Archive of Our Own

A new minicon signal alerted the Decepticons. 

At least, the Decepticons that were still on the moonbase. 

Megatron, Starscream, and Demolishor were the only mechs there. The others were out looking for other minicons or scouting for resources. 

All three of them, if they were not already there, rushed to the warp gate room. 

Demolishor was the last one there. 

He could vaguely make out the sound of Megatron's voice. It was stern and cruel. On the other end of the spectrum was Starscream's voice. It held a certain frustration and confusion that Demolishor had begun to notice more lately. 

Demolishor walked in. He was left with the end of a heated conversation. 

"—will be staying!"

Megatron towered over Starscream with an angry digit pointed at the Seeker. 

The image disappeared swiftly. 

Megatron gestured to the warp gate, sending Demolishor an expectant look. He simply began walking towards the warp gate and stood within it. Megatron was not far behind him. 

The warp was activated. 

The two mechs arrived on unfamiliar terrain.

The planet was dead looking and dark, the ground and surrounding organic life had a blackened touch to it. The looming deep darkness of the blue sky provided them with little light. Though up ahead, a city could be seen, the center of it shining with distinct yellow illumination. 

Realizing that they certainly were not at their destination— that they were not even on Earth, they both attempted to contact Starscream. 

There was no response. 

Megatron let out a growl of annoyance and muttered something about Starscream’s tampering. 

Demolishor didn’t believe that Starscream would do that and he hoped that Megatron wouldn’t take out his anger with the inconvenience on the Seeker. That would be unfair. 

Megatron looked out towards the city lights, his whole frame seemingly sighing as he let a huff out his vents.

"Come on, Demolishor. Let us find contact."

Megatron lumbered away from him with large, dramatic steps. Demolishor stood there for a few moments before following up in pursuit. He was meandering over Megatron’s faint exasperation and he was still caught on the accusation towards Starscream. 

With the same, boring pace across the stagnant, cold landscape, the two mechs treaded for cycles upon end. 

Much time had passed on Demolishor's internal clock once they reached the outskirts of the city. 

Slowing down, Megatron passed him a weary look— one that Demolishor was not accustomed to seeing on the fierce mech's face. It rooted a vague feeling of unsteadiness in his spark. He frowned. 

"Sir— what's wrong?" 

He asked, the sound of his vocalizer loud and obnoxious. 

Megatron gave him a look of wavering anger, "Quiet, soldier." 

Demolishor stilled at the look and the words. His frame went rigid. He hated it when Megatron’s anger was directed at him. And, for what he knew, they were in possible danger. 

Megatron led him to a building. 

There was no light emanating from it. Only stale, eerie darkness. 

Megatron leaned against the building in an attempt at stealth, and Demolishor copied him. The Decepticon leader glanced around silently. 

They waited there for what seemed like cycles. 

Then, when Megatron deemed it clear, he stepped away from the building and out onto the path way. 

Demolishor had offlined his optics for some time, and he only onlined them moments after Megatron had stepped back out. 

His leader did not turn around to check if he was following behind. He just stood there for a few moments before lifting a pede and taking a confident step forwards. Demolishor felt the strong urge to closely follow. 

He was met with darkness. 

—

When his systems onlined, he was met with darkness once again. 

Though, not complete darkness. 

He could see a thin ray of hard light somewhere to the left of him. Everything else was muted. The light was so very bright, and for a long time, the sharp light was the only thing that existed. 

But, the universe continued to move at its normal speed. 

Demolishor pushed through the suspended numbness as panic overtook him. What had happened? And where was he? Why was it so dark? What happened to Megatron? And where was—

His train of thought was wiped out by the light of what seemed to be a bright star consuming his vision.

It was only a mere doorway, he realized once his optics properly adjusted. 

In the doorway, stood a looming silhouette. Demolishor immediately made it out to be some type of organic . A large organic, not like the puny ones that inhabited planet Earth. Its skin was ugly and wrinkled, and a soft purple-blue color, one that stood out against the bright yellow light. It was equipped with dull gray attire. 

