Chapter 1

<link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cadult%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml">

Megatron looked over at his (hopefully) soon-to-be mate. The night darkened the mine’s even more so, but Megatron wasn’t bothered. The light from the gems was enough.

Soft curves led the way from his chest plate, over his abdominal plating, down to his shapely hips. Steady invents and exvents expanded his chassis, the only evidence of function. Ash gray faceplates enthralled the warlord. Would they be soft and supple to his touch? Would they remain cold and closed off, or spread into joy when he entered the room? To see his expression contort in bliss was the goal of Megatron, but he wouldn’t push the scout into something that he didn’t want. His upbringing prevented it. To do such a thing was immoral, unlawful; Bumblebee had to love him.

Megatron was one-hundred percent sure that eventually Bumblebee would love him. The silver mech would do anything for his young one to ensure his happiness and safety; except returning him back to his Autobot brethren. No doubt the youngest Prime didn’t understand exactly what his predecessors had done. Murdering thousands, corrupting Cybertron, ruining anything the Knights had created in the name of Cybertron, destroying any trust left in the galaxies in the Knight’s name. Anger and frustration pulled at his spark, making him clench his fists. His fingers balled together, curled in frustration, until he looked over at his Bumblebee. The calming, steady invents soothed away Megatron’s anger. Just knowing that his love was okay and safe relaxed his unruly spark. The voice of his mentor, Turnblade, sounded in his helm. If your mate is okay and safe with you or someone you trust, you will survive anything that comes your way. It was one of the creeds of the Knighthood. 

 “My little Bee already fulfills a partial requirement as my mate and he doesn’t even know,” Megatron thought, as he rolled over and went back to recharge.

---

 Megatron onlined suddenly, sitting up in his berth. Something had woken the warlord, but he wasn’t sure what. A low grumbling sound made it’s way to Megatron’s audios, and he turned toward the sound.

The brilliant-yellow scout was sitting on his berth, curled into a ball of despair. “Bumblebee,” Megatron spoke, making sure to use his real name. “Would you like some energon?” The scout jumped, before dejectedly turning around.

“Umm…I-I’m not r-really h-hungry…” Bumblebee stuttered before his tank betrayed him.

“Bumblebee, you’ve got to take care of yourself,” Megatron gently chastised as he stood and walked towards the scout. Placing a servo on his shoulder, Megatron didn’t try to hid his hurt at his scout flinching away. “I’m not going to hurt you,” Megatron whispered. “You have to trust me.”

“I don’t have to do anything! The minute I do, that means that I have accepted you as my leader, and my mate! And then I’ll be forced to do whatever you say, with no input from myself at all!” Bumblebee retorted, full of malice.

Shocked, Megatron pulled away. “What makes you think slag like that is true?”

“Prime told me that that’s what happens when you find a mate. It depends on if you do the asking, or are being asked. If you ask, then you are the dominant one in the relationship, and whatever you say goes. Since you ‘asked’” Bumblebee put air quotes around the word, showing his utter sarcasm. “Then you are the dominant figure. If you wanted to beat me, there would be nothing anyone could do about it. That’s how it’s always been, Megatron. Or have you been lost in space for so long chasing after complete myths that you forgot what your home planet was like!?” After his outburst, Bumblebee seemed to pale, as if everything that he had just said came rushing back to him.

“Y-you’re going to…punish me now…a-aren’t you?” he whimpered, curling tighter into himself.

Anger boiled in Megatron's spark. The Primes were even more sexist and bigoted than he realized! All that praise about following the beliefs of Primus was complete bull-slag! He wanted nothing more than to go down to the Autobot's base and murder every single one of them! Corrupting the sparks of the youth apparently never ended...
 
But then, the implications of Bumblebee's statement snapped within Megatron's consciousness. Kneeling next to the distraught Autobot, Megatron struggled to find words to comfort him. At this point, anything that he said to the smaller mech would be turned into a lie, twisted and held against him. When someone is pinned against their will, their natural cunning and wit comes out, even if they didn't know that they had any in the first place. Considering Bumblebee's scathing silver tongue at times, Megatron knew that he could really garner nasty words from the yellow mech. But what to do?

