HATE YOU
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WARNING: Physical violence/assault. PTSD.
This one's a rough one.
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"Nobody can save me now,"
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Jack opened his eyes to a familiar, dim sight.
Even with the decreased lighting there was still pain, a splitting headache cracking his skull in half. He groaned in automatic response, shifting and hissing as his shoulders ached too. It was then he realized he could not move his arms to console himself, his fingers flexing and his bones grinding against metal cuffs.
His eyes shot open, this time refusing to close them for very long as he painfully tilted his head to the side.
Oh, yeah.
Immediately he remembered what happened, gazing at the silver chain which kept him taut and anchored to the wall in this kneeling position.
Mirage did not even have the luxury of time to give Megatron a snarky answer before he was picked up by his hood and flung into the Groundbridge portal from which the tyrant came from. The Cybertronian made the mistake of forgetting that Jack was inside him, transforming and flinging the young man into the unforgiving metal of Darkmount's hall. Jack barely remembered rolling to a stop, his gun still clutched in his hand as he watched Mirage make a run for it towards the portal. The Autobot had instead been greeted by a nasty fist to the chest, flinging him backwards. From there . . .
He had raised the gun to put a few bullets in Megatron's skull, but he had been blindsided by an electric attack. He had no idea who it was, however, he suspected it had been Soundwave. Any other Decepticon likely would have let him do it, or at least given him a bit of a chance before interfering.
Dread filled his limbs when he realized what this meant.
I'm back. I'm back at his mercy.
Jack gritted his teeth, starting to pull at his chains as panic bubbled in his chest. He had to get out, he needed to leave.
His attempts became more frenzied when he failed to wrest free, even trying to just pull his hands through, but the cuffs were so tight they were stopped by the base of his hand. Even if he tried to break a thumb, it would not do any good. He was trapped.
"No, NO!" He screamed then, out of desperation, unable to help the tears which threatened to spill from his eyes. He did not want to be here; Megatron had never done this before, where he had interfered with an attack. He had always left his inferiors to do it. And now, the one time he had decided to participate . . .
Jack hung his head, taking shuddering breaths as he tried not to induce a full-blown panic attack. The past gripped him in a tight hold, reminding him of what happened the last time Megatron had taken him prisoner.
I can't let him do anything. Optimus . . . he has to live. He has to fight. I would rather die than let Megatron take advantage of me again.
His muscles quivered, forgetting his pain as remembrance of Ratchet, of the horrors they witnessed together, flashed across his thoughts. His quivers soon turned to shaking uncontrollably, terrified of what was to come. He was certainly going to be tortured. Him and -
"Mirage?" He looked back up, turning his head this way and that to survey the room. He noticed his gun and supplies were in a pile behind him, as if his captors were unsure what to do with everything. Surely one would think Megatron would just have them throw it away, especially the obvious weapon, however there was no way to guarantee they actually knew what it was. That, or they kept it as a mocking reminder there was no way he could escape. Even if he tried to reach back, there was easily a car length between him and his weapon.
His initial look-around informed him that Mirage was nowhere to be found, which left him even more uneasy. Where was he? Did . . . did Megatron . . .
Before he could finish the thought, if he even dared, the door opened. He realized it was behind him, the human forced to either crane his neck or guess as to who could be entering the room.
But he had no need to make any assumptions.
"You are awake. Good." The voice still gave him chills. Each word was like a caress from Death itself, but instead of promising to take his pain away, Megatron would inflict it to the point Jack wished he could die.
"Leave me alone," he said, the words sounding much more pathetic than intended.
There was a laugh, the sound of transformation shortly following. Normally he felt relief with such a noise, but instead it only heightened his anxiety. The footsteps which followed were much quieter than their predecessors, however that did not alleviate any of Jack's worries. He jerked forward when claws touched his hair, running through his locks as if they had any business being near him.
"I said, leave me alone!" He snarled, trying to thrust his head and elbow back to strike the tyrant. Instead, the motion just strained his opposite shoulder, his restraints too tight for any true give. His efforts earned another amused noise, the steps circling around to face the prisoner.
Megatron's optics appeared brighter than usual, their red hue not any less evil than before. Jack glared at him, his fear slowly replaced, or at least accompanied by, intense anger. He hated Megatron. The dictator looked at him with a disgusting grin on his face, razor sharp denta gleaming.
