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Chapter 27:Someone please wake him up

Drip.

 

"In a society built around a grand Cybertronian taxonomy that is obsessively revised and reinterpreted, the one thing that never changes-the one that must never change-is the system itself."

 

Drift stared up at nothing. Mind numb, frame numb, paralyzed with a terror pulsing deep in his spark.

 

Drip.

 

"Every revision, every reinterpretation takes place within a rigid framework of social stratification. Nothing must threaten the Functionists’ core philosophy: utility as an organizing principle."

 

Clawed digits ran along his finial, twirling and tracing grooves. Gentle caresses.

 

Drip.

 

"If you could step outside the system you would recognize it for what it is: a prison. Worse that that-" The hand pulled away from his finial, taking to Drift's face instead. "it is a prison full of willing prisoners."

 

Drip.

 

Searing pain tore straight through his spark. The resulting cry came out muffled and muted, cut short by claws digging in harshly.

 

"And not only are you a prisoner within the system, you are a prisoner within your own body."

 

Drift gave another muffed cry as the voice tore into him. His frame shook with attempted heaves, unable to vent properly. Panic and realization hit at the same time, causing him to gag on the brain module shoved roughly in his mouth.

 

"Forgive me, Deadlock," Clawed hands pulled his helm to face the tank. "for assuming you haven't been listening all this time. You wouldn't want me to have to start over, would you? I personally don't mind, I'm sure you're aware of my devotion to Megatron's writing. But you on the other hand," Tarn leaned in close as he cupped Drift's face. "you don't seem to be very comfortable. So it would be a shame to undo all the progress we've made, wouldn't it?"

 

Drip.

 

Hot magma shot through his spark once again, ripping another garbled wail from his intake. Drift was in a panic. Choppy vents overtook his frame as he struggled, pulling and yanking desperately. Thick metal bands stopped him, pinning his limbs down to the slab beneath him.

 

"Deadlock, really. I thought we've been through this. You're not getting out of those." Tarn loomed over him, red optics peering through slits in his mask.

 

His processor raced, spark pulsing out of control. This wasn't right. It couldn't be right. He shouldn't be back here. It was supposed to be over, safe-

 

He was back on the Lost Light, wasn't he? Yes, he had to be. This was a memory. A dream. It wasn't real.

 

And now that he's realized it, that means he had to wake up soon. Drift shuttered his optics, trying to focus, block it all out, will himself to wake up.

 

Drip.

 

Optics shot open as Drift heaved and lurched on the slab.

 

"Fascinating." Tarn leered over him, observing the tube hanging just over his chest. Over his exposed spark.

 

"And it wasn't even acid that time." He flicked at it, sending the next drip down and getting another spasm from Drift.

 

"It's a marvel, isn't it? The processor. It learns from your most extreme experiences, and in an attempt to protect you,"

 

Drip.

 

"now everything is a threat."

 

Drift barely held back his flinch. It wasn't acid. It wasn't acid.

 

It wasn't real. None of this was real. He needed to wake up.

 

"Of course, who's to say how well it serves you there." Tarn tapped at Drift's brain module, still stuck in his mouth, before yanking his hand back in disgust. "If Helex would stop playing with it already. He was supposed to come put it back where he found it hours ago now."

 

Drift's finials slanted back as he caught the sound of distant pedesteps. Heavy pedesteps.

 

"Ah. There he is. That'll be a mark on his report for extreme tardiness." Tarn muttered quietly to himself as he turned away from Drift.

 

Terror gripped his spark. He had to wake up. Someone please wake him up.

 

With a renewed energy, Drift resumed his attempts to break free- pulling, yanking, tugging. Metal cut into metal, arms shredded, throbbing and slick with energon, he still didn't stop, couldn't stop.

 

Tarn was saying something unintelligible. Drift didn't stop. He kept going, not caring about anything else at that point.

 

A hand yanked the tube over his spark and everything went white.

 

Drift could hear it. Distant. Faint. Muffled.

 

The shrieks. Horrible screeching that could never have come from him. For a moment he pretended it wasn't. That was someone else. Not him.

 

It wasn't real. He would wake up any moment, Ratchet by his side, hand warm in his own. He still remembered Ratchet. That's all that mattered. It would be alright.

 

And then he was back, the sound of his own choked screams piercing his audials. Fresh waves of agony pulsed from his spark with each passing moment, spreading throughout his frame. Unbearable, excruciating, burning agony. Burning. Burning-

 

All manner of thought was gone, except for that one sliver remaining that hoped this would kill him.

 

The hand released the tube, and with it, stopping the stream of acid straight into his spark chamber.

 

Drift continued thrashing, frame caught up in a flood of terror and pain that wouldn't release him. His chassis heaved with sobs caught behind his own brain module. They stood over him, watching him wheeze pathetically, in a struggle to cycle air. Humiliation burned through his lines with each agonizing breath. He wanted to kill them.

 

"Enough of your ridiculous game. Put your toy back where it belongs."

 

"Aw, c'mon. I just wanna see if he'd do it."

 

"I already told you-"

 

"I know, I know. Don't want his punishment to end early. I'm getting it."

 

Helex leaned in close and Drift couldn't stop the violent shudders now wracking his frame. Optics refusing to shut, forcing him to stare straight ahead, wide-eyed at the monster looming over him. Helex plucked the brain module right from his mouth, turning it about in his hand, amused as he watched Drift shiver beneath him.