Crouching low to the floor, Megatron leaned away from the younger mech, before sitting cross-legged on the ground. Lord Megatron did not bow. He did not kneel. He did not give someone else power over him; and yet, for his sparkmate, he would do anything.

“Bumblebee,” he softly intoned. “I would never hurt you. And it pains me that you would think I would do something like that. I can honestly say that I would never do that to you.” The sheer emotion in the words left Bumblebee breathless.

“B-but Prime said…”

“Do you remember what I said to you yesterday?” Megatron asked, daring to meet Bumblebee’s gaze. “That the Primes aren’t as good as you thought?”

Bumblebee nodded.

Megatron stood, pain flashing through his spark at the fear that washed over Bumblebee’s faceplates, before walking to the back of the room and filling up an energon cube. The room was silent except for the splash of the pink liquid filling the cup. Turning the tap off, he walked back to the smaller mech on the berth, and handed him the cube, a wordless command to drink.

“Bumblebee…I speak the truth. There would be no reason, no motive for me to try and deceive you, and that is the extent of it. I will try to be as honest as possible with you, forever more. And Bumblebee, you must drink.”

Obediently, the smaller mech raised the cube to his lips, swallowing the life giving liquid. Finally, the energon reached it’s completion, just the crystallized dregs clinging to the bottom of the cup. Megatron took the drink away, and disposed of it. He turned back to Bumblebee when a knock sounded on the door. 

Bumblebee smirked before he could help himself. Megatron looked at hi questioningly as he walked to the door.

“I mean, c’mon,” Bumblebee snorted derisively. “You guys are the big, bad Decepticon’s and you still knock on doors?”

Inwardly, Megatron was happy that the young mech seemed to snap back to his jovial, yet sarcastic, sense of humor. Outwardly, the grey warlord merely raised an optic ridge.

“If you recall, the carbon deposits here disguise our signal, but they also block comms. This is the only way of long distance communication, save screaming down the halls like a bunch of barbarians,” he deadpanned.

A small laugh escaped Bumblebee before he quickly sobered up. Oh well…it’s some progress. Opening the door, Megatron was met with one of the three faces of Blitzwing, Icy. “Good,” Megatron rumbled, before widening the door and allowing Blitzwing inside.

“Vhat did jou need, mien Lord?” Icy questioned, respectfully lowering his gaze as he stepped past his superior.

“I have important business to attend to elsewhere in the compound, and I need you to watch over Bumblebee for m-”

“WHAT!?” Bumblebee yelled, shooting off the bed and jumping right into Megatron’s faceplates. “Wh-what was all that slag about not letting any other Decepticon’s near me? I thought you were going to respect me, what happened to promising not to lie to me? Wh-” Bumblebee was silenced when Megatron placed one finger on his mouth.

“I said that they wouldn’t be near you without my permission. I trust Blitzwing, and oddly enough, he is the most sane one here.” Megatron began, taking his finger away from Bumblebee’s face.

Bumblebee just stared at him with his mouth hanging open, optics wide. Blitzwing shifted uneasily off to the side, faces switching repeatedly, but none of them had anything to say. Finally, Icy just decided to stay in charge, and watched as the dynamic between his Lord and the Autobot played out.

“Well, Starscream’s not allowed in my quarters, and do you really want to be around him anyways? And Black Arachnia and Lugnut are the ones that I need to have the meeting with, so they cannot watch over you anyways. They would sooner kill you than keep you around, although Black Arachnia may torture you more than the others.”

Bumblebee couldn’t argue with that logic, but he still had to ask one more question. “But why can’t I go with you?”

Standing, Megatron hardened his gaze. Walking to the door, he tossed his reply over his shoulder. “You can’t forget that we are at war.” The door closed softly behind him.