Despite its ragged appearance, its voice was a terror. 

"Enjoying your visit, pathetic civil-fighters?" 

Demolishor heard a frustrated growl from the right of him. It was a familiar sound, belonging to the mech none other than Megatron. 

The disgusting organic let out a sickening laugh. 

"Hah! And you just think you'll be escaping soon, don't you?" 

Demolishor felt his anger spike. He was not going to put up with this stupid organic's words any longer. He lowered his guns. 

There was a pause. A solid silence only lasting astro-seconds filled the cell. 

He lowered his guns once again. 

Another quick pause. 

Demolishor could not lower his guns.

"Oh, and don't you mechs think you'll be staying comfortable, either. I have just the perfect thing for you!" 

The organic stepped inside and moved away from the doorway as more organics of similar look flooded in. The original organic let out a devious chuckle, then pointed a nasty wrinkled finger towards Demolishor. 

The organics surrounded him, their shadows blocking the bright light from the doorway. 

Then, they reached down to place their grimy servos on him. 

Violently, he shook them off. 

They just kept coming, sliding over his pristine armor, leaving dirty imprints behind. They wrapped their servos around his arms and hauled his frame up, all while he thrashed in their grip and desperately tried to get his weapon systems to online. 

An overwhelming sense of doom filled his processor as he was dragged to the doorway despite his prestigious efforts to stop it from happening. 

—

The cell door slammed shut with a loud bang. 

Megatron had kept his gaze fixed on the wall while Demolishor was dragged out. It pained him to watch such a thing: the organics tormenting his own soldier, especially Demolishor, who was loyal, and innocent in a way. 

Of course, Demolishor had fought in the war for millions of years alongside Megatron. 

But, Demolishor was not used to being on the receiving end of organic's and mech's intense cruelty. 

And, with the words the organic had so smugly sneered out, Megatron feared that these organics were just exactly the cruel type. 

Megatron let out a frustrated sigh through his intake. He felt a burning fury within him, at Starscream, and at his situation. Why couldn't Starscream just be loyal? And why did the warp gate have to fail? Why did they have to be so unlucky as to arrive on this wretch planet, infested with invasive, vile organics?

He clenched his servos and glared at the wall across from him. It had ugly blackened stains on it, likely from past tortured prisoners. Megatron shook off the feeling of deep discomfort with anger. He could not let this place get to him. He knew that he and Demolishor would survive. 

On that note, Megatron offlined his optics. He would wait until they returned Demolishor, if they returned Demolishor, and then he would question the mech and devise a plan based off of the information he received. 

He fully leaned back against the wall, his helm softly bumping against it. 

Megatron waited for cycles until he heard the cell door screech open again. 

The organics threw Demolishor onto the ground like the soldier was a worthless pile of metal scrap. If Megatron could will his combat systems online, he would have shot the organic square in the spark for such an offence. 

He waited for Demolishor to pick himself up. 

Rather quickly, with a timidity that Megatron had not seen in him before, the tank scrambled away from the cell door. 

He then glanced at Megatron with terror in his optics. 

Megatron's spark ached. 

But then, he pushed the pitiful feeling away. There was no time for empathy in war. The Decepticon leader was aware of this unfortunate truth. 

"Have you got any clue as to where exactly we are, Demolishor?"

Megatron added an insistent edge to his voice. He knew it was cruel. Still, he had priorities— his and Demolishor's escape. 

The smaller tank bore his optics into Megatron’s frame for a few, long moments. 

Then he unceremoniously replied: 

"I- sir— All I saw was a hall. It- it seems we are in a building of some sort." 

Megatron could hear Demolishor's processor stuttering. 

He turned a blind optic to Demolishor's clear distress. He needed to focus on a plan to get them out of here. He stared down his soldier. He wanted him to feel the pressure. 

"Anything else you noticed, Demolishor?"

