Chapter 1: Drunken Dare
Summary:
Starscream gets a drunken idea to coerce Megatron into dating the infamous creep of Cybertron, Soundwave.
Notes:
Translation:
Sparkday = Birthday
Nano-klik = 1 second
Klik = 1.2 minutes
Breem = 8.3 minutes
Joor / Groon = 1 Hour 15 minutes
Helm = Head
Servos = Hands
Digits = Fingers
Olfactory sensor = Nose
Derma = Lips
Glossa = Tounge
Intake = Mouth
Optical Ridge = Eyebrows
High-grade = Alcohol
Over-energized/ing = Drunk or Intoxicated
((Re-writing this (5 chapters) after leaving it in the dust for 5+ years. This is also a new account, so you may find 1 dupe of this fic under a different name. More info in my bio.))
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
''Alright! Alright-alrightalritealrite'' The Seeker blabbered in an almost incoherent manner, swaying his nearly empty glass of high-grade, a few droplets falling out from the sudden jerky movements.
''You '' The Hellion wavered an accusing digit at his trine mate, almost touching his olfactory sensor. ''Take an intake-full of that-'' He mumbled, pointing at his brother's glass of high-grade as if it insulted his dignity. ''And...we'll all try to make you laugh for a breem-''
''What!! Starscream- that's not fair! The interior of my intake will burn!!'' The Teleporter whined, intoxication only making him more unbearable. ''My glossa will fall out!!'' Megatron rubbed his helm above the optics as he silently groaned.
''One klik seems to be fairer, Star'' Thundercracker rumbled in his smaller brother's defense, he too seemed tired of his brother's antics, almost as much as Megatron himself....almost.
''Ugh- Fine!!'' Starscream threw his servos up in the air dramatically before turning his attention back to Skywarp. ''One klik! But ya better take a big intake-full!'' The screamer smirked, he spoke in an uneducated manner, once over-energized.
''Aft-helm will be counting!'' A sharp digit pointed towards the daydreamer. Megatron sent his friend a sharp glare, but couldn't find the energy to insult him in return.
''Aaaaand...start!!'' Starscream shouted as soon as his youngest brother took a decent sip of the disgusting high-grade. The pernicious seeker then began to tickle Skywarp. The teleporter squealed in both frustration and laughter. Then Thunder went to try his own way of getting Skywarp to spill the high-grade.
Megatron turned his attention to the side, regretting his decision to become friends with such imbeciles. A slow, calculated ex-vent rolled out of his frame.
It was enough embarrassment hanging out with Starscream alone- but when he had a drunken idea and oh, mech did he have many, it always seemed to triple the impossibly high rate of glares and snarky remarks the small group caught whenever they were on one of their stupid quests to make themselves the biggest fools of Cybertron.
It was rather contradictory to Starscream's expectations of needing to be respected as a highly intelligent mech. Clever, he was, but he didn't seem to notice how unusual his behaviour was when out in the public streets of Altihex. He didn't even need an excuse to speak in an audial-piercing tone; it simply became second nature.
As Megatron began to contemplate his life decisions, entirely forgetting the foolish game the trine was playing, his optics sighted something he never expected to see, or rather, someone. Squinting and resetting his optics rapidly, as if expecting it to be a hallucination, the ex-gladiator realised he really was looking at the one and only Soundwave.
Some believed him to be cursed, others a top-secret assassin sent to kill the innocent, and a few even believed he was Unicron’s evil spawn. He was sitting in the far corner of the bar, hunched over himself with a cube of engex balancing on one corner with only the tip of his index digit holding it in place. He seemed to be lost in thought, although it was hard to tell with the visor and mouth guard covering every diameter of his face plates.
What really caught his attention was the fact that someone like Soundwave was drinking high-grade in a bar. He was never seen in such a place; many thought he practically lived in the library, as he was mostly seen stuffing his visor with a paperback, a mountain more surrounding his frame, almost like a self-made fort to protect himself from socialising.
Whether it was the fort or his unnerving personality and EM field, it made everymech take a second glance and keep their distance. Creators would grab the servos of their younglings and hold sparklings closer to their chest plates, fearing the silent mech could send them to Unicron himself with a mere glance of his visor.
Megatron inwardly scoffed. Unicron? How foolish could these bots be to think that myth was even real, nothing but a simple berthtime story to scare the younglings. Then, as if his processor couldn't think of any more moronic ideas, it moved to sparklings. Megatron visibly frowned in disgust; he would never want a pit spawn of his own running amok and making endless noise, no, never.
Then, as if both a blessing and a curse, Starscream found it appropriate to snap the mech out of his trance by gasping so loudly that it captured the attention of everymech near. Megatron whipped his helm to the source of the noise and noticed the little hellion sharply glancing back and forth from himself and Soundwave with a servo over his intake in a dramatic pose. Optics were wide, almost seeming to want to pop out of his helm.
''YOU-'' Megatron found the strength within himself to lean over the small booth and slap his servo over Starscream’s annoying faceplates, successfully silencing him for only a nano-klik before the bastard thought it appropriate to lick his entire appendage with a disgustingly loud ''Auuhhh'' as his derma spread in a wide smile, threatening to fall off his faceplates if it were to grow anymore.
''DISGUSTING-'' Before the short-tempered mech could threaten his attacker, the helion interrupted him.
''YOU and that THING??!'' He continued as if he didn't just lick his friend's servo like a Cyber-dog in heat. Almost everybot turned their attention towards the small group for a moment before returning to whatever they were doing prior to the disruption. They knew Starscream well enough that it became normal for such outbursts to occur, especially in the bar.
What no one noticed was Soundwave's helm tilting ever so slightly as he stopped spinning the cube, noticing Starscream's tantrum but not much more.
''WHAT '' Megatron whisper-yelled, getting in the seeker's faceplates in a threatening manner.
''I saw you staring dreamily at-at- him!!'' The gremlin stuttered, almost incapable of comprehending what he was processing. Skywarp, on the other servo, was desperately squealing at this point, his intake leaking a few drops of high-grade as he tried to get his brother's attention
''Just spit it out..or drink it- whatever'' Thundercracker sighed, leaning on his servo as he lazily watched his loudest trine mate make a fuss.
''I was not! '' The silver mech countered, feigning surprise. This time, the Seeker gasped again, with a little less volume.
