“I…” Megatron looks more awake than he has in days, standing between his and Soundwave’s beds. He’s still hooked up to everything, but the surgeon is working on the other’s frame.
“I am. Thank you for taking care of that… I can’t exactly leave like this.”
Megatron has finally found his feet again. Singer buzzes nervously at his side, ensuring that the IV’s in his sides stay where they’re meant to be as he steps over to the other large berth in the room. Soundwave’s face is frozen in surprise. It seems wrong to have it uncovered, he wouldn’t have wanted it that way… but Megatron can’t bring himself to look away.
“How dare you, Soundwave…” He goes to cup Soundwave’s face, but freezes at the sight of his unnatural claws, and doesn’t touch him with them. Something feels caught in his chest, and has ever since he first laid eyes on Soundwave’s motionless form. He shakes his helm, digging furrows into the metal of the platform. “You run everything. My oldest and most loyal follower. When the other left it was a betrayal, symbolic… but he was never mine.” The warlord leaned down, touching their crests together.
“You are. How dare you leave me, too…” What is he doing, talking to corpses. There is no point to this. Soundwave is gone. Standing back up, Megatron realizes there is oil on his conjunx’s face. He wipes it off, bothered more that something is marring the surface than that he’s being touched by Unicron’s mark again. He turns away, nearly bumping into Singer by mistake. The vehicon wouldn’t move, staring up at the warlord.
“I’m sorry, sir. I’m so sorry. I had- I remember that you had announced it but… Oh, sir…” Megatron shook his helm, motioning for him to stop.
“Conjunx Endurae, but the dark energon made formal bonding impossible, not that it mattered to either of us. Besides, he still was able to give me-” His optics go wide with realization. The catching feeling in his chest. His claws come up, frantically gouging the armor in places and giving Singer a fright before he finds where Unicron moved his subspace opening. Once he finds it he’s more careful, until he’s finally able to get a grip on and dislodge something delicate.
He removes a glass orb, with a bit of energy dancing inside. Singer can hardly believe his readings when he scans it. “Is that… some of his-?
"Just tell me if it will be enough. Do whatever you have to! …Please.”
Rex immediately pounces the familiar minibot, licking his entire helm. He smells like he got into Megatron’s leftover treat stash. Friend!
MAN you sm- (mouth full of dog tongue) BWAGH!
Least you- (and again) BWLGHL-
(Okay talking’s a bad idea, he’s just throwing the bowl down for Rex to drink out of. He has fish to feed!)
The bowl! His massive head swings around to follow it, letting Bee up off the floor as he bends down to chomp the energon grit, jaw clanging shut with power each time. If he had a tail, it would be knocking things over.
The things with tails all rest at the back of their tank, staring Bee down as he approaches. Sever charges the glass, banging into it with open fangs. It’s at least obvious that one of them is hungry, but then, he just does that sometimes.
Rex immediately pounces the familiar minibot, licking his entire helm. He smells like he got into Megatron’s leftover treat stash. Friend!
He’s only had intravenous energon, the surgeon having to rig him up as he sat on the floor. There was no moving the bulk of his usual body, let alone several tons more. Megatron hadn’t stopped him. He also didn’t remember powering down, but he must have at some point.
“… Like I could sleep another five cycles. No… No movies. You said that you wanted to… talk about something.”
“Me too- me too. We should get some more rest. We all deerve it after all of that.” Smokescreen’s starting to try to check on Megatron, see if there’s anything obviously wrong, rubbing his back.
“Oh! Oh yeah, I was planning on grabbing some materials for Cybertron that I can take care of for you until you feel better- is there anything you need done? And I can get you some nice energon.”
With a frame like his, it’s harder to tell what isn’t wrong. Singer isn’t so frantic in his analysis though, so it’s safe to assume nothing’s gone critical. Was there anything he needed…
“Rex. The Cyberhound. Ensure he’s been fed.” Anything to give him a moment of privacy. Just a few moments; afterwards, he won’t want to be alone with the medic.
He’s only had intravenous energon, the surgeon having to rig him up as he sat on the floor. There was no moving the bulk of his usual body, let alone several tons more. Megatron hadn’t stopped him. He also didn’t remember powering down, but he must have at some point.
“… Like I could sleep another five cycles. No… No movies. You said that you wanted to… talk about something.”
Ever since Megatron disappeared, the ship has been anxious. Rumors have cropped up left and right about where he’d gone, why he’d left, and with Soundwave gone too people were starting to get frantic. There was only so long they could function as a temporary government regime without anyone to check with or answer to. Maybe the pair were away on their honeymoon, Primus knew they needed one. Maybe the neutrals had taken them hostage, but then why hadn’t they made a move? Maybe it had something to do with the strange readings from the Sea of Rust, and they’d gone to investigate because it was too dangerous to send scouts.
Singer was at a loss. Weeks ago he would have given his left flexors to be the only one to know something so juicy, to be the first to proudly announce that their leader had returned and that he alone was entrusted with their Lord’s care.
Now he just felt sort of sick.
Unicron had warped their leader into something monstrous, and even with the dark energon miraculously gone, it would take several long procedures to get his frame back to normal. He wasn’t even sure he could get it back to normal. On top of that…
Megatron had refused to let Soundwave out of his sight. The greyed and stiff frame took up the other large berth, no more silent than Soundwave had ever been, but many times more unsettling. It was like he had been this way for centuries, not days, but Singer knew better than to ask too many questions about it. Not when Lord Megatron was so broken.
