Transformers Movie Verse AU
Megatron X Optimus Prime
Rated for plot and character death.
He blinked, touching his raw throat. He couldn't remember but it felt like he had been screaming. Dismissing the odd sensation, he focused on what was around him. He found that he couldn't remember anything and yet he didn't feel a sense of panic like he thought he should. The image before his optics was currently swimming so he turned his focus from the lack of memory to trying to clearly see what was before him.
The image sharpened into things that he recognized and could name but that didn't mean it made sense. Definitions were not forthcoming with the names. With a groan, he rolled onto his side.
The startled yelp was embarrassing but he was sure anyone would have yelped all the same when coming face to face with a severed head. Actually, now that he looked more closely, he felt he should remember something about said severed head but it was like fishing through air for invisible fish. He stood up. His legs shook but, other than that, he seemed undamaged. Strange. He couldn't shake the feeling that he should be damaged. Dismissing the feeling, he looked around. The place he was in was rundown but he did seem to recognize it. Headquarters came to mind but he had no idea what that meant in relation to himself.
He started down the way he was facing. It was rather fascinating, whatever this place was. There was damage everywhere, like there had been a fight or something. Forms littered the hallway he walked and a sticky substance covered the floor. Energon flittered in to name it but it held no meaning to him. Stepping over a rather large mound of bots, he felt a wave of sadness. He knew what death was. That seemed to be one of the few things he actually knew the meaning of and it was clear that all the bots in the hallway were dead. He wondered what had happened here to cause so many to die such gruesome deaths. He shuddered and quickly changed his mind. Whatever it had been had left him untouched and he was very keen on keeping it that way.
He wandered on, stepping over more dead as he went. The numbers seemed to have steadied out to a constant by the time he reached the first open door. He looked in and frowned. There were dead all over the place, a small handful draped over anything that would support their weight. A few looked like they were lying on the remains of the things that were supporting others. He stepped around one of the dead lying in the doorway, a gaping hole through the chest and an arm missing. Again, a wave of sadness washed through him.
Moving around, he avoided touching any of the dead as best he could. It wasn't so much out of disgust as it was out of some sense of respect. He didn't mind. He could maneuver just fine without needing to disturb any of them.
He came across something that drew his attention instantly. It was an odd metal strip with identical claws coming out of either end. He picked it up, curious. Why would a strangely shaped piece of metal draw his attention? The answer didn't come and he tucked the odd metal strip onto his person, deciding to ponder it later.
Finding nothing more in the room, he maneuvered his way out and farther down the hall. The more distance he covered, the less dead he found till there were no more to be seen. He smiled gently. Maybe that meant he would find some that were actually alive.
He wandered around. At one point, he realized he was going in circles. Though what had prompted this realization, he doubted he would ever figure out. He started marking the wall and, eventually, he found some stairs and went down. A large 2 was on the first door he came to. He frowned. That 2 was important but he didn't know why. He moved to push the door open but stopped before his hand touched the metal. No, he needed to go down. Nodding his head in determination, he continued down the stairs. He wasn't sure why he needed to go down but he went with it. There wasn't a door but an arch way was open to him and he smiled gently. This felt better. He continued his marking as he went, enjoying the walk. He came across some scattered dead, had to even jump over one dead that took up the whole hallway. It was promising that there were so few this way.
A gentle, cool breeze drifted towards him. The air smelt pleasant, sweet even, and he happily followed the breeze. It wasn't like there was anything else to follow. The wall on his right dropped back, formed by windows that had been long since blown in. He walked over to the metal frames, touching the framework tentatively. He wondered what it would have looked like in its prime.
He froze. Prime. Why did that ring through his mind as if he was supposed to remember another meaning? What was so important about the word prime? He tried to think of what was so important but it never came to him. Dejected, he stepped through one of the frames and out into the open. He looked around, seeing more dead. He walked across the way to a pool of water that had a damaged statue in the middle of it. He touched the surface of the water, watching it ripple from the disturbance.
Nothing. He couldn't remember anything about the dead, about what had happened to him, or about either the odd strip of metal on his person or the word prime. He leaned on the edge of the stone pool and looked in. His reflection was distorted a bit by the ripples but he could see clearly enough to know he didn't recognize his own face. Optimus prime filtered through his head but it held no meaning. He wondered if that went with his face but it didn't seem like it was that specifically. He wondered if it was his name and there was a sudden surge of glee. That was right, that rang true. His name was Optimus Prime. The glee didn't stay for too long, though. Prime still had more to it but he couldn't remember. Sighing, he straightened, looking around. It was quiet, besides the soft wind. He turned to his right and started walking, content with the path he had chosen.
