When Megatron and Tweety entered the doors to headquarters, only one word could succinctly sum up what was going on: chaos.

"Megatron," a single femme led the dozen or so nameless aids and clerks that suddenly appeared at his elbow, following him as he strode towards the main conference room, "there's reports on your desk for the collection process, and-"

"I will need some signatures on the newest tax amendments," beckoned another.

And still more, "Lord Megatron, I've got a few questions on how we want to handle the dragon, including-"

"My liege," and Megatron halted, pivoting to see Soundwave approaching through the throng. The mech had Lazerbeak on one shoulder and Darren on the other, the human tapping away on a datapad. "The conference room is at max capacity. What should we do with overflow?"

Megatron's brows rose, and fell, and an optic twitched. He slowly turned back to his course, and the throng followed him like they were an extension of him. "Open the doors to the back courtyard. They can filter out there."

His hand clenched around Tweety and she almost yelped for fear of his talons impaling her. "I don't know why we're even holding this conference. Yes, the dragon talks. Yes, it's being given an abandoned building on the outskirts in the south sector. We should just announce that and be done with it."

"The appearance of a prehistoric cyber animal, and the revelation of it's sentience, is cause for informing the masses, my lord." Soundwave's hand curled around Darren, bringing him into his palm and looking over his shoulder at his work. "We've been fielding messages from various departments since yesterday. If not handled, this could become… volatile.."

Megatron growled. "I'll show them volatile. The last thing I need to deal with when trying to reason with a behemoth that could raze half my city in an instant is questioning from nobodies from the lower levels of government. The message we need to get across is that we are Decepticons, and we don't need…"

Tweety had heard it a thousand times, so she began to zone out, taking in the bustle around them as they made their way around the curving hallway surrounding the inner chambers. There were new additions being made: Shockwave's artifacts and valuables were being added to the interior decor of headquarter's grandeur. Mechs stood on highlifts and ladders placing the aquisitions in their alcoves; power cores from Quintesson technology, deactivated Insecticon-inspired drones, the Matrix-

Her heart stopped. The spindly servos of one of them adjusted the gold and gunmetal grey emblem up onto a pedestal, the usual blue light emanating from it long dead. A stabbing pain started in her temples.

No, no, no. This can't be happening. How-

And how did she even know that was the Matrix? How-

"Tweety? Are you alright?"

Tweety, come with me. We need to talk.

"Tweety. Tweety!" The world was going dark, and her body became featherlight, without sensation.

I have much to tell you.

She was sitting in his palm, looking up, basking in Nevada warmth and morning desert air. His face was serious. But his face was always serious, so she never knew quite what she was dealing with. Besides the Prime, of course.

"Tweety," his bass rumbled above her, and she canted her head to the side to meet his optics. He was staring out at the sun, same as her, but his eyes seemed fixed on something… not here.

"There's something we need to talk about. Something… about the Matrix."

Her brows pinched. "Why would I ever need to know about- I mean-"

"The Matrix has made some decisions about what will happen when- if- the Decepticon's manage to get the upper hand for any period of time."

Tweety blinked. "Optimus, the Decepticons already have the upper hand."

He frowned at her, blue optics so bright they hurt to look at. "Tweety-"

"Tweety!"

She jolted awake. Her world was filled with red — Megatron's optics bathed her field of vision with crimson, flared and close as they were.

"Tweety! Wake up!"

She groaned, rolling over in his palm onto her side. She braced herself on an elbow and started to move. Her ears rang, and the headache that had started had peaked.

"We need to get her to the infirmary." It was hard for Megatron's voice to be anything other than a barely-restrained roar, but something in it sounded slightly panicked. And underneath that, Tweety knew he was concerned.

"I'm fine," she spat, pushing herself upright. The lights — God, the lights… She wobbled on both hands, her eyes firmly shut. "I'm fine."

"Soundwave, I'm not doing the conference. Tell Starscream he will be-"

"I'm fine!" She opened her eyes, blinking furiously and looking up at him. "I"m fine. You're not getting out of this."

Megatron's glare was seething. "You are not fine, you just-"

"I didn't eat breakfast." She put a hand to her stomach for emphasis, hoping to fake a gurgle or growl that Megatron might think he heard. "I'm fine. Get me to your office, or in the pen… get me some food, and I'm fine."

The group was still huddled around Megatron, including the three laymen. All watched with wide optics as Megatron intently held Tweety's glare, unreadable. He finally ex-vented a soft snort.

"You," he turned to a femme, "take her to my office upstairs. Tell Knockout he's to bring her a meal, now."

She nodded. "Of course, Lord Megatron."

Tweety's world tipped yet again as Megatron slid her as gently as possible into the femme's cupped servos. Every movement was nauseating, her head felt like a lead weight.

She didn't bother to look at Megatron as the femme turned briskly and walked further down the hall. On a strong urge, she snuck a glance back at the Matrix sitting quietly at it's station in the alcoves.

She gulped, a pang in her chest, a pull, making her stomach twist and the headache reach a crescendo.

Tweety.

She stared at the ceiling up above command, her whole body taught like a strung bow, ready to fire.

Tweety.

