Chapter Text
“Aww, he is so cute,” drawled a voice above him, and Sentinel glared, fists clenching as his optics narrowed, trying to make out the Decepticon who had spoken. The bright light just above the berth didn’t help. His whole body felt weird, and he shuffled uneasily, trying to move away from the cushioned surface he was lying on. However, his moves were unsteady and sluggish, and he barely managed to turn. His processor felt a bit fuzzy, too. It was rather distressing and enraging, because if only he could move… well, he could escape this place and the Decepticons looming around.
“Yes,” someone else said. “Very adorable!”
Sentinel twitched. Damn ‘Cons!
Even now, several orns after it happened, the Prime couldn’t believe the Autobots had fallen, betrayed from the inside by spies and traitors -- not to mention, or so he thought, Optimus’ incompetence in stopping them from using one of the Space Bridges. Oh, he would have words with his former friend if he ever saw him again! But so far, in the prison cell he had been throw in with a bunch of his fellow Elite Guard members, he hadn’t been able to catch a glimpse of the other Prime. Wherever Optimus had been imprisoned himself, it hadn’t been in the same place as most of the Autobots.
After having been beaten, arrested and imprisoned, most Autobots had resigned themselves to be killed off as soon as the Decepticons finished to gloat. They had fully expected their captors to abuse them until the moment they’d eventually decide to snuff their Sparks out. But, to the surprise of the captives, the Decepticons hadn’t mistreated them at all. Actually, they had been… weirdly kind, in a way Sentinel himself found twisted. They had given them plenty of energon and oil to drink, got them blankets and made sure they were… comfortable. But the way they had looked down at them…
Sentinel hadn’t understood what he read in those optics, but it had made him strangely wary. Especially after captives started to get dragged off from their cells… and never came back.
Executions, they all thought, but the ‘Cons had furiously denied it. They had remained vague on what they had done to the other Autobots when asked, just telling the increasingly frantic captives they were being ‘properly taken care of’. Sentinel had snorted. Was it supposed to reassure them? Pacing in his cell, he had been anxiously waiting for his turn to be taken away, knowing it would come soon -- the cells next to his own were starting to empty rather fast.
And earlier… this solar cycle? Yesterday? Several solar cycles ago? it had finally happened. Hands cuffed and gagged, for he had taken the habits to yell at the Decepticons jailers and they hadn’t appreciated it, he had been dragged to a strange lab, where a team of medics and what he supposed were assorted sciencemechs were waiting. Kicking all the way, he had been strapped down to a table, and…
And after that, he didn’t remember. Everything had gone black. The last thing he had heard and felt was a mech patting him on the shoulder and telling him not to worry so much. “It’s alright. Once it’s over, you’ll be much happier. Poor baby…”
Sentinel’s optics narrowed in concentration as he tried to shift again. What was wrong with his body? Was he still under the effects of a sedative or something? He couldn’t think of anything else to explain why he felt so sluggish and his body felt so unresponsive to his orders. With great efforts, he managed to finally turn his head to the side, and he frowned again at what he saw. There were bars before him.
Actual bars.
It made no sense; from the softness under him, he guessed he was lying on a well-padded berth. So why would said berth would be surrounded by bars? It seemed highly impractical to him. Then again, if the berth was designated to keep its occupant prisoner…
“Oh, see? He moved! The little darling is awake!”
“Yes, I saw, I’m not blind, Breakdown,” the second voice from before quipped. Sentinel blinked as a large face suddenly loomed over him, obscuring his vision. “Hi there, little one. Did you have a good nap?”
Good nap? Who did that slagging Con took Sentinel for? The Prime opened his mouth to scream at him, but only some garbled sounds got out of his vocalizer, startling him. He tried again, but the sounds he produced made little more sense. He blinked and felt himself getting angrier. What had these fragging Decepticons done to him?! What sort of experiment had they run on him while he was unconscious? They must have, to have ruined his vocalizer! He started to try and scream, making the Con looking down at him chuckle.
“My, someone is cranky,” he said teasingly. “Oh, baby, don’t be like that! There’s no need to be upset,” he said, smiling down at Sentinel who tried to recoil when a hand went down to pet him. Holy slag, the hand was large! Just how huge was that Con?! As far as he heard, the largest one ever recorded was some freak called Blackout, and the mech looming over him didn’t match the face Sentinel had seen in the profile!
He tensed further when the light of a scan washed over him.
“What do you say, Knock Out? Ten to twelve, right?”
“Hmm, actually, closer to fourteen,” the Decepticon looming over him said as he read the results of the scans. Sentinel looked at him, puzzled. Fourteen? Fourteen what?
“Really? But… but he’s so small!” Sentinel bristled. He wasn’t small! He was even rather tall for an Autobot, thank you very much! He was almost as tall as Ultra Magnus! The Cons were all abnormally tall themselves! There was nothing wrong with the average Autobot’s size!
The Decepticon shrugged. “Autobots are all smaller than normal, you know it. I thought you had seen enough little ones to remember that by now?”
“Yeah… but still…” the other mech mumbled. Another face loomed above Sentinel briefly, and the Prime tensed. This one too was gigantic! Just how many larger than average Cons the Autobots hadn’t known about existed? “That Council… fraggers, all of them. Little ones like this one should never have been…”
“Tell me about that,” Knock Out sighed. “But what’s done is done. Hopefully, we have intervened on time and we can give them a real chance at sparklinghood,” he added, gently patting Sentinel’s helm with his large hand.
Internally, the Prime frowned. Sparklinghood? What was that? He tried to shift and turn again, without much success.
“So, do we send this one down to the crèche to get picked up?” Crèche? Sentinel felt some unease. What were those dirty Cons talking about? And why did he have the sinking feeling he wasn’t going to like it?
“Of course. That’s the normal procedure,” Knock Out’s voice called out. Sentinel tried to yelp when large hands reached for him, but only broken sounds came out of his vocalizer. He wasn’t able to move out of the way before he was grabbed and lifted and then held against a broad chest with infinite caution, feeling dwarfed in the Decepticon’s arms.
That when Sentinel finally realized there was a real problem here. Unless the mech holding him was a Supreme -- and the Decepticons didn’t have that, as far as the Prime knew -- then the fact Sentinel was so little next to him was impossible. On top of that, everything he managed to glance at while the Con walked seemed strangely out of proportion. So… either the world had become bigger…
Or Sentinel had shrunk.
He tried to look down at himself, and for the first time he noticed how… tiny his limbs seemed to be. Optics widening, his lower lip started to shake, and without wanting to, a wail started to escape him. What had those slaggers done to him?!
Knock Out petted him gently and started to rock him in his arms. “Hush, hush baby, it’s alright,” he cooed. “Don’t worry, little one. If everything goes according to plan, before tonight you’ll be home with a brand new Mommy and Daddy to take care of you.”