"It has been some time, Jack," he purred. "Far too long."
"I would argue it wasn't long enough," he spat back, his hands clenched into fists. He was so frustrated with his situation he was close to breaking down in sobs, but he refused to do so in front of him.
He tilted his head away as the servo of a Prime extended out to stroke his cheek, snarling out a warning. Though the human was likely to break his teeth if he bit the hard metal, he was not above trying.
Cold digits touched the scars, stroking them with emotionless affection. Jack closed his eyes, grimacing at the memory. A part of him realized he would likely prefer that pain over what he was going to receive now.
"How does it feel, to be reminded daily of your failures?" Megatron asked him mockingly, scraping his thumb just along his jaw.
"If I wanted to know, I would have asked you," Jack retorted.
He flinched when Megatron growled and raised a servo to strike him, but the warlord hesitated. Jack felt whatever sliver of confidence he had falter, recognizing the thoughtful look passing over Megatron's face, which was replaced by his sadistic leer.
"Perhaps it is just not reminder enough."
The servo caught Jack's face before he could try to move it away or fight back, the human struggling in his grip.
"Let . . . me go!" He hissed, barely able to speak as the tyrant practically held his jaw in place. His eyes grew with fear as Megatron lowered a sharp claw to his face, nearly bulging from their sockets as he fought with renewed vigor, only to close as he screamed in pain.
Megatron worked carefully and efficiently, ripping Jack's delicate flesh. He hardly seemed to mind the blood and gore, more involved in the task at hand. Jack could not see what he was doing, but he could feel it.
"There," Megatron released him once he was finished. "That will ensure you never forget."
Jack hung his head, trying to catch his breath as his body shuddered. Some of his blood trickled into his mouth, which he spit on the ground before turning his head to press his cheek against his shoulder. His shirt began soaking up the blood, his eyes still closed.
He was certain that Megatron had connected the three scars into a jagged "M," which, thanks to the middle scar, likely looked almost intentionally stylized.
M. For Megatron.
Jack looked back at the Decepticon, glaring at him. In return, he received a grin.
"We have only just begun," he promised the human.
"If I never receive medical attention, I'll die," Jack pointed out, gritting his teeth. At the very least, each hospitalization would provide him with a break, if not also a chance to escape.
"Any and all attention you receive will be from me," Megatron's declaration sent cold fingers down Jack's spine, freezing him in place. "The only one you shall ever see is me. Ratchet had his turn. Now, I believe it is yours."
The mention of his former friend's name made Jack's heart stutter. Ratchet. Then, he laughed, trying to force the terrible memories from his psyche.
"What use would you have brainwashing a human?" He asked, ensuring it sounded like he had just heard the dumbest plan of his life.
"I have found, time and time again, that the Autobots have always had some advantages with the human factor," Megatron answered almost far too smoothly. "And though I have worked on him, there is one thing Ratchet cannot appear to dismiss: you. So, I believe it is in my pet's best interest if I provide him with one of his own."
Jack felt a familiar sickness twist his gut. "You want to turn me into a Decepticon," he said, "so you can better control Ratchet."
"Indeed," the tyrant did not bother denying it. "And just as I did with him, you will be broken."
"Never."
"I guarantee it."
Rage filled Jack's chest, and he spit at the tyrant. The mixture of blood and saliva hit Megatron's armor with a splink, the Decepticon jerking backwards as if he had been punched. An equal amount of rage filled his optics.
"You will wish you did not do that," he hissed, baring his sharp denta. There was a moment where the Decepticon contemplated his next move, eventually beginning to circle.
Jack tried to follow his every move, struggling when Megatron slipped out of sight. Of course, the back was the classic area to receive punishment; though Megatron had delighted himself with assaulting Ratchet's chest and ripping off pieces of armor, he could not do that with Jack here. At most, he could hit him-
The human screeched as claws seized his shirt from behind, effortlessly tearing through the fabric as if it were made of silk. At first Jack thought he was just tearing at it to do so, but then he realized the tyrant was systematically removing the shirt. He ripped it along one arm then the other, letting it fall away. The cool air kissed Jack's skin, making him shiver.
"What are you doing?" He hissed, curling his legs a little tighter beneath him. "I need that to keep warm!"
