DESPISE YOU

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Warning: Depiction of suffocation/choking/drowning, physical suffering

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"Nobody can save me now,"

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Jack had fallen asleep in Ratchet's servos, yet when he woke up he was back in his chains, alone. A heavy blanket was draped across his shoulders, making him wonder who had put it there, and when?

Surely not Megatron. If he did do it, it was because Ratchet had voiced concerns, or the tyrant had realized Jack would be abnormally cold without it; which could have been prevented if his blood-lust had not warped his judgement.

He shuddered, feeling violated and betrayed. It terrified him to be in such a vulnerable position, subject to whatever Megatron decided he wanted to do with him. Be it beat him, kill him, or whatever other sick actions he wished to inflict on his victim.

Jack twisted his wrists to grip the chains, flinching as his back throbbed. He tried to readjust himself, feeling incredibly uncomfortable and exhausted. Just like before his chains refused to budge, and his shoulders ached painfully. The young man was miserable.

As if he had been summoned by mere thought, the door opened and Megatron's heavy, calculated footsteps strode through. Jack cringed as he felt his stomach rumble with hunger, and he wondered bitterly if Megatron was going to hand feed him, further degrading the human's already lowered morale.

A massive servo appeared in his line of vision and made him flinch, though Megatron merely deposited a container of frothy, almost yellow-tinged liquid, as well as several sponges. There too was a small container of energon, and Jack's stomach twisted. They were all fairly large, but still human sized.

What is he doing?

He gasped as his chains suddenly became loose, falling forward as Megatron transformed, his servo sliding the blanket from Jack's shoulders and discarding it to the side.

"What are you doing?" Jack demanded, getting up. He realized he could not fully stand, only able to get into an unflattering crouched position. With a huff he fell back to his knees, arms dropping to his sides.

Megatron strode around into his line of vision, something about his mood improved. Jack realized that since the last time he saw the tyrant he had polished - or, more likely, one of his servants polished him - and his optics glowed with renewed energy.

"Your wounds will become infected if they are not cleansed," he spoke softer, and Jack had the bewildered thought that this was some kind of weird dream. If he squinted hard enough, he could almost think Megatron cared. Flat, black digits cupped his chin. "And I will not have you under the care of another."

There it is. Jack regarded him bitterly, moving his chin out of his grip. "I can clean myself, thanks. And I need food."

"Indeed, you do," Megatron agreed, completely ignoring the first part. "And your maintenance as it is is far too inconvenient. So we will be . . . testing some theories."

The energon.

"It will kill me," Jack argued, tugging on his chains as Megatron turned his attention from him briefly to open the container of cleaner. "You know the energon is toxic to me, why would you insist on doing something as stupid as feed it to me?!"

He was panicking, that much was obvious, and he wondered if Megatron had truly lost it.

"Shockwave has assured me that, at most, your body will reject the energon and throw it back up." Megatron replied, unworried. "Humans and Cybertronians share a similar base structure, as seen with the similarities of CNA and DNA. It stands to reason that energon will sufficiently fuel your systems just like any other of your . . . foods."

"Didn't realize I could get all of my vitamins and minerals with one magic drink," Jack replied with bitter sarcasm.

As the container of the other liquid was cracked open, Jack's nose was assaulted with an almost too sweet smell, like a lemony soap that had a bit too much scent added to it. He could not help but gag, though the smell did not bother Megatron in the slightest.

"What is that?"

"Solvent," Megatron replied. "Surely your Autobot friends have informed you of its purpose?"

He sat the cube in front of Jack, the selection of sponges already present for the human to choose from. The human looked towards Megatron, who only looked at him with an unwavering gaze.

"It's for cleaning Cybertronians. I'm human - it could strip my skin off!"

Megatron did not seem to care. "If you are incapable, then I will clean you myself. And my patience is not as eternal as you may believe."

Jack quickly gripped a sponge, gazing at the solvent hesitantly. Surely if it was designed for living metal, then it would not burn his skin too much . . .?

Cringing, the young man dipped his hand in the cube, waiting for a burn that, thankfully, never came. In fact, the liquid was almost warm, feeling far too close to water for his comfort. After a moment of hesitation he placed the sponge against his cheek, flinching as it did burn a little bit, but he scrubbed the crusted blood while Megatron watched.

Under the tyrant's unwanted gaze Jack washed the blood from his skin, however he was unable to get his back. The hairs on his neck prickled as Megatron circled around, his sharp digits caressing the back of his neck for the barest of moments before he took care of the blood which had dried on Jack.

He was using one of the larger sponges, which was not destroyed by the flat digits of former Prime's arm, scrubbing in circular motions. The material felt good against Jack's skin, sending quiet prickles down his back.

