Hungry red optics trailed over the writhing body chained to the wall. The young mech was feisty, and loyal to the Autoscum who had reared him. Megatron licked his lips in anticipation. Despite the young mech's naivety, the tyrant knew that breaking him of his ridiculous Autobot morals would be a challenge. It had been far too long since the last time he had been challenged. Starscream no longer provided adequate entertainment; perhaps the demoted Prime would prove to be worth more.

The silver warlord pushed away from the communication station, cameras still focused on his guest. Optimus' team had already been in contact, demanding the return of their precious leader. He had deployed Lugnut and Blitzwing to take care of the pests. Of course, Optimus was unaware that his friends were searching for him. He had seen fit to keep that information from his prisoner, preferring to keep the little mech in the dark with no contact from anyone – even other Decepticons – in order to make him more reliant on Megatron for food, information and companionship.

It didn't take long to reach the brig. Prime had once again tired himself out and was hanging limply in his bonds. Megatron's smile was predatory.

"Hello, Little Prime." Optimus jerked.

"Megatron!" The force field deactivated, allowing the helicopter entrance into the cell. He raked his optics over his prey, noting the weak struggles, the dim blue optics and battered chassis. A surge of lust flashed through his systems, but the silver mech repressed it. Now was not the time. Perhaps in future sessions.

"Hungry, Prime?" He pulled two cubes of energon from his subspace, watching as greedy blue optics focused on the cubes. Despite the lithe mech's obvious hunger, Optimus made no move to claim one. "So stubborn," Megatron purred, stepping closer. He moved until he was pressed flush against the smaller mech's chassis, and raised one of the cubes up to those full, lush lips. Optimus jerked his head away, determined not to give in to his captor. One large, silver hand cupped his chin, forcing him to face Megatron once again. The cube pressed insistently against his sealed lips. "Drink it. It is not poisoned. It would do me no good to kill you now." The warlord purred into his smaller counterpart's audio finials.

Optimus struggled against the temptation, emotions playing out on his expressive faceplates. In the end, hunger won, and he opened his lips, allowing Megatron to feed him. Megatron said nothing as the pretty little mech drank both cubes, choosing to wait until the small mech had sated his hunger.

"One would think that you have never tasted energon before. Ah, but I suppose the council does not see the need to waste good rations on a team of washed out repair bots." Pain flashed though those expressive optics, but Optimus was quick to mask it.

"It is difficult to send energon from Cybertron to Earth. We make do with what we have." Even though the rations they had were over fifty years old they did not complain. Sure, they resented it, but they knew complaining would not change anything. Besides, energon was energon, even if it was stale.

"Does the Elite Guard not make bi-monthly trips to this wretched planet? Are you telling me that they cannot spare some of their precious energon?"

"Energon is sent to the front lines, and as we already have an adequate supply they do not need to bring more. Energon is sent to the front lines first, which is where it is needed. That is their priority."

"My Elite soldiers are here, facing you. I am here." Contempt crossed the Decepticon's handsome face. "You are the only team of your generation to not only face us once, but dozens of times, and each time you have come out alive," this was said with grudging respect, even if the tone was sour, "almost none of your comrades on the "front lines" can say that. You are alive – and in possession of several Allspark fragments – by luck and a modicum of skill, and you have proven it to your superiors, have you not? Yet they still do not fully believe you. You're large, arrogant friend… Sentinel, I believe, tried to arrest you when he arrived, and even once they knew I was here they still abandoned you to my mercies. I wonder, are they trying to get rid of you?" Optimus was having a hard time focusing. The purring vibrations from the great Decepticon's frame transferred into his own, lighting up his frame with a strange heat. That, combined with the truth of Megatron's words made it hard to come up with a decent argument.

"Our – our story did sound unbelievable, and they never actually saw you," the argument was weak and he knew it, but he couldn't believe that they had been abandoned; no matter how true the other made it sound. They were Autobots! They did not leave others behind.

"Perhaps so," Megatron purred, his dark voice oozing seductiveness. The young Prime shuddered, whether in lust or fear Megatron did not know, nor care. Both would get him the results he sought. "But let us look at some of their other acts of negligence, concerning you and your team. We'll start with your expulsion from the Autobot academy." Those pretty blue optics widened, and this time the young mech could not hide his pain. Hough vorns had passed since that incident, it was still a fresh wound. Sentinel never let him forget it.