''I have the perfect dare for you!'' His derma contorted into one of his evil signature smiles. The ex-gladiator barely scoffed, his optics fluttering closed for a moment, helm shaking. ''I'm not playing one of your silly little games, Starscream'' Megatron spoke in a slightly less demanding tone than he intended.
''I dare you to ask that imbecile out'' The Seeker spoke with gleeful venom, staring at the other expectantly. The silver mech straightened his face and spoke more firmly.
''No.'' A tone he used when he was done with everybot's slag. It didn't, however, do much to deter the one and only Starscream of Vos, who managed to embarrass his entire race with his personality alone.
''Ohhh C'mon!! It'll be so fun to get under his plating! No one's ever seen any other side of him- AND'' The Screamer raised his voice as soon as he saw the Megatron attempt to interrupt him. Megatron found it better to simply silence himself before he attracted even more attention.
''-And...I thought you were a mech of self-righteousness- The one and only that claims nothing or nobot can defeat!'' All knew that if Starscream was complimenting anyone, he was getting desperate. ''All must bow-''
Megatron chuckled. ''Foolishly so, you seem to be looking in the mirror, oh dear Seeker. '' Starscream shot his optics wide, and flinched back as if slapped across the helm with full force. He growled.
''Fine!! So be it'' He turned his helm to the side, holding it up high. If he had organic hair, he would probably be flipping it with utmost sass. Skywarp was staring at his brother with pure innocence, optics wide, one would think the mech was a sparkling if not for the fully developed frame. Thundercracker's slouched position was saying he'd given up on functioning. Then that damned smirk reappeared.
''I'll just tell all of Cybertron that the Mighty Megatron is having an affair with the sluttiest femme in the galaxy'' His eyes slowly dragged back to the silver frame, adoring the look of pure shock and horror on his tired faceplates. Skywarp gasped and turned his attention to the silver mech, dainty servos held over his derma as if afraid to make a sound.
The mech that the entire trine seemed to be staring at slowly leaned in close to the little brat's helm. A small creak escaped from the seat he lifted from.
''You wouldn't dare'' He growled, quietly. The Seeker moved his attention to his digits, inspecting them for any dirt or misplacement, that evil smirk still glued to his aggravating face plates. Any intoxication seemed to be lost.
''I know how to spread the word- What is that famous dirty club called again, Thunder?'' Starscream asked as if he were looking for directions.
"Don't know...don't care.." The brother in question nonchalantly replied.
"I seem to recall there being an awfully tantalising mech there- He frags every bot he lays optics on." The seeker teased with a wiggle of his optical ridges and a low chuckle.
A threatening growl left the destroyer's vocalizer.
''I want no part in this sparkling game of yours'' Megatron hissed as Starscream waved his index digit in the air, tutting.
''Nu-uh-ahhh~ You agreed- nay- vowed to the rules when we first started, you cannot go back on your word.'' He finished in a tone as if it was obvious to know such mindless things.
''I didn't agree to any rules.'' The brute growled with a hint of confusion.
''You did when we made the game.'' Starscream countered.
''Who made the game..?'' Skywarp interrupted.
''It was you.'' Thunder added.
''Warp doesn't have the capacity to do such a simple task.'' Star insulted.
''H-Hey!''
''It was me ''
''No it wasn't-''
''I'm the one who makes the games!''
''Does it even matter-''
''Yes! He's stealing my ideas!''
''Am not! ''
''Are too! It was on my sparkday!''
''Maybe it was you...''
''It IS me!''
''But what-''
Thundercracker sighed heavily in the background.
''FINE!'' Megatron finally grew tired. Luckily, it only caught the attention of the nearest drunks.
''I will play your stupid game but only because I cannot stand being near you two imbeciles!'' He whisper-yelled. If Megatron was known for anything, it was his dignity, and he wasn't going to let Starscream ruin it by some fiction story. Said seeker beamed in joy.
Megatron then began to stand up, turning his helm to face the silent 'creep', as many would call him. And slowly began walking to the far corner of the bar. He almost bumped into a waiter as he never failed to tear his gaze from the bot. He was nervous, his spark was beating loudly, and he didn't know why.
''Uhhh-Ahem'' A clearing of the vocal cords snapped the blue mech out of his deep thoughts, tipping the cube over in the process. Slowly turning his helm to the origin of the sound, he was surprised to see another mech standing before him, nobot ever willingly talks to him, so this must be a complaint. Even if he could not recall any wrongdoing he must have done to the mech before him. He did not seem displeased, though...
''I was uhh- wondering if...uhh-Y-You...'' The mysterious mech seemed to stumble with his words as he fiddled with his digits nervously. ''Would you-uhh, like to...go o-on a date...with me..'' This caused Soundwave to tilt his helm ever so slightly.
Such a scenario had never happened in his function. What in the name of Solus Prime had infected this mech to be so...strange? He knew well that the owner of that title was himself, but never had anybot dared to say such a thing to the loner.
His red visor brightened as it met the maroon coloured optics, slowly weighing his options. Then, finally, he concluded.
This mech must be insane
Notes:
Please let me know if you enjoyed it! It means so darn much when yall comment and leave kudos. I seriously appreciate it so fkn much :'3 And prepare yourselves for some suffering on Soundwave's behalf >:D
I originally wrote this in 2019, so a few things had to be fixed. This story was originally called "Deception", but I changed it since I had to make a cover for Wattpad and Fanfiction.net
Book cover: https://prnt.sc/aJm4RjhObCtb
Chapter 2: Emotions
Summary:
Megatron reflects on his decisions while Soundwave struggles to regulate his emotions.
Notes:
I usually see authors writing on transformers not needing to breathe, however, my logic is that the inhale and exhale (in-vent, ex-vent) is necessary to cool their systems. So they breathe, I guess.
Translation:
Tick/ Nano-klik = 1 Second
Klik = 1.2 minutes
Breem = 8.3 minutes
Pedes/pede = Feet/foot
Intake = Mouth
Servo = Hand
Optics = Eyes
Orbital Cycle = 1 Day
Joor / Groon = 1 Hour 15 minutes
In-vent = Inhale
Ex-vent = Exhale
Vent = Breath / Lungs
Equilibrium Sensors = Balance
Auctuators = Joints
Curcuit = Nerves
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Soundwave's auctuators were frozen.
Go on a date with me.....
