The Ties That Bind Us (Part 3 of 5)
Title: The Ties That Bind Us (Part 3 of 5)
Verse: TFA, Future AU
Rating: PG-13
Series: Part 1, Part 2
Characters/Pairings:Megatron, Blitzwing, Lugnut, Shockwave, Optimus Prime, Bumblebee, Ratchet, Jazz, Bulkhead, Jetfire, Jetstorm; Blitzwing/Jazz
Word Count: 1,637
Warnings: Implied mpreg, implied slash
Summary: Always connected, but never together. What is it that binds them? Now, with the team of Autobots in his grasp, what chance do they have of remaining unscathed?
Notes: For odd_stick. This was supposed to be a drabble, but it became a 5 chapter monster.
Worry, unease, fear: Three emotions that hung over Blitzwing’s processor. Three emotions that he was unused to dealing with.
Blitzwing’s fist hovered over the door that led to the command deck - or as it has been lovingly nicknamed, the throne room. On the other side, Megatron lie in wait for him. His summons had been curt and sudden, a short comm. that gave no hint as to the subject. The absence of explanation was filled in by those three strange emotions. What if he knew? What would happen? Would he hurt them? Was there a way to avoid it? Maybe he just go get them and run…
“Blitzwing, I’m waiting…” an impatient voice drawled across his comm.-link.
The triple changer started at the voice, reflexively drawing away from the door. His time was up; he had no choice but to face him. His fist came forward, knocking softly on the door’s surface.
“Enter,” Megatron said, his voice muffled by the door, though it sounded no less commanding.
The door hissed pen in a foreboding motion, almost daring Blitzwing to turn back now. He stepped into the darkened room.
A pair of crimson optics watched him from the end of the room. A thin streak of purple tinted light fell across the warlord’s lap, illuminating only his hands and the throne they rested upon.
Blitzwing approached the throne, stopping when a pool of light fell across his own plating.
The room itself was set up to serve two purposes, which it filled perfectly. The first was to act as the command deck for the ship. This area sat on the top of the space craft, the necessary consoles and screens cast in starlight beneath the windows. Its second purpose was darker, covering the back half of the room in an almost sinister atmosphere. The captain’s seat-turned-throne sat far back in the shadowed half of the room. It was meant to intimidate, to radiate power and strength. It did just that.
“You summoned me, Lord Megatron?” Blitzwing asked hesitantly. The simple ambiance in the room seemed to cause him to shrink in on himself as it did all the soldiers. Even Lugnut was affected by it.
“Yes, we have much to discuss,” Megatron drawled, a smile clear in his voice though invisible in the darkness.
Blitzwing dipped his head in acknowledgment and said nothing. He waited for his commander to continue, though the silence quickly stretched. He fidgeted and gave in. “Like what, my lord?” he finally asked.
In that shaft of link, one dark grey leg crossed over the other as Megatron relaxed back into his throne. “Your behavior this morning was strange…”
Blitzwing panicked and couldn’t restrain a sporadic response. “My behavior is always strange! After all, only the best are crazy!” he cackled.
“Quite,” Megatron replied, a grin obvious in his voice though his mouth was hidden in a shroud of darkness. “Why not explain to me what really happened back there?”
Blitzwing flinched back as his face shifted again. “Nothing! I was only enjoying the screams of the Autobot scum!”
Slowly, Megatron leaned forward, allowing the strip of purple-hued light to fall across his face. His arms folded in front of him. “Drop the excuses, Blitzwing. I know the truth," he said lowly, his voice a warning. “I am by no means foolish enough to fall for your charade."
Another shift and Blitzwing stared at him. “K-Know what sir?” he stuttered uncharacteristically.
“After that… touching display between you and the Autobot fliers this morning, an interesting thought struck me,” Megatron drawled, his claws clicking against his leg. It was obvious just how much he enjoyed eliciting fear with his almost curious tone.
Blitzwing remained silent, his wing tips twitching in apprehension.
In that beam of light, Megatron grinned. “You look rather like them,” he said finally. “The similarities are uncanny.”
Once more, a knee-jerk reaction erupted from Blitzwing, a snap attempt to worm out of the increasingly desperate situation. “Well, you know, we fliers share the same luscious curves!” he cackled. The façade failed. Even Random’s voice cracked as panic coursed through him.
For a brief moment, Megatron’s expression turned dark. “Don’t take me for a fool.” He snapped, his voice threatening consequences for further insolence. Then, slowly, his body loosened and his good mood seemed to return. This revelation had obviously tickled him more than a foul mood at his strange soldier. “Following your display, I had Shockwave take a closer look at those Autobot twins. Do you know what he found, Blitzwing?”