She flinched, shutting her eyes. The headache panged with each… incantation. Message. Summon. She felt herself panicking again, and she took steady, deep breaths to calm herself. It will be okay. This is nothing. The Matrix is just… doing something. She groaned, her hands on her face, and rolled over in the blankets. The light was becoming too much.

Around her, the other humans chattered and played. She heard Trystan trying to teach someone how to play his guitar. Probably Poppy.

The headache throbbed again, a steady cycle lasting a few minutes, like birth pangs. She barely heard anything else anymore. The noise from the badly-played chords would have irked her any other day, but not now.

She shut her eyes tighter if possible. Her chest started to get tight again, her lungs unable to breathe. She shoved the rising terror down, trying to file it someplace in her bones where it wouldn't hurt her. Maybe she could do the same with the headache. Maybe she could do the same with the Matrix.

How do I even know what the Matrix looks like? Why do I think that thing is… it? She was no Cybertronian artifact expert. But the moment she laid eyes on it… her mind had instinctively known. And the vivid memory of the red and blue mech had only made things more complicated.

She didn't want to admit it, but there was no denying it: she had known Optimus Prime before the Decepticon takeover. How, she wasn't even sure. But the Matrix had… reached out. It had connected with her, somehow, giving her a memory that was so strange she wouldn't believe it was her's if it hadn't felt so real. All while she ate in Megatron's office and Knockout gave her a physical, she had turned the events in the corridor over in her mind. Even after she was deposited here, she could not stop obsessing over it. She tried every way to make the event seem minor, or perhaps explain it away with some trivial physical issue like she had with Megatron, but she could not refute the logic.

Megatron's suspicions had been right all those months ago. She had association with the Autobots, one way or another.

She didn't understand some things: how could she have ever known Optimus Prime, or any Autobots, for that matter, if he had been killed vorns, hundreds of years ago? Their lifetimes had not overlapped. It was not possible. And why, if she had close association with the Autobots, had that mech in Shockwave's lab not given her some indication beyond his vague urgency for her to escape with her life? She had not had the chance — much less the desire to contemplate that conversation — since her rescue and Megatron's brutal interrogation. What the Autobot said had been beyond confusing. She had been so terrified, she had to strain to remember his words.

"You're important, Tweety."

What was that supposed to mean? How… how could she have been involved in any Autobot scheme?

She pulled the covers up and rolled onto her side. Perhaps sleep would make this all seem much, much smaller.

"Hey! You!"

Tweety stiffened, clutching the blankets harder. What now? She rolled over, looking around bleary-eyed before finding the source of the noise. A woman, perhaps a few years older than her, tromped over with a kick in her step. Her hair was fine, blonde, and braided back into cornrows on one side of her head. She seemed… familiar.

"Hey, yeah, you're Megatron's kid," she smiled, gesturing down at Tweety when she came to stand over her. "You nappin'?"

Tweety blinked a few times. "Yes."

Her smile went wider. "Oh! Well, sorry to bother you, but I got orders from big boy to come sit with you for awhile… just until he knew it was safe to socialize with the rest of them."

Tweety had not moved or budged an inch, but the woman plopped down next to her on the blankets, settling in until she was comfortable. Tweety eyed her, and when she noticed, she simply beamed back.

"Do I… know you?" Tweety's brows pinched, her voice rising on the last word.

The woman blinked, dumbfounded, until she suddenly smiled and laughed. "Oh! That's right! We've never met, have we? You see, I've seen you so many times from a distance, and you're such hot shit around all Iacon… and Shockwave talked about you so much… it's just like I already know you."

Tweety's mind turned. Shockwave. Megatron's kid… big boy…

"You're Connie, aren't you?"

"Yup." She flashed teeth, beaming. "One and the same. Is Megatron around?"

Tweety shook her head. "No."

"Well, damn, I was gonna yank his chain some more." Her grin turned sly. "I don't suppose you have any experience on what gets under his armor, do ya?"

The longer they spoke the more Tweety felt her expression morphing, brows pinching, eyes going wide. "… I-I don't-"

And then Connie was laughing, nudging Tweety in the side. "Nah-haha, kid, just kidding you!"

Tweety looked down where she had ribbed her and back up at Connie as if the touch had burned her. What's this woman's deal?…

With a content sigh, Connie leaned back on her elbows, staring around at the room. Seeming to grow bored, she looked back at Tweety, giving her an appraising sort of once-over. "So, how'd they catch you? You don't look to be the type that'd end up… eh, y'know, doing something stupid. To get caught. So how'd you do it?"

Tweety blinked a few times. She wanted to hear the story, the story? She felt her stomach beginning to clench in tandem with her fists clutching the sheets. It was a long time ago now, but her body still reacted like it was fresh. She wasn't really ready to tell that story. Not yet, and not to this woman, of all people.

"It's… complicated." She muttered, head falling and eyes on her own lap.

She wasn't sure what she expected out of Connie at that, but the woman grabbing her hand took her by surprise. Tweety looked up into intense blue eyes. Connie gave her a half-smile.

"I get it, kid. It was wrong of me to ask." She huffed, shaking her head and looking back to the humans in the pen. "I'm sure they've treated you the same. Like a freakshow. You sure as hell don't need it from me."

Then, the sobriety of the mood vanished with the return of her grin. "You want to hear mine?"

