the-scrappy-stinger:

mightymegatron:

Was the multiverse really so consistent? As strange and amusing as it was to listen to all the ways this Starscream had been killed, Megatron found he could actually relate to the experience. He laughed as he remembered it, laying his folded arms on the table.

“One day, he had cloned himself and ambushed me, but he was so easy to distract that I took down three of them at once! Aaah, good memories…”

So long as Bee didn’t request his presence, Megatron could wait. He was actually having a decent conversation with this small group of Autobots, no matter the prickle in his lines from the reliquary seated across from him. 

“His attempts to kill me were never terrible, but they seem to have stopped for the moment. He’s currently in charge of Vos’s reconstruction while I oversee Iacon. I haven’t heard his screeching in months… Tranquility.”

(The Allspark still tells her to fear. It flickers images through her eyes, of countless Megatrons locked in eternal combat, and his victories against bots she calls her friends.)

(But at the moment, she’s wrapped up in story time, and she shouts. For a split second, Bumblebee echoes in her voice.) “THE CLONES! What is it about Starscream and clones?! Our Starscream made, like, 11!” 

(Ratchet added.) “Each one a different part of the main Starscream’s personality, somehow.” 

(Optimus pulled out his holo-files and offered pictures of Starscream to Megatron. He’d lifted them from Perceptor; they weren’t much more than medical files, containing things like physical dimensions and vital readouts. Very dry, very clinical, but something to reference.) 

“Where is Bumblebee?” (Ratchet stood from the table and left for the kitchen.) “Dinner’s going stale and he and Bulkhead are off galavanting…” 

A voice far within the recesses of his spark urged him to lunge across the table, to strike at Sari. He pointedly ignored it, though the color of his optics began to shift a bit. He preoccupies himself with the idea of 11 Starscreams running around. He could hardly imagine the noise. The strutting.

Taking the files carefully, Megatron scoffs. “Ah, that glare on him is a universal constant…” This universe’s Decepticons seemed to be built a bit larger than its Autobots. For a moment, he entertained the notion of a Skyquake-sized Starscream… No, any size advantage would still be outweighed by his cocksure personality, as evidenced by the fact that a minibot-sized Optimus and his proportionate team had managed to take him down regardless.

He glances after Ratchet for a moment, but is unconcerned. Bumblebee would contact him if anything was awry. Instead, he searches through a produced datapad of his own for any reference of Starscream, and finds an image of his Second barking orders from the flight deck. In the background, he looks on, arms folded behind his back. “Here. You can tell how many times he’s had to repeat himself by how high his wings are hiked…”

“Dinner?”

the-scrappy-stinger:

(Optimus, Ratchet, and Sari all shared a look before laughing together.) 

“Megatron offlined Starscream himself!” (Optimus shuddered.) “With the Allspark k- well, indirectly with the Allspark. Out of spite!” 

(Ratchet spoke with an unerasable smirk.) “Got his aft handed to him by Optimus and landed him in stasis cuffs.” 

“That was after Megatron offlined him.” 

(Sari shrugged, still inwardly itchy but staying civil.) “It’s hard to explain.” 

“Then he got his head knocked off.” 

“Cut off, by a human-made machine.” 

“We poured concrete on him.”

“Then he got blasted into space-”

(It was quickly turning into “How they humiliated Starscream” vs. “How loyal Starscream was to Megatron”, but they talked with smiles and fond memories in their optics. Bee sent back a little ping of acknowledgement, but never called for backup. Whatever was in the kitchen was taking a while.) 

Was the multiverse really so consistent? As strange and amusing as it was to listen to all the ways this Starscream had been killed, Megatron found he could actually relate to the experience. He laughed as he remembered it, laying his folded arms on the table.

“One day, he had cloned himself and ambushed me, but he was so easy to distract that I took down three of them at once! Aaah, good memories…”

So long as Bee didn’t request his presence, Megatron could wait. He was actually having a decent conversation with this small group of Autobots, no matter the prickle in his lines from the reliquary seated across from him. 