Bumblebee looked uncertainly up at Blitzwing. The larger Decepticon had his back to him; Bumblebee could easily shoot him in the back and try to run, but he still had no idea how to get out of the compound. And he still couldn’t comm. for help. Slag.

“You stay on that side of the room, got it Decepti-creep?” Bumblebee’s false bravado barely covered just how scared he really was.

"As jou vish, Bumblebee," the German-accented mech replied.

Pausing in his retreat back to his corner of the room, Bumblebee turned and asked, "Why did you just call me that?"

"Call jou vhat?" Icy questioned.

"My actual name...considering that most times we meet, you call me 'Autobot-slag,' 'cannon-fodder,' or my personal favorite, 'Yellow Menace.' So why the sudden change?" Bumblebee couldn't help but think that this was all an elaborate trick to get him to open up to the Decepticon cause. But if it was a joke, than surely Random would have come out already, spouting some nonsense about pulling the steel-wool over his eyes.

"Megatron has vished zhat ve treat jou vith vespect. Since jou obviously vant to be called by jour real name, I have no reason to call jou anyzink else. Iz zhat a problem?"

"N-no...I just didn't think...never...nevermind." Bumblebee mumbled, walking back to the berth. Sitting with his back against the wall, the yellow mech observed the Decepticon who in turn, watched over him.

---

Back at the Autobot base, Optimus Prime watched over the monitors. It had been nearly a week since Bumblebee had disappeared. They had notified the Elite Guard, but they were as good as useless on this planet. Ultra Magnus himself refused to allow his mechs to be sent on a "search and rescue mission for a lowly maintenance bot." Just another way of putting Prime's mechs in their place.

Optimus sighed. Why had he allowed Bumblebee to go by himself? He had the mentality of a four year old; easily distracted, and unable to think. He should have sent someone like Prowl, but for some reason, the ninjabot had been feeling more and more secluded and isolated from the mechs that he stayed with. Whenever Prime asked about how he was feeling, Prowl merely replied something about an anniversary...whatever that meant.

As far as Prime knew, Prowl had had no lovers in the past, or was particularly close to his family for him to suffer from nostalgia. He had thought to ask Jazz, but Sentinel had intercepted the comm. before Prime could do anything, and with a firm firewall and Trojan virus prevented any kind of conversation between the two mechs.

"Any news?"

Optimus whipped around, caught by the newcomer. He was so lost in his thoughts he didn't hear the approach of their team medic, Ratchet. Sighing, Optimus shook his helm, optics turning back to the screen.

"Nothing at all, Ratchet. As far as we're concerned, he's dropped off the map. I've sent both Prowl and Bulkhead to go check ou the mines and the area around them; but the Decepticon's aren't on Earth anymore...but just in case...do you think that they may have had something to do with it? His disappearance, I mean."

"Of course!" the old medic bellowed, surprising Prime. The usually quietly-cranky mech's outburst was a shock to the young Prime. Very little managed to get the older mech in such a state, usually revolving around that femme Autobot from the early stages of the war. Arcee. Even Bumblebee knew enough to keep the femme out of conversations and jokes in the base.

"The Decepticon's are the cause for this slagging war! They would stop at nothing to prove their point...even capturing the youth..." The older mech sighed before turning his back to the Prime. "Although maybe it's for the best..." he muttered, not expecting Prime to hear him.

"WHAT!? I know that Bumblebee can be annoying at times, but wishing him to stay with the Decepticons? HAVE YOU LOST YOUR CIRCUITS!?"
 
Ratchet turned and glared at the Prime, before his look softened unexpectedly. "Optimus...there is much you don't know..."

"Oh don't start with that, Ratchet. I know that I'm young, and inexperienced, but that is no reason for you to-"

"You don't understand!" the medic whisper-yelled. "You are too young for knowledge such as this, and if Magnus finds out, he will probably offline me, but you cannot always believe everything that you are told. Believe me."

Ratchet turned away again, only this time, he didn't look back. Optimus just stood there in confusion.