TF: Hope

[wildernesstales]

Rating: PG-13
Series: G1
Pairings: Possibly Megatron/Ratchet
Summary: Without hope he was lost.  He had that one thing to cling on to.
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: As per usual, the good things in life are not mine to have, but belong to someone else... in this case Hasbro, Takara and IDW and anyone else I’ve forgotten…
Authors Notes: For the tf_speedwriting  Wednesday 29th September, prompt 5 – “Hope is the mother of all men.” Lt Anderson, Halls of Montezuma.  And still with the original titles.
Feedback makes friends.  Flames dealt with by the masters of paranoia and fire, Red Alert and Inferno.
Prompt: 5
Time: 12 minutes.  They’re getting shorter and shorter!  (and it’s getting later and later!)
 

Ratchet stared forlornly around the room.  Megatron’s personal quarters.  Their personal quarters.  Ever since that accident and the subsequent procedure to separate their bodies.  He knew the Autobots hadn’t forgotten about him.  He hoped they hadn’t forgotten about him.  It was the only thing he had that kept him going.

The door slid open and Ratchet’s optics narrowed as Megatron stepped through.
“Still hoping for rescue?” The warlord chuckled, coming to kneel in front of Ratchet.  The medic was chained to the wall and had been for days now, ever since his last attempted escape.  No matter how many times Megatron told him that he wasn’t going to be rescued, that the Autobots were carrying on without him, he didn’t want to believe it.  Even though he could feel the truth through the phantom bond they shared.
“Frag you.” He growled, shying away from Megatron’s outstretched hand as it reached towards him.  But there was nowhere he could move, and Megatron’s hand settled against his cheek, cupping it tenderly in a mockery of a lover’s caress.
“Hope is such a fragile thing.” Megatron crooned.  “I shall break your hope, just as I have broken your spark.”