Once again, Megatron spoke with a dangerous, demanding edge to his voice. He could see Demolishor's frame wildly tense up when he emphasized the soldier's name. 

"N-negative sir," Demolishor told him, shaking his helm back and forth lightly. 

Megatron frowned, one of his fangs slightly peaking out.

"Well, when they come back to take you again, I suggest you look around." 

Demolishor did not react to Megatron's harsh words. The tank simply nodded and pushed himself up against the cell wall, not far from Megatron. 

Silence fell across the dreadful cell. 

Megatron did not fail to notice the bright blue energon occasionally smeared across Demolishor's frame. It left behind a faint trail where he had walked in the cell. 

Megatron was left to wonder what exactly they had done to his soldier. He assumed that they had merely cut at his frame and tried to pry information from him. The good thing about Demolishor was that Megatron knew he could trust him. There were no traces of disloyalty in the mech's frame. 

Drawn out of his processor, Megatron saw said mech turning towards him in the corner of his optic. He was prompted with a question: 

"Permission to recharge, sir?" 

Megatron simply grunted in affirmation. 

Demolishor shortly offlined his optics and his frame went limp. 

The Decepticon leader found himself glaring at the wall across from himself once again. What a situation.  

Then, considering his options, he too offlined his optics and fell into recharge. 

Hiding within recharge, was peace. 

—

Megatron awoke to a loud sound. 

He attempted to kick his weaponry systems online, seemingly to no avail. He had forgotten for a few moments that he was still in the despicable organic prison with an inhibitor blocking his most vital battle systems from onlining. 

He glanced over to see a mech hovering at the doorway. The mech’s frame was mostly black with hints of red. It was not any mech he recognized, and he did recognize all of his followers. The mech did not seem like an Autobot either. Their demeanor was far too malicious for a soft-sparked Autobot. 

Megatron growled at them. That meant that they had no faction— worse than being an Autobot. That meant that they were purely a coward. 

Surprisingly, their focus was not on the Decepticon leader. 

It was on his soldier, who was terrified at the sight of the mech. 

Megatron tilted his head in an inquisitive manner. 

Why was the mech here— and why was Demolishor so frightened his presence?

Megatron watched as a sick smirk grew on the mech’s face plates.

"Demolishor."

The name was spoken in a way Megatron had not heard directed towards Demolishor before, though he certainly had heard that exact tone in his life span. It was an edgy, dangerous tone, though, it still sounded fond. It was purely deceitful and malicious. It was a voice of endless torment.

Megatron scowled at this. 

"Why don't you come with me, little Decepticon?"

A hot glare was placed on the black and red mech. 

Demolishor pushed himself away from the doorway, his back scraping against the wall as he did so. Megatron did not take his seething glare away from the mech at the doorway. 

He couldn't tell the mech not to take Demolishor, he only gave his look as a warning to not hurt Demolishor too badly, or else Megatron would personally make sure that that pain was returned tenfold. 

The mech stepped into the prison. 

"Or would you rather us stay here?" 

Demolishor frantically shook his helm side to side. 

A grin that could be read as kind, but that Megatron only saw as masked smugness, immediately formed on the mech's face at Demolishor's frantic reaction.

"Well then, why don't you get up and come over here?"

Demolishor obliged, like he always did. 

Megatron wasn't certain whether Demolishor was doing it because he had told the soldier to retrieve more information, or if he was doing it for the other mech. He purely hoped it was the former. 

The mech never once looked at Megatron, even though the Decepticon leader was sending him a fiery glare. He only kept his eyes on Demolishor as he walked out of the cell. The mech stepped out after Megatron’s soldier and slammed the cell door shut. 

The Decepticon leader was left in silent solitude once more. 

His engines roared in frustration. 

He hoped that Demolishor would prove more useful in information gathering this time. For both of their sakes. 

—

It was a long time before Megatron heard the door slide open again. 

Demolishor was shoved down onto the floor the exact same way that he had been before. This time, Megatron pushed away his anger at the act. His main focus was to extract the information from his soldier. They needed a plan of escape. 

