Title: Seekers
Continuity: G1-ish
Character(s): Bumblebee, Skywarp, Thundercracker, Ratchet
Rated: M
Warnings: torture/rape/slash/character death
Disclaimers: the usual. No OC, no owning it, just fooling around with Tr

Damaged

Skywarp

Skywarp was angry, horny and as consequence thoroughly frustrated – a mood that promised nothing good whatsoever to anyone around him. In this case it included his fellow Seekers too who were the ones mainly responsible for his mood that seemed blacker than his body. Starscream was his usual bitchy self, no surprise there and chewed out the black and purple jet for his admittedly not the best performance in the last battle; but he wouldn't have expected Thundercracker to back up the Air Commander and bark at him just as angrily. For Primus' sake they were lovers and TC has always taken his side when Starscream got this angry at him. Okay, his fury might have had something to do with the teleporter's bungle at covering his back which resulted in the blue Seeker being caught by one of those damned twins who made a painful mess of his back plating; Jet Judo be damned to the Pit. Still, Skywarp thought that it was too much of a punishment to be left behind alone to patrol the area while his trinemates hobbled back to Nemesis to be repaired. After all he was shot too, albeit not dangerously and the raid itself had interrupted some very pleasant activities in their quarters which still tingled in his circuits. He was very tempted to fly back to TC at once and make up for his mistake in the most pleasant way... but the thought of what Megatron would say – and do! – if he disobeyed orders stopped him and he kept him flying over the forested hillsides grumbling to himself. He hated to be left alone and it wasn't like the Autobots remained in the area anyway, so the whole patrol idea was just a punishment without any justification… hmm, wait a klik, was that blip an Autobot or just a sensory ghost?

Skywarp forgot his mood at once, as he was not one to hold onto anything for long and circled back to check the sensors again. Yes, there was an Autobot there, a grounder, moving slowly in the heavily forested area of some National Park or something as his maps informed him. He was tempted to just shoot a couple of missiles at him and leave it at that but curiosity won and he wanted to see which Autobot was able to move in such inhospitable surroundings; there were no roads, much less highways around that groundpounders could use. He landed as quietly as he could a bit further from the moving blip on a boulder at the side of a ravine and waited for it to come closer. When he appeared at the bend of the valley he saw a green Jeep of the Autobot scout, moving expertly in the uneven, broken up floor, among the thick underbrush. Skywarp had to admit, he was negotiating the abysmal ground with almost a grace – not something he would've ever thought to ever associate with a mere grounder. But he could admire the way the scout was at home in the forest, blending in nicely with his pleasant dark green and black colouring… Skywarp shook his head. What was it that made him stare at the Autobot and admire it instead of shooting him to the Pit? He got off the boulder with a short burst from his thrusters, landing in front of the Jeep and kicking it onto the side of the valley with the same momentum.

Hound

Hound got just a last nanoklik of warning from his sensors before a huge, winged menace appeared in front of him on the forest floor and he was flying – but only a short way before crashing into a tree and falling to the ground. He transformed as fast as he could but the Seeker was onto him before he could move, and from the violet light that preceded his movement the scout knew exactly which flier it was and how futile would it be to try to run for it. Not that any of them were any less vicious, he though wryly, trying to bring his rifle around and failing as Skywarp stepped on his arm almost lazily. The Seeker interestingly didn't look his usual vicious self, instead he was… almost like interested. Not that it stopped him from restraining him and with a casual movement crush his rifle and throw the broken piece of metal away into the forest's undergrowth. But even after that, the dark face above him peered at the scout prone underneath him with open curiosity, and even asked his designation. Hound was instinctly wary of him, although he answered civilly to the question; long association with Mirage taught him to be polite in every situation and he was not really a cursing kind to begin with either. Seekers were always a strange bunch, behaving erratically on whims and he wouldn't want to anger one if he wasn't in such mood to begin with. But the curious looks that the Seeker gave him slowly turned into something else; as he felt the clawed hands on his chassis, the eyes above him turned into… almost hungry, and Hound shivered. The dark body lowered on top of him and the green scout felt the claws finding the joints between his plates, first touching, then as they tore into him, firing up a mixture of pleasurable and painful sensations in his pinned body.