"The temperature of the room is adjusted for human compatibility," Megatron replied with a snarl. He circled around to Jack's front, his angry optics observing him. Jack shuddered, unable to help it as he watched the vermillion oculars move from his face, down his chest, and settle on his waistline.
"Stay away from me!" Jack fought like a rabid animal as Megatron approached. The last thing he wanted to be was completely vulnerable in front of the warlord. His fighting increased as the talons came closer, reaching out for him. "Megatron, don't."
His voice cracked, showing his weakness, but it gave the warlord pause. Megatron was very much still livid, however he had yet to hear the same desperation in Jack's voice from any other prisoner. There was begging for mercy, there was pleading and bargaining, but never this.
It was a sad, soft form of I don't want this.
No one ever wanted torment, however this was different. Cybertronians only protested the removal of their armor because it hurt. Megatron had easily ripped off leg, arm, torso, even helm pieces before, bathing in the screams of his victims. Each one had asked him not to do it, but only to avoid pain. Jack felt no pain, he was well enough aware of human concepts to understand that. So why did he protest like no other Cybertronian did?
"I will do as I wish," he growled, bending down to see optic-to-eye with Jack. "You feel no pain, Jack. And yet you object."
The human answered the question that had not been asked. "If you remove my clothes, you expose everything. It's embarrassing! And quite frankly, it's not something you deserve to see!"
Megatron tilted his helm, not at all understanding. Jack almost gaped, in complete disbelief that the warlord, who apparently knew what clothes were, had no idea why they were worn.
"I'm not explaining any of that to you," he grimaced, praying to any god who would listen that Megatron would not insist. "You can get on with torturing me. Beat me within an inch of my life, I don't care. You just don't remove any other clothes."
The tyrant laughed. "How fascinating. You would go so far as to allow yourself to be broken just to retain these insignificant articles?"
Jack yelped when the tyrant suddenly slipped a claw through one of the belt loops, pulling him closer by the fragile strap. Their faces were nearly touching, their bodies even closer than that. He felt heat blossom on his cheeks, his heart hammering in his chest.
He never, ever wanted to get this close to the tyrant. Being in the palm of his hand was one thing, but this . . . by the Allspark, this was ten different kinds of humiliating. He moved his head, not daring to share breath with the psychotic Decepticon.
"What else are you willing to trade, Jack?" Megatron grinned dangerously at him, his cold breath wafting across his skin. "How much will you sacrifice for your dignity?"
Of course. Megatron had inadvertently found a weak point, and he wanted to exploit it as much as he could. He wanted to push Jack to his absolute limits, and if it meant not getting blood on his servos, well, he was not about to complain.
Jack's shoulders began to ache from the awkward position, begging him to come up with an answer. He gazed at the tyrant, gritting his teeth as he hatefully glared into those merciless red optics.
"Nothing," he seethed. "You can borderline kill me, Megatron. But I won't tell you anything."
The tyrant gazed at him, then just laughed. "Hardly a loss to me. Mirage will be thoroughly interrogated, and I will wring every drop of information he possesses out from his helm."
No. Optimus. "Don't," Jack did not know why he bothered begging. "Don't hurt him. Just torture me, Megatron. And let him go."
"You know all too well that is not an option," Megatron grinned, watching the horror as it grew on Jack's face. "All of your Autobot secrets will belong to me. And I will destroy your movement again. But rest assured . . ." claws stroked his face, moving and cupping his cheek like a lover, "I will be merciful to your human friends."
"You will never win," Jack glowered, feeling his arms start to go numb.
Megatron let him go, from both servos, the human yowling in protest as his legs slammed into the ground, nearly bending an ankle too far as he scrambled to regain some balance. Megatron began to circle.
"That remains to be seen," he mused. "However . . ."
Claws gripped his shoulder, sinking into the flesh with ease and eliciting another cry of pain.
"Optimus Prime is dead. With each passing day your resistance grows weaker, and I gain new allies. The Autobots will crumple, as they were destined to, and you will have no one but me."
Jack screamed as the claws twisted, coaxing more blood to trickle from the wound while fire raced across every nerve in the vicinity.
"If all you have to bargain with is your pathetic dignity, then I see no reason as to grant your wish," it took a moment for the words to settle in his mind, but by then it was too late.