He followed the road for just over an hour but all he saw was more dead and dark buildings. It was rather depressing now. He kicked a stone in his path and focused on it till he accidentally kicked it too far out of reach. He looked around.
He stopped walking, his face lighting up.
There was a glow coming from one of the windows in the building beside him. He hurried to the door, found it unlocked, and went in.
"Hello?" he called out, his voice echoing off the walls. The hallway he found himself in was dark but, so far, no one was there, dead or alive. He took that as a partial good sign. He called out again, "Hello."
He walked down the hall, taking the stairs when none of the doors showed signs of light. The window had been on the second floor so he hoped the stairs would bring him close to the light. Sure enough, down a side hallway, he found a door with light streaming from the crack underneath it. He hurried forward and tried the door. It was open.
The room was pleasant, well furnished, and homey. Some of the lights were on, casting the room in a nice, warm yellow light that reflected nicely off the light brown paint of the walls.
"Anyone here?" he asked the empty room. There wasn't a reply. Not ready to give up, he tried the other rooms branching off the main one. There was no one in the kitchen and dining room, nor the bathroom or a bedroom. Going to the last door, he took a deep breath and opened the door.
He sighed happily. It was another bedroom and someone was sitting on the berth with their back to him. He smiled, offering, "I'm so glad there's someone else here."
He waited for a reaction, waited for some sign the bot had heard him, but none came. With a light frown, he moved tentatively forward. "Can you tell me what happened here? Why is everyone dead?"
There was no reply, no sign of life and, for the first time in his awareness, he felt fear coursing through his system. He took slow, measured steps towards the mech sitting on the birth. Even at the little sounds that he created there was no reaction, no stirring of life. Determined to figure this out, to get answers, he stepped around to the mech's front.
He turned away and retched. The mech's head – which he had thought had merely been bowed as if thinking or asleep – was nearly gone. It looked like someone had blasted the head away, leaving nothing more than a battered body and the remaining base of the jaw and scull. He shuddered.
He frowned, thinking back on all he had seen. He had seen so much worse when he had been in that first building. He could remember each and every one of those quite well and yet none of those images made him shake in fear and sick with sadness. That was it. The fear and sadness meant something. He looked back at the mech. He had known this mech and had known him well. The injury the mech had sustained was connected to him, he just didn't know how. Getting up, he walked over, forcing himself to take in all the damage in an attempt to remember who this was.
The grief was nearly overwhelming as he looked over the mech's form. He reached out with a shaking hand and placed it over where the spark should be. The metal was cold beneath his hand and there was no pulsing of life beneath it. He gripped the metal, resting his forehead next to his clenched fist when his legs could no longer hold him.
"Megatron," Optimus choked. And it felt right even though the grief seemed to only increase. A strangled sob escaped him as he sank fully to the floor, still maintaining connection with the lifeless form. His spark ached for knowledge of why this mech had meant so much to him and quivered at knowing how this had happened.
There was a shift beneath him and he froze mid sob. Fear swelled within him as he scrambled back and away, narrowly missing the grasping hand. He collided with the wall behind him as he watched in horror as the lifeless form stumbled slowly to its feet. He scrambled to his feet, ducking under the sweeping arms and leaping out the door.
He didn't take the time to close doors behind him. There was no way that was going to help enough to waist the time. With as much noise as the thing was making behind him, he was sure that a closed door would be the world's smallest obstacle. He stumbled as he reached the street before back pedaling a few steps. The bodies that had littered the streets were rising back to their feet. His body shifted forms automatically but his ill informed mind was startled at the sudden transformation. He found that having wheels on the ground was a rather comforting sensation and he peeled out of there in the opposite direction of Headquarters. He knew that if he started in that direction that he was going to run into the hoard from Headquarters eventually. Hopefully this new direction would be better.
He didn't get very far. Something collided with his side and he was sent rolling. Automatically, he returned to the biped form. He ended up sprawled out at the end of the tumble but at least he was able to handle the attack better. It was someone he didn't recognize, which wasn't much of a surprise. But the headless form of Megatron was one he did recognize and did not like the sight of. He had nearly freed himself of the unknown mech when more appeared. He was restrained in a matter of moments, too overwhelmed with too little knowledge. His fear and panic grew as Megatron came to stand before him.
He jerked against his captors as Megatron reached out. There was no hesitation, no sign of actual life as Megatron dug his fingers into Optimus's chest. Optimus screamed as his spark was ripped out of his chest.
Pain caused his body to shudder and optics he hadn't realized had turned off flickered weakly. The image still registered in his pain-riddled mind. There, standing before him, was a headless Megatron holding a dripping, pulsing spark in his claw like grip. He gave one final, feeble attempt at moving only to find himself flat on his face on the ground. He didn't get back up.