"Now, I believe that the files said that three academy students were on a training mission. The team lead had been a young, promising mech, though the others were so as well. Elita-1 and Sentinel Minor requested permission to land a shuttle on a nearby organic planet. The ship logged the request, as it did the denial of the team lead. The two went anyway, forcing the Prime to follow them, and ensure that they did not get into any trouble, as any good leader would do. There are also logs of the repeated attempts the Prime made to get the two to return to the ship, along with their denials.

"During an altercation with the organics the femme was lost, while you were able to save Sentinel and get him back to Cybertron. Did I miss anything, Optimus?" The pretty chassis beneath him trembled with repressed sobs. "Now, were you foolish? Yes. Was it your job to keep them safe? Yes. However it was their choice to disobey you, and you cannot save mechs from their own stupidity. You all knew it was dangerous. You should have let the fools die while you summoned a higher commanding officer. Your decision was noble, if futile," Optimus stilled in shock. Had… had the Decepticon Lord just paid him a compliment? "But in no way should you have been expelled. Especially since they had the whole event on file. But then you offered yourself up as a scapegoat and they took it eagerly, barring you from the academy, despite your grades, dedication, and potential. Even now they use you as one, don't they, Optimus?"

"We – we are all cogs in the machine; we all have our purposes…"

"You spout this dribble often, my dear mech, but do you believe it? Do you believe that Prowl, the only ninja since Yoketron to master mind-over-matter is little more than a repair drone? Or Ratchet, the Great Wars medic infamous even among my people for the battlefield miracles he was capable of, is he now nothing more than a lowly mechanic? The younglings on your team, do you see no potential in them, just like the others back home? Perhaps they were meant to do nothing more than smash rock on Primus forsaken asteroids."

"Stop it! They are so much more than that! Don't you dare talk about them as though they are scum, good for nothing other than repairs! They are not!" Megatron's smirk was dark. Every mech had their buttons, the ones that made them lash out, angry and offended. Everyone had a way to be manipulated, most had many. He had just found one of Optimus'. He had held up well under having to relieve the painful memories, but it was easy to see that his pride in his team could be used against him. If he was angry enough at the Autobots for their treatment… well that opened up a galaxy of possibilities.

"I know, little Prime," the silver mech growled softly, "your little team has been an irritant since the day you came online on this mud ball. No, it is not I that you need to convince." Optimus' righteous anger began to drain away, replaced by a dull horror that came with knowing he had just snarled at Megatron. Most of his processor had locked up with fear, but there was a part of him that was defiant. He had meant what he said, Pit take it, and he wasn't going to recant his words. He braced himself, trying not to let his fear overtake him, waiting for pain. It didn't come. Megatron pulled back slightly, looking into his optics before smiling a slow, hungry smile that was perhaps more terrifying than the fact that he had lashed out at Megatron. "You are finally beginning to see, aren't you?" Optimus refused to answer, dismayed that he had spoken against the Autobots, but angry that Megatron's words rang true. An insidious little voice in his processor said that everything Megatron had spoken of had an element of truth to it. He did his best to ignore it, turning away again. Something wet rasped against his cheek, dragging up to his optic before disappearing. The young Autobot whipped around in shock, but the silver faceplates betrayed nothing. "I'll leave you here to think on this, shall I?" Megatron did not wait for an answer, exiting the cell and reactivating the bars before leaving the brig. Optimus was left alone, with only a tingling wetness left on his cheek as a reminder of what Megatron had said.

----------

e vit TTime passed slowly. Optimus didn't know how long it had been since Megatron had left him alone. His thoughts had run in cycles ever since. He was a failure. His team had needed a leader. They had looked to him for guidance, even Prowl, despite his solitary nature. He had done his best to protect him. They worked in pairs to protect themselves – and the humans – from the Decepticons. He trained them himself, using what he learned when training for the Guard, and had Prowl try to teach them basic Circuit Su. At the same time, he didn't baby them, letting them make their own mistakes and – hopefully – learn from them themselves. But still, he had failed.