The triple-changer shuddered, not even daring a non-verbal response. He knew he could no longer deny it. He was surely caught.
“Starscream was not the coding donor; it was you,” Megatron purred. “Oh, but that isn’t even the best part, is it? Would you like to hear what else he found?”
The tension in Blitzwing’s form dropped once the words were out. His optics dim; the fight left him. He didn’t respond.
“There was a second donor. These twins were no Autobot experiment. They were sparked,” Megatron continued, seemingly oblivious to his soldier’s reaction. “So, who was the carrier? You or that ninja-bot?”
“Please, my lord… I realize how bad this reflects upon me, but… I’m not a traitor, I swear it.”
Megatron’s smirk didn’t fall. “Tell me then. Explain to me this situation from the beginning,” he said, amused. “How did you come to create two sparklings with an Autobot during a war?”
“I don’t think you want to hear it,” Blitzwing responded slowly, turning his optics to the floor.
“Oh, but I do. Very much,” Megatron responded. “And perhaps, if it amuses me, something good will come out of it for you.”
A glimmer of hope. Probably nothing, but it was enough. The triple-changer knew he couldn’t avoid telling the story and now, if he was compliant, perhaps Megatron would find a touch if mercy within his spark to spare on the twins.
Blitzwing shifted as he mentally prepared himself, but he still didn’t look up. “We met by chance on the fringes of Iacon. I was on a scouting mission and Jazz was heading back to his Cyber-ninja dojo. He was alone and I was curious. There was no Autobot brand on his chest at the time and he seemed unbothered by my faction,” he said quietly, optics dimming as the memory played out in his processor. “We became quick friends though our time was short. We stayed in contact as best we could… I met him whenever I came to Cybertron. After a time we began to interface…”
“You took an Autobot lover?” Megatron mused, interrupting him. “You did not merely use him?”
The warlord knew that. His reaction to the twins and Jazz earlier that day answered the question for him. “It was strange loving an Autobot who became more impassioned by the Elite Guard, but somehow our relationship remained stable,” he continued after a moment. His head shook lightly. How absurd was it to try to explain this to Megatron? Surely telling him how he loved an Autobot was only serving to lower him further into the proverbial smelting pool. “For a while, there was nothing overly eventful to our lives… Until Jazz conceived.”
“The twins,” Megatron added smoothly.
“Yes.”
The triple-changer fell silent then, looking uncomfortable in proceeding in the explanation. Oddly, Megatron threw him a line. “The Autobots must have noticed quickly,” he noted. “Those medics stick their olfactory sensors in everything.”
“They figured everything out very quickly.” Blitzwing admitted, his fingers clicking softly. “Jazz… He explained the situation, yet managed to go unpunished. I suspect that the Autobots were too overjoyed to discover that the sparklings would be fliers to care too much.”
“And what of the story of Starscream’s stolen coding?” Megatron inquired, though he clearly knew. He just wanted to have the entire story retold to him. It was a sort of victory in itself.
“A convenient cover up.”
Megatron’s chuckle was low and dark. Those words were precisely what he wanted to hear. “Excellent…” he murmured. “So the process cannot be repeated. The twins are all they have and we reign supreme in the skies.”
“-I don’t like how this is going...-” Icy whispered internally.
“-He can’t kill them! I won’t let him!-” Hothead suddenly raged, a rush of maternal protectiveness flowing from his section processor.
“-Nothing will happen to them. I will make sure of it.-” Random insisted, calm and serious for once. Of all the personalities sharing a processor, it was him who held the closest emotional connection to his offspring.
“You are worried about something.”
Blitzwing started, pulled out of his internal conversation when he was addressed. “Yes, of course I am!” he snapped before he could stop himself, red visor glaring out at his leader.
Crimson optics glittered playfully. “Why?
“You’re going to kill my sparklings!” Blitzwing snapped again before Icy took over. “I… do not want that.”
“I will not kill them,” Megatron drawled slowly, smiling. “I have other uses for them.”
Blitzwing’s energon ran cold. The words were no comfort to him. Uses. There were horrors hidden behind that word that he didn’t want to imagine. “What do you mean?” he asked quietly.
“Calm yourself, Blitzwing,” Megatron chastised, noticing his soldier’s sudden unease. “My purpose for them is one you will certainly approve of.”
The words still did nothing to comfort the triple-changer. “What purpose? … My lord.”
“They are fliers created with Decepticon programming,” Megatron noted. “I want them to fulfill the obligations of that programming. They will join us.”
“Lord Megatron, I have tried in the past, but they refuse!” Blitzwing protested. One fear resolved, but now another emerged, providing him no rest. What would happen if the warlord was denied?
