Author notes: I'm such a fangirl. I was disappointed by what I found in other similar fics, so decided to write my own. I may or may not have been inspired by other fics that may or may not exist. Maybe. I dunno. Do you? O_O
Warnings: Technically non-con in a giant-robots-from-SPACE kind of way. Take from that what you will. May get worse later on; we'll see what my brain comes up with.
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Streamline: Chapter One
Violence is an energy
Against the enemy
Violence is an energy
Bringing on the fury
The choir infantry
Revolt against the honor to obey
Silence is the enemy
Against your urgency
So rally up the demons of your soul
-- "Know the Enemy", Green Day
Considering the abandoned warehouse the Autobots were using as a base was largely unmaintained, it wasn't a surprise that walls and ceilings had been crumbling. Some rooms that had been mid-construction before the entire site was abandoned now lacked walls, or windows, or even most of the ceiling. For the most part, the Autobots didn't mind; the weather wasn't too much of a concern, considering what they were.
When the building would be thoroughly flooded with daylight when the sun rose to greet them, it was natural. It served as a pleasant alarm clock in some rooms; Prowl, for example, had found sanctuary in a room lacking one wall entirely. He had even made a partially indoor garden. Where he had learned to garden was entirely unknown.
The bright light of the sun gently tugged at Bumblebee's dim optics now. Being a slightly more laid back bot -- or lazy, as Optimus Prime would put it --, he refused to greet the day. In fact, he woke from recharge only to cover his optics with an arm.
Still, the light was being persistent. It must have been a very bright, cloudless day; normally, he wouldn't have this much light in his single-windowed room. Sari had recently gifted him with some window curtains; after a few seconds, he decided the best course of action was to wake up to close the curtains in question.
Bumblebee onlined his optics with a grumble, a little groggy; he was always a little slow in the morning, his systems typically getting their first kick from a nice cube of mid-grade energon. Even only partially awake, he quickly noticed that he wasn't in his room.
For one thing, his room usually didn't have such a large, nearly wall-to-wall window. For another, the warehouse was nowhere near the beach, so he probably shouldn't be seeing the broad expanse of ocean outside said strange pane-glass.
"..Um.." Well, now he was out of recharge, and he was baffled. Not quite concerned, yet; his central processor was still trying to catch up with the world. Glancing around, he decided that what his slowly-working processor was suggesting was probably accurate; this wasn't his bed -- which was quite a bit larger than he was used to --, the room was incredibly large and certainly not his own, and absolutely nothing in the room belonged to him.
The giant Decepticon logo painted on the wall certainly wasn't his, either.
The yellow Autobot stared at the symbol for a few seconds, the last bit of fatigue finally fading away. It was then that he noticed he was wearing a rather cumbersome and very uncomfortable metal collar. Said collar was connected to the wall with a long strip of thick snake chain.
Well, now he was starting to worry. Starting to panic, in fact. Especially since he couldn't quite recall how he had gotten there; the last thing he remembered was falling in to recharge while playing Ninja Gladiator 2. This happened frequently enough; usually, he'd wake up on the couch.
This was definitely not the couch.
For a few cycles, Bumblebee tugged at the chain and collar, trying to dislodge it; he was trying to disconnect the entire chain from the base, one foot firmly on the wall in his effort, when he heard footsteps. He stilled, foot still on the wall, and looked to the suddenly open doorway.
His optics followed along as Megatron, leader of the Decepticons, calmly walked inside. Without even looking at the chained Autobot, he picked up a half-empty energon cube from a table and walked back out. The door slid shut of it's own accord.
Bumblebee stayed in that same position, looking to the closed door with shock. "..Oh, slag."
Frantically, he renewed his attempts on the chain and metal. After a solid breem of absolutely no success, the yellow bot gave up, intake coming in fast from panic. A quick check of his own frame and systems found all of his weapons either gone or deactivated, and his comm bracelet nowhere in sight.
He resorted to swearing profusely at the metal chain, sitting on the floor and tugging on the collar. He didn't know why he wasn't offline -- the Decepticons were not known for keeping prisoners for very long --, but he didn't want to stay to find out.
The sun was halfway across the sky, out of view of the window entirely, by the time Bumblebee tired completely. He sat, arms folded, by the base of the chain, grumbling, clinging to the annoyance kept the fear and worry at bay. The rest of the day was spent staring out the large window, taking in the rare sight of snow falling over the ocean. There was no ocean view near Detroit; only lakes, and they had a habit of freezing over in the winter.
By the time the sun began to set, his fuel tank let out a rumble, automated systems scraping for every last drop of energon. Typically, Bumblebee would drink several cubes of energon by this time, but he hadn't had one yet. As he glared at the general direction of his own tank, a soft 'swish' whispered in the air; the door was open again.
Bumblebee looked up in alarm, watching with wide-optic silence as the gray-painted leader of the Decepticon forces walked in again. A wild, shrill cackle -- the crazy side that was Blitzwing -- echoed from down the hall, silenced abruptly as the door slid shut again.