 

"Aww. See, look how scared he is."

 

So many angry retorts on the tip of his glossa, insults left brewing in the back of his mind, ready to spew out. But they all died before leaving his intake, drowned out in a deep exhaustion. Memories of those very outbursts, the fleeting spark of satisfaction they brought him. And the heaps of agony that followed.

 

He wondered when it was that he'd lost the will to fight back, when he let the pain win. As if his whole life hadn't been full of it already. As if it wasn't something he'd grown to seek out, believing he deserved it. He wondered when it became so much that someone who had clawed their way out of hell itself gave up on surviving.

 

"Maybe I am." Drift barely forced the words out, his voice weak, but still hanging on. "But it's you who should really be scared."

 

"Oh really? That's cute coming from someone in your position."

 

The idiocy of speaking this to the one currently rolling his brain module between their fingers was not lost on him. Still, Drift couldn't seem to stop himself now.

 

"You can do whatever you want to me. Just know that when it's all said and done… I'll be the one outliving you." Whether he truly wanted to be at this point was irrelevant.

 

"Will you now?" Helex chuckled and Drift could feel the building pressure on his brain. He barely held back the fuel creeping up his intake. "Something tells me that's not going to be the case."

 

"Your blasted internals painted on the walls of your own ship tell me otherwise. I know what I saw. And I only wish it was me that did it." He was really digging himself in now. Still, he went on, glaring directly at Tarn as he spoke. "Your beloved Megatron gave you your purpose, but when he takes it away? You run like a coward, Tarn. All that waxing poetic and you can't even manage to kill your last target. And you never will."

 

Drift took in a shaky vent as he shuttered his optics. "This is a dream. A memory. It's not real. You're not real."

 

The silence stretched on, uncomfortably so, and for a moment Drift thought maybe he'd done it, maybe he'd woken up. Until he opened his optics to find Tarn mere inches from his face, silence taking on a dangerous edge now.

 

"Not real?" Tarn chuckled to himself.

 

Hands cupped his face. "That felt nice, didn't it? You got to say everything you wanted, did you? All the things you wished you could've said in the moment, but couldn't fit in around all the begging and crying."

 

Tarn dug his claws in harshly. "Tell me, Deadlock. Does this feel real to you? Does it? Have you been playing up your reactions just for little old me? I'm flattered. Really, here I was thinking perhaps this was too much for you to handle. But I'm pleased to hear that isn't the case. Clearly we need to up our game, hm?"

 

The relief of his face being released was short lived.

 

"Helex, be a dear and put that back. I changed my mind. We'll try your little experiment."

 

Drift barely held back his sob as the horrid taste of metal and energon found its way back into his mouth.

 

"I think he might actually do it this time."

 

The tank stepped into his narrow field of vision. "I'm surprised he didn't do it already, from that performance he just gave before." A single clawed finger brushed his cheek, wiping away tears still trailing down his face.

 

He wanted to kill them.

 

Suffering vents were impeded by his own brain module. Drift flexed his jaw and realized the contraption used to hold it open wasn't there this time.

 

He could end this.

 

"We need some motivation for this to be accurate." The tube was grabbed again and the panic from that alone nearly had Drift offlining entirely before another hand grabbed his face. "Remember this?"

 

Drift stared at where it hung limply in front of his face, his spark spinning, racing out of control.

 

"How about we play a little game? Thirty seconds from now, I'm gonna pull it." The tube shook back and forth in his grasp.

 

Drip.

 

Drift cried out, a garbled noise, full of static and blocked by his own processor that couldn't even tell what was acid and what wasn't anymore. He tugged frantically at his restraints in one last move of desperation, hoping that they would somehow give out, until the hand gripping his face tightened, forcing Drift to stop, staring up frozen in fear.

 

"Thirty seconds. I'm pulling it. You can either spit that out and give some better screams for our audience," Helex jerked his thumb back towards the recording device just behind him. "or you could opt out of the game entirely." His teeth clacked together, as if to demonstrate. "But don't bite down too hard. I still want my turn with it."

 

Drift was already hyperventilating.

 

"What do you say, Tarn? Think he'll do it?" The hand stayed on his face, turning it side to side, observing as he struggled to vent. Coolant bubbled up and streamed down Drift's face. He couldn't do this again. Please not again.

 

"There was a point where I would've said no, he'd grit and bear through it. Megatron himself would only pull the fiercest spark of a survivor out of those depths of hell in Dead End." Tarn peered down at him through the openings in his mask. "But I think we all know the answer to that now."

 

There was no more time to think about it. No one was coming to save him.

 

"Tsk tsk. Fifteen seconds left, Deadlock. What'll it be? Time's running out." Helex played with the tube in his hand. "And if you leave it in your mouth, I'll leave the acid running in your spark. You gotta play the game right this time."

 

If he bit down, that would force him to wake up. It had to. He's done this before. When the dream gets bad, put the lights out. And if it's not a dream… well, there's nothing more for him here anyway. It didn't matter what they said.

 

As if he cared that Tarn was right.

 

"Five seconds." Helex sang with a smile.

 

Drift shuttered his optics.

 

"Three."

 

It would be alright.

 

"Two."

 

He'd wake up and Ratchet would be right by his side.

 

"One."

 

Drift bit down.

 

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