Oneshot: Berserker - for pjlover

[silberstreif]

Written for pjlover666, when we were both suffering through exams and a hot summer.

Beta: Starfire201 - thank you!
Summary: Megatron finds himself fighting the calm and collected tactician, and tries to break the others selfcontrol...

Berserker

Both sides fought determinedly and ruthlessly. No one wanted to be the first one to call retreat, to give up, because they all knew what was at stake: Jazz, the infiltrator, the TIC of the Autobot army, the bot with the secrets just how to break the Autobot army apart. His capture could bring a turn in the tides of this endless war, maybe even an end. And so the Decepticons did everything to prevent a timely rescue, while the Autobots desperately tried to fight through a wall of metal and will.

Megatron was, as proper of a leader of the Decepticons, at the very frontline of the battle and facing off with the SIC, Prowl, who usually was far behind and only giving tactical advice. It was a grave sign of how bad things were that he was here now, preparing to fight with the Slagmaker himself.

"And where is Optimus, your heroic leader?" smirked Megatron. "Surely he can't be happy that you're fighting me in his stead?"

"He is occupied with Bruticus, as you well know." And it was true. The gigantic mech was only stopped by Prime from destroying the human village a few kilometres further south.

"Do I?" laughed Megatron and attacked, but the SIC stepped quickly aside. "At least he fights. This is more than can be said from your TIC... I have heard you are friends. Are you really? All those Autobots so worried and angry and here you are, his so-called best friend, the only one calm and collected on the whole battlefield!"

Prowl's faceplates tightened, but he didn't answer as he blocked a new attack.

"Do you care about him at all? Or are you a traitor deep within? You know, I have always a position open for bots such as you..."

"I'll never betray Prime," came the sharp reply, together with a few steps back to avoid a lunge.

"Sure, you're saying that now. But what if I make the deal sweeter?" Prowl vented harshly and Megatron laughed. "What about I give you Jazz as a plaything? He would be safe - after the interrogation of course - and no one else of my mechs would have a go at him."

The Praxian's doorwings trembled, but he said nothing.

"What, isn't it enough? You wouldn't save your friend? ... Ah, I see, you would like it more to see him humiliated? On his hands and knees, serving you and every mech that walks past?" mocked Megatron, walking a small circle around the Praxian, who was turning with him, trying to keep him in sight. "Believe me, that will happen. I've heard from bases he's infiltrated, that he's so very good in the berth... a real whore, wouldn't you agree? Surely you already had the pleasure, too? Or did Prime keep him for himself?"

"Be quiet," growled Prowl, his optics glowing, armour vibrating from barely repressed emotions.

"Why? Isn't it the truth? We'll just interrogate him a bit, and then put him into his rightful place – on his knees, between the thighs of my soldiers, moaning -"

Prowl attacked with a scream full of rage. Megatron, not having anticipated this, was too late to avoid the steel grip around his arm and only felt a pull. Unable to process it, he had to watch as his whole arm was torn from its body by a very, very angry Praxian, whose faceplates had lost all reason and sanity. Energon squirted from the wound, pain sensors awoke to full power and long buried survival programs took over. Megatron instinctively jerked to get away, stumbled back and saw the previously angry glowing optics slowly turning white. An uneasy cold feeling seized his spark, one he at first didn't even recognize: Fear.

Stories from a long time ago, whispered in the darkest of orns, swamped his processor. White optics. Unnatural strength. Calm demeanour outside of the battlefield. Merciless, horrible rage, that couldn't be cooled, until everything was drowning in rivers of pink Energon. Berserker.

The SIC was a berserker.

He turned and fled to the sky, where an Autobot couldn't follow, screaming the only correct thing: "Retreat!"

After a brief hesitation his army obeyed, while beneath them a monster roared in anger and promise of destruction.

Megatron shuddered.

~O~

Optimus Prime was the first to reach his SIC. All had heard the scream, but none was sure who it had been, and he was worried, because Prowl didn't answer the comlines. At least Jazz was safe, as the retreat thinned the Decepticon lines enough that a rescue was made possible.

"Prowl? Are you all right?" asked Optimus anxiously as he stepped behind his trusted friend. "Prowl?"

The tactician turned and his light-blue optics rested on his leader for a long moment, then he nodded.

"Here." With a careless movement, he threw the dripping arm against Optimus' breastplate. "The next time you will kill him, or I do it. Understood?"

Optimus could only nod, as he stared with wide optics at the token, the greying body part of his archenemy. So much for the rumour that Prowl was rubbish on the battlefield.

~silber

Comments

[kida-bridger.livejournal.com]

I think i would be running too, even if i were on the same side. lol. Nicely written.

[silberstreif.livejournal.com]

Thanks for the comment. I would run too, a Berserker on the battlefield is just scary. Especially if he just defeated Megatron in five seconds flat. They were all lucky that there wasn't any other bot near Prowl... or this might have ended differently. :)