Bumblebee

In his dark cell, Bumblebee knew that he was loosing the battle for staying online. He was, quite simply a wreck by this time, running on the last of his reserves and barely even feeling his body any more. He supposed that it was an improvement over feeling the agony of the torture the Cons subjected him to in the orn since they captured him, and he knew that even if he was rescued at the very breem he might not survive. They wanted to know how he got into the ship last time and they wanted to know it fast; and so spared nothing that their twisted, cruel minds could make up to wring that information out of the small spy. Electro-whip, shock prod, beating, the tears of cruel claws everywhere, the flame of a blowtorch melting through the mangled remains of his armour and circuitry, and the worst of it the rapes… he didn't tell them what they wanted to know though, and by the end he was sure that he would take his knowledge into the Well – if nothing else because his vocalizer was torn out too at some point. Frankly, he would be glad to finally be able to sink into oblivion – he couldn't do that until they were still torturing him, but as his senses, his connections to the world were snapped one by one he felt the blackness coming closer and closer… until it finally engulfed him and the mangled remains of the blind, deaf, mute and thoroughly wrecked mech fell offline in the Nemesis' interrogation cell…

Prime

The Autobots might have won the battle and prevented the Cons from blowing the human power plant up, but it didn't make any of them happier when they noticed that Bumblebee was not with them at the end. After scouring the area and making sure that he was nowhere in or around the battlefield whether on-, or offline, they had to acknowledge that he was probably taken by the retreating Cons and they all knew what that entailed… Optimus Prime tried to contact Megatron to negotiate the scout's release but his communication attempt was not even acknowledged for a whole orn. The whole Ark was quieter than usual, all mechs going about their business in a subdued manner, as the yellow spy was liked by basically everyone and they all knew the implications of him being captured… it was fortunate – or so they thought then – that the Cons' energon raid was unsuccessful and so after a while Megatron was grudgingly accepting to exchange Bumblebee for fuel that they needed; and Prime agreed to the exchange, even though the warlord expressed clearly that the spy was not unharmed. They all understand what he wasn't saying outright; that the yellow mech was tortured and they were fortunate to have him back alive at all – but even so they wanted to get him home, if for nothing else but to have his body and know his fate…

Skywarp

Skywarp quickly forgot what he was supposed to do, which was to shoot the Autobot and move on with his patrol; he saw nothing wrong with playing a bit with the green mech before offlining him. After all, his usual morning interface-time with TC was quite rudely interrupted by Megatron, demanding them to be ready for the raid – and the way his blue trinemate acted before he left, Skywarp was uncomfortably sure that he wouldn't be willing to continue it even when he got back to the Nemesis. So, he had to amuse himself as he could, and the Autobot underneath him was as good as any… he wasn't thrashing at all, which made it even easier. Skywarp smirked to himself and got down to business; he liked to rev up even the prisoners before getting rough and tearing into them, enjoying the mixture of moans from pleasure with screams of pain. He played a bit with the green mech's wires, liking the understanding appear in his optics as he grasped what the Seeker was going to do with him, and tearing his interface panel off, he thrust himself roughly into the mech, eliciting a sudden yelp of pain. It was joined by others as he got rough, tearing and clawing him while continuing to ram into his valve, enjoying himself finally after a long and frustrating cycle. When he was on the brink of the overload, the Seeker tore into his chest plates too, forcing his spark-chamber open, uncovering his own spark too; he saw the terror in the scout's eyes as he understood that he was not only being violated in his body but his spark as well… Skywarp cackled madly as he brought his spark down on the helpless Jeep, still thrusting into him roughly, ready to plunge his spark as he overloaded… when a sharp sound tore into the moans and screams and Skywarp felt a totally exquisite agony for a nanoklik… and nothing else.

Mirage

Mirage stood frozen with the rifle in his hand, watching the already graying Seeker topple slowly to the side from the force of the shot that went straight into his exposed spark. As soon as he hit the ground the noble was running onto his lover's side, falling on his knees, madly checking if he was all right, or at least as all right as he could be, calling his name, calling the Ark on his comm, shouting for help and trying to get the attention of Hound… he was leaking energon in a dozen places from torn and clawed wounds, his spark still exposed, the interface panel torn and the valve ravaged brutally – but he was alive and even coming around, recognizing Mirage. Since none of the other Autobots had quite the right alt-modes to drive on the rough forest floor, they had to carry out Hound on foot until at the edge of the forest Ratchet could finally transform and take him to the Ark med-bay. As for Skywarp's body, Prime ordered it to be collected, since he didn't want the humans to get hold of it and learn advanced technology and weaponry, not to mention warping. The Aerialbots had a hard time of lifting it out from the dense forest, and they were picking tree boughs from their wing-flaps for days afterwards.

Ratchet

The exchange was a dark affair, Skyfire transporting the energon to the waiting Cons to the agreed place, with only Ratchet with him to see to Bumblebee's injuries, and both parties withdrawing at once after it happened. On their way back neither Skyfire nor the medic could bring them to answer to the worried questions of their fellow Autobots in the comm… they were both too horrified by the scout's condition. Ratchet hardly know where to start repairing him, as there was simply not a single whole, undamaged patch of metal on his body, and he was leaking all kinds of fluids basically from everywhere. Upon arriving to the Ark he took the mangled body out from the shuttle's hold – and saw the horror-struck faces around him who saw the condition of their friend… Nobody could say a word as he took Bumblebee into sickbay, hooked him up onto an energon feed line and as he started patching up the numerous leaks, a single, dark thought started to go round in his meta. There was no way he could fix the scout. Yes, he could repair a lot, but the injuries were so extensive, went so deep, into his protoform, into his innermost parts, elements, alloys and parts that he simply did not have spares for. He could have him in spark-support and maybe, eventually they could transport him somehow back to Cybertron where they might get the parts and metals that he would need. But it would take vorns and he was sure that the yellow mech – who was at this point neither yellow nor really a mech in the strictest sense of the word - was close to going mad as it were from the torture, not to mention being in this mangled state for such a long time to come.