Tweety didn't get a chance to answer, for the woman was suddenly burrowing down in her blankets right next to her. She felt the ticklish feeling of Connie's leg hair brushing against her own, but before she could protest, she had them both trapped underneath the blankets. Her breath was warm against Tweety's face. Only those bright eyes were visible in the dark, and pockets of hazy light where the blanket's threads ran thin, like fuzzy stars.

"Don't you dare dutch oven me," she spat, wriggling a bit more to move herself down further. "Alright, well, before we get started, I've got to tell you — this isn't a pretty story. And it's not long. Or interesting. I was mostly just trying to find an excuse to get under the covers."

Tweety's brows lowered even further over her eyes, and Connie laughed. She launched into stories of badland horrors and heroics, giving her an extensive list of her relatives and a detailed recounting of the large, sprawling caravan they had formed. And Tweety could tell this was not going to be the short story she had advertised.

"You see, we were like families used to be," she moaned, hands arching in a sweeping gesture, "before the Cybertronians came in and broke our units apart. We were organized, efficient, and a broken arm or a sprained ankle meant little when you had all the others to take care of you. We probably would have been rulers if there was anything to rule."

"But why struggle out in the wilderness for so long when you could have had food and shelter in captivity?" The words were out of Tweety's mouth before she could stop them, and she watched Cornrows' face fall. Tweety's face flushed, and some deeper cognitive process started taking over as her heartbeat quickened. "I mean, there was nothing to rule, right? There's nothing to see or eat or anything and you're just out there suffering and for what, exactly? I mean… well, you know…"

"I guess it's the principle of the thing." Connie's voice had gone low, deflated of the luster and excitement it had. She looked at Tweety a bit differently now, like she had grown a second head. "I'd rather die owning myself than allowing someone else to control me… allowing someone else to own me."

Tweety felt her throat dip into her stomach. What could she say to that? And then she felt a very surreal thing happening to her as the other woman watched her; Connie's face and voice and ideas were her's, but from so many months ago. How long had it been since she was captured? How long- when-

"But I get what you mean," and the smile was back, Connie's face bright and distracting but her eyes just a bit too knowing, "why even try when there's all this nice stuff here? I mean, like this…" She burrowed under the blanket, letting out a theatrical sigh. "Do you know what I would have had to trade to get a blanket like this out there? If I was even lucky enough to ever find one! Wow…"

And her antics continued, and Tweety couldn't help herself but laugh. The stories continued as well, long into the afternoon. Eventually Tweety opened up herself, and shared her traumatic events leading up to her capture. She realized then that the woman would do nothing to harm her intentionally; Connie was nothing but sympathetic and supportive, allowing her to talk about the procedure at the slavers hand openly for the first time.

"They… they did it without any anesthetics, the tools weren't even sterile, I-"

"And you were tied down? Drugged?"

"I was so hysterical… I don't even remember. Definitely restrained. But they had hit me over the head on the way in and I was pretty sure I had a concussion. And honestly… the thing that always bothered me was why they even did it. Why go through the trouble?"

Connie sighed, readjusting her position on the pallet and leaning forward. "I've heard… I've heard they use the girls they do it to as prostitutes. I remember we went by some outposts near the West Coast, farthest from the border patrols near Canada, and I noticed some brothels. I don't doubt all the women and men there were being held captive."

Tweety rubbed her arms. "It's honestly not the worst thing I ever went through in the badlands, but… it was up there."

"I'm sure no one here ever really understands, even your Megatron." Connie glanced towards the titans working a distance away, and leaned in. "Especially your Megatron. You can always talk to me, y'know. Even about the worst thing."

Tweety could see it now: Cornrows loaded with the knowledge of the worst thing she ever went through and having to carry that silently. That would go over well. Tweety had woke up in a metal world with no knowledge of who she was or what had happened to the world she knew. She tried to imagine Connie sitting quietly on the knowledge her new friend had gingerly popped out of a time capsule into the badlands and didn't see it happening. Some things just need to be kept to yourself. She thought grimly.

"Yeah… thanks. He can be… yeah." She looked behind her to glance at the silver mech. He was sitting at the head of the command deck, head supported by his fist as he watched Starscream ream Knockout and the Constructicons for a likely slight offense.

And then Connie's brows lowered, a smirk appearing. "But… I know about it. About you two. I don't really know who doesn't know, honestly, with how openly he defended you at the auction."

"What?" Her dreads flung back against her chest as she whipped around to look at Connie. "I'm not- we're- no! We're not a thing. Not in a million years."

"So quick to defend." She scooted closer, her pale hand resting on her knee. "You don't have to be so vocal about it, you know. Now we're getting looks."

And they were in fact getting looks. Tweety met the stares leveled at her and glared right back, having to hold back from baring her teeth in a threat. They quickly forgot them in her barely contained animosity.

Connie laughed heartily, holding her stomach with her hand. "Wow. Okay. I know not to tease you about your boyfriend now. You might end up murdering someone."

Tweety squinted and cocked her head. "Why do you think it's so funny, anyways? With you and Predaking involved?"

Connie's face screwed up. "Who said we were involved?" She pushed her braids back over her shoulder, eyes averted. "We aren't like that at all. Predaking and I are close out of necessity for survival. You don't know what it was like."