Megatron waited. 

Demolishor heaved his frame off of the floor with weak arms. Megatron could hear his frame creak. 

When it seemed like the soldier had picked himself up again, he crashed back down onto the floor, his heavy frame banging against it loudly. Megatron kept his stare indifferent. 

Demolishor then looked up at him.

Megatron stared back. 

Megatron did not miss the newfound terror in his soldier's optics. It was a terror, one that was so unsettling, but simultaneously so unmistakable, and Megatron’s spark dropped as he registered it. 

"Demolishor."

The smaller tank kept looking at him. 

Megatron relaxed his posture.

"Come here."

His words were commanding. Demolishor did exactly as he was told. He managed to drag himself up from the dirty ground and get onto his pedes. He limped over to Megatron and stared down at the leader. 

Megatron placed a servo on the floor next to him. 

"Sit." 

His soldier sat. 

He then turned his antlered helm towards the mech who now resided next to him. Demolishor's long, blank gaze was fixed on the ground. Megatron did not like this. 

"Look at me, soldier." 

Demolishor steadily brought his gaze over to Megatron's frame, though their optics did not meet. 

"Now tell me… hmm… tell me what happened."

A dark look fell across Demolishor's faceplates. 

"I- I don't understand, sir."

Megatron opened his intake to pry further, but was interrupted. 

"I d-don't understand what they did to me." 

Megatron heard sheer pain in Demolishor's voice— it seemed as if it could break at any moment. 

Megatron placed a gentle servo on Demolishor's upper arm. 

The smaller tank jerked away from him. 

Megatron withdrew his servo. 

"Megatron, sir– I'm sorry I didn't mean to—"

Of course, Demolishor would start apologizing in a situation like this. Ridiculous mech, was what Megatron muttered to himself. 

"It's just that– that- he—"

Demolishor trailed off, his gaze dropping to the floor once again. 

Megatron found himself wanting to support the distressed soldier. And he obviously could not reach anything verbally. Perhaps, in this case, actions spoke louder than words. 

In a quick harsh motion, he got a hold of Demolishor and dragged him on top of his legs, pushing him up against his chassis. 

Demolishor did not resist. 

He looked down at the mech who's frame was now closely pushed up against his. He could feel Demolishor trembling in his grip. The soldier's optics were locked onto his chassis, refusing to look at him.

Demolishor was terrified.

Megatron, carefully, dangerously, slid a servo around Demolishor and started lightly rubbing his back. 

"Finish what you were saying, Demolishor." 

The smaller tank stayed completely still.

"He… he was p-placing his servos all over my frame. A-and then, sir, he forced open one of my panels."

Megatron’s engines growled at that. He was going to rip that mech's spark out.

Demolishor jerked. 

Megatron stared down at him. 

"My apologies." 

Demolishor snuck a glance up at Megatron. There was confusion on the poor soldier's face— Primus he was just a soldier. A mech built for war. An innocent mech in the sense of this twisted, deranged cruelty placed on him.

Megatron pitifully spoke. 

"It is alright, Demolishor. You can tell me what happened. I will not fault you, my most loyal soldier." 

Demolishor's frame relaxed— Megatron felt it push down on his own. The smaller tank, in a slight, likely unintentional movement, pressed their frames closer together. The Decepticon leader had to restrain himself from reacting. Megatron was not used to the closeness. 

"W-well, sir, he put his servos down there—"

Megatron stiffened anger. If that mech came back into the cell to torment Demolishor—

Megatron's indignant thoughts were halted when he felt a servo put on his chassis. He tensed at the contact. Demolishor's gaze had dropped from his optics. His subordinate's stare was set on the patterns on his chassis. The servo clutched onto him tighter. 

"I just don't understand why he was touching me like that!" 

Megatron could hear the anguish and innocent confusion in his voice. It unsettled him, to notice the way that Demolishor's voice had changed from its usual calm, confident roots. 