His outer spark chamber tightened, not physically, but in a way that felt like gravity itself had doubled. A random stranger, smiling, expecting an answer, and here he was, trapped in the absurd theatre of social interaction.
The blue mech's processor screamed.
Why me? Who even asks me out? Is this a joke? Is he laughing behind his servo? Is everyone watching?
Every circuit screamed, every instinct yelled retreat, yet his leg struts refused to obey.
Could it actually be... real? The idea alone was alien, corrosive. He scoured the large mech's expression, reading for cracks, hidden sarcasms, traps. There were none, just that smile, too casual, too bright, too normal. It made him suspicious.
What if it was a test? A trap? A social minefield, and one misstep would- what? Humiliate him? Ruin him? Get himself a beating? He pictured himself answering 'yes' and immediately stumbling, stammering, revealing every flaw he'd meticulously hidden for eons.
And yet, somewhere deep behind the panic, down in the centre of his spark's core, a tiny flicker of... curiosity. Could this- this impossible, terrifying, absurd thing- actually be genuine?
The thought was unbearable, yet intoxicating.
Something like this had never come across the loner's function. This didn't seem right.
''Request: Declined'' The monotone voice came through stern and cold, making it quite clear that the mech wasn't having any of it. Megatron's smile faltered, he didn't move. He seemed to be shocked...or surprised? Soundwave neither knew nor cared. The blue bot stood up with expert precision and dropped a few shanix on the table before taking a step out of the booth and making his way to the exit.
He wasn't going to entertain this joke any further.
That was until the towering mech physically stopped him with a quick grasp of a servo on his right shoulder guard. Soundwave's spark stopped beating for a nano-klik before forcing his systems to calm down as he slowly turned his helm in the direction of the invader. His spark was still aching from the aftermath. ''W-wait-''
''Order: Would be wise to refrain from physical contact'' Soundwave interrupted, with his back strut facing the other. Nobot could tell, but at that very moment, the bookworm was on the verge of panic, his systems were screaming bloody murder, obstructing his vision with warnings of a possible attack.
A mech that was more than powerful enough to beat Soundwave to the ground, if he so pleased. One could tell by merely glancing at his frame. He was aware that this bot was an ex-gladiator, and that only worsened the loner's over-processing.
The touch was gone as if he was made of molten iron, blaring warnings slowly but surely beginning to soothe and disperse. Yet, the Tapedeck found it impossible to vent.
''I apologise... I just...I...'' He seemed at a loss for words. Soundwave didn't move, only being able to see the silver mech out of the corner of his optic. The mech spared a nervous glance at the group he came from earlier, before returning his attention to the loner.
''I'm interested in you!'' Came the hurried answer, almost...desperate. His frame seemed to have shrunk in shame once he caught the attention of a few bots. Soundwave calculated the probability of the current situation and whether it was even possible to be legitimate. He could not allow his feelings to get in the way. He had to calculate the situation.
Soundwave's optics flickered briefly, scanning the brute from helm to pede, assessing micro-expressions, tone fluctuations, and posture shifts. Every variable screamed caution. Desire? Improbable. Deception? Highly likely. Hope? Dangerous.
Interest... The word repeated itself inside him like a corrupt loop, pinging across circuits he didn't know could feel. Something in the silver mech's voice was fragile, almost trembling. It skewed the data. It was real. Possibly real. And that fact made his calculations unstable.
He tightened his servos, suppressing the micro-tremor in his frame as he weighed the outcomes:
Engagement: Too unpredictable. Possible injuries may occur.
Rejection: Safe, contained, controlled. Although there was always the slight possibility the ex-gladiator would grab hold of him again....
Yet the longer he stared, the more the logic frayed at the edges. There was a pull, a gravitational anomaly in his system, something no sensor could quantify.
Soundwave's internal monologue, precise and unyielding, fractured.
Probability of reciprocation: Low.
Probability of social catastrophe: High.
Emotional interference: Unacceptable.
Yet, his optics betrayed him, tracing the curve of the other mech's hopeful gaze, the slight slump of shame, the nervous tremor in his stance.
He could not, would not, allow himself to lose control. Not now. Not ever.
"Request....denied." He said finally, voice colder than he intended, measured, final. The words were meant to sever the anomaly, to restore balance, to reclaim the safe equilibrium of his internal metrics.
The silver mech flinched, a flicker of disappointment passing through his posture, but Soundwave's systems were already recalibrating. He stood, stepping back into the predictable cadence of his day, forcing every actuator and sensor to obey the command:
No attachments. No deviations. Logic only.
Even in retreat, a spark of something forbidden ignited in his core processor, a pulse he could neither deny nor control: The unlikely had touched him, and he shuddered.
''Well?'' Starscream said expectantly, that smirk never seeming to leave his faceplates.
''He...'' Megatron sat down, feeling exhausted for some reason. ''Refused my request.'' The large mech said defeatedly. The questioning Seeker scoffed.
''I'm not surprised!'' He said dejectedly, glancing at the drinking bots with minimal enthusiasm. Megatron internally agreed. ''You'd even fail to befriend a fraggin' Cyberfox'' For the umpteenth time this Orbital cycle, Megatron snapped his helm sharply in the accuser's direction and glared with dominance.
''Careful with your glossa, brat '' The mech snarled the last word, punctuating it.
''Or it may bid farewell to your lurid intake'' He slowly leaned back in the seat, the trine on the other end of the narrow table, staring at him expectantly. Starscream, a little less so.
''I tried, the deal is off.'' The aggravated mech said before taking his leave- but just as he stood on his pedes, he was stopped.
''Do as you please, Megatron.'' The Seeker said mockingly. ''I know more dirty secrets about you than every bot in Vos combined'' He finished strong, intertwining his digits in a comically way. And that was it, the troublemaker crossed the line right then and there. Megatron snarled as he spun around with utmost speed and caught the writhing thing by the neck cables.
A small squeak managed to escape his vocalizer.
Thundercracker didn't even seem surprised. He knew Megatron's short temper was always pushed by his brother, and thus, Star was the one who would deal with the outcome. The largest of the trine would normally flinch, even if only the slightest. But not this time. He knew his brother deserved it.
Sharp claws began to scratch at his chest plating as the Seeker struggled to vent from the forceful grip.
''You will not continue to threaten me with youngling games, I have had enough of your foolish ways!'' He bellowed, right into the faceplates of the struggling Seeker, nobot seemed to be phased by this action, a full out brawl was almost common.