He hated the feeling. Nothing made him more uneasy than the gentleness with which Megatron cleaned him, his intense presence sending shudders down his spine. The moment could very easily turn on a dime, with Megatron slicing his flesh to ribbons and beating him to a pulp. Yet here they were, and Jack almost wished it was the other scenario. At least that he was expecting.

And he was terrified that being lulled into a state of relaxation would leave him vulnerable to Megatron's manipulation. If he could, even just for a moment, make Jack falter, then he was lost.

Megatron was finished fairly quickly, which was both a relief to Jack and even somewhat amusing. The dictator wanted nothing to do with his organic body except to break it. He was sure the exposed "insides" disgusted the Cybertronian.

When Megatron circled back around Jack prepared to resist, watching him take the energon cube in his servos.

"I would rather starve," he hissed.

The Decepticon merely looked amused.

"Your biological drives will not refuse a potential food source," he pointed out cruelly. "Though I am not opposed to forcing this into your throat. Your choice, Jackson."

"It's just Jack," he snapped at his captor. "And if you're going to try and force it into my throat, you might as well crush it!"

Megatron's scarred lips pulled back, grinning viciously.

"You continuously insist on making things difficult for yourself," he mused. "It will bring me great enjoyment."

He cracked open the small energon cube, Jack briefly wondering if the tyrant had commissioned such a small thing for him, but he truly could not think of any use for it. Jack put his hands in front of his face in two fists, preparing to fight.

The "fight" lasted less than half a second, Megatron driving a foot right into his gut, Jack gasping harshly. He doubled over as pain pushed the air from his lungs, choking and sucking in as much oxygen as he could. Sharp digits wrapped around his neck, forcing his jaw open. He gripped the servos and squirmed, a small amount of energon pouring into his mouth, the rest spilling down his cheek and neck.

The young man screamed as his tongue seemed to go numb, mouth tingling as energon slid down his throat. His grip tightened and he choked, his cries allowing some energon to trickle down his windpipe.

He surged forward once Megatron let him go, coughing and shuddering whilst energon spilled from his lips to the floor. It spattered in front of him, his body shaking as he tried to convince himself to gag and throw-up. Instead, the energon settled in his stomach, its numbing feeling almost rock-like. Shortly after he composed himself his head was forced back up again, and his bright blue eyes met merciless red.

"S-stop . . ." he choked. "It will ki-"

This time it was the digits from the stolen arm which wrapped around his neck, tears coming to Jack's eyes as more energon went down his throat. Not wanting another choking experience he just refused to swallow, but unfortunately, Megatron knew what to do all too well.

Stopping before the human could spit it out, sharp digits pinched Jack's nose closed, forcing him to either swallow the energon or suffocate.

He tried to just allow himself to suffocate, his body writhing, fingers grasping at the servos which tormented him so. They cut on the various edges of the Cybertronian's armor, only adding to his suffering. Finally, having no other solution, his body was forced to swallow the substance.

His tongue still tingled, unable to truly taste the toxic substance. There was no way this would not kill him, and for a morbid moment Jack thought it would be better if he did drink the energon. He could not be more tortured than he already was - at least, as much as Megatron was willing to go for his sadistic amusement.

"Have you finished resisting, or am I going to have to continue to force you?" Megatron asked while his prisoner gasped for air. Jack glared up at him, knowing that if he accepted the energon, he was admitting defeat.

And he would not give Megatron that satisfaction.

"I'll just throw it up," Jack hissed, reaching to put his fingers in his throat.

Megatron lashed out, gripping his hand, and in the same motion he yanked the human into the air, causing him to cry out as his chains tightened. The arm in Megatron's grip felt as if it was going to break again, and his other hand shredded into tenderized meat if it were to slide through the cuff. This time, tears did run down his cheeks, in so much pain and misery that the response was unsurprising.

This time Jack barely resisted as the cube was placed against his lips, its edge forced past his teeth as the Cybertronian lifeblood flowed into him. He had to swallow or be forced to choke again, the instance seeming to last forever until, finally, it stopped.

He was dropped to his knees again, though this time he did not bother to catch himself, collapsing to the ground in an exhausted, destroyed heap. His body shuddered, and a part of him realized he was getting energon all over himself by laying on the floor.

Digits went through his raven hair, forcing his head and the rest of his body up. A sponge cleaned his face, and what had dripped down his neck and chest, and the rest of the solvent was thrown to the floor in a messy, lazy method of cleaning it. Of course the lord of the Decepticons would not bend down and clean it himself, though Jack was a little surprised he did not make him do it for his own twisted amusement.

"Soundwave will be monitoring you very closely," the dictator said, his digits lightly scraping down the human's cheek. "Though I have been assured your body will accept the energon, it is still speculation on Shockwave's part. I believe he would have not been so confident if he had any inkling you may perish from the experience."