"Ha!" Tweety pointed, body lurching forward. "See! You don't like someone making something out of nothing either! I mean, especially when it's such a… strange idea. Who would ever ship pets with their masters? We're slaves, I mean - we're slaves. Doesn't that mean something? Like we're being forced into this whole situation?"

Cornrows pursed her lips. "Yeah. I see what you mean. But that doesn't mean we can't acknowledge chemistry when it's actually there."

Tweety quirked a brow. "I'm… no. No, that's not okay."

"You just don't want to admit your feelings. You're not ready. It's okay, kid."

"Well then what about you and Predaking?"

Connie replaced her smirk with a frown. "What about me and Predaking?"

"You're certainly devoted to one another," Tweety's eyes looked up in thought, "and you've certainly got a dynamic. You're probably blaring rock as you enter the room and he's just your willing ride."

She laughed. "Yeah, I guess, when you look at it that way. But we most certainly are platonic — I couldn't imagine-" and she snorted, covering her mouth with a hand. Tweety couldn't help but join in and soon they were wheezing with tears in their eyes.

Connie leaned over once they regained their breath. "But really — you should know how he first met me. I was buck naked, I had just finished with processing when Shockwave ordered a new batch for their subjects and then I was shuffled into his processing." Her eyes moved to the distance and went wide, her hands clutching the blanket tight. "I didn't have clothes for a month afterwards and had all these sores from laying on the floor and- and Predaking, in dragon form, just came over and peered in my cage.

"He was about as terrifying as you'd expect. Eyes focused on me, poised, the smell of jet fuel and ash hanging all around him… and then he just curled up around my cage and went to sleep. Shockwave was furious when he came back, he wasn't supposed to be out of his cage. I thought he was going to kill him but eventually he wandered back to his housing." Her face drew down, going slack. "He has a built-in shock collar — I guess that's what you'd call it — and he never gave Shockwave any problems. Never. I only saw him use it once and I understand why. He was out for a good ten minutes."

Tweety leaned in, "How did you find out he was a mech too?"

"Well… I got to talking to him. At night, y'know. When I couldn't sleep. One day I was just asking questions and petting him through the bars and suddenly he was standing up and transforming." She laughed, "I've never been so mad in my life."

Tweety giggled too. "You thought he was just a big dog."

"A big dog! Yeah!" Connie slapped her thigh, and then held her belly as she tipped her head back with a guffaw. "Yeah! He still is just a big dog!"

When they settled again, a companionable silence stretched. Tweety's eyes flicked up, her head bowed. "What did… Shockwave do to you?"

Connie's attention was startling, compared to their last minutes of happiness, and when she simply stared Tweety felt the words coming unbidden again. "How did he experiment on you? What- what did he do?"

Cornrows blinked, eyes drifting down. Without meeting her gaze, her lips turned up into a sad smile. "I think that's a story for another time, kid."

Tweety swallowed thickly. "I didn't mean-"

"No, don't. You didn't, and I know that. We're all… curious. I did it to you too. But you've had a lot more time between you and the badlands, and Shockwave just died." She shook her head, the braids shifting on her shoulder. "It'll take a lot more time for me to process… that."

Tweety exhaled a breath she had been holding. Connie looked up, giving her a once over, and then her sad smile turned mischievous.

"Now, tell me… who's the poshest pet?"

Megatron's chest was warm. Her back singed above it, her head cradled on the lip of the divot holding his insignia. Both hands clasped The Martian while he held up his own datapad and reviewed reports.

"What do you think about Predaking?" She flipped a page and twitched her foot rhythmically. She knew he was staring at the back of her head; it was in his voice, too.

"What do you mean 'what do you think about Predaking?' He's a convert to the Decepticon cause, to the revival of Cybertron. Now, he's a low-level soldier. What is there to think about?"

Her lips pursed. "You're not worried about him following after Shockwave's footsteps, being his…"creation?" Isn't that what you call kids?"

The chest beneath her huffed, and she smiled.

"Shockwave's tendencies were genocidal and irrational. That Predaking would follow after him is plausible, but not of immediate concern."

She quirked a brow. "So Shockwave was committing genocide, was he now?" She cringed a bit at herself after it left her mouth; her comeback was awkward and falling flat, and she knew he knew it.

But, he still played along. Another rise and fall from his chest, and she knew the theatrics were for her benefit. He was trying to use his size to intimidate. "Try harder. I'm not bothering with your games tonight."

"A game? I didn't know you thought conversation with me was challenging enough to be a game."

"You are not-"

He cut off, and after a beat of silence she propped herself on an elbow and turned to look back at him. His optics, unfocused, darted about. He grumbled something under his breath and then stood.

"I am needed. You will stay here-"

"What's going on? Does it have to do with the-"

"Do not interrupt me, pet." His optics simmered. "You will stay here."

She squinted her eyes to mirror his. "What's going on?"

A servo came and cupped around her back as he sat up on the berth, depositing her on the bed and placing a soft blanket at her feet. He rolled his shoulders, and then turned to leave. "I will be back soon."

"Who's bothering you?" She clutched the blanket then wrapped it around her shoulders, the chill in Darkmount now reaching her without his body heat.