"No-!" His entire body tensed as claws seized his hips, tearing into them as they ripped his protection from him.
Mercifully, his boxers remained intact, but that did not make this any less humiliating. The next scream was that of rage and borderline betrayal. He could not actually be angry at Megatron, as he had made no promises, but he thought there was at least an understanding.
He shivered in disgrace, feeling like some kind of object as Megatron made his way back around to his front. Once again, his crimson optics took in his form in morbid fascination. The human body was a strange one, and though Megatron had no desire to become intimately acquainted with it, its smooth slopes and divets intrigued him. One would think that a species descended from Unicron would have more Cybertronian qualities, but instead Earth had taken on a more organic form. Such a pity, that a species sired from one of the most powerful beings in the galaxy would be so fragile.
He ignored Jack as he glared, taking his sweet time planning his next move. The human shook, likely from humiliation and fear, his muscles taut with stress. The organic had curled in on himself, the fetal position protecting his tender front and vital organs. However, that very much left his back exposed.
Megatron ran a servo along his arm as he circled his prisoner for a third time, his digit tracing the deformity there. The hand reflexively clenched, the warlord remembering just as vividly of the incident. It had apparently healed, though he recognized the presence of a few surgical scars - it had required further intervention than a simple wrap.
"I see your maternal unit repaired it well," he said, aware that Jack knew what he was talking about.
"I was lucky," Jack seethed. "No thanks to you."
"I do believe I was the one who retrieved her," Megatron retorted. "As I was feeling particularly merciful." He slipped past the chain, Jack no longer able to see him. The tips of his dangerous digits traced down his arm again, pausing just beyond his shoulder joint, against his scapula. "However, you will no longer have such a luxury."
Jack screamed as unexpected pain lashed across his back, Megatron tearing into his delicate flesh with ease. Blood trailed from the cuts in copious droves, dripping down to his feet. He grit his teeth, cutting off the scream as he squeezed his eyes shut. The last thing he wanted was satisfaction from his cries of pain. What made it worse was the unexpectedness of the attack; but at this point, he should have realized it was to be anticipated.
"You humans are so weak," Megatron hissed in his ear, the chill of his breath sending painful goosebumps across his skin.
"Then be careful not to kill me," Jack snapped back, thrusting his head back. His head connected with Megatron's helm, though it rightly hurt him more than the tyrant. Regardless he heard a satisfactory growl of anger, and once again pain ripped through his back, down his spine. He screamed, the skin there more sensitive thanks to the rachis, and even more warm fluid running across what skin was left untouched.
Megatron's arm circled around and gripped his chin, tilting his head back as he snarled into his ear.
"I am going to ensure you wish I would grant such a mercy."
The human grunted as those digits sliced his skin from the force of the grip, some blood beeding to the surface, but it was the least damage the warlord had wrought yet. He supposed it was a mercy that he could not anticipate each attack; that meant his body was less tense -
The next blow came as brute force, Megatron's fist colliding with the side of his ribs. Jack could not even scream as the air escaped his lungs, almost convinced one had collapsed as pain burst from the connecting point and traveled across his chest and back. He groaned in agony, sinking further to the ground as he struggled to breathe.
The Decepticon watched him, now paused in front of him and watching. Jack hung his head, coughing and retching. The pain never seemed to cease until, finally, he wrested control of himself and took a deep breath, hissing when it merely exacerbated his ribs.
At least one of them is definitely broken.
Cold metal wrapped around his chin again and forced him to look up, glaring into loathing optics.
"You have had enough . . . for now," Megatron decided, his servo moving away. "I will give your pathetic organic body time to heal. Make no mistake, I am far from finished with you."
"If you're planning on making me call you master," Jack hissed, "It won't happen."
That put a pleased grin on Megatron's face, the first after the human had managed to put him in a sour mood.
"We will see," came the reply. Very rarely was Megatron given a challenge he could not overcome, and he was most interested to see if the human would be any more resilient than his Autobot counterpart. Though he would need to revise his approach, Megatron wanted to break him.
He wanted to tear Jack to pieces then allow Ratchet to stitch him back together. They began as a pair, and now Megatron was determined to have the set. It was fitting, he supposed, as he ruled both Cybertron and Earth, to have a pet from each planet. The concept was oddly poetic.
They will be mine.