"Keep him pinned!"
The shout had been out of sheer reflex. As the mech on the berth thrashed, four others tried to keep him from harming himself more. The episode was much longer than the last and all were panting heavily by the time the ordeal was over. Megatron looked up, locking optics with Ratchet as the episode seem to come to an abrupt end. The old mech looked his age as he looked back. Ratchet turned to Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, quickly ushering them to another task.
Megatron, now left alone at his sparkmate's berthside, leaned heavily against the berth. He gently clenched Optimus's hand, breathing in a broken whisper, "What has you so scared, Beloved?"
His grip on Optimus's hand tightened as the fear over the bond spiked. Megatron gave a frustrated roar, slamming his fist into the wall with all the force he could muster. He knew he had scared most of the occupants in the room but he couldn't bring himself to care. He felt useless and that was the worst thing right now. They had already lost Arcee and her bond to this unknown virus and were losing Soundwave, Ironhide, Bumblebee, Starscream, and countless others to it as time ticked on. Megatron couldn't lose Optimus, not like this.
He brought the hand he held to his lips and kissed the appendage, optics never leaving Optimus's face. He ran a hand over Optimus's forehead, trying to send some comfort over their battered bond. He wanted to fix this, wanted to see Optimus look up at him with weary optics and a happy smile. He wanted his sparkmate whole again.
Optimus's lips started moving and Megatron barely heard the words leaving Optimus over the noise in the room. "Megatron. Megatron, please. Don't." Megatron's spark clenched and his breath hitched. What could the virus possibly have him do to have Optimus begging in such a way? "No. Megatron. No!"
Pain shot through Megatron as Optimus screamed the most spark wrenching, fear inducing scream any of the mechs and femmes in the med bay had ever heard. He vaguely felt his knees slam into the floor as his side hit the med berth, his mind dazed. His hand clenched over his spark chamber as he gasped, losing the only thing that had always been there for the second time in his lifespan.
"No," was a strangled whisper past his lips as several pairs of hands pulled him up.
His mind was shutting down out of shock and someone was yelling at him to focus. Their voice was nothing but noise to him. Optimus was thrashing even harder now, energon leaking from new wounds. Ratchet was barking orders for them to keep him pinned long enough to be sedated but no one could get a good enough hold to pin the Prime down fully. None of this registered, none of this computed. Megatron felt as if the world had stopped turning and darkness was returning to swallow him into nothingness.
Suddenly, Barricade was in his face, looking worse for wear but determined. Megatron focused on him briefly, noting that Barricade was talking, before his attention slipped. Optimus had arched off the berth, optics wide but unseeing, mouth wide with his screams. The screaming – that dreadful screaming – didn't stop as Optimus fell back onto the berth, still desperately trying to get away from them all. Barricade shifted, once more, into his line of sight and Megatron finally felt something in the clawing numbness. Annoyance.
"What," he snapped, though it came out breathy and without any heart. He attempted to glare at the mech. Barricade didn't even flinch and that just pissed Megatron off more. Megatron valiantly ignored the voice in the back of his head that commented about how feeble both attempts to gain such a reaction had failed.
The anger was gone as quickly as it had risen above the numbness and he pressed his hand harder against his spark chamber as his gaze slid back to Optimus. He clenched his jaw, not wanting to share or show his open wound. But a small part of him knew that if he didn't, things were going to get worse. "The connection, our sparkbond, it's gone."
The numbness came back with revenge but Barricade's hand was covering his over his spark in a sudden burst of white hot fire and seemed to keep the numbness back enough for him to register Barricade's words next words. "Don't go deactivating on us before we can save him, Sir. We'll lose him just as we save him if you do."
Megatron locked optics with the mech and saw the understanding and pain in the other's optics. His mind flittered over to Bumblebee. Barricade had grown attached to the little scout after the war but he wasn't sure if they were bonded or not. Megatron sighed, pulling himself from the thoughts and focusing on Optimus as he nodded. Barricade's hand disappeared and the spot he had touched stayed white hot, keeping some of the numbness back. His fist clenched as he saw a mech get thrown by Optimus's fear and pain filled thrashing.
"Make it out of this, Beloved. You have to come back to me," Megatron pleaded too softly to be heard over all the noise. "Please."
