When in the Presence of Royalty Smokescreen x Megatron's Daughter Reader

Pie Crust Promises: Easily Made, Easily Broken

     It was sun-down, past sun-down even, and the two fliers still hadn't shown. Ratchet was pacing by the doors of the hanger, Ultra Magnus was trying to comm both younger Cybertronians, and Optimus was in contact with Arcee, who was trying to find the two trouble makers along with Bumblebee

         |: They're nowhere near base, :| Arcee sighed, |: and it's been to long to follow any srt of jet trail from either of them. :|

Bee made his input known as he drove well beyond the base, and Optimus contemplated his comment.

         "You may be right, try the ruins of Darkmount."

         "What?!" Ratchet halted his pacing, "(Y/D) may have enjoyed reliving past victories but she would never go back to a place like that!"

         "Wait, she would go back to where she won fights?" Miko piped up, barely on the raised platform as she hung over it's edge, "Sounds like a serial killer."

         "While under the rule of her Sire,  she was one," Ultra Magnus stated, knowing the term, "She might be a well rounded soldier now, but for a long time she was practically the face of Decepticon brutality."

         "Only because of the Decepticon lie," Optimus defended the femme, looking slightly cross at his second in command.

         "I was going to point that out," the smaller mech defended himself, "I would not destroy her honor so pettily."

All three were ready to defend (Y/D), even from each other, the grown sparkling having such an obvious impact on their lives.

     Jack coughed to disturb the tense silence, and all present looked to him.

         "(Y/D) did horrible things," he started, "We all get that, but right now, shouldn't we be trying to find her and Smokescreen?"

The simple point made, Optimus contacted Arcee and Bumblebee again, telling them to investigate the ruins of Darkmount. Ratchet continued to pace, and Ultra Magnus tried to contact Smokescreen and (Y/D) again. The screen showed that their comms were working, but they weren't answering. The question is: what's stopping them?

     The answer lies within the belly of the beast, a nightmare to all who weren't invited via Decepticon recruitment. Vehicons prowled the halls, a few filing into the brig, wanting to take a look at the new pet, an exotic rarity thought extinct, hung on the wall in chains and stasis cuffs to prevent her escape. They took turns taunting the barely online femme, calling her names that she was used to, names that she had heard so many times before. At this point in time, they only made her laugh. 

She could hear the impatient and worried scratchings in another cell, the sound of her four most trusted friends and allies, stripped away from her when she and Smokescreen were captured. Mune was screeching in a much to small cannister, Ruckus was throwing both Cybertronian and human profanities at the bots trying to touch his wings, Grub was willing to sting anyone who came near, but the thick glass was always in the way, and the fourth ignored them, as used to the insults as (Y/D).

     One vehicon threw a sponge, dripping with old oil from an unknown source, hitting the femme in her faceplate, and she growled as the slick substance slipped down and beneath her armor, an unpleasant feeling indeed.

         "That's enough," came the highpitched sound of Starscream, "I think our esteemed guest has had enough entertainment," he smiled, thinking this act of stopping the vehicons an act of mercy.

         "Where's Smokescreen?" was (Y/D)'s first demand.

         "Awaiting Shockwave's scalpel," Starscream chuckled, the sound like a choking dog, "He wants to know what makes your new flier tick, now that much of his anatomy has changed."

         "He can do that with a simple scan," she noted. 

         "Yes, but that's not as fun," the snake chuckled again, and (Y/D) rattled the chains that kept her suspended. 

Starscream began to make his exit when she spoke up again.

         "You used to be able to laugh, genuinely, around me," the femme said solemnly.

         "Yes," he turned his helm to look at her, "That was before you betrayed us."

Hanging her helm, (Y/D) waited for her next visitor, feeling only regret.

     Smokescreen felt that too, but only because he regretted not being able to keep her safe. (Y/D) was far to low on energon to groundbridge them out of the ambush, and his inexperience with his wings made him an easy target. His short comings resulted in him being stuck on this medical berth, strapped down and ready fro examination. The mech groaned as he strained against his binds, but to no avail. He only stopped when the lab doors came open with a dull thud.

         "Fraternizing with the enemy is punishable by death you know."

Knockout.

         "(Y/D) is no enemy of the Autobots," Smokesreen spat at him.

         "Fool, she's Megatron's descendant, practically bred for war."

         "That's not how it always was," the mech glared, "and you know it."

Knockout was silent, his back turned to the rookie. He fiddled with a few tools before making the short steps to the berth. Pressing a hidden button under the lip of the metal slab, he made the berth tip upward ever so slightly.

         "And you know this how? Because she told you, I presume." Knockout no longer held his usual cocky atmosphere, instead he held a blank expression as he made sure an injection needle was working properly, "News flash, Autobot, even those you trust the most can lie to you."

The mad doctor injected the odd substance into Smokescreen's systems, and he was forced into stasis.

(Oof XD Ya'll can suffer! I have no regrets! WILL have no regrets!)