He stood at one side of the med-bay table, Wheeljack working from the other but they hardly talked – only what was absolutely necessary while they removed damaged parts and stopped the leaks to stabilize the scout. There was pitifully little that remained when they finished the immediate repairs and removed the irreparable parts; barely anything that they could call a mech. When Ratchet finished with the work for the while, he covered the body with a microfiber tarp and turned to Hound that they brought in just after the spy; his injuries were more superficial, much easier to repair, even as the medic knew that the psychological scars were just as deep. But at least he could repair his body and Mirage would slowly heal the rest. When he was ready with Hound and turned back to the other table Ratchet suddenly felt older than in a long time… he went into his office for a much-needed cube of high-grade, cursed loudly the war that made mechs such barbarians, so cruel and vicious… and when he was through with his private outburst collected himself, cast a loathing glare at the grey, dead Seeker body on one of the tables and went to report to Prime. He was glad that he caught Prowl and Jazz with Optimus, but on the other hand he felt cruel to give them such news; their relationship with Bumblebee was not public knowledge on the Ark but he, as medic knew all about it. On his way there, he stopped by the rec-room to tell the others that the spy was stable for now, but facing to a long recovery, while Hound would be out in no time; the relief was palpable in the room at those news.

"What is his condition, Ratchet?"

"He is stable now Prime, but the outlook is not good. He won't die, that is not a danger, but I have even worse news; I simply cannot repair him, as we haven't got the necessary alloys and parts. His processor and the memory banks are also damaged somewhat and I'll have to make a hardline connection to his meta to see what condition he is in. But not until he is stronger a bit, and the missing, irreparable parts are the bigger problem."

"I can't believe that… there is a whole planet with technological civilization around us. Is there no way to manufacture the parts that you need?"

"We don't have protoform-alloys, nor the means to manufacture or handle it, not to mention the necessary knowledge. The rest I might be able to fabricate from Earth materials, but this I cannot; if I tried that he would be crushed every time Ironhide patted him on the shoulder or the twins bumped into him on the corridor; it would be a torture for him, not a real existence. Earth metals are simply too weak and none of us is a metallurgist to invent new alloys."

"And on Cybertron…?"

"That is the only way I can imagine… but you know how long it would take, as we have no spaceship with us here. Close to a vorn at the very least, while Bumblebee would have no body and only a hardline connection to the outside world… I can't even connect a vocalizer so he could speak…"

Prowl maintained his calm façade with an effort, and only those who knew him well noticed the rage that was seething in the inside and made him hitch up his doorwings painfully. He stared at Ratchet's face resolutely as though waiting for some solution from the medic even though he knew that he could not work miracles – but still he couldn't accept that the Bumblebee as they knew him was as good as gone. Their relationship with Jazz and the spy was not an old one and therefore not really known by the crew of the Ark, but the command staff more or less knew about it. Jazz didn't speak at all while Ratchet gave them the bad news, couldn't look at Prowl either, only his visor was flashing through the spectrum from white to almost dark… he was alternately planning the revenge that he was going to visit on the Cons and the methods they might be able to get the necessary parts to fix Bumblebee… wait a klik…

"Ratchet… what about Skywarp's body that we brought in? It is practically undamaged. Can't you use those parts and alloys?"

"Jazz… don't you think we haven't thought of that? We cannot work with protoform metal, there is simply no way. We'd have to build a factory for it but we lack the knowledge for that too. The other parts... well, he is a damn sight bigger than Bee, you see?"

His one-klik long hope was crushed at once. None of them spoke for a long time afterwards, and the meeting was adjourned with no plans either, aside for getting some sleep and that in the next cycle Ratchet should try a direct connection to Bumblebee to see if his mind was there at all. Ratchet went to his quarters for some more high-grade to forget; he saw many horrible things in his long-long career but this one, well it might have topped the list forever. He never so a mech so damaged and still online, still wanting to live, keeping his spark going. Prowl and Jazz went to their shared quarters and held each other unmoving, in silence, desperately missing their lover… when they fell into recharge they both saw a nightmare; in it what remained of Bumblebee was floating from the med-bay towards them, trailing his wires, cables and fluids, dropping mangled parts and they backed off from it in horror and shut out his pleas to help… neither of them spoke of the dream the next cycle, although Jazz divulged the details of Bee's condition to the crew. It shocked everyone.