Inflicted (TFP Ratchet Fanfiction)

7: Exhaustion

Another whole week passed. The days seemed to drag on, each day slower than the last. Ratchet was hardly permitted to do anything other than work on decoding the Iacon data file. He had not left the tiny room with the monitor the entire time, and he was hardly even able to move around in there either. If he attempted to take a break without being told to first, Megatron would arrive not long after, or another Decepticon if he was busy at the time. Usually, when Megatron was out, it meant just a quick prod of the electro-rod, and then they would leave.

If it was the warlord, however, it meant a much harsher punishment. Megatron left no room for weakness or slacking off in his sight, and made that clear accordingly. He would arrive with quite a loud presence, just to let Ratchet know that he was in trouble. He made no effort to wait for Scorch to leave, rather getting immediately into it. Perhaps he would pin the medic to a wall, run his claws over his chassis again. Once he had simply backhanded Ratchet to the floor, and kicked him several times when he was down. Another time he had backed him into a corner, threatening him with his blade, before leaving a giant slash over Ratchet's arm. The medic would tremble whenever he heard Megatron coming, and despite his pride and how much he played the resilient one, he was terrified now. 

It was all getting to be too much. He was passing even his limits of staying on his pedes and working all day, and exhaustion was creeping into his systems. And not only was he losing all of his energy, he was growing more and more afraid and lonely. It felt like Megatron was always watching him, his eyes and ears over his shoulder to keep him in check. Whenever he made what seemed like the smallest mistake, whenever he paused to give himself a small break, he was punished. Pain was consistently part of Ratchet's life now, and it made him feel small and weak. Whatever hope he had was draining by the day. Dark thoughts often plagued his processor, and sometimes he just wanted it to end. 

This was by far some of the worst torture he had ever faced. He felt like he was losing himself. 

Scorch was almost always there, standing around when he wasn't doing something Ratchet asked. Because the medic was hardly allowed to leave, whenever they were allowed a refuel, the little Vehicon was the one who would provide the both of them with it. It was a cube each every couple of days, and the sweet sensation of energy was quick and usually unfulfilling. Scorch was usually quiet, but sometimes the two of them would strike up a careful conversation. Normally, Ratchet wouldn't dream of such a thing, but he welcomed it now. He missed having company, and any form of it was a little slice of normality to him. Ratchet tried not to be too rude or prejudice when talking to him, either. Scorch was all he had for the time being, and it was better not to upset this little one. He still felt bad for causing him such pain and bullying anyways. 

And a little one Scorch was. Ratchet actually learned a lot about him from their chats, one of those things being that the Vehicon was very young. A youngling, the age humans would consider to be a teenager. He had been forged after the war on Cybertron, and after the civil war on Velocitron. The medic was surprised about this. While he had expected Scorch to be young, he would never of guessed he was made while their kind were finding refuge on Junkion and other worlds. He supposed it was possible, with all the Decepticon resources, but after the fall of Cybertron, he wouldn't have expected someone to have a spark. How was it possible?

Scorch did not explain the matter, however, and Ratchet did not wish to ask. He learned a few other things about Scorch's life, but for the most part, it was uneventful. The Vehicon sounded disappointed with it, and it made sense. Spending day after day under a routine on the ship or in Energon mines was hardly an exciting life. Ratchet also noticed that despite how the Decepticon presented himself, he was a chipper little bot, rather curious and awestruck by many things. He could be moody, and would sometimes seem grumpy over the smallest things. Ratchet supposed that was a young bot thing. However, overall Scorch seemed rather intrigued when the medic spoke, and would even get excited in his small stories of his past with Optimus and ask questions. Sometimes he would admire how quick and efficiently Ratchet worked, scoffing and making fun of how his own people couldn't do much better, if anything.