The yellow Autobot said nothing, standing slowly. He naturally assumed that the Decepticon leader would eventually say or do something to let him know why he had been kidnapped. Although, being left alone for so many hours hadn't been expected, either; so, he simply followed Megatron with his optics, waiting.
The Decepticon leader in question stopped to stare at the small yellow mech with narrowed optics, as if not quite knowing what he was doing there.
Bumblebee had never been able to handle silence for very long, and the importance of the situation did nothing to quell the annoyance. In fact, he outright glared at the imposing mech that towered above him. "I won't tell you anything about Allspark fragments or where our base is or anything!"
Megatron moved so quickly, Bumblebee saw little more than a blur; next thing he knew, a dark hand was around his throat -- pressing the collar in painfully -- and slamming him against the wall. Yellow and black feet flailed in the air. "Hey, put me down!"
"I already know the location of that warehouse you call a base." Megatron's expression didn't change, stoic. Not so much as a smirk at what those words meant.
"You're lying." For a brief moment, Bumblebee stopped flailing, gripping the hand around his throat. "Or I'd be offline."
For a moment, the Decepticon and Autobot simply glared at each other. After several nano-kliks, the Decepticon Lord finally reached in, kissing the small Autobot.
Bumblebee stilled again, sensory pupils dilating in shock and sudden horror. The kiss didn't last long, and when Megatron pulled away to stare in that same quiet anger, the small Autobot gaped. "Oh, slag."
He quite suddenly found himself flying, only to land hard on the large bed he had been chained next to for so many hours. He didn't have time to get his thoughts in order or to push aside the processor-freezing panic; Megatron was on top of him, still silent and still glaring. The collar and chain was forgotten completely; he flailed, kicking and punching.
"Get off get off get off get off!" The Autobot hissed in terrified fury.
Megatron still said nothing; he silently straddled the bot who was barely more than half his size, pinning both yellow hands with one of his own. The other groped the small bots' chassis; it took a long cycle to find the hidden seams and latches and, even with Bumblebee's struggling and loud swearing, the armor's protective casing was torn open.
"What are you doing?!" Bumblebee shrieked with that protective anger, knowing full well his spark chamber was exposed.
The returned silence was maddening; the Autobot was so used to the bizarre banter the Decepticons tended to fire back with that hearing absolutely nothing when such a terrible crime was about to be committed was outright infuriating.
"Say something!"
Megatron was silent. He glared down coldly, optics narrowing further as he opened up his own chassis. He then shifted positions, lowering ever so slightly, allowing the two delicate sparks to meet.
Sparkbonding worked in strange ways, sometimes; when two sparks met in joy, caressing each other in a symphony of affection, they literally exchanged a small part of themselves. The switch was often sensual and divinely pleasurable as a piece of one spark replaced another.
When a bonding was committed by force, the victimized half had a strong chance of permanent off-lining. A spark could be so desperate to escape, so thoroughly unwilling to give up part of itself and take in the other, the glowing sphere that made a bots very existence could forcefully tear free of it's own casing to escape.
Despite Bumblebee's vast inexperience -- partially due to youth, mostly due to pickiness -- he knew exactly how a bonding worked and he truly wanted no part of this one. He offlined his optics, but chose not to escape; instead, he focused, willing his very core to fight. Somehow, his spark did as told; his spark clutched at itself, refusing to allow the other in. It neither cowered nor fled, standing it's ground, so to speak, within it's casing.
"Get off!" The Autobot wasn't going to give this up without a fight.
Megatron blinked his optics briefly in surprise, but then growled in annoyance. His free hand pulled back and clenched in to a fist, striking the chained mech harshly.
Bumblebee yelped in sudden shock, not expecting the fist to hit his face. The second blow caused the optic beneath to glitch and briefly online; the third sent a dizzying array of flashing lights dancing in his vision, which promptly offlined again. The fourth was a complete distraction from the battle being waged.
Still, the small Autobot held firm. Despite shrieks of pain from either the physical blows or the assault on his very spark, he refused to waver. His cooling systems worked in overdrive to try and reverse the overheating that had begun quite a while ago, a soft dew forming from the meeting of hot and cold. The soft trickle of water fell off both of the warriors and on to the bed; the condensation falling from Megatron actually helped cool Bumblebee's systems better.
It was nearly half a groon before the blows stopped raining and the fight stopped altogether; much to Bumblebee's surprise, it was Megatron who backed off first, his spark retreating from the smaller Autobot's.
"Impressive." The Decepticon gasped, optics slightly wider than they had been before as he closed his spark chamber and outer armor. He did not perform the same curtousy for the small Autobot.
It took Bumblebee a moment to realize just what had happened; the horridly intimate battle had been waged, and the Autobot had actually won; he had successfully warded Megatron off. It was only then that he grinned, unafraid of allowing himself to fall in to recharge; offline bots couldn't be forced to bond.
As he fell in to a deep recharge, Bumblebee could have sworn he felt Megatron lay down beside him.
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Violence is an energy
From here to eternity
Violence is an energy
Silence is the enemy
So gimme, gimme revolution
Overthrow the effigy
The vast majority
We're burning down the bargain of control
-- "Know Your Enemy", Green Day