A Shockwave X Cybertronian Reader Short Story

(Y/D) - Your Designation

(F/C) - Favorite Color

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     Shockwave battled his own thoughts, a very rare and frustrating happening. More often than not, he could keep his thoughts in line, a perfect order that left no room for clutter or chaos. Like his many boxes, his thoughts had labels and were stored neatly in place for him to open for later use. It was simple (to him), time saving and clean. It was illogical to change it. Until he realized there was one topic that appeared in every single, hypothetical box. 

     (Y/D) wasn't particularly special. She certainly didn't show any sign of Shockwave's intellect or genius that he had observed and was more of a bother than anything. However, the femme was the only being he knew who didn't care what or who the scientist experimented on. She knew of nearly all his exploits, be them legal or otherwise, and rarely said a word about them to her colleagues at the amusement park the caste system forced her to work in. She rarely came to their shared housing unit on any specific schedule, and when she did return the femme inspected Shockwave's project, consumed her energon ration and high grade, then went to recharge for whatever odd shift she was next tasked with. 

     Shockwave hated the lack of routine, and her ability to simply sneak up on him despite having a motion sensor above his office door. Other than the femme, no one else came through, so the sense of safety and privacy was only interrupted by (Y/D). Even then, she never seemed to have a problem when he occasionally asked her to fetch a tool or some ingredient from the markets (legal or otherwise), and though the shorter bot loomed over his work she never seemed to say a word. Only her rare, loud yet silent presence irked the seemingly emotionless scientist. 

     For a long time, he believed she had been a law enforcer, watching him and making note of his doings. Waiting for the mech to practice his illegal goings-on in order to arrest him. However, Shockwave soon was tired of the paranoia and followed the femme to work one night. She hadn't said a word suggesting she knew he had followed her all those years ago, and (Y/D) never would even if she had seen him. 

     Shockwave realized their shared living quarters was the safest place for his work when she came back with a rare but important chemical to one of his projects. He had not mentioned his need of it but did write it down in one of his datapads. The femme had said nothing about how she found it; simply placing the black sludge-like substance on Shockwave's desk before leaving his office, taking a long pull from her cheap high grade; but Shockwave knew the only way someone of her caste could get ahold of it was through the Black Trades and smugglers.

         And so, we arrive to Shockwave's dilemma: whether to invite the femme to join him or not. 

     He wasn't sure what he felt towards her, the mech only knew that much of his routine (or what there was of one) had something to do with (Y/D). She was a very small aspect of the big picture, but she was still there and deleted several small hassles in his daily life. Such as mingling with others on little errands. The fact that she was kind enough to let him rent the second room in the housing unit didn't cross his processor, as the femme clearly didn't care who stayed with her from the mannerisms she portrayed upon their first meeting.

         "Yeah?" A tired pair of (F/C) optics opened the paint-chipped door. The femme Shockwave had contacted was certainly nothing like he had imagined from the messages they had exchanged. He had expected a perky bot with some annoying smile and a cheery disposition, not this run-down, half-recharged, nonchalant individual.

         "I am Shockwave." He had greeted. "I had inquired about the extra room three solar-cycles ago."

     The femme was silent as she nodded and showed the mech inside. The living room was plain, with a single couch that stared at the open kitchen which held an energon dispenser and small fridge. The femme waved for her guest to follow up the stairs, where two doors stared at each other. She opened the left, so Shockwave guessed it to be the guest room. It was as unimpressive as the space downstairs, with a berth and small cabinet on the opposite wall. 

         "You had mentioned a wash-rack?" Shockwave inquired, the answer being a pointed digit at the end of the hall, where another door stared at them. 

     After inspecting the simple cleaning facility, Shockwave knew the femme was at least sanitary. She led him back down the stairs and opened a door behind the couch. Shockwave merely nodded when he realized it was the office space she had mentioned in the ad. 

         "So?" (Y/D) questioned curtly, making the mech guess she was waiting for his decision to live there or to look at other options. 

     Realistically, Shockwave knew the living quarters was too small for his work, even with the unused office all to himself. He had researched other ads that were of a preferred size, but they were either too far from the markets or too close to more populated areas. (Y/D)'s had said she was near a lesser populated area frequented by Grey low caste bots (meaning she wasn't a miner, but she was high enough on the caste system to rent her own space, though small). It was the only option with a more ideal location. 

         "I will be able to move within less than a deca-cycle."

     That was the extent of their conversation, and nothing more was said for the next several years. Shockwave was caught off guard when the femme would return and say nothing. She would simply take her energon and high grade (always one bottle of high grade), watch his work for a minute or two and then go recharge. He found that her wash rack was so sanitary because she rarely used it. He had questioned her about it once, but (Y/D) merely shrugged and pointed at a singular poster in her living room. Shockwave found that the amusement park she was tasked with working at had its own sanitation locker, as said on the poster.

     The scientist almost didn't want to interrupt their ongoing silence, which was only interrupted by him in the rare occasion. He also was very close to inviting the femme to go with him to the outskirts of civilization. 

     His experiments were becoming too big to hide anymore, and his studies were requiring too many materials to keep his goings-on secret for much longer. He knew the Council had been searching for him after coming forth with his vision of science and how it could be improved (they did not like his efforts and how merciless his methods could be) so leaving civilization behind altogether was the wisest. Certain areas of Cybertron were uninhabited but the dangers could easily be bypassed. Shockwave had been building his lab for several years in preparation for the inevitable, and it was built to last. No one could interrupt him where the law dares not go.

     The door outside his now empty office rattled with rusted paint, making Shockwave aware that the femme had returned at the odd hour of the night. He picked up one of the boxes set on the desk, his step mildly hurried in an attempt to interrupt (Y/D)'s simple routine. Setting the box on the metal couch, the mech looked up to watch her for a moment before speaking.

