be with anyone. Rations were brought in by a silent, unknown servant who never talked, optics dark and shattered with no way to see. This was to be Ratchet's punishment until the Twins believed he had learned not to escape from them, and to submit to them. Two breems had passed since then and Ratchet was growing wary. He was even denied Crystaleve’s presence, though that did not stop the feline from slipping in when his rations were delivered. She had developed a sudden hated for the Lords scratching and hissing at them whenever they came near her. Her yowls of fury followed by the Lords angry cursing from the hall beyond the door were always gratifying.
Twitchy in his solitude, Ratchet began to fear. The Lords had never kept him out of their berth for this long before. He feared the continued silence only as the long isolation promised the Lords would be all the more brutal when they finally freed him. Yet, the sole source of comfort for him was his sparklet. The bond between them was strong for it was the one thing keeping Ratchet sane from the isolation. He knew he would not last long within this silence; soon he would go deep within himself to escape the solitude with only his sparklet’s loving pulses to help him.
The pull to hide within himself seemed to grow ever greater with each passing orn but, Ratchet knew that should that happen, his sparklet would come into the world and he would be lost to the young life just as it started; leaving the innocent to be raised by the Lords he had come to despise, but even in his loneliness he could feel something else. He felt a sickness coming on, taking over him. How bad of an illness he didn’t know.
At first, it appeared to be a normal flu but when his frame became weaker and weaker he knew something was very wrong. His due date was fast approaching, the orns vanishing in spans of blankness as his processors shut down from exhaustion and sickness. He felt horrible from the sickness as the world blurred around him until he was aware of nothing... nothing but the precious spark burning within his chassis.
₰
Patch grumbled under his breath as he made his way to Ratchet's chamber. The fools both of them! Patch was ready to ignore the fact that Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were lords as this idiocy continued. Nothing good could possibly come from keeping the carrier isolated and shunned for his entire term. Ratchet's spirit could very well break from such treatment if it had not already. The elderly mech didn’t care if his Lords became angry with him but he was going to see the younger medic, and if need be shatter the order of being shunned to keep both sparks alive. He had been having disturbing dreams about the young mech. Visions of something he feared would soon come to pass.
“Ratchet,” he called gently as he looked around for the mech after entering the room. He found the younger medic chained to the wall hunched over, optics dark. The younger medic, the carrier, appeared to be asleep. “Ratchet,” he hoped to get the mech to wake but the white figure didn’t move. “Ratchet, it’s me Patch come on now wake up.” He gently shook the mech's white shoulder.
Patch noticed something that sent a chill down his spinal strut, Ratchet’s breathing was short and shallow his optics dimmed. Patch flinched as Ratchet coughed suddenly, as though he was choking. Ratchet was sick! Frag it all! The two slagging idiots had let the carrier become ill while he was with spark. This was dangerous for both Ratchet and the sparkling.
Rushing out of the chamber Patch quickly ordered the guards outside to take Ratchet to his medical chambers. He had to work fast or both Ratchet and the sparklet would be lost. Patch would openingly admit he was attached to Ratchet as if the younger mech was his own son. He couldn’t bear what the Lords had done to Ratchet, but as a lowly servant there was nothing he could have done. Patch pushed such thoughts aside, right now it wasn’t important. Right now the most important thing was saving Ratchet's life.
He worked for most of the night trying to stabilize Ratchet temperature. The mech was burning up his frame was burning, his coolant unable to handle the temperature. He feared for the newspark Ratchet carried knowing the younger mech wanted it more than anything. Ratchet was a natural with little ones. He would always watch or play with the servants' sparklings during the times when the lords allowed him in the garden. Patch growled, thinking of his foolish Lords he couldn’t understand their reasoning for being so cruel to Ratchet. He swore right then to Primus that if Ratchet offlined he would leave this palace and the Lords he’d helped raise behind. He refused to watch as they destroyed another carrier after Ratchet. What enraged him even more was the fact he knew the young Lords loved the medic but why on Cybertron were they so cruel to him.
He blamed their sire for this, he had been rough with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe's carrier before he fully tamed the femme to his will. No doubt the mech taught his sons to do the same behind closed doors. Patch dabbed the wash cloth into the water bowl rubbing the cold water over Ratchet almost steaming frame. Ratchet could survive this, but if he did not wake up he would not be able to birth the sparklet.
Patch didn’t flinch or even look up as the Lords of the castle stormed into the medical wing. He didn’t see the complete rage on their faceplates. If he had he would not have cared.
“Patch what is the meaning of this! Why did you take Ratchet out of his chamber,” Sunstreaker snarled. The twins stopping inches from the end of the healing berth, only their respect for the aged healer kept them from attempting to hurt the older mech.
“Because my Lord,” Patch snarled back, “Ratchet Is sick!” He yelled turning on the shocked Lords. “Ratchet is burning but with an extreme fever because your punishment allowed him to get sick,” he was screaming by then. “HOW COULD YOU DO SOMETHING SO SLAGGING STUPID. How could you keep Ratchet from getting checkups to make sure both he and sparklet were healthy! Now we could lose both of them because of you fragging pride,” both Twins were taking aback by Patch's outburst. “I swear to you right now, that if this mech dies because of you two pit-spawned slaggers I am walking out of this palace gate and I will never return.”
“I too shall leave,” a low, gentle voice drew their attention. “I cannot watch as you kill a gentle mech like Ratchet. He was taken from his home, forced to watch his entire village destroyed, and his friends killed just so he could be auctioned, sold and bought to be your carrier. Instead of trying to help him come to terms with everything he went through you tried to force him into becoming something he could never be: A tamed pleasure slave,” Angelwave stepped further into the chamber her optics held a glare that had never been there before. “I had hoped you would be different from your cruel, hateful sire,” her optics softened as she turned to Ratchet's form on the berth. “But, I guess that was only wishful thinking.”
That struck the Twins to the core. They remembered their cruel sire, how he had been harsh and uncaring when it came to anything even his family. According to the servants, the old lord had treated their carrier cruelly when he had first captured her. Uncaring of her slim, delicate frame being damaged with such great force the old lord had flogged and beaten her, breaking her spirit to bend to his dark will. They remembered her with fond memories but they also remembered those nights when she had cried when she allowed her pain to show, in those rare times when she thought no one was around. Silverbell had done everything she could to raise them right so they would not end up that way, to protect them. Sunstreaker had hated their sire along with his brother because not only did their sire treat their beloved carrier cruelly he had treated them that way as well. They still bore the scars he’d given them on their sparks and their frames for being weak, for being too nice to a young, scared, servant - a youngling named Angelwave. Could what Angelwave had said be true? Had they sunk so low that they had become just like their sire.
Sideswipe looked over at Ratchet's sick figure, and he knew the answer. Yes. Yes, they had followed their sire's footsteps and now Ratchet was going to pay the price for it. Ratchet was dangerously ill with their unborn sparklet. It would be a miracle of Primus if they both survived. How could they have let this happen?
Sideswipe cursed under his breath, they should have seen it from the moment Ratchet stepped into their lives, they could have helped him. They could have fixed this before it got this bad. They could have swallowed their pride and told the carrier how much he meant to the both of them. But, now the chance was gone and they would likely never get it back.