A feeling of overwhelming pity spread deep in his spark. This was unfair. This was not supposed to happen in war. There was only meant to be honorable combat, not disgusting, malicious physical torment. Not to that level. Megatron hated deserters to a newfound degree. 

In a flash of anger, he reached his other arm up and wrapped it around his soldier, jerking him protectively close.

"It is alright, soldier."

No, Demolishor was certainly not a sparkling, and he did not need to be coddled, but Megatron knew that he probably felt small, just like a sparkling, and would appreciate some form of care from another mech, even if it was his dangerous, unforgiving leader. 

He could feel Demolishor begin to shake, in fear or sadness, Megatron did not know. The smaller mech simply let his helm rest against Megatron's chassis, trying his best to stay silent and hide his pain. 

But, Megatron kept his optics locked on the mech, tracking his shaky, sorrowful movements. He knew exactly what Demolishor was doing. 

He was crying. 

Megatron knew how pathetic it was. Especially for  a Decepticon. Decepticons, hardened warriors from war, were not supposed to cry. But, nor were they supposed to be violated. 

He decided to let the show of weakness slide. Was he not already being weak himself, with the way he was coddling Demolishor in such a pitiful manner? Megatron let out a huff. The reasoning was enough to calm his nerves for now. 

He relaxed his own frame, fully leaning back against the cell wall. He kept his arms wrapped guardingly around Demolishor's frame. He was sure he felt Demolishor leaning into his rough touch. Nevertheless, it did not matter. Demolishor was loyal, wasn’t he? How could Megatron get angry at him in this situation? He clearly had no malicious intent towards Megatron. 

The Decepticon leader pushed the thought away and let the silence overtake him. 

Within a breem, Demolishor's frame had gone completely limp. 

The soldier trusted him enough to recharge directly in his grasp, even after being assaulted? What a blatant show of trust and weakness. Megatron hoped that Demolishor did not act this way around other mechs, or put so much trust into them. His hopes were slightly out of selfishness and genuine concern. 

Either way, Megatron waited. 

Cycles passed by in the otherwise desolate cell.

—

When the door slid open, Megatron dragged his optics away from the wall across from him, away from Demolishor, and took a look at the entrance. 

The red and black mech was there. He peered into the prison with gleaming red optics, seemingly confused for a few klicks. Then, he steadily looked over at the corner that Megatron was in. 

Those cruel red optics met his own. 

A sound suddenly emanated throughout the prison. 

"Megatron— the mighty, fierce Decepticon leader…" 

The mech was laughing at him. 

"I would have never expected such a sight from you."

Megatron grunted in annoyance. How dare this defector mock him? How dare this pathetic, cowardly mech even look down upon him in the slightest degree! 

The warlord served the mech with a sharp look. 

Said look was not taken into consideration as the mech began advancing towards him with tiny, slow pedesteps. Megatron did not like having his guard down. 

Placing a servo on Demolishor's shoulder, he pushed the soldier off of him, a bit more harshly than he intended. Demolishor would survive. 

It rubbed him in the wrong way, the way mechs like this one would have a smug superiority complex. They reminded him far too much of his former oppressors that he started the war against. He would not tolerate this mech's presence any longer. 

Megatron stood. 

And advanced. 

The mech’s smirk wavered as he took a step back, though, he brought up his arm, which had a nullray placed on it. He pointed the barrel towards Megatron's frame. 

He launched himself at the mech. 

Only a few measly shots could be fired before Megatron had his servos on the mech. He latched onto the gun and tore it away from the mech’s frame, sending sparks and shrapnel flying. He dropped it on the dirty ground. 

The mech was mortified. He screamed and struggled against Megatron's grip. 

"You’re a monster!"

Megatron slammed the mech against the wall. 

He could feel the mech shudder pathetically under his powerful servos. It was all so abhorrent, the way that the mocking mech had gone from his high strung sense of confidence to shaking and screaming and claiming that Megatron was the one who was the monster.

Megatron raised a servo, aiming directly for the mech’s spark. 