Optimus did not care for avoidable confrontation. He was no coward, and would fight when necessary, but he saw little point in arguing for argument's sake. It was why he rarely fought back when Sentinel started in on him. Sure, he vented and grumbled to himself when the bigger bot was gone, but it was just that: venting. His lingering guilt over Elita-1's death also stilled some of his more barbed comebacks. He would not argue when the attacks were directed at him, but why had he not stood up for his team? He had stood quietly while the High Command belittled and mocked them as they did him. True, Bumblebee had a habit of running his vocalizer, and often got on Sentinel's bad side because of it, but he never deserved the berating always bestowed on him. Prowl tended to make himself scarce whenever the Elite came for an inspection. Bulkhead would put away his art, hiding it as though it was something to be ashamed of. A sharp pain in his hands drew him from his thoughts. He hadn't realized he had been clenching his fists.

Although he did not have claws, he had applied enough pressure to rupture the soft metal of his servos. A thin trickle of energon slipped from between his tightened knuckles, dripping down to the floor in a soft, steady rhythm. He focused on that, inhaling deeply, and trying to control his anger. This wasn't like him. Normally he was calm, unflappable. He thought that he could take anything thrown at him. But Megatron's words had his him hard. He genuinely cared for his team. They were a family of sorts, and he had let them down. He was angry with himself for failing them, but at the same time he knew that the blame did not lie fully on his shoulders. The system had failed them, had tried to destroy them. They were mechs with so much potential and talent, but they did not fit the Autobot mold and so they were abandoned in space with only the instruction to "fix the spacebridges". It wasn't fair.

So focused on trying to calm himself, Optimus missed the sound of the brig door sliding open. He did notice when the force field deactivated. He jerked in surprise, optics narrowing as he studied the silver frame of his captor.

"Hello again, Little Prime." Optimus stayed silent. "Not feeling very talkative, are you? No matter. Have you thought about what I said?" The smaller mech hesitated, before nodding. He could feel the tension seep from his shoulders as he anger fled. Oh, he was still mad, but right now survival instincts were kicking in. He hadn't forgotten the way he had snapped at Megatron. He doubted that the Warlord had either. But… he hadn't been punished. Megatron had seemed almost… delighted. And, he had licked him. Optimus still didn't understand that.

Megatron said no more. He simply raised the cube of energon he had brought with him to the Prime's pretty lips, forcing him to drink. As before, he waited until the energon was all gone before saying anything.

"The Elite Guard has landed in your absence. They are not very happy with your team." Optimus still did not respond. He seemed determined to give Megatron nothing else that could be used against him. True, he was furious with his superiors, but he was still an Autobot. He was still loyal. Megatron was sure that he would not be, not for much longer. Optimus was young, but he was very firm in his beliefs. He was somewhat of a martyr, sacrificing himself for those around him. But Megatron had been around for a great number of vorns, and he was familiar with this game. Optimus was a spitfire underneath his calm persona. He would fight for those he cared about and the cause that he believed in. His kind never took betrayal well.

"In fact," he stepped up close to Optimus, pressing against his body, purring against his audios. Optimus tried not to think about the comfort of being surrounded by larger mech. The deep, voice sending vibrations through him didn't help. He was disgusted with himself. He knew that he had been attracted to Megatron in the past, back in the academy. Elita and Sentinel had often teased him about his crush on the charismatic leader. He had thought he had gotten over that though. And here he was, thinking about the feeling on the helo pressed against him while his team was trapped with Sentinel and the Magnus. He should be there with them. "They are so angry over your disappearance that your team has been arrested for your "desertion", as they are calling it. That black and white ninja seems to disagree, but he can't do anything for them. Well, other than aiding Prowl's escape. Now he's on the run, and will also be charged with fleeing an obstruction of justice. How just the Autobots are!"

"What do you want from me?" Optimus' soft voice was tight with anger and pain. Megatron smirked, slips pressed against the side of his adversary's helm.

"The real question is, what do you want, Optimus? Do you want to be apart of the Elite Guard, the protectors of Cybertron, they hypocrites who betrayed you? Do you want to give it all up and vanish, leave everything behind you and start again? Or, do you want to save your friends."

"You already know that answer. You've only been mocking me with thoughts of them ever since you brought me here."

"Mm, very true," ah, there was the fiery spirit coming through. Optimus was beautiful like this, unrestrained and passionate, barely reining in that destructive emotion, "I do know that. I also know that on your own you cannot win against them. You will only sink into oblivion with your team as the Autobot corruption runs rampant." Optimus bristled at that, even though he was beginning to see that they were as corrupt as Megatron claimed. Did that mean that Megatron and the Decepticons were right?