“Try again…” Megatron replied simply. “Or they will die.”
Verse: TFA, Future AU
Rating: PG-13
Series: Part 1, Part 2
Characters/Pairings:Megatron, Blitzwing, Lugnut, Shockwave, Optimus Prime, Bumblebee, Ratchet, Jazz, Bulkhead, Jetfire, Jetstorm; Blitzwing/Jazz
Word Count: 1,637
Warnings: Implied mpreg, implied slash
Summary: Always connected, but never together. What is it that binds them? Now, with the team of Autobots in his grasp, what chance do they have of remaining unscathed?
Notes: For odd_stick. This was supposed to be a drabble, but it became a 5 chapter monster.
Worry, unease, fear: Three emotions that hung over Blitzwing’s processor. Three emotions that he was unused to dealing with.
Blitzwing’s fist hovered over the door that led to the command deck - or as it has been lovingly nicknamed, the throne room. On the other side, Megatron lie in wait for him. His summons had been curt and sudden, a short comm. that gave no hint as to the subject. The absence of explanation was filled in by those three strange emotions. What if he knew? What would happen? Would he hurt them? Was there a way to avoid it? Maybe he just go get them and run…
“Blitzwing, I’m waiting…” an impatient voice drawled across his comm.-link.
The triple changer started at the voice, reflexively drawing away from the door. His time was up; he had no choice but to face him. His fist came forward, knocking softly on the door’s surface.
“Enter,” Megatron said, his voice muffled by the door, though it sounded no less commanding.
The door hissed pen in a foreboding motion, almost daring Blitzwing to turn back now. He stepped into the darkened room.
A pair of crimson optics watched him from the end of the room. A thin streak of purple tinted light fell across the warlord’s lap, illuminating only his hands and the throne they rested upon.
Blitzwing approached the throne, stopping when a pool of light fell across his own plating.
The room itself was set up to serve two purposes, which it filled perfectly. The first was to act as the command deck for the ship. This area sat on the top of the space craft, the necessary consoles and screens cast in starlight beneath the windows. Its second purpose was darker, covering the back half of the room in an almost sinister atmosphere. The captain’s seat-turned-throne sat far back in the shadowed half of the room. It was meant to intimidate, to radiate power and strength. It did just that.
“You summoned me, Lord Megatron?” Blitzwing asked hesitantly. The simple ambiance in the room seemed to cause him to shrink in on himself as it did all the soldiers. Even Lugnut was affected by it.
“Yes, we have much to discuss,” Megatron drawled, a smile clear in his voice though invisible in the darkness.
Blitzwing dipped his head in acknowledgment and said nothing. He waited for his commander to continue, though the silence quickly stretched. He fidgeted and gave in. “Like what, my lord?” he finally asked.
In that shaft of link, one dark grey leg crossed over the other as Megatron relaxed back into his throne. “Your behavior this morning was strange…”
Blitzwing panicked and couldn’t restrain a sporadic response. “My behavior is always strange! After all, only the best are crazy!” he cackled.
“Quite,” Megatron replied, a grin obvious in his voice though his mouth was hidden in a shroud of darkness. “Why not explain to me what really happened back there?”
Blitzwing flinched back as his face shifted again. “Nothing! I was only enjoying the screams of the Autobot scum!”
Slowly, Megatron leaned forward, allowing the strip of purple-hued light to fall across his face. His arms folded in front of him. “Drop the excuses, Blitzwing. I know the truth," he said lowly, his voice a warning. “I am by no means foolish enough to fall for your charade."
Another shift and Blitzwing stared at him. “K-Know what sir?” he stuttered uncharacteristically.
“After that… touching display between you and the Autobot fliers this morning, an interesting thought struck me,” Megatron drawled, his claws clicking against his leg. It was obvious just how much he enjoyed eliciting fear with his almost curious tone.
Blitzwing remained silent, his wing tips twitching in apprehension.
In that beam of light, Megatron grinned. “You look rather like them,” he said finally. “The similarities are uncanny.”
Once more, a knee-jerk reaction erupted from Blitzwing, a snap attempt to worm out of the increasingly desperate situation. “Well, you know, we fliers share the same luscious curves!” he cackled. The façade failed. Even Random’s voice cracked as panic coursed through him.
For a brief moment, Megatron’s expression turned dark. “Don’t take me for a fool.” He snapped, his voice threatening consequences for further insolence. Then, slowly, his body loosened and his good mood seemed to return. This revelation had obviously tickled him more than a foul mood at his strange soldier. “Following your display, I had Shockwave take a closer look at those Autobot twins. Do you know what he found, Blitzwing?”