         "I am leaving tonight." He informed, earning a tired and silent nod. Shockwave hesitated, calculating what exactly asking (Y/D) to come with him would mean and do. "Will you come with me?"

     (Y/D) knocked a bottle of high grade from the small fridge on the counter. She caught it with agile servos before setting it back and straightening her hunched posture. Shockwave searched for any other body language besides the clear surprise but only being able to see her (F/C) backplates made that difficult. (Y/D) was motionless for several long minutes before turning around to stare at the scientist, revealing a different expression other than her usual nonchalant exhaustion. 

     She stared at him with curiosity and doubt.

         "You barely know me." She finally answered, voice rough and tired. 

         "Perhaps, but you have been- helpful." Shockwave admitted, watching the femme take a long pull from her high grade before setting the bottle down to return to staring at him. 

         "Do you know what I do, Shockwave?" 

     The questioned surprised him, but he answered, nonetheless. 

         "You are a janitorial custodian at the amusement park." He nodded.

         "And do you know what that means?"

     His silence showed that he, in fact, did not. (Y/D) only rolled her optics before wrapping her dented digits around her side-plating and bending it painfully as she winced. Shockwave's antenna swiveled in confusion before his optic caught the sight of a small red light beneath the plating, imbedded into her very protoform. 

         "I'm part of the slave trades, Shockwave. I'll be worked until I'm offline. I can't go any farther than this building unless I want my lovely little bedazzlement to tell my employer I'm trying to escape." She let the plating fold back down with another wince. "You wanted to know why rent is so cheap? Because it's the only amount I can get without being found out, it's spent on high grade. I live here because the aft who bought me doesn't want to be trialed for purchasing slaves instead of paying a caste member."

     (Y/D) was clearly disgusted with herself, or perhaps her circumstances. She was surviving, and likely tried her best not to make a fuss or else risk losing what she had been graciously given, though it was little. She might be sent back to the slave trades if she risked too much. 

         "How have you kept my renting of your extra living space secret?" Shockwave questioned. 

         "Not telling you where exactly you were staying, who you were staying with and giving the other slaves a cut of the credits you pay me." She answered truthfully, her usual shrug paired with her suddenly chatty nature. "You leaving yet or what?"

     (Y/D) took a long pull from her high grade and to Shockwave's surprise, took another bottle before she had even finished her first. 

         The mech grabbed his box, the last of many, and left without another word. 

     The femme waited for the door to close before downing the rest of the one bottle and opening the next by tearing the top off with her unnaturally sharpened denta. She spit the peeled cap out before trudging up to her room and simply laying down after chugging the second bottle. Her last thoughts were of lost days and hell before falling into a restless recharge, as she always did. 

     When (Y/D) woke up again, she stared up at an unfamiliar roof. She sat up to stare at an unfamiliar room and an unfamiliar door stared back, closed and menacing. Her spark started to race as her processor began to panic. She could only imagine that she had finally been caught, or that someone ratted her out once Shockwave had left. 

     Swinging her pedes over the berth, (Y/D) gasped at the sudden pain in her side. She scraped at her armor, lifting it up to find that her tracking device was still there, but the light had changed from red to purple. She didn't know what that meant, but she was sure it meant nothing good. She tried standing, but the sudden swish of opening doors made her hiss and crouch like a feral cat. Upon seeing Shockwave with an energon ration, (Y/D) straightened and fell back onto the berth. 

         "I did not calculate that you would wake up this late." He admitted monotonously.

         "Where-"

         "My private lab." He interrupted. "Trying to escape is illogical."

         "Escape?" (Y/D) choked. "Escape-" she repeated, "escape what? I'm being hunted down as we speak!"

         "You, in fact, are not." He informed, setting the ration next to her before starting his slow plod back out. 

         "I don't understand." 

     Shockwave paused, his antenna flitting up and down as he thought. When he finally turned around, he pointed at her side with the tracking device. 

         "I adjusted the tracking device and made it my own. Anywhere you go, I will know." His servo lowered as his stare held with the frowning visage of (Y/D). "Your previous owner knows nothing, as I took you shortly after I left. Until you have proven to me that you are trustworthy, the device will remain."

         "It can be taken off?" The femme marveled, though she only received silence as a response. "What about the others?" She questioned. "They'll be punished whether they saw you abduct me or not."

         "That holds no sway in my work." Shockwave informed. "You will remain here until you are properly rested, and at optimal working capacity. I will need supplies from the Black Market, and you will need your speed as I do not have the funds to purchase some items."

         "How'd you know I was a racer?" (Y/D)'s frown deepened. 

         "I did not." Shockwave admitted. "However, your reflexes and constant fatigue even with proper nourishment suggested your potential."

     Nodding, (Y/D) was left to her own devices, and she began to try to remember what freedom felt like. She could run, drive and fight like she used to. No, she wasn't completely free, but with Shockwave as her new boss, she could be. 

         "I could go home." She whispered. "I could-" her glossa felt the sharpened edges of her denta, and she frowned. "I could be treated like an animal all over again."

     She remembered the night, or perhaps it was day, when she had been strapped to a table and her denta were carved into with a drill and sander. They still ached because of the unnatural shape and the amount of material taken away, all so the slave traders could identify their catch. (Y/D) guessed Shockwave might be able to fix them, but part of her didn't want them fixed. 

     Her optics slowly dulled as her form relaxed for the first time in years. Helping Shockwave on the side wasn't too bad, so maybe working for him wouldn't be all that horrible. Certainly not as hellish as the slave trades.

         "Freedom is a joke anyway." She hummed. "At least now I can race the wind again."

The end