Butterfly.

A/N: Written for a Russian Valentine-fest.

Disclamer: Don't own, just took them to play. Hasbro, Bay and all the other foul beast own them.

Warning: Slight OOC, violence, rape.

A butterfly. A useless organic being, commonly seen on Earth. Shockwave ony knew they existed because Soundwave mentioned them in one of his reports. The guardian of Cybertron couldn't care less about butterflies.

And then, during an Energon shipment, he arrived, a transformer so much like a butterfly. His red chevron looked like the antennae of the insect. His doorwings shook, showing his fear, so much like the wings of a butterfly. And for some unclear reason, the bluish gray color of his armor reminded Shokvejv of the skies of planets far away. How illogical, thought the Decepticon. A butterfly-autobot.

"Butterfly." He said out loud. " Resistance is futile".

"The name's Bluestreak, not Butterfly and I won't surrender, no way…"

Shockwave shot him, not a full-powered blast, but just enough to knock the Autobot down. Immediately, the illogical fear that Bluestreak might flutter his wings and fly away vanished from the supposedly emotionless spark of the guardian of Cybertron, replaced with a strange, warm feeling.

Now that the butterfly couldn't fly away, Shockwave could finally take in his looks more closely and touch his doorwings. Under his fingers, the glass of the doorwing shattered, and the Decepticon mentally berated himself for forgetting how fragile the wings of a butterfly were and damaging their beauty.

Never before did Shockwave resent his design, but now he out right hated it. He couldn't taste the honey of fear that flowed from those blue optics, he couldn't feel the internal warmth of his butterfly with both hands, couldn't hold him tight without crushing him. But he could get to know the very essence of the winged treasure, and he saw no reason to deprive himself of that pleasure.

Shockwave's interface unit was far from being a pin, yet it was the way he chose to pin the butterfly to his berth. The Autobot shook with pain, but no sound came from his mouth, vocalizers shortened by sheer agony. Which was right, because according to what Shockwave knew, butterflies had no voices. The monstrous device twisted inside the unstretched port, tearing down the protective covers. Bluestreak wanted to beg for mercy, or at least some gentleness, for it was his first time, but his vocoder only released static noise. Finally, Shockwave stiffened and overloaded, crushing his victim under his weight in the process, knocking him out into a merciful stasis.

Shockwave onlined slowly, with his park filled with a previously unknown feeling of utter bliss. And the first word to form in his processor was "butterfly."

A butterfly. A fragile, precious butterfly, which took away Shockwave's loneliness. The Decepticon wanted to keep the winged joy, but he understood the impossibility if the option. So he carefully carried his captive to the space bridge.

"Fly away, butterfly." He said.

Bluestreak gave him an unbelieving look.

"If you stay, the others might want to take you away from me and you'll die. Your colors will fade and you'll never fly again. I can't allow that. Fly away."

Still unable to believe his sensors, Bluestreak took a step forward and vanished in a whirlwind of energy.

"Butterfly." Whispered Shockwave. "How illogical."

The End.