He looked over his shoulder and gave her a sideways glance. "Your Autobot friend."

Her face blanched. "Let me go with you!"

He was several steps out the door, but with a snarl he marched back to the bed. "Why? Why would I bother?"

She hesitated, the grip on the blanket winding tighter. "To… show my loyalty to you."

I can be useful, her face communicated, eyebrows high and eyes wide and hopeful.

He barked a laugh. "And what would you do for me?"

I still don't trust you oryour groveling. And, it's dangerous. His optics squinted, hard.

"… Please." I can make it up to you.

He turned to leave. "Stay. And be good." Don't bother.

"Please!" Let me try!

He paused at the door for a long moment, the indecision hanging over Tweety like a guillotine. Then, he turned, coming back to scoop her and the blanket up together and marched out the door. She was still in her pajamas, but she didn't care. She grabbed a thumb and steeled herself.

She looked up into his eyes, and he gave her a glance. He didn't need words. I'm watching you.

The halls were almost too small for a mech of Megatron's height. Tweety held onto his shoulder chevron so tightly her knuckles became a light cream as he ducked to enter the interrogation room.

Soundwave stood in the corner, recording, and Starscream was breastplate to breastplate with the Autobot. His talon-tipped servos were dripping a puddle of Energon onto the floor. Tweety couldn't make herself look at the mech chained to the ceiling until Megatron grunted at her, motioning with his head at his second and the prisoner.

The Autobot's faded paint was in even worse condition than she had remembered: his armor was cut open in jagged slashes, and energon stained the corner of his mouth. One door panel had already been mutilated, the underside's protoform peeled back and his wiring exposed. The opposite servo had been treated too. Energon flowed freely down his arm and she couldn't see the intricate details of the servo for all the liquid. For all her gaping, he didn't seem to see her there. She felt her stomach beginning to clench and her mouth water from the back of her throat forward.

For all her terror, Megatron smiled. "So, where are we, Starscream?"

"Smokescreen here was just about to tell me the location of the remaining Autobots." He smiled, head tipping forward, his denta gleaming in the ray of the bright light above Smokescreen.

"Last known, Screamer. It's been years since I've seen them." Smokescreen's head lolled from one side to the other, his words mumbled. When she caught sight of his optics, they were empty, dull.

They brightened to a hot white when Starscream stuck his talons into his side.

"Starscream," Megatron's growl was so intense it reverberated over Smokescreen's scream, "we still have much to gleam from the slave."

"Not…a…slave!" Smokescreen groaned with the effort of lifting his shackled pedes, trying to strike his interrogator. The seeker merely snapped at them with an energon prod Tweety had somehow missed lying in his hand, and the Autobot was silent except for the rattle of his chains and too-big armor around his malnourished protoform as he convulsed.

"Silence!" Starscream screeched. "Enough of the theatrics. You gave us enough of that chasing you all around Iacon. Tell us where Ratchet and his rag-tag group of bandits lie, or I will let my squadron have their way with you." He leaned in close to the Autobot, head tilted and smirking. "They have much worse in store than I could ever dream of because of all that difficulty you gave them."

Smokescreen smiled. "I'm a fine piece of chassis, aren't I?"

Starscream raised his prod again but Megatron beat him to the punch: the warlord stepped into his right hook as he swung, and Tweety heard the straining crack of Smokescreen's spinal column and the crunch of his faceplates as his head twisted back over his shoulder. She stuffed her gasp back in her mouth before it could get out.

She felt heat rising up beneath her, Megatron's frame growing hot with his fury. "Funny, Autobot. You're right, I'm half the mind to take you back to my quarters."

Her head whipped towards her master far faster than she could stop it. He would?

Smokescreen's head somehow realigned itself back upright. His lip plates were pulled back on the left side of his face, making his words even more strained and muffled. "Oh, Megatron. That's flattering. I'll have to… decline."

Megatron took a step forward and grinned. "It's not like you'd have much choice anyways. I'm going to carve you into an ornament to hang above the entrance to Decepticon headquarters once were done here." His sword unsheathed and rose to eye level, rested against his bare door wing. "Tell me where Ratchet is."

"Not- aargh!" The blade cut down on him in a minor slice. Energon trickled a few feet down the high shine.

"Where is he?" Tweety felt Megatron shift into it, and Smokescreen's eyes rolled into the back of his head.

The Autobot panted. "Not… telling you."

"Where is he?" Another inch.

Silence.

"Where?!"

"Stop!"

Tweety felt it fly from her mouth before she could stop it. Megatron looked at her, aghast in a way, but not quite sure what to do about it. Smokescreen's face was contorted with pain but looked blank otherwise.

She looked up at her master, thinking faster than she could catch. "Please, I- you- you don't have to do this…"

She saw the blankness in his eyes, but she couldn't stop herself from digging her hole deeper. "We need him, we can use a cortical physic patch-"

"Useless." Starscream spat, coming out of the darkness and back into the room's attention. Tweety felt herself grow smaller with his every word. "She's useless, Megatron, completely and totally-"

"I can handle my own, Starscream." Megatron's eyes never wavered from their lock on her, and his armor slowly rose to even greater heights. His optics cycled down to pinpricks and she felt herself growing smaller too.

