Chapter Text
Slamming hard into the floor of yet another dingy cell, Nightshade skidded across the floor and into the ragged, pipe-laid back wall with a pained crackle. Up ahead, the door slammed shut, leaving only a small square window for their captor to leer down at them, amber visor glinting maliciously.
"Fangs off this'n, 'Lock. Or don't. I don' care, maybe it'll teach'em not t'make pipe bombs outta rations." Stomping away, his departure briefly blinded Nightshade as bright light replaced his helm, and the Terran flinched into a loose ball with a staticky hiss.
Scrubbing the pixels from their optics, Nightshade quietly lamented the miscalculations that'd led up to now, vocalizer again crackling as they attempted to scratch the itch that'd settled in their intake from their captors poor job at shutting them up. It wasn't enough to be split the furthest from their siblings, apparently.
Was utilizing highly explosive energon as a makeshift grenades charge in an enclosed area a terrible idea? Definitely, but every other idea the Terrans had pitched were nonstarters, and Nightshade couldn't just do nothing.
…
…
…
Okay, so stuffing the thing down their captors backplates with a hit-or-miss detonator was pretty dumb in hindsight, especially with the abysmal odds of it actually working, but still, what else could've been done? They'd already tried ganging up on him (which had failed spectacularly), trapping him (almost succeeded, until he'd managed to grab Thrash by the wheels and threaten to break them), and chucking Twitch in drone mode over his helm (she made it, but quickly found out there were several other crewmates aboard as well) to no avail, and it wasn't like any of them could process energon anyways.
At the same time, though, Nightshade didn't want to think about what would've happened if that bomb had worked as intended.
Not any more than they already had, anyways.
With their attention mostly focused inwards, Nightshade failed to notice the subtle shff of metal from the corner of their small cell and the drag of plates across the warped flooring between them and the wall. Metal creaked with hesitant steps that mimicked the ships groaning, to the point that an entire, exhaust-warm snout had shoved into Nightshades side before they noticed.
And reacted with a perfectly appropriate scream and flailing limbs, bracer blades lighting to their defense as the Terran scrambled away from whatever thing had touched them.
There, poofed up against the far wall like a startled porcupine, the dim outline of something massive and weirdly canid stared back at them, making an odd squealing noise similar to the timing belt in Moms truck. Even across the room, the thing loomed over them even from a distance, sharp angled and heavy-footed. Nightshade had fluffed themselves up too, wings flared all the way out and upside down stood frozen for a long while, with only that sad sound and Nightshades own vents to break up the monotony.
Noticing Nightshades staring, the beasts flickering optics slid to the floor, its thick, spiky tail beating slow and noisy against the ground. It began to slink around the edges of the room, fluidly attempting to get out of sight, but Nightshade knew better.
"I'm not going to hurt you," they stated, backing towards the door with their pitiful only weapons pointed out at the thing. "As long as you don't hurt me."
Squeaking again as its plan failed, the beast changed tactics, instead beelining straight for Nightshade like a barn cat stalked a mouse, optics still downcast. Bristling, the Terrans wings slapped at the door, some half-afted attempt to either stand or intimidate, they weren't sure, and they puffed at it with cracked-open vents for a noisy hissing sound.
The thing paused, one big paw halfway into another step, and Nightshade was reminded vividly of those jaguar videos Hashtag had found; the ones of them fishing, waiting to pounce into the water and snap the neck of some poor prey animal.
Then —muddy yellow optics narrowed unevenly— it finally looked at them; not at the floor, not at their pedes, but studiously, opticking the Terran up and down. It lingered on Nightshades vibroblades and their crest, long ear-like appendages airplaning to mimic its shape, and twitched a glance up further at the door window.
"He's not out there anymore." Nightshade assured carefully, taking the things brief distraction to shuffle onto their knees.
And away a couple more paces.
Anything that wasn't within arms reach of that long, undoubtedly tooth-filled maw sounded great to Nightshade right about now. Unfortunately, even that small noise brought them back into focus for those hard, high-beam eyes, and they forced down a flinch at the attention.
"I'm not tasty, I can promise you that." Nightshade tried, wings flaring once more as it began to stalk slowly after them, nose whuffling intently at the stale atmosphere. "I'm-I'm all sorts of gritty and gross, full of strange Earthen materials, even dirt!" It kept coming, making strange chirping sounds and airplaning its ears, never giving enough time for the Terran to get properly on their pedes. "Not to mention all the water, I'm certain it'd rust you apart in a matter of days."
They were running out of uneven floor to scoot across now, somehow achieving a full 180 from where they'd started to the corner that was almost certainly behind them. In a fit of growing desperation they kicked out, but it never made anywhere close to contact and the beast growled in response, fluffing up its mane.
"Please," Nightshade whimpered, feeling hard floor become thick rubber beneath their claws, "please go away!"
It didn't listen, even going so far as to close the distance and butt Nightshade that last little bit into the last little corner they'd probably ever be in and stretch all the way up to it's full height with a shaking, full-frame groan.
And then it twisted around and flopped onto its belly with all the grace of a wet rag, rolling and floor-surfing around until its warm, broad back had firmly trapped Nightshade in their corner, weighing down on their lap and making a strange sort of wall between them and the rest of the room. Afterwards it seemed to deflate, causing a long, drawn-out hiss of depressurizing hydraulics and stress tension, and Nightshade found themselves at a loss. They blinked at the back of the things helm —now rested on its oversized forepaws and tightly-tucked tail with one ear tilted back and the other pricked forwards— as if waiting for it to change its mind and swing around to snap them cleanly in two, but that instance never came. If anything the thing melted into Nightshade like a scratch-happy Fluffy Ears, noisy systems petering off as it made itself comfortable.
"That…wasn't what I was hoping for." Pushing on the beasts back, Nightshade quickly found out just how heavy the thing really was —as if the steady numbing of their awkwardly-squashed struts weren't enough indication— when even considerable force barely shifted its shoulder, much less the rest of its body, and they froze when it shot back a glare that could only ever be likened to one of Moms "quit before I make you" stares. Swallowing, Nightshade shrank back into the wedge of their corner, and the thing turned back to the door with a huff.
"You can't keep me here forever, you know."
"Grph."
"It's very rude."
"Mrh."
"I'll get out eventually, and it wouldn't be the first time either."
"Rghm."
Well, this conversation was going nowhere, and Nightshades wing joints were beginning to ache.
"Can I use you as a pillow, or are you going to growl at me again?" It merely flicked an ear at them, and the Terran just decided to go for it.
Maybe if it bit them they could get an escape opportunity.
Laying first one hand then the other on its side, Nightshade watched the twitch and shift of the beasts muzzle as they sloooooowly laid their upper half over top and folded up their arms under their head, wings fluttering tensely in the waiting period between then and finally settling once it became clear it wasn't going to do any more than side-eye them.
"Well…good night, I guess."
"Grmh."