“His attempts to kill me were never terrible, but they seem to have stopped for the moment. He’s currently in charge of Vos’s reconstruction while I oversee Iacon. I haven’t heard his screeching in months… Tranquility.”

the-scrappy-stinger:

(Megatron’s presence hurts her, and the Allspark tells her why. He’s a bullet loaded with evil, a canister of the Dark One’s blood, a pillar of Dark Energon. It registers in Sari’s body as a subcutaneous itch and a panic in her veins.) 

(She credited herself with only dipping out of the way in a polite curtsy.) After you.

“Did you not have a Starscream to help you?” (Optimus let Megatron have his “spot”, quietly tucking away the computer and saving his Stardew Valley game.) “I’ve learned on one Cyberon that Starscream was elected the leader.” 

(Ratchet sat down on Megatron’s other side.) “I call that one crazy.” 

Megatron’s stare just barely refrains from becoming a full-on glare. Instead, he doesn’t break eye-contact as he grins, showing his fangs and nodding his helm in thanks. That one will be a problem. He’ll deal with her later if need be

Taking a seat at the table, Megatron takes up an entire side, but it can’t be helped. There’s still enough room for everyone else. “Oh I’ve heard about that one. How that Cybertron has managed not to fall is nothing short of a miracle… My own Starscream is a competent enough strategist and commander, but he is far from loyal, or any sort of support. He would just as soon see me impaled on his claws as lead. I only tolerated his contempt for me because of his skill.”

He smirks again, expression fond this time. “Soundwave was a far better compatriot, at my side from the beginning. He is however not one for casual conversation. In either case, those in my regime are under my command, and thus speaking on equal ground is nearly impossible. Bumblebee was… refreshing.” All the while, Megatron keeps watch over the little ball of Allspark energy, physically unable to ignore her despite conversing with the two alternates on either side of him.

“…You don’t mean to suggest that your Starscream was supportive of his leader?”

the-scrappy-stinger:

(Ratchet just reaches in and takes another cookie while Optimus and Bulkhead timidly sample there. Optimus nibbles and savors his. Bulkhead downs the rest in one big chomp.) 

“This is really good!” 

(Sari watches with wary eyes, crossed arms, and a stiff back.) “Yeah, well… I’m a special case.” 

You’re a case, all right-

“IN LIGHT OF this nice, quiet holiday-” (Optimus clears his throat.) “-where family and friends can come together in peace… and quiet.” 

(Bee flinches under the guilt barb.) 

“I say we have Megatron sit down and share some of what we have. If that’s all right with you, Ratchet.” 

“Sure. We’ll have the old bots sit at the table and relax.” (Ratchet smirks.) “Bumblebee, Bulkhead, you serve the food.” 

(Bee almost protests before he sees Bulkhead practically bounce from joy, landing hard on his shocks with a “squeaky-squeak!” It knocks him out of his funk. Bulkhead’s… happy? To be sent off to a room to be alone with him?) 

(Optimus’s fatherly hand, shaking only a little, reaches between’s Megatron’s legs and ushers him toward the kitchen with a little pat. Bulkhead tails behind him so close, his belly bumps the small of Bee’s back. They’re out of sight soon enough.) 

(Ratchet just comes out and says it.) “Surprised you like the little bit-muncher. There were times back on Earth before I would’ve given my left diode to have him out of my plating.”

(Optimus grumps.) “Ratchet!” 

It concerns him a bit that Bumblebee doesn’t seem happy to have his old team back here, triggering old conversations to resurface in his mind, of the circumstances that led his friend to be alone here on Earth. Perhaps that hadn’t yet been resolved. Megatron looked after Bee, comming him a short message to ::Let me know if you need an escape.::

Ratchet’s comment draws a surprised laugh from him. “You’re not the only one surprised. He’s the polar opposite of the mechs in my command… perhaps that’s why I can’t help but enjoy his company.” He subspaces the empty cube, walking past them with his lengthy stride towards the table he’s become familiar with.

“He is honest and full of enthusiasm, in a world of subterfuge and underhanded promises. Without his companionship, and his blunt advice, I would be a lesser-”

Walking towards Sari stopped him in his tracks, as the pain in his lines intensified. He recognized the burn now, the dark energon within him reacting in the same way it had to the Star Saber, to the Matrix.