"Hey Megs," Smokescreen's voice was high and tight, barely above a whisper. "I'm ready, I'll talk. I'll talk."

The attention wasn't on her anymore. She was looking at Smokescreen with the rest when the prisoner took a breath, and then sighed.

"Ratchet's on Earth."

Megatron leaned in, quirking an optic ridge. "Where?"

Smokescreen let a beat or two pass, and then he smiled. "He's having lunch with Elvis."

A loud clang echoed through the chamber when Megatron hit him again, and then a hiss of static and rattling armor when Starscream shocked him afterwards. Tweety felt herself about to vomit, watching his body whine and writhe beneath the shock of the energon prod.

But before she could try anything else, Megatron was stepping away from the action. "Keep on him, Starscream."

His optics settled back on her, dark promise in them.

"I have other matters to settle."

Once the doors to the living quarters shut behind them, Tweety couldn't contain it anymore.

"I just didn't want you to-"

"Silence!"

She was plucked off his shoulder with none of the care he had learned to have with her. Air whipped her dreads back behind her as she landed unceremoniously onto the couch.

"You undermine me time and again. You protect my enemies and make my servants question my authority."

He knelt to get closer, leaning into her space. There was only feet between their faces.

"Tell me why I shouldn't deactivate you. Give me a good reason why."

"I'm amusing." The fear had somehow vanished, and in its place there was venom in her voice. "I give you good ideas. How many times have I saved your ass in front of your officers? Remember when Starscream was going on about the Earth import tariffs and I came back with research that proved his theory-"

"Darren was responsible for that instance!" He snarled, shoving the pointed tip of his digit in her chest, startling her backwards. "And don't start with me. We're not going over every small aid you've given me. You know exactly what this is about."

She simmered. "The Autobot was useful and you couldn't just kill h-"

He roared, an animalistic sound without word or meaning besides his building rage. "I know what I was doing! I was testing you!"

"And how did I do?" She crossed her arms, cocking her hip as a display.

He leaned in close again, digits leaving dents in the cushions where he gripped it. "Don't take that tone with me. You are one small step away from being flushed, as you humans put it. Or better yet, given to Starscream as a gift."

She laughed. "Would you really, though? I'd be an admission you couldn't handle me."

He smirked. "You overestimate your importance. And you underestimate my intelligence, which is an insult. I would never allow a possession to have such power."

Her face started slacking, drained of her vehemence. She let several beats pass. "Why are you even angry?"

"Because you are lying," he got closer, "and have always been lying. That Autobot means something to you, and unless you're willing to confess to your involvement with him, there will be consequences."

A digit tipped her chin up from where she had dipped it to the floor. "You are close to rock bottom, pet. My men see it, and I see it too. I cannot allow traitors to remain in my domain or the Decepticons will see me as weak, and it is only a matter of time before Starscream rallies a coup."

She shivered. "I don't know him, Megatron, I don't know anything."

He frowned. "That is sad. It means I will have to find a replacement for you."

"No, I- … you don't understand."

"Then enlighten me."

She chewed on her lip. "I can't tell you anything, Megatron."

"Can't, or won't?" He sighed, "You've already disappointed me once today. Don't disappoint me again."

She opened her mouth to retort, but his face stopped her. He was calmer than he had ever been when confronting her, now, and something about that scared her. It was the calm before the storm, she knew. Her pulse had been rising steadily through the confrontation, but now her heart felt like it was lodged in her throat. Sweat beaded on her brow. She felt like a sinner caught in the act.

He's going to kill me if I don't give him something. He means it now.

"Smokescreen recognized me."

He cocked his head, his face not betraying anything. "Recognized you?"

She nodded. "Yes. He… he knew my name. He knew who I was."

The air grew cold. "Why did he know who you were?"

"I don't know. He never told me."

"What did he tell you?"

She paused. "He told me- he told me nothing," she took a shaky breath, "… and he didn't say why. I guess I'm not supposed to know."

His optics began to slowly dilate wider as the astroseconds were ticked out by the clock to the far wall. She had never noticed it before now, but the sound was growing frantic in her ears. It felt like the tempo to her death march.

He rose from the couch, gaze no longer attached to her but on the far wall. Once standing, he took several baited invents and exvents before he spoke again.

"You need to spend the night in the brig."

Her heart leapt into her throat. "What?"

"You need to stay the night in the brig. It is the only way they will believe me."

"Megatron, you're not-"

She let out a strangled yelp as she was scooped up hurriedly. He was turning before she could say another word. She landed on her side in his palm. She looked over her shoulder up at him, brow furrowed.

"Megatron?"

He didn't reply.

"Megatron?"

"Don't speak to me, pet."

The walk back to headquarters was long and silent, like many of the walks after their arguments. Tweety's throat felt like she had a python wrapped around it, and her eyes stung. She felt a sob rising up every few moments. Megatron didn't seem to be affected by the ordeal. His stoney face felt like a knife to the heart whenever she glanced at him. His eyes were facing forward, not willing to look at her. He put one pede in front of the other and paid his charge no mind.

He took a turn deeper into the complex once they were inside headquarters, away from the main offices and the war room. She had never been here before, and this was not where Smokescreen had been held for interrogation just hours earlier. The ceilings grew lower and the spaces more cramped, and the lighting was dim this late at night. Megatron amped up his bio lights after the darkness became so encroaching it was hard to see.