''Do your worst..'' Starscream gasped.
''You know you cannot do anything but hit me...a-and we all know how effective that is'' He couldn't mask the shadow of sorrow in his optics. But the detail was ignored by the brute holding him off the ground. He was right...He knew Megatron wasn't going to kill him...why he dealt with the gremlin's antics- well, they were friends, whether he liked to admit it or not.
He also knew, from past events, that hitting the defenseless Seeker did nothing to to sway him. He may scream dramatically or be in a sparkling mood for a few joors, but he'd return back to normal. He never cried though. Starscream was many things, but broken, he was not.
With an eerie silence hanging heavy in the air, Megatron finally let go of the Seeker, allowing him to fall ungracefully to the ground. Skywarp was at his side in an instant, worrying optics scanning over for any serious injuries. Star swatted him away with a snarl. Without a second glance, the short-tempered mech left the bar, wanting to get as far as possible from any stress.
He was eternally grateful that he managed to find a place of his own recently. It was only a small, dingy apartment, but it was better than living with those three. It was almost too much torture to bear. Megatron liked to be alone. It gave him a certain peace in his processor that nobot or location could provide.
When he made it to his apartment, the tired mech got a cube from the Energon dispenser before settling down on the couch with a loud sigh, hoping it would release all of the stress and pent up anger. Why was he still upset even though he had gained a good amount of distance from that Gremlin? He had threats to contemplate on.
On one servo, he could ignore Starscream's threats, hoping it was just a phase- Although if it's something as cruel as ruining Megatron's dignity, he did not doubt that Seeker would be more than glad to do it. So ignoring the problem was off the table.
He could try to negotiate- set a deal? But what is it that Starscream of Vos was interested in, it seemed like ruining the silver mech's function was a top priority. Another thing out of the question. He could ask Soundwave to pretend to go along with it? Although going with the flat-out rejection he'd received, he didn't think that was much of a realistic chance. He didn't even see Soundwave as a potential partner.
Then he remembered the moment he approached the blue mech. His spark was beating rapidly, vents hitching as the visor collided with his own optics. Full focus was on that bot, as if in a trance. Megatron scoffed at another naive thought.
He had no feelings for the mech, nor did he care that he was ridiculed by the public. It simply wasn't his business, and it wasn't affecting him, so he had no reason to waste emotions on such a thing.
Yet here he was, slumped on the couch with the Energon cube all but forgotten as he tried to convince his processor that he wasn't, in any way, attracted to the silent mech.
Soundwave never understood emotions. Never wanted to. They were dangerous. Other bots' feelings? Irrelevant. His own? Vulnerable. That was the word. That feeling made him...weak. Still, they existed. Always there, lying dormant, until some glitch forced them to surface. Then he had to shove them aside in a constant, never-ending stasis.
Speed-walking. Almost running. Pedesteps were loud against the metallic floor. Every step calculated, both servo's tensed. No bot had ever touched him like that. Pain? Yes. Always pain. But...this?
This?
The frenzied Tapedeck slammed his code into the keypad. The door opened seamlessly, he didn't bother to check if the interface of the pad was intact from his rough handling. He didn't look. Couldn't look. Neighbors? Don't care.
Have to move.
Inside. Safe? No....
Systems thrumming. Spark surging. Emotion. No. Not real. Glitch. Virus. Scan confirms: All systems are optimal.
Then why- why is everything...wrong?
The towering mech. What was he thinking?
Impossible. Ridiculous. Dangerous....
Primus...I was so fragging stupid to go there..
Oh, Primus...broken. That's it. Broken. Faulty.
Optics stung. Vents flared.
Cannot leak optical fluids. Won't leak. Wouldn't help. Would only make everything worse.
Worse...
His vents struggled to function, only small, rapid gasps leaving his system.
Weak...
Frantic digits gripped his mouth guard in a weak, struggling attempt to take the plate off.
Feeble...
His vision began to darken. Like the cold, heavy grasp of Unicron's claws digging into the core of his spark.
Glitched...
Cannot focus....cannot calculate...cannot run commands...
Imperfect...
Erratic vents began to overheat his system. Unable to stabilise.
Defective...
Every calculation fails. Every protocol collapses. Systems screaming internally, trying to rebalance, to filter the flood of sensations: heat, pressure, fear, confusion, longing- all tangled. He could not focus. Couldn't think. Couldn't vent...couldn't.
The Tapedeck's frame collapses faceplate-first to the floor. Vents overrun, cycling in rapid bursts. Equilibrium lost. Unsteady, unable to respond. He lay there, trapped in the sudden void of darkness, cold metal pressing against his chassis.
And yet...even in this chaos, the spark lingers. The impossible touch. The sensation he cannot identify. He had no control over it, and it refused to leave. It thrummed in the back of his processor, a small, dangerous pulse that threatened another overload.
Dark. Cold. Alone.
And for the first time...
Exposed.
.
.
.
.
.
Notes:
Poor baby is keeping his feelings all bottled up :'( Oh well....his time for suffering has yet to come!
Chapter 3: Crystal Petal
Summary:
Megatron attempts a romantic gesture.
Notes:
In this AU, Cybertron has both Datapads and real books because let's be honest, nothing can beat paperbacks when it comes to a bookworm. Explanation for this will be in chapter 5.
Translation:
Tick/ Nano-klik = 1 Second
Klik = 1.2 minutes
Orbital Cycle = Day
Derma = Lips
Oral Fluid = Spit
Aft = Ass
Pit/s = Hell
Shanix = Cybertronian Currency
Auctuator = Joint
Chapter Text
Warm, sunny, bright, happy. Four words the Tapedeck tried to repeat in his processor, though the memories of the previous orbital cycle crept back unbidden, like static threading through his circuits. He forced himself to ignore the glares and nasty remarks whenever he got too close to anyone, but the remnants of panic and shock from that impossible encounter lingered, unrelenting.
The orbital cycle was beautiful, the stress of it all slightly dulled by the distant song of Cyberbirds in the nearby park. Yet the chatter of bots and the low rumble of engines near the bar made it nearly impossible to calm down completely.
Soundwave shook his helm, not to forget, but to push back against the flash of memories- tiny fragments of a moment he could neither erase nor fully process. They slithered through his core processor, stubborn and persistent, threatening to tangle with his carefully ordered routines.