The triple-changer shuddered, not even daring a non-verbal response. He knew he could no longer deny it. He was surely caught.
“Starscream was not the coding donor; it was you,” Megatron purred. “Oh, but that isn’t even the best part, is it? Would you like to hear what else he found?”
The tension in Blitzwing’s form dropped once the words were out. His optics dim; the fight left him. He didn’t respond.
“There was a second donor. These twins were no Autobot experiment. They were sparked,” Megatron continued, seemingly oblivious to his soldier’s reaction. “So, who was the carrier? You or that ninja-bot?”
“Please, my lord… I realize how bad this reflects upon me, but… I’m not a traitor, I swear it.”
Megatron’s smirk didn’t fall. “Tell me then. Explain to me this situation from the beginning,” he said, amused. “How did you come to create two sparklings with an Autobot during a war?”
“I don’t think you want to hear it,” Blitzwing responded slowly, turning his optics to the floor.
“Oh, but I do. Very much,” Megatron responded. “And perhaps, if it amuses me, something good will come out of it for you.”
A glimmer of hope. Probably nothing, but it was enough. The triple-changer knew he couldn’t avoid telling the story and now, if he was compliant, perhaps Megatron would find a touch if mercy within his spark to spare on the twins.
Blitzwing shifted as he mentally prepared himself, but he still didn’t look up. “We met by chance on the fringes of Iacon. I was on a scouting mission and Jazz was heading back to his Cyber-ninja dojo. He was alone and I was curious. There was no Autobot brand on his chest at the time and he seemed unbothered by my faction,” he said quietly, optics dimming as the memory played out in his processor. “We became quick friends though our time was short. We stayed in contact as best we could… I met him whenever I came to Cybertron. After a time we began to interface…”
“You took an Autobot lover?” Megatron mused, interrupting him. “You did not merely use him?”
The warlord knew that. His reaction to the twins and Jazz earlier that day answered the question for him. “It was strange loving an Autobot who became more impassioned by the Elite Guard, but somehow our relationship remained stable,” he continued after a moment. His head shook lightly. How absurd was it to try to explain this to Megatron? Surely telling him how he loved an Autobot was only serving to lower him further into the proverbial smelting pool. “For a while, there was nothing overly eventful to our lives… Until Jazz conceived.”
“The twins,” Megatron added smoothly.
“Yes.”
The triple-changer fell silent then, looking uncomfortable in proceeding in the explanation. Oddly, Megatron threw him a line. “The Autobots must have noticed quickly,” he noted. “Those medics stick their olfactory sensors in everything.”
“They figured everything out very quickly.” Blitzwing admitted, his fingers clicking softly. “Jazz… He explained the situation, yet managed to go unpunished. I suspect that the Autobots were too overjoyed to discover that the sparklings would be fliers to care too much.”
“And what of the story of Starscream’s stolen coding?” Megatron inquired, though he clearly knew. He just wanted to have the entire story retold to him. It was a sort of victory in itself.
“A convenient cover up.”
Megatron’s chuckle was low and dark. Those words were precisely what he wanted to hear. “Excellent…” he murmured. “So the process cannot be repeated. The twins are all they have and we reign supreme in the skies.”
“-I don’t like how this is going...-” Icy whispered internally.
“-He can’t kill them! I won’t let him!-” Hothead suddenly raged, a rush of maternal protectiveness flowing from his section processor.
“-Nothing will happen to them. I will make sure of it.-” Random insisted, calm and serious for once. Of all the personalities sharing a processor, it was him who held the closest emotional connection to his offspring.
“You are worried about something.”
Blitzwing started, pulled out of his internal conversation when he was addressed. “Yes, of course I am!” he snapped before he could stop himself, red visor glaring out at his leader.
Crimson optics glittered playfully. “Why?
“You’re going to kill my sparklings!” Blitzwing snapped again before Icy took over. “I… do not want that.”
“I will not kill them,” Megatron drawled slowly, smiling. “I have other uses for them.”
Blitzwing’s energon ran cold. The words were no comfort to him. Uses. There were horrors hidden behind that word that he didn’t want to imagine. “What do you mean?” he asked quietly.
“Calm yourself, Blitzwing,” Megatron chastised, noticing his soldier’s sudden unease. “My purpose for them is one you will certainly approve of.”
The words still did nothing to comfort the triple-changer. “What purpose? … My lord.”
“They are fliers created with Decepticon programming,” Megatron noted. “I want them to fulfill the obligations of that programming. They will join us.”
“Lord Megatron, I have tried in the past, but they refuse!” Blitzwing protested. One fear resolved, but now another emerged, providing him no rest. What would happen if the warlord was denied?
“Try again…” Megatron replied simply. “Or they will die.”