One thing was for sure: no one else was getting into this medbay. Singer went about his routine, running diagnostics on their Lord during his shift to best figure out how to proceed, all the while maintaining that the room was under strict quarantine. He had the juiciest gossip on the whole planet…
And he’d sooner die than tell another soul.
“…Rung?” He’s had so much to process in such a short time that his orange companion hadn’t crossed his mind. He was away and safe, as far as Megatron had remembered leaving him.
“What happened?”
What? No! Just your spark- Censere said your spark was weak and, you know, stabbed, from that one time, and it’s in a big crystal ball to keep it stable while it’s in your body. That’s how you survived!
What.
This he has to see. There’s no one around but his close friends and the medic. With a wince and creak of rusted metal, his chest plates open.
“…Oh.” Sparks in his universe are balls of tangible energy, not nearly so physical. Combined with the fact that the frame it sits within is still so foreign and decrepit, looking down and knowing that crystal is him is indescribably strange. He wants to touch it. Raising a claw between them, he realizes how bad of an idea it probably is. Instead, another marvel.
“I… haven’t been alone in my mind or my spark for years. I have you to thank for this silence.”
Wh- what? No! Hardly! That was the other Soundwave guy and Prowl who had the thing. You have me to thank for… well… (He pats Megatron’s chest.) Just that.
How’s it feel, though? To be clean again?
“Heh. Perhaps. But the two of them come from a planet with a barrier that explodes dark energon upon contact. I can think of few reasons why they might have refrained from using it.” His massive claws cover Bee’s servo, holding it to his chest with the first genuine smile he’s had since waking up. “Thank you for being one of those reasons.”
“I feel exhausted. Weak. Pathetic, powerless… and so very relieved.”
“…Rung?” He’s had so much to process in such a short time that his orange companion hadn’t crossed his mind. He was away and safe, as far as Megatron had remembered leaving him.
“What happened?”
!!!
(Bee gasps and climbs his lap to tell the tale.) Smokescreen didn’t tell you?! OH my go- the card said you wound up in The Void, right?! Smokescreen and I went to another universe and cracked a hole in space-time, and we wound up in the Void, and it dropped us on this planet! There were flowers everywhere, and this bot! And he had your spark in a crystal!
Honestly, Megatron couldn’t remember anything the card had said. All he had seen was the image, a black, swirling… well, void. That Soundwave had of course neglected to mention as a possibility. Then again, he hadn’t exactly asked, either.
His rough ridges furrowed, trying to make sense of the situation. Why would it send him somewhere organic? “Someone had my spark in a crystal? …Was this planet in another dimension, or this one?”
I don’t know! The bot didn’t really look like either of us, but he was tall and he was nice. He made all the flowers himself! Each one was six spark signatures held in a crystal, the same kind of crystal your spark’s in right now! He said you just kind of showed up there, like me and Smokescreen did.
Crystalline flowers that held sparks… “I almost wish I could have seen it for myself.” Wait. Right now?
“What do you mean it’s in a crystal right now? Is all of this happening in a crystal?”
What? No! Just your spark- Censere said your spark was weak and, you know, stabbed, from that one time, and it’s in a big crystal ball to keep it stable while it’s in your body. That’s how you survived!
What.
This he has to see. There’s no one around but his close friends and the medic. With a wince and creak of rusted metal, his chest plates open.
“…Oh.” Sparks in his universe are balls of tangible energy, not nearly so physical. Combined with the fact that the frame it sits within is still so foreign and decrepit, looking down and knowing that crystal is him is indescribably strange. He wants to touch it. Raising a claw between them, he realizes how bad of an idea it probably is. Instead, another marvel.
“I… haven’t been alone in my mind or my spark for years. I have you to thank for this silence.”
“…Rung?” He’s had so much to process in such a short time that his orange companion hadn’t crossed his mind. He was away and safe, as far as Megatron had remembered leaving him.
“What happened?”
!!!
(Bee gasps and climbs his lap to tell the tale.) Smokescreen didn’t tell you?! OH my go- the card said you wound up in The Void, right?! Smokescreen and I went to another universe and cracked a hole in space-time, and we wound up in the Void, and it dropped us on this planet! There were flowers everywhere, and this bot! And he had your spark in a crystal!
Honestly, Megatron couldn’t remember anything the card had said. All he had seen was the image, a black, swirling… well, void. That Soundwave had of course neglected to mention as a possibility. Then again, he hadn’t exactly asked, either.
His rough ridges furrowed, trying to make sense of the situation. Why would it send him somewhere organic? “Someone had my spark in a crystal? …Was this planet in another dimension, or this one?”
I don’t know! The bot didn’t really look like either of us, but he was tall and he was nice. He made all the flowers himself! Each one was six spark signatures held in a crystal, the same kind of crystal your spark’s in right now! He said you just kind of showed up there, like me and Smokescreen did.
Crystalline flowers that held sparks… “I almost wish I could have seen it for myself.” Wait. Right now?
“What do you mean it’s in a crystal right now? Is all of this happening in a crystal?”
Megatron's back up 