The metal made an ugly screeching sound as Megatron slammed his servo into it. It weakly bent under the pressure. 

The tyrant then retracted his servo and latched onto the fractured metal and ripped it away from the mech’s frame. The mech let out another agonized scream. 

"You are the monster here."

Megatron reached into their open chassis and wrapped his servo around their spark. 

He yanked it out. 

—

Demolishor watched as the red and black mech's lifeless spark was dropped onto the floor like a piece of scrap. 

Megatron turned around to face him. 

“Pick yourself up. We are leaving this planet.”

His leader's voice held that edge of annoyance to it, as always. 

Demolishor did as he was told, he got up, ignoring the sharp pains in his frame, and followed Megatron as the leader charged out of the cell. 

Megatron eventually found some sort of a communicator. It was simply technology, primitive to theirs, and the leader was easily able to manipulate it to his will. He switched to the Decepticon frequency and contacted the moonbase. 

“Starscream! What have you been doing!? I need you to activate the warp gate now!”

Starscream responded by asking for their coordinates. 

Luckily, both of their coordination systems were able to remain online. He watched as Megatron sent Starscream the coordinates.

Within seconds, a warp gate opened on them.

They were transported back to the Decepticon base. 

Demolishor stepped out of the warp gate first. Megatron stepped out after him. 

There, in the room, waited Starscream and Sideways. Demolishor could not spot Cyclonus. Perhaps he was still on his mission. He hoped that his minicon was safe somewhere in the base as well. Megatron had, before they left, demanded that the minicons stay at the base, so that there was no chance of the Autobots robbing them or persuading them to join, they could wait until the Autobots’ and minicons’ hopes died down to start using them again on this particular mission. 

Before Megatron could express his anger at Starscream, he turned to Demolishor. 

“I suggest you see yourself to the medbay, soldier.”

It wasn’t necessarily a request. Any command was a demand from Megatron. Demolishor had been planning on shrugging off his injuries, out of pure shame of himself. He felt belittled because he was confused, and that made him shameful— not to mention the way that he had cried in front of Megatron. He was sure he would be receiving punishment for that sometime soon. Maybe after Megatron was done showing his distaste towards Starscream, which Demolishor didn’t exactly agree with. 

Either way, Demolishor sauntered off to the medbay. He could hear the voice of an angered Megatron as he made his way away from the warp gate and down the halls. 

After a long while of painful, slow treading, he arrived at the medbay. 

No other mech was in there. 

He, with an apparent tiredness, made his way over to the medberth and sat himself down on it. His frame stilled for a few moments as he stared at the ground. He didn’t have any clue as to what to make of the situation on the other planet. He had not been tortured like that before. It confused him. Nevertheless, he felt a deep sense of violation, like that red and black mech and invaded his frame in such a dreadful way. 

Shaking his helm back and forth, Demolishor brought his optics up to the tools on a table. He reached for one and began working on his frame, steadily welding together the open cuts that had been left behind from painful incisions on his armor. 

—

When it seemed as if Demolishor could finally retire to his own quarters, he heard large pedesteps approaching, those of which could only belong to Megatron. 

Demolishor frowned to himself. 

He had held onto a vague hope that Megatron would not come to punish him. 

Megatron stepped into the medbay. 

Demolishor tried his best to remove the frown from his faceplates. 

Megatron stood there and stared for a few moments. 

His optics were locked onto Demolishor, his frame seemingly unmoving. Demolishor could not get a hint as to what exactly his leader was thinking. Megatron had a blank expression on his face. 

Then, Megatron advanced towards him. 

Demolishor fixed his posture. He was to be at attention when addressed by his leader, even if he was in fact, feeling fear ricochet through his stiff frame. 

Swiftly, Megatron's hulking frame stood before him. 

There was a servo brought up to the side of his shoulder. 

And, in that moment, a soft sentiment was spoken in the midst of a seemingly never-ending war. 

"I am sorry, Demolishor."