“…mech,” he finished, standing his ground and staring at the techno-organic.

From [here].

the-scrappy-stinger:

(gasp!) they’re beautiful! I can’t even make these, how did you-

(Suddenly the Lord of Cybertron is swarmed, like a litter of puppies, by the Autobots. Bee ducks for cover between Megatron’s feet as they all gather close.)

(Optimus watched him with wide, intense optics. His neck craned to take all of Megatron in. This Megatron was so… wizened! He was used to the charismatic swagger of his own Megatron, and the proud line of his shoulders and the timber of his voice. This one walked and stood like the planet was trying to drag him down into the dirt, one limb at a time.) “You’re…” (His words left him.) “Real. Hi.”

(Bulkhead’s optics shot back and forth between Megatron’s face and Bumblebee’s little yellow body.) “You and him are friends? Real actual friends trading Christmas presents?! I don’t believe that!!”

(Bumblebee muttered something about space bridges.)

(Over on the edge, though, Sari hung back. The Allspark whispered at the back of her mind, not in words but in intuition. Get this one alone, it told her. Don’t get close, just alone. It wanted to speak to him, and distance would be advisable. She let her own thoughts out.) “Well… if Bulkhead can make buddies with Dinobots and Constructicons, then why not Bumblebee and a 16 ton Megatron?”

(Ratchet popped one of the macarons in his mouth.) “Damned good.”

Oh goodness they’re all around him. Megatron stops himself from taking a step back, surrounded by little versions of Autobots he hasn’t seen in years. Optimus’ optics shone with a curious, awed light that reminded him far more of Orion than the Prime. Optics full of questions. Bulkhead’s were more disbelief than anything. It was fair enough; Bumblebee was roughly the size of the cannon mounted to his right arm. 

It’s Ratchet that eases him a bit, his aged nonchalance as familiar as Bee’s field tucked against him. He’s encouraged to reach out, plucking a treat from the box and offering it first to Optimus, then Bulkhead if he wouldn’t take it. 

“I assure you, I am very real. Bumblebee has become one of my closest confidants these last five years. It’s a pleasure to see how his universe has interpreted those I know so well… Apart from you, that is.” His gaze flicks up to to the techno-organic, still feeling that prickling heat from her direction. 

“I’m afraid I’ve never seen your like before.”

the-scrappy-stinger:

(He comes upon the odd Christmas scene: Optimus Prime and Ratchet, mid-wrestle with a stubby and portlier- if possible- Bulkhead, a hovering techo-organic human, and in the middle of it all, Bumblebee held captive in a bear hug.) 

(The action stops as the group looks over, and then up, and further up to his face in confusion and a detached sense of fear.) 

(Bee, obviously, takes the opportunity.) MEGATRON! OH thank goodness! (He wriggles out of the slackened hug and deftly makes his way behind Megatron’s legs.) HI! So- um- meet my old team! This is Optimus, Ratchet, and Bulkhead, you can probably recognize them-

(The techno-organic recoils a bit.) “I feel like I should be shooting him… but I don’t want to?” 

(Bulkhead’s jaw literally dropped off one its hinges.) “H-how-?!” 

“Wait! Wait, I know this!” (Optimus cut in.) “This is a… multiversal Megatron! Like I learned about from Attrition!” 

(Bee’s ashamed flush covered his whole face.) Sorry, got… kind of a full house today…

They’re all so… small. He recognizes most of them (red, white, and cranky had to be Ratchet, the green round one likely Bulkhead) but… he had thought Bumblebee was the only minibot on his squad. He hadn’t expected the largest of them to be barely as tall as Breakdown. This Optimus was no bigger than Arcee. It would be comical, if he had had come to frighten them. As it stood, they were Bumblebee’s friends, and he had no harmful intentions here.

Something, however, felt off. He couldn’t identify it exactly, but the small one’s EM field seemed particularly hostile, even hot. Shaking off the feeling, Megatron bent over just enough to offer Bumblebee the box, full of energon and oil macarons.

“It seems I should have contacted you before arriving, but I do believe there are enough for everyone.” He locked eyes with the alternate Optimus, studying him. Just how young was he? “Hopefully they are palatable.”