"He sounds like a psychopath," Jack spat, trying to get the tingling sensation on his tongue to stop. "What are you going to do if my body goes into shock? Leave me here to die? You said you don't want anyone but you to take care of me."

Megatron just gave him an amused grin. "If it is between life or death, I will send your broken body to one of your hospitals. However, I very much intend to keep my promise to its fullest possible extent."

Deadly sharp points touched his chin, forcing him to look up at those horrible, merciless optics, red as the blood that poured from Jack's wounds.

"And until you call me master, you will endure whatever creative torment I can conceive," he said, sounding far too excited for Jack's taste. "Ratchet will never be your saving grace. He is loyal to me, and me alone. Unless you swear the same, all he will ever do is see you. He will not rescue you."

"Does he know what you're doing to me?" Jack hissed. "Or are you keeping him in the dark, just like you did about Arcee's death?"

Megatron gazed at him, taking a rare pause. Something glimmered behind his optics, and Jack felt cold ice wrap around his veins.

"He will come to understand my methods," he said, only partially avoiding the question. "As you must be punished for your crimes against the Decepticon cause. But, once you have paid your dues, you will come to understand my intentions as well."

"You're delusional if you think you can brainwash me," the human snarled.

Megatron merely laughed. He bent down, cupping his chin further into his dangerous servo.

"On the contrary," he purred. "You will soon come to find that your beliefs are nothing but lies, lies fed to you by the Autobots."

"Sure thing, master," Jack spat at him sarcastically.

An amused smile ghosted across his face. "Close, but not quite."

He dropped Jack's face, the tyrant stepping behind him before returning to his full height. Jack mewled in agony as his arms were yanked back up, and he swore Megatron made them tighter than before.

Sharp servos picked up the empty containers.

"Enjoy your solitude."

With that final, resounding word Jack was left in silence, closing his eyes. The dim cell provided little light or comfort to his aching body, and as the quiet settled in once more he let out a small sob. Then another, and another, until finally he just exploded into uncontrollable tears.

He was in pain, he was miserable. He just wanted this to end.

Frustrated, warm tears trickled down his cheeks. He almost wanted to give in just to make this stop. To play along until he was given to Ratchet and allowed to just live without pain.

And yet, he knew he could not. There was too much risk involved, and he was terrified that he would eventually come to believe what he was told.

On the other side of the ship, Megatron watched the human sob and eventually scream from Soundwave's personal communications room, Shockwave's helm displayed on another screen, the scientist observing through videofeed on Cybertron.

"It seems your hypothesis was correct," the dictator rumbled to his scientist. "His body has not rejected the energon."

"Originally I believed it would be the blood of Unicron he would take well," Shockwave pointed out, "as the human species hails from the Chaos Bringer, it would be most logical to assume they are compatible with his lifeblood."

"Indeed, but he would have been much more resistant, and after the . . . tragedy of one of his smaller companions, I was reluctant to use Dark Energon."

Soundwave glanced at his master. He had his own personal doubts, and had no taste for his master's insistence to personal torment the organic. They had subordinates for such a task, as it served only as a distraction away from the war. However, he was not one to question Megatron's judgement, because the logic behind the human's torture was solid.

It was to keep Ratchet in line. If Megatron obtained control over Jack, whatever resistance the medic had would be gone, because he cared about the human. He had a soft spot for the insect. And, as he had easily heard, Megatron informed Ratchet he would gift the human to him. Then, the medic would be indebted to him.

"That explanation . . . is logical," Shockwave finally decided. "I recommend continuing with this type of treatment. Assuming his body does not attempt to reject the energon."

"He appears to be doing well," Megatron said, casually ignoring Jack's wails. "Should his body adapt to the energon, will he require other nutrients?"

"The human diet is complex," Shockwave acknowledged. "He may need supplements in order to maximize his efficiency; however, energon is able to sustain us, and we are arguably more complex. It is most logical to assume he may adapt to the energon and become exclusively dependent on it, similarly to how you and the medic exclusively consume Dark energon, or a mixture. With more and more energon in his system, it may become the one thing he can ingest."

"Then his maintenance will be further simplified, and that is all I require," Megatron's reply was cold, perhaps even calculated. "Thank you for your input, Shockwave. You are dismissed."

The screens went black as the scientist signed out, leaving only Megatron and Soundwave in the dim communications room. The third in command glanced to his superior.

"Not to worry, Soundwave," Megatron assured his silent inquiry. "The human mind is fragile, and easily malleable. Once he has fully broken under our hospitality, then he will be given to his new master, and Ratchet will further fall under my control."

The silent Decepticon nodded, accepting the explanation. His master knew best, and he would not question him further. Of course the plan make sense, and of course it would work. There was nothing but victories in their wake; even the minor setback of Cyclonus' capture was not enough to deter them. The Autobots would be defeated, once and for all.