Still, he was eager to reclaim his day, heading straight for his favourite place on Cybertron. The library.
Soundwave’s optics glimmered at the sight, a trickle of a smile touching his faceplates. In his servos, he carried several books he had re-read countless times, ready to return them and borrow more. Oh, how the blue mech could not wait to-
''HEY!!'' A gruff voice pierced through his audials as the daydreamer lost balance by a hard hit on his chassis, falling right on his aft with a quiet 'ouff'. Books flew open and hit the hard ground as he failed to keep hold of them. His spark almost breaks at the thought of ruining the covers of his favourite readings- but then he realises what has just happened.
Soundwave had bumped into somebot. Not just any random bot minding their own business, no. This was someone who already knew he was a freak, which, admittedly, described most of the population of Cybertron.
Occasionally, he could get away with the understandable mistake of walking into someone while distracted or ‘elsewhere’. This particular encounter, however, promised to be... very counterproductive.
''Whatch where yer fraggin' goin'!!!'' The same gruff voice bellowed from above, the defenceless mech needing to squint his visual receptors to prevent temporary blindness from the sunlight at this angle.
This new visor is a pain...
''Eyy it's that freak! '' Another voice spoke, this one with less of an accent.
This one clearly lacks any basic educati-
The mute is forced away from his thoughts as a servo, larger than his own, takes hold of his neck conduits and raises the mech high enough to hang from the tight hold. Systems flashing in red warning.
WARNING: VENTILATION SYSTEMS INTERUPTED
WARNING: ELEVATED THERMAL STRAIN
''Aye, it is. Would yer look a' that'' A dangerously bright glow beams in the attacker's optics, scanning every inch of his frame until he reaches the panicking mech's visor as if he can see straight into his very spark.
Soundwave dares to grab a hold of the attacker's arm to try and gain some leverage, the tight hold only further restricting his vent-ways. Motors began running in overdrive to compensate for the lack of cooling he was receiving. The blue mech tries to beam off an apologetic wave with his EM field, knowing full well that the aft-bag doesn't deserve it- but he may just accept such an offer.
''Whatsa dumb glitch like you doin' wit' that '' The mech’s optics darted to the books scattered across the floor. Soundwave froze, servo joints locked, voice dead. Every protocol screamed at him: Move, respond, defend- but logic overrode instinct.
Stay still. Minimise risk. Don’t draw attention.
His circuits thrummed. Probability calculations looped, corrupted by the spike of… something he had no name for. Any wrong move could escalate, could hurt him.
Would they notice? Could they-
They would tire of him. They had to. That was only logical.
Yet the panic pulsed anyway, a rogue signal he could not suppress, buzzing under his plating like a misfiring actuator.
“AYE!! He’s talkin’ to ya!!” The other mech spat directly into his right audial, and the high-pitched ring stabbing through his processor made him flinch. A low, animalistic growl rumbled from the attacker. He did not like to be ignored, it seemed.
Panic flared. Soundwave needed to move. Needed to escape. But wriggling against the grip was futile. Every actuator screamed in protest. This mech must tower at least three helms above him. Side by side, Soundwave would barely reach the mid-section of his chassis.
His processors raced, calculating every angle, every micro-opportunity for survival. But before he could act, darkness swallowed his vision. For a nano-klik, the world vanished entirely.
Then came the pain, sharp and unbearable, burrowing into his helm. Systems overloaded, vents stuttering, warnings blaring in his optical field. Heat flared in his circuits, pulses racing beyond regulation. An involuntary groan escaped him- a raw, metallic sound betraying the panic he fought to suppress.
“Next time yer bug me, I’ll turn yer intah a pile o’ piston dust!” The attacker spat directly onto Soundwave’s visor before striding off with his partner, each confident step echoing in the quiet aftermath.
“Stupid fraggin’ cog.” Distant words echoed in the Tapedeck’s processor.
Soundwave ex-vented or the closest approximation his spark could manage, and allowed himself a brief moment of relief. Minimal damage. Survived. That was....enough.
Optical sensors still lagged, capturing a slow, fragmented view of the fallen books. One by one, he gathered them, each spine and page heavy in his grasp. Not just physically, but emotionally.
Many were dented. Some pages were smeared with dirt from their brief collision with the ground. The blue mech wiped the oral fluid from his visor and mouthguard with the back of a trembling servo before looking up, still alert.
To be fair, he did not technically own the books, yet he treated them as if they were precious sparklings, each page containing a world he could lose himself in. The thought steadied his systems, offering a tiny pulse of control after the chaos had subsided.
A shaky ex-vent, and a subtle droop in his upper plates. Small gestures betraying his frayed circuits marked the resumption of his journey to the only safe space he knew beyond his apartment.
The library doors slid open with a silent welcome. The familiar scent of old, well-kept paperbacks and hardcovers hit his sensors, and for a brief instant, a hidden smile brushed across his faceplates.
Quiet. Peaceful. Here, bots didn’t swarm or glare. Attention was elsewhere- on books, datapads, computers. It was a sanctuary, a calm in the storm.
For a fleeting moment, Soundwave almost felt....normal.
The Tapedeck made his way to his usual spot, a quiet corner of the library that seemed least visited, even though the complex was modest compared to other social spaces. The library was never meant for socialising, which made it the perfect place to hide.
He placed the damaged books to one side of the fort he had constructed, making a mental note to deal with them before leaving. For now, Soundwave gleamed at the thought of diving into something new.
He quickly skimmed to his favourite section: Science Fiction. His optics widened at the servo-full of books, each one promising adventure. Tales of magical beasts travelling through space, explorers discovering other realms and dimensions, and epic space battles tinged with dramatic romance.
One in particular caught his attention: a story of several lions that could transform into a titanic robot. Strange, yes- but undeniably fascinating.
Arriving back at his sanctuary with several books in tow, he didn’t waste a nano-klick before settling onto the comfortable mesh pillows. The loner placed the new volumes on the opposite side of the damaged ones, forming a small barrier. His own little world.
Soundwave was glad he had no affiliation with anybot. It would only lead to judgment, as it always had. When the blue mech borrowed from the Science Fiction section, the worst he might receive was an odd glance from the librarian as she took his card and scanned the books for temporary ownership.