Optimus jerked to a stop. For a brief spark beat, it seemed the entire room held its breath. When nothing more seemed to be forthcoming, bots scattered to aid others. In that held breath, Megatron had hoped that his plea had been heard and answered but it was snuffed out as quickly as it had risen. He got up from the berth he was sitting on and stepped to Optimus's side. He ran a hand over Optimus's forehead, watching as his fingers trailed down the Prime's cheek, down his neck, and over his chest to settle over the spark chamber. He leaned over, pressing his forehead over the spark he cherished more than his own. How he wanted to be connected to that spark again.
He wasn't sure how long he was like that. The chaos around him was nothing more than white noise. He buried his fingers into the folds of metal over the spark and gently held on. Optimus twitched under him every so often and Megatron would raise his head to look at his sparkmate each time. When nothing more happened. Megatron returned his forehead Optimus's chest.
Optimus twitched much more violently then the previous times and Megatron pressed down to keep Optimus on the berth. Megatron gritted his teeth, prepared to keep Optimus pinned but the episode didn't start. Megatron stood up. Whether it had been Megatron's pressure or just bad timing, the episode Megatron had thought he had been prepared for lashed out in a fury that was much weaker than the last and Megatron felt a surge of terror at the notion. Bots were there helping pin Optimus down but, as the episode wore on, Optimus thrashed less and less till it dwindled down to the slight twitch of a limb or appendage and then nothing.
This time, there was no hope. They had seen it too many times and the bots around Megatron worked frantically as Optimus's spark faded completely. Megatron's spark seized and he tried to wake his Beloved, tried to get him to look at him once more. He fought the hands that pulled him away others got in his way. He screamed Optimus's name like so many bonded had screamed for their partner and with that scream went all of Megatron's fight and all his will.
The sun was high in the sky, the crisp day pleasant. Mechs and femmes wandered the square, sparklings and younglings playing around the magnificent fountain, some even playing in the cool water. An old mech of grey and black metal smiled gently at the sight of the youngsters playing. He was slightly hunched by age but stood as tall as he could manage. He wandered among the other Cybertronians, returning greetings that were sent his way. He came to a stop at the edge of the fountain and, with some difficulty, sat on the edge. He traced a name in the stone rim of the fountain, memories returning gently with the simple engraving.
"Aren't you supposed to be napping, old mech?" Said old mech looked up to find himself face to face with a grinning little sprite femme in a bright yellow and black paint job that brought back memories. "My dad's not going to be happy with you."
"Honeybee," the old mech offered pleasantly. "I see you have your Grandfather's spirit as well as his paint job."
Honeybee's grin seemed to get larger, though the old mech wasn't sure how that was even possible. "What can I say? He's my idol."
The old mech chuckled, patting the stone wall lacking the name he had been tracing. Honeybee happily plopped down, kicking her legs back and forth in a show of barely contained energy. "Dad says I look more like Grandpa every day."
"Do you believe him?"
Honeybee's grin turned into a sad smile. "I do out of the hopes its true."
The old mech smiled gently. "It is."
Honeybee looked up at him with large optics. It was a brief moment before she grinned again. "I'm glad."
The old mech chuckled, patting the top of her helm. She accepted the affection happily. The old mech moved his hand to her back and gave a gentle shove. Honeybee got to her feet at the prompting, moving a few feet ahead of the old mech before turning to face him. He smiled at her. "Go play while you still can. Once you're an adult, there's no going back."
Honeybee smirked. "That's not what Sunswipe says."
The old mech pointed a menacing finger at her, glaring in good humor. "Do not listen to anything Sunswipe has to say. He is the grandchild of a pair of twins I do not even want to be reminded of."
Honeybee grinned again, bounding off, "Whatever you say, old mech!"
The old mech sighed, before chuckling to himself. A form settled next to the name the old mech had been tracing and the old mech reached out, gently taking hold of a hand he had fought and loved over his too long life. "You're late."
"I got caught up with Blockade."
The old mech arched an opticridge, watching some younglings play tag. "Honeybee's father?"
"Yes." A pleasant silence settled over them briefly. The form beside the old mech shifted closer, leaning against him. "I am pleased we've changed our ways."
The old mech smirked. "Wishing you had a parental bond like the new generations?"
"No," the form stated. The thoughtful frown was audible. "More content with how well the new generations have blossomed with having one."
The old mech shifted enough to look down at the slightly younger mech currently nestled into his side, red and blue paint faded with age. The old mech smiled gently, kissing the other's forehead. "I'm glad we've lived so long to see it."
The other smiled gently, looking down at the stone. He made a face. "If they keep putting my name on memorials, people are going to start thinking I am a figment of their imagination."
Megatron laughed as the image of a smirking Optimus Prime and a perfect world cut to a world of ruin and death for the briefest of spark beats. He pressed his forehead against Optimus's. "We will be with time."
He never noticed the gaping hole in Optimus's chest.