Her body jerked forward at a sudden stop, hands flexing on the gaps in his protometal to keep her balance. She looked up, and for what felt like the thousandth time she asked, "What are you doing, Megatron?"

He didn't answer, and she wasn't sure she even expected him to. He continued his march after punching in codes, passing by empty cells degraded by disuse and time. She was waiting for the right moment to say something, do anything to understand more, but she realized she already knew everything she needed to know. She just wanted things to be different. Why did I think he would help me?

What have I done?

They stopped after a long walk. She looked at the empty cell in front of her and then up at him. "What- what are you doing?"

At a ping from him, the door opened and he entered. She slid off his palm onto the floor and he turned immediately and locked the door from the outside.

"Megatron, you can't-"

"I will return for you in the morning."

His optics were ice-like, brittle, hard, and cold all at once. He looked like he might break at any moment, too.

She watched his back as he left, and after his pedesteps receded and it was quiet for a minute or more, she allowed herself to cry.

She spent hours in anxious worry, trying to puzzle through her mistakes, and she knew it was early morning by the time she found herself any sort of calm. It was impossible to tell the time, however. The darkness swallowed her and her senses without Megatron's aid. The ache in her chest only grew in intensity, like there was a fist around her heart and shackles caging her lungs. What would Megatron do with her? Would he kill her? Was this it? He had been indecipherable to her, so the possible outcomes of this episode of estrangement took her brain in dozens of directions. She grew tired. She eventually fell into a fitful sleep, drifting between the waking world and her dreams of Megatron's wrath many times throughout the night.

It was morning when it happened. She was awakened by a strange sensation, but not unfamiliar.

Tweety.

"Damnit." She muttered, rolling over again on the damp, hard floor and wrapping her arms around herself again for warmth.

Tweety.

"Go away," she spat into the dark, eyes still screwed tight. "It's because of you all this is happening."

Tweety,

Awake.

Her entire body felt like it had been pushed into a vacuum, the air sucked out of her lungs and her hair standing on end. She sat up immediately, getting into a fighting stance and looking around frantically.

"Where are you? What did you just do?" Several beats passed. "Hey! Answer me!"

There was a click, and she looked around the room, searching for the source. Through the dim, she caught sight of the crack in the cell door. The lock had disengaged. It was open.

She padded the dozen yards to it and peeked her head out, squinting at the blackness. Not a soul was in the corridor nor did steps resound down the hallways.

Tweety, come.

She put a foot back to brace herself, the sudden breathlessness coming over her again. The Matrix's voice was changing, becoming more intense. It was as if it was speaking into someplace deeper than her own thoughts, her own mind, into something that was her very being. She stepped out of the cell and started her way down the hall, following the force.

It was like a homing beacon, it's pangs getting stronger and stronger the further she moved. It led her out of the old cells, back to Command. The walk lasted an hour or so, between her peeking around corners and taking the long way around. She did so because she knew she wasn't supposed to be out. She knew if someone caught her, she could be killed.

She didn't want to think about what would happen if Megatron was the one to find her.

She was led back to the spot she had fainted that morning, where the Matrix had first spoken to her. The halls were different at this time of night; nothing of the usual hustle and bustle of Command. It was quiet, so quiet she could hear the thrum of the brightly lit and very active Matrix. It was obviously not as dead as she once thought.

Tweety. The time has come.

She squinted up at the relic, irritation in her voice. "What do you mean 'the time has come?'"

A pulse, again, deep in a place not her body nor her mind. The pain from that morning started in her head again. We will show you.

She fell to the floor, her body going numb and the world going dark much faster this time.

There is much to tell you.

She woke in a different place this time. She wasn't in the desert nor was she in the world. She was elsewhere, something in her and around her and in and around the Matrix as well.

You are summoned here for a great purpose. You will take us, the Matrix, to the one called Smokescreen to make him the next Prime.

She reeled. It was like waking up after a heavy faint, and she thought she might have been vomiting in her real body. She didn't even know if she was in her mindscape or if she could move, but the sky above looked like it. It was like a violent sea, blues and blacks and oranges and reds flickering on her vision. The Matrix didn't seem to have issues with it like Megatron had.

Be still. You are safe.

At that, her panic was gone. The pressure in the other of her smothered her like a heavy blanket. The bad weather dissipated, leaving the sky blue. Dark whirls feathered around the edges of her vision. And then, she realized she did have a body. This was her mind, like in the cortical psychic patch.

She sat up, noting her arms and legs, taking stock of every digit of her hands and toes. She stood, looking into the sky again and away from the confusing expanse of the landscape.

"Why am I here? What are you talking about, the new Prime?"

The pressure on her chest intensified, and at once she saw Smokescreen in a cell, hanging from his chains. Purpose filled her; a wave of intent, demand for action.

The new Prime is needed now, before Unicron's chaos causes irreconcilable damage. Deliver the Matrix to him so he may eliminate the darkness.

"He's going to be Prime?!" She cried, spinning in a circle. She couldn't find the face of the voice, and it was hard to talk to something that wasn't corporeal. "Why him?"

The Matrix chooses whom it wishes. The day of destruction is imminent. You must act now to prevent the death of Cybetron.