Bots always judged one another. Especially a full-grown mech indulging in youngling fantasies. No, that wasn’t why Soundwave was drawn to a particular book. It wasn’t for the thrill of discovering what would happen next, nor even because he loved reading more than almost anything else on Cybertron.
No.
It gave him hope
Soundwave often fantasised himself in the protagonist’s position. Everybot always admired the main character- well, perhaps the “bad guys” were an exception. However, the hero was praised for every effort, every calculated move, and met with unwavering loyalty.
Loved unconditionally...
He could get completely lost in the depths of his imagination: Epic space battles, comrades risking or even sacrificing their lives to protect him. Most importantly, he had close friends, each bot caring deeply for him.
Soundwave shook his helm and reset his optics rapidly. He would not dwell on such things; there were books to read, new fantasies to explore. Everything was all right.
“Ahh! Perfect~’’ The silver mech held out the delicate item in his servo, inspecting it with his helm high and chassis puffed out like some overinflated trophy. This would surely capture the bot’s attention- who knew? Perhaps he might even wrangle a date.
One last confident nod, a quick dusting of his servo, and he strode out of the park, conveniently situated right by his destined goal. Naturally, he had no clue where the Loner lived; following him would be madness. But the one and only Megatron knew perfectly well where the bot practically hunkered down. The local library.
The moment the large mech stepped through the sliding doors, a peculiar scent hit him straight in the faceplates. He froze. Did he like it? Did he hate it? Hard to tell, really.
‘’Now... I must find him...’’ The silver bot murmured, though his voice trembled just slightly. Striding off in a single direction. He read the signs indicating each genre and guessed the peculiar one would be in ‘History’. Surely, the loner would want to bury himself in dusty tomes, steeped in the knowledge of ancient conflicts and long-dead bots. A subtle, creepy tone. It suited him.
Some bots even whispered that he was an unkillable beast, forged in the pits themselves. Megatron snorted loudly, the sound bouncing off the walls. Ridiculous.
A fragging library hermit? What next- slicing through unsuspecting bots in the dead of night?
After trudging through several aisles of- whatever category this place decided to call itself. Megatron found himself at a breaking point. He hadn’t located the mech, and he’d combed every logical section of this Primus-forsaken building.
If he failed to catch the blue mech’s interest, he could kiss both his dignity and very function goodbye. Honestly, what was the point of existing if everybot thought so little of you?
Where could he be, where could he be....
Megatron scanned the cramped library with squinted optics, half enraged and entirely fixated on the task at servo. He handled his ‘gift’ with extra care, unwilling to crush it with his usual rough grasp.
Just as the short-tempered mech considered abandoning the search and storming out, his optics caught something odd: A strange pile of mesh blankets, almost fenced off by a precarious wall of books.
Megatron had to reset his optics, convinced the Gremlin must’ve slipped something into his Energon dispenser before he arrived....but no. It was real.
It took him a klik and a few cautious strides closer to notice a venting mech tangled in the chaotic nest. Megatron froze for a moment, dumbfounded, before comprehension struck. This was the very bot he’d been hunting.
With a swift clearing of his neck cabling, the now-nervous silver mech approached the solitary figure, noticing how utterly unaware the blue mech was of his looming presence, shadow cutting the light over Soundwave’s book. Another careful step, another deliberate “Ahem.”
“I uhhhh…”
The blue mech looked up, and for the briefest of moments, his optics widened with pure alarm.
“Picked these for you,” Megatron finished, all confidence leaking away, voice wobbling like unregulated hydraulics. Soundwave didn’t respond. Not a flicker. Not a hum.
“It-uhhh… These… crystal flowers- reminded me of you,” the silver mech added hastily.
“The uhhh… t-the colour, reminded me of you,” he corrected, voice nearly cracking under the pressure.
Megatron’s gaze caught the subtle change in hue across Soundwave’s visor. A thin, long crack ran along the right side- barely noticeable from a distance, but here, close-up, it was stark. The blue mech’s helm lowered immediately, as if trying to vanish behind the book resting on his leg struts. Shoulder pads hunched in a protective, almost pleading posture.
Inside, Soundwave’s processor raced.
Oh no, oh no, oh no. He’s noticed. He’s seen. Don’t move. Don’t vent. Don’t- don’t let him see. Don’t look at him, don’t give anything away, don’t-
“Is that- are you hurt..? I don’t recognise this from the previous orbital cycle,” Megatron asked, concern seeping in, though he didn’t fully understand why.
Megatron’s question sliced through his spiralling panic:
Did somebot… hurt me? The thought only escalated the storm of fear in his circuits. Servos twitched. Every possible escape route calculated and rejected, all at once, too fast to act.
“Did somebot… hurt y-”
The sentence never finished. A slam shut of a book ripped through the towering mech’s words, followed by a hard shove, as much force as he could muster. Instantly, the blue mech bolted, spark hammering through his frame. Every cable screamed in panic, every internal gauge burning.
Need to leave.
What the frag was he doing there?!
What kind of game is he playing??
Megatron remained frozen on his aft, intake wide, processing the sudden blur of movement. Only when the blue mech was almost gone did the silver mech glance down, noticing the shattered heap of crystal flowers strewn across the floor. A single petal caught in his optics, momentarily pulling him out of his own chaos.
A shriek voice cuts through the brute’s processing.
''You!'' An accusing digit is shoved into his faceplates.
''What was all that preposterous ruckus!! This is a Library, may I remind you!'' The slim mech leaned forward as if to prove his point.
''How could- Oh my Primus!!! This mess! Clean it up immediately!! And I will fine you for this damaged property!!'' With that, the posh-accented bot finally left Megatron with a hefty fine of 350 Shanix and a mess to clean. He could only muster a groan.
Why does that Primus-forsaken mech always unsettle him like that, sending his spark spiking into dangerously unstable territory, twisting every actuator and circuit with a mixture of fear and fascination he cannot decipher?
Soundwave rushed through his apartment hatch, metal plates rattling with every hurried step, praying the noise wouldn’t draw the landowner’s attention. He didn’t have the patience nor the energy for another confrontation.
He barreled toward his resting platform, chassis trembling, optic sensors flickering erratically. His core processor felt like it was on fire, circuits overheating, each process fracturing into a thousand scattered fragments.
He needed a deep de-frag, a full reset, a way to shove the panic out of his core, to force his spark into numbness. Now.
Now.
