Ch.17 The Ones Who Had Made Him

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OOOOOOOHHHH GET PUNKED. Only one chapter? Yeah, you thought. Get two chapters, stupid-heads. Merry holidays! Happy 2023!

Also my Husband had to hear literally all 8 rewrites of this one chapter, so please everyone, thoughts and prayers for him. No, seriously, I struggled deeply with this one, you guys have no idea. I rewrote this from scratch so many times. I'm very happy with it, but perhaps only for the fact it is now done, and I may rest. Jk, of course. I rest when this fic is finished, or when it kills me.

HAVE A GREAT NEW YEAR. You all are the best!

Sorry for calling you stupid-heads earlier ( ˘˘з) <3

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~~~Back to your Regularly Scheduled Programming~~~

Cautiously, I stepped from the door and into the open space. Cells lined the walls and all my doubts evaporated. This was absolutely the Brig.

The cells extended in both directions, I was almost certain I could see the end in the distance but the gloomy red light made it difficult to say. I scratched absentmindedly at the bandages on my arm, the skin underneath felt itchy and hot. My arm had been bothering me a bit more than the other cuts. Above me, the ceiling was vaulted with sharp angles, and rectangular red-tinted lights were spaced evenly. I could only wonder why so much thought had been put into the design of this place, and not the many hallways this ship seemed to have in great excess.

I made sure I was alone, and then carefully I approached a cell. Bloody-looking stains, burnt splotches of metal—yeah, the crimson glow really accented all the neat details. I squinted; no way those stains were actual blood, right? Right?

The cells seemed fairly identical. They were large, squarish, and separated by thick walls. The only decor within each one was a single slab extending from the wall. Comfy. I spotted a few indents on the walls too, they suspiciously looked like ideal places to chain something, or someone, up. I saw no chains though. It wasn't like they were in any short supply of metal around here, so maybe that was a good sign?

Bars extended from the ceiling down to the floor, so close together that I didn't even think I could slip through them, but the desire to test this theory really wasn't there. The scratching sounds continued on and off, separated by more loud crashes.

I began my long walk toward the angry sounds. It was colder here. Were these humane conditions? Just the thought of being thrown in a place like this made me shiver. What sort of things did robots need though? Maybe being given a blank slab was considered generous? It certainly wasn't for humans.

I passed cell after empty cell. Would I have been spending my time here if Misdirect had not found me? The real sobering thought was whether or not I'd be joining Ravage if I got caught. Just don't get caught. Simple. I should have been hurrying, but I felt unable to move faster than a brisk walk. Bruised knees and wobbly legs aside, being here felt wrong, plus its creepy atmosphere and long echos were really starting to get to me, I found myself peeking over my shoulder every few seconds. I squeezed Melody's badge again. What would dad think of me when he found out about the mess I've caused? Maybe I was looking at everyone's future right now: the last of humanity withering away within these dirty gloomy cells.

Optimus had been kind. Everyone had been kind. It felt like a betrayal of trust, being here after all they'd done for me.

Some cells didn't have bars at all and instead had huge heavy doors, sealing off their contents completely. Despite myself, I lingered before these massive structures. Who would need this much security? Another loud crash made me flinch and I decided I actually didn't want to know that answer. I was definitely getting closer to the source of the noise. I picked up the pace. It didn't seem like the Autobots were keen on locking people up, could I also take that as a reassurance?

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