"The death of Cybetron? What's wrong with Cybertron?"

Deliver the message. You will stop the darkness.

"… What's the darkness?"

The one who took Megatronus' name, the very one who injected himself with the blood of the chaos bringer.

Her jaw hung open. "You're going to kill Megatron?"

The Prime will bring an end to the darkness. You will be counted among the deliverers of your generation. This is your imperative.

The Matrix allowed a beat to pass. She felt herself growing smaller.

Megatron must perish for balance to be restored.

Her mouth went dry. "You want Smokescreen to kill Megatron? What about redemption, 'freedom is the right of all sentient beings,' all that crap? You're really just going to kill him?"

She thought she had felt the Matrix growing steadily more irritated with her, but now it was obvious: it's tone was edging on aggressive. The Warlord has been given many chances time and again, and refuses to renounce his master Unicron and his ways. The time is now to act before the end of Cybertron.

"But what's going to happen to Cybertron?" She stepped forward, and then made a circle, gesturing to the void. "What's going on?"

Primus will no longer wait for his children to correct their own mistakes. He will now destroy Cybertron to stop the Chaos Bringer from ravaging the entire universe. It has already infected the planet Earth, and Primus is all that is left that will act unless a new Prime is installed. It paused, and it felt like someone was putting a hand on her shoulder. She looked there, but there was nothing. The Autobots can fulfill the mission of Primus. They only need their anointed leader again.

The voice in the other got right up against her ear, something warm and comforting in her chest. You must act to destroy your captor now, before it is too late for not just you, but everyone connected to him. The entire planet will be lost if something is not done.

She felt her mouth go dry. "But Megatron, he's not-"

There is no argument to be made for his case. Nothing-

"No! Just wait a minute, I-" She stopped, hugging herself, turning more circles. "I can't do this. I can't just kill him. He's- I just can't. I can't let Smokescreen-"

You are being foolish. A new messenger must be chosen.

She looked up, brows furrowed, shocked.

We will find another-

"No! Wait, just wait!"

The Matrix went silent, and she paced. "When is Primus going to destroy Cybertron?"

At the start of the new vorn is when Cybertron's final stages of destruction will begin.

She counted on her fingers, her eyes widening. "Cybertron's New Years is less than six months away."

Silence after silence floated between her and the old Primes, until she looked up to the sky again. "I can do it. I can fix this before then. You just need to give me time!"

The Matrix's hum intensified, something she had not realized was here in her mindscape. It drew on for what might have been the longest moments of her life. Megatron's lifeless husk kept coming back into her mind; she wondered what it would look like, feel like to watch him be gone forever. To finally be rid of him.

I would miss him.

The Matrix seemed to reach a conclusion. We will wait six months for you. No more, no less. That is when we, the Primes of the past, and Primus will demand retribution for what has been done to the children of Primus.

The sky grew darker, a heady red and black. Understand, Tweety, that this binds your fate to Megatron's, and potentially dooms all of Cybertron to destruction if he will not renounce his loyalty to Unicron.When he refuses to change his ways and return to our Creator's path, you stand with him in his errors.You will be fated to termination as he is.

"I know." She gulped. "I know."

You have until the new vorn. Use your time wisely. The world started to get hazier, and her entire body felt funny. She realized it was waking her up.

"Wait! What about my past? You know something about that! You chose me, forever ago! Who am I?"

Until the new vorn, Tweety.

"Wait! You need to tell me-"

She awoke with a gasp, pulling herself upright from her prone position on the cold floor in the foyer. Her body trembled with the chill.

Her gaze went up the wall to see the Matrix still sitting high in it's alcove. The last bits of it's glow were fading away, and in seconds it was as quiet as it had been that morning.

"Six months," she whispered, sitting up and rubbing her arms to bring back warmth into them. "Until the new vorn."

Part of her wondered if it had all been a wild dream, but she knew it wasn't. The stakes were too high to doubt herself for long. She felt horror building in her gut, like a little man pulling on all her innards. The image of Megatron dead kept floating in her mind.

She turned back down the halls, shuffling back to her cell in the early morning hours. She watched the sunrise before she wandered back down into the prison, wondering what Megatron had in store for her this day and wondering why she had just stuck her neck out for him. The Matrix's warning still echoed in her head.

Understand, Tweety, that this binds your fate to Megatron's.

She felt the little man in her gut pull harder. She shut the door to her cell, and bent over to vomit.

Our lovely betas (drumroll please)…

AshasCadence (Fanfiction, DA, Tumblr)

Darkrider213 (DA, AO3, Tumblr)

A/N:

Hi guys! I usually don't say much in the notes anymore, as there's not much to update on besides I'm (obviously) a slow writer. But recently I realized that by order of favorites, this humble little story is at the top of the Meg x OC pairing tag here on , and it's steadily rising kudos on Ao3 are placing it on the front page for the pairing as well. It wasn't originally tagged that because I wasn't sure that's the direction it was going to go, so if anyone needs to get off I understand. But either way, I'm very honored by your continued readership and support, and please remember: reviews keep me going!

Thank you so much for reading! Reviews are always appreciated. :) Please follow my Tumblr thelionfart for more updates on this fic and my other works.