Just stasis, nothingness, a temporary escape from the storm that was this mech, this encounter, this endless pulse of dread in his spark..
Almost throwing the book he’d unconsciously brought with him onto the resting platform, the precious paperback skidded across the smooth surface, opening to the very page he’d been reading before the intrusion shattered his focus. The panic-stricken bot's red visor flickered with irritation, almost dismissing the incident... until a glint caught his attention, reflecting sharply off the overhead light.
All rage and frustration evaporated as his optics locked onto the source: A single, dark-blue, immaculate Crystal Flower petal. It must’ve slipped in when he had shoved that big brute aside. His chest plates tightened involuntarily. His frame trembled. The world had narrowed to that one fragile, perfect fragment lying innocently before him.
Picking up the delicate petal with absolute care, he let out a shaky ex-vent, easing every cable in his taut frame. His next movements went unquestioned, unobserved, as he stood and slowly made his way to a hidden compartment behind the wall of the bookshelf.
Entering the sequence code, he unlatched the small door, barely large enough to accommodate a servo larger than his own. Gently, he placed the petal into a perfectly sized box that had lain empty for countless vorns. The little velvet container carried its own quiet history, now holding something fragile and irreplaceable.
He could have thrown the petal away. But some strange feeling possessed the mech to hold onto it. It was a warmth he’d never felt before. A warmth glowing ever so gently within his spark.
Chapter 4: Misunderstanding
Summary:
Soundwave has a little torture session with his mechanic. However, on his way back...he spots something unexpected.
Notes:
Olfactory sensor = Nose
Derma = Lips
Glossa = Tongue
Actuators = Joints
Aft = Ass
Tick/ Nano-klik = 1 Second
Breem = 8.3 minutes
Shanix = Currency
Vorns = Years
Optical ridge = Eyebrow
Fluid channels = Veins
Energon lines = Supply line of Energon
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
It had been the same dreary routine as ever. Soundwave stood beneath the hiss of a hot solvent shower in the washrack, trying not to think about the stale scent of industrial cleaner, before forcing down a cube of Energon that tasted as though it had been siphoned from a scrapyard dump. Even the swallow had felt like a punishment.
Then the inevitable. Meeting his own visor in the mirror, trying to adjust his plating, polish out the scratches, and arrange himself into something vaguely presentable.
At least those pit-spawned burdens had been dealt with for the orbital cycle. Now came the truly unnerving part. A trip to the repair bay. Caliper’s Repairs. Just the name sent a cold static surge crawling down his spinal strut. His processor whirred with anxious static, every diagnostic subroutine screaming to avoid.
His cooling fans kicked on, not from heat but from rising panic. The thought of that smug, grease-smeared tailpipe smirking over his open armour made his tanks churn. Still... he had no choice. He had to go.
Slow, measured pede-steps carried him towards the storage compartment. The one holding his cracked visor from the last orbital cycle.
Or... was it two cycles ago? No, perhaps-no, no, irrelevant.
His processor looped, glitching between half-formed memories until he gave a sharp shake of his helm, as if to rattle the thoughts loose. Pointless. Wasting energon on needless recollection.
He gently placed the cracked visor into his subspace and slipped out through the hissing door. The repair bay lay only a short walk from his living compartment. But proximity was never the reason for his dread. Each pede step sent faint echoes through the empty street. It seemed as though he was up early enough to avoid possible encounters.
He pushed the primitive metal door open, the hinges groaning in protest, and was met with the shrill chime of a tiny bell announcing his arrival. At once, the pungent tang of cleaning fluids assaulted his olfactory sensor. He loathed that sterile, mundane scent. It clung to plating, seeped into seams, a constant reminder of scrubbing away stains one didn’t wish to remember.
The shop itself was cramped, every available surface crammed with new and salvaged components: Windshields, thrusters, wheel rims, even fragments of entire frame types. Soundwave’s optics lingered briefly on the frames.
Frame types were not a common find. In fact, if a mechanic had more than one, it was beyond suspicious. A faint curiosity lingered in the Tapedeck’s processor, but he was quick to push it aside. Best not to know. Best not to look.
The lighting was dim, casting long shadows between the racks. The air felt heavy, the atmosphere depressingly familiar. Maybe because he’d been here a few times too many.
In the far-left corner loomed a heavy, sliding door. The moment his optics aligned with it, the mechanism hissed, and it parted without warning. His cooling fans spun faster.
Too quick.
A small panic began to rise within his spark.
Caliper’s hideous faceplates slid into view, the mech attempting a pitiful attempt of a welcoming smile.
“Ahhh! Hello! How may-”
The warmth vanished the instant his blue optics locked with Soundwave’s orange visor. The mechanic slumped, letting out a low growl.
“Whaddya want?!” he spat, venom lacing every syllable.
The small metal stick- as Soundwave had privately dubbed it- rolled lazily along the mechanic’s glossa, obeying subtle micro-commands until it rested at the edge of the larger mech’s derma. Panic pinged through his processors, sending his cooling fans into a low, jittery spin.
Keep it together. Do not… malfunction. Do not give him any reason to hurt you. Just… get this over with as quickly as possible.
Whenever repairs were required, he had no choice but to rely on Caliper. And that wretched mech ensured every visit was as miserable as the last, if not worse. Everybot despised Soundwave, yet few had the creativity to make agony into a craft.
Inflated prices, unnecessary delays, and deliberate mishandling of parts. Caliper had mastered it. And now, as always, Soundwave’s internal circuits hummed louder, warning of impending confrontation.
Without a word leaving his vocalizer, he strode towards the bench where trades and 'pleasures' were exchanged, gingerly placing a brown mesh bag on the table. Tiny clicks and clinks came from within- the fragile glass of his broken visor inside.
Caliper seized the bag with no care for delicacy, untied the knot, and after a pregnant pause, dropped it from high above. The shattering sound of his old visor ricocheted through Soundwave’s auditory sensors, sending a sharp spike of panic through his processors.
No… no, no, no… not again…
He dared a glance at the larger mech.
“Twelve hundred Shanix for a re-make. Can’t turn this slagheap into a blimen’ visor!” Caliper barked, trying to make his price sound reasonable.
Soundwave flinched visibly, his circuits overheating as the memory replayed. Deliberate, malicious, unnecessary. The visor only required re-heating and realignment of a few loose parts. He knows that. He’s doing this on purpose. Panic spiked, rising from processor to vocalizer.
