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Megatron hated anesthesia. Surrendering himself to the darkness of stasis was something he despised on principle, but in this case it was necessary. He was still too weak to withstand the strain he could normally endure during surgery, despite being able to walk around the medbay unassisted. He had to do it slowly, felt like his joints were rusting in place, but he could do it.

This had been the terms his surgeon had set, and now finally, as he slowly came back online, Megatron flexed his own digits again. He brought them up to optic level the moment he was able. Still claws, but once again his claws, thick and strong and silver, free of Unicron’s grime. The rest of him remained as yet unchanged, still too-tall, the wrong shape and color. Fixing everything at once would be too traumatic to his system; multiple procedures would be needed to get his frame back. Singer had offered to start with his helm, with his chest plating or the distinctly Chaotic spiked pauldrons, but Megatron had insisted on getting rid of those terrible hands first.

The one he held now to the light had held the world in its palm… so much better than the one that had nearly ripped it apart.

He’d been surrounded by friends and loved ones during his recovery, but only feeling the familiar way his digits moved made him start to feel like himself again.

[Pingity Ping Ping, Pa-Ping, Ping, Ping]

heligooddeals:

mightymegatron:

The pings wake Megatron, but seeing who they’re from he forgets to be irritated, answering the urgent message.

::Blackguard, what’s happened?::

[: UHHH… :] Guess who didn’t stop to think about the fact the ship’s built in comm systems is connected to Blackguard, and thus all out-going calls will register as her even if it’s not really her?

This idiot.

He can salvage this moment though. Maybe.

[: Nooo.. Blackguard actually isn’t here right now. A thing has happened though so she’s kind of.. Um.. Out right now. It’s cool though. We got it under control. We’re all good.

[: S’up with you, o’ Megatron-Rigel? :]

Megatron-Rigel? What… his voice returns, the harsh and demanding tone that commanded legions. ::Who are you? Tell me what has become of her and Rigel. Do not toy with me. ::

The warlord immediately gets up, bracing himself against the berth. “Singer! Get me a ground bridge to the following coordinates-”

“N-no!

The little vehicon shivers, but plants himself in front of the mountainous warlord. "Ground bridges are shifting vortices of energy, and you have been too weak to even stand for more than ten kliks at a time! Without testing you-” Megatron’s glare makes him jump, but he doesn’t move. “-I can’t let you subject your field to potential trauma!”

🗝 + Unicron

He is energy. Something that has to go somewhere, has to transfer and flow and spread. A sentient disease that cannot be destroyed, only shifted into another form. 

No one seems to understand this. I didn’t understand it! Not until the first time my goals did not align with his. I was a part of it, part of him and I fought so hard every time he reminded me of that… 

My determination preserved my sanity, and some semblance of freedom, but there was no cure. I accepted this more easily than any of my allies who kept searching for one because I could feel it and they could not. I could hear him with my very being! And they could not. I knew from the moment I disobeyed him that I was doomed if I faltered an inch.

I faltered. They claim to have him contained now, and though I can’t hear or feel any trace of him left I know. It’s foolish to believe that you can stop a supernova. He will find any way he can to spread… 

The best that we can do is prepare for when he does. I will still fight when he returns, harder now that I know what Unicron is. I am intimately familiar with the odds.

I’ve beaten worse.

( Which part of Soundwave is Laserbeak? It all looks the same to Bee, but he kisses his fingers and ‘puts’ a smooch on what he hopes is Laserbeak before scampering away to sleep on Megatron again. )

Laserbeak lets out a binary ‘chirp’ of surprise as Bee brushes one of his wing edges, but remains settled and calm. No one dares touch him when he’s docked safely in his carrier; Soundwave wouldn’t allow it! But… this is acceptable. Another burst of noise is his thank you. 

Smiling from his berth, Megatron lets Bee use his servo as a blanket.

A message soon follows. ::That was meant to be a line break. It isn’t done yet.::

 willnotgogently:

 mightymegatron:

willnotgogently:

Laughing softly, Rung hugs himself. :Well then, I look forward to it’s entirety.:

Megatron doesn’t answer right away, thinking on what he’s just proposed. He’d never asked anyone for such a thing, though he had absolutely opened himself to others. Always, it had been a choice in a moment of passion, or a medical necessity. Never had he had the foresight nor any desire to… request vulnerability.

::Yours, if I’m cleared for travel. Here…:: Megatron was certain no one had consciously revealed his location, but more vehicons had been asking, and his political rivals had been strangely quiet. ::I do not yet have enough faith in my surroundings. I would rather be somewhere comfortable.::

::If I could be sure of the surroundings a bit more, I wish I could take you to the Pious Pools to do this… it would be terribly romantic, but it’s a bit too open.  None of the buildings are repaired and even if there’s rarely anyone there, I wouldn’t want to take the chance of someone walking in on something so delicate between us.:: 

Rung sighs softly.  If it had been a few million years ago, they could have done that though… They might have even asked permission to have a room at one of the temples to dedicate themselves for the night.  But he could make do.  Tacitus did have an aweful lot of crystals after all.  And with some mirrors and lights set up in just the right fashion… maybe some see through gauze like curtains…

::But my home can be lovely too, I promise.  I’ll make it look just right for us.  Comfortable and safe.::

Megatron lets his laughter transmit over the channel. Rung is just as concerned for their privacy as he is. There goes the warlord’s final trepidation.

::As long as you are there, it will be beautiful, Rung. I won’t be able to see anything else.::

( Bee’s over to hang out! He sets up his sleep spot on the corner of Megatron’s medical bed. )

the-scrappy-stinger:

mightymegatron:

the-scrappy-stinger:

mightymegatron:

Megatron is comfortably sitting up, reading as Laserbeak perches on his shoulder. The servo that isn’t holding his datapad is rubbing Bee’s back with the back of one of his claws.

“Your visits are something I look forward to, even when I’m not in dire peril.”

Yeah, I gotta start coming over when your life isn’t in jeopardy. Make it a weekly thing. “(X) weeks since someone tried to kill me” parties. 

(He’s putty on that bed, though. He rolls with the claw.) 

“Heh. Perhaps.” Although Megatron had been the one in danger, it was good to see his friend relaxed again. He leaves the datapad open for Laserbeak to continue reading, but his attention is on Bee. “It will be nice to stop putting you through so much.”

I wouldn’t be your friend if I couldn’t handle it. (He’s mostly biding his time until Megatron lies down so he can sleep on his chest.) Besides, if I go through something weird, you’ll have my back too. 

(He rolls over so his full weight is on Megatron’s claw.) Figuratively and literally!

Laserbeak chitters something quick and quiet, dropping off Megatron’s shoulder to circle around Bee’s helm. He touches down on it just barely before zipping back over to Soundwave’s sleeping form, docking into the slot of his chest for recharge. Megatron chuckles, wiggling his claw and putting away his datapad.

“He concurs. Laserbeak approves of you as a fellow minicon.”