Deep. Controlled vents. Slow... Measured...
“Understands: repair may be costly. Protest: lowering price to fair-”
“FAIR?!” Caliper slammed his heavy servos on the flimsy table, sending a cascade of spare parts clattering to the deck. The Tapedeck’s frame jumped at the noise.
“This is BEYOND fair! If your aft is so upset about the price, go elsewhere!”
The words hit like a hammer to the helm. Soundwave had ventured to every known mechanic in Altihex. This was the only damn establishment that accepted his unwelcomed presence. And Caliper was well aware of that. His helm dipped, optics fluttering under the visor, and a quivering voice emerged.
“Payment:.... Accepted.”
A heavy huff and nod in response, then the Tapedeck reached into his subspace pocket for a thicker bag, lined with golden string. He poured most of its contents onto the table before Caliper, who felt a flicker of mischief in the larger mech’s optics. A cruel, deliberate flourish. The metal stick twitched to the other side.
“Oh- and I’m gonna need to make another measurement for the visor,” Caliper added, a smirk snaking across his derma.
Soundwave cocked his helm in confusion, a cold spike of dread running through his system. Panic surged again, faintly audible in the almost imperceptible jitter of his servos. The blue mech tried playing it off.
“Query: Previous assessment not satisfactory?”
“Nah, lost ’em.” Caliper huffed nonchalantly, shrugging with faux innocence.
“The ‘prints were lost while I was cleanin’.”
Soundwave’s optics sharpened behind his temporary visor.
Again? Must everything be so.... complicated?
His servos twitched. He felt the first ripple of a visible panic rising, tiny whines escaping through micro-vents.
“Advice: Could give blueprints stored in residence-”
The words barely left his vocalizer before a hard slam on the abused table cut him off. The loner couldn’t help but take a step back.
“Look, ya want this damn visor fixed or not?!” The mechanic barked, his optics narrowing into a glare that pinned Soundwave in place. His spark did not appreciate this level of stress.
“Affirmative...” He replied in monotone, but the blue mech’s servos betrayed him. A faint stutter, a jitter of panic creeping into his posture. Caliper didn’t seem to notice- or care.
Soundwave hesitated, then hurriedly counted out another three hundred Shanix, placing them on the table with a slight tremor. The urge to fling the coins at Caliper’s faceplates burned in his circuits, but logic- and desperation- won. Dirty servos snatched the payment greedily.
“Hurry up!” the mechanic called impatiently, disappearing into the sliding door.
Soundwave exhaled sharply through vent-ways, though the relief barely settled. He scanned the smaller room, the walls lined with saws, hooks, and chains. Every sharp edge seemed designed to intimidate.
Why does it feel like a perfect murder chamber?
“Oi!” Caliper’s voice cut through the smaller mech’s processing.
“Over ’ere.”
Soundwave approached a sturdier table, trying to steady himself, but every step was jittery. He climbed onto the low table, actuators tight, optics darting.
Just a quick measurement. Just a few kliks…Then this will all be over.
The dirty yellow mech picked up a thick, sharp rod, and Soundwave flinched back visibly, his panic slipping outward for the first time.
“Preference: Would desire to keep current visor intact and unmoved.” The Tapedeck spoke, vents spinning nervously.
“Ya jus’ wanna make everything difficult!” Caliper growled, tossing the torture-looking rod aside. He retrieved a more familiar tool, a thin metal ruler snapped into a triangular holder, a complicated caliper of sorts.
“Don’t move.” He said in a low grumble.
The device was shoved against Soundwave’s visor. Panic hit full throttle. His servos jolted, his forearms tensed, and a loud hiss escaped his vent-ways as he recoiled instinctively. For a few nano-kliks, he tried to interrupt vent-flow to steady himself.
It was useless. The snap of the tool pressed against his temporary visor, and a loud crack split the room. The broken gap widened, almost exposing his left optic.
Soundwave leapt back, nearly toppling over his rear strut. Only quick reflexes saved him from colliding helm-first into an iron anvil. His vents hissed frantically, trembling frame now audible.
“I TOLD YA NOT TO MOVE!!”
The yell reverberated through Soundwave’s helm, every vibration setting his circuits on high alert. Before he could react, strong servos gripped his chassis, hauling him upright. His plating scraped against the edge of the table, and his arm struts braced instinctively, but the larger mech’s strength was absolute.
His processor raced, fragments of rational thought colliding with pure, blind panic.
Must remain still… must not provoke… cannot afford any more damage… must stay quiet… must survive this…cannot anger him further...
Every micron of his frame tensed, deep vents surged uncontrollably as his optics darted frantically, tracking every movement of Caliper’s massive frame. The grip around his chassis was invasive, aggressive, and utterly violating.
Why is it always this close? Why does it always feel like…
He’s suffocating me!
Soundwave’s vent-ways hissed in desperation, almost producing a sound he would have never admitted aloud, a quivering emission betraying his fear.
Cannot move… cannot move… cannot move…
But every part of his plating wanted to recoil.
The longer Caliper’s hold remained, the hotter his processor burned, forcing a tight, jittering rhythm in his servos.
If I fail to comply....if I shift even a micro-metre....visor, chassis, optics.....everything....could be destroyed....
He froze entirely, every thought compressed into a single directive:
Survive, endure, remain inert.
Yet, beneath the veneer of outward compliance. His spark wanted to leap out of his spark chamber. Internal panic surged in spikes, each one threatening to short his calm facade.
“UGH, I ain’t payin’ for slag! That was entirely your fault!!”
Soundwave didn’t even notice his cooling fans whirring at maximum. Every thought became fragmented:
Was this intentional? Was it for the shanix? Or...just...torture?
Caliper steadied and resumed the measurement, ignoring the blue mech entirely. Soundwave froze, the only movement being his optics, scanning around the dimly-lit room, frame ready to flinch again. He could feel his outer plating shiver, but made his best attempt at remaining still.
Let this be over....
Please...
“Done!” The mechanic yelled, typing something into a datapad before tossing the tool aside. He gripped Soundwave’s shoulder axle with armour-denting force and dragged him out of the small room, giving a push that nearly tripped the Tapedeck over the threshold. Luckily, Soundwave managed to steady himself after only a stumble, ex-venting in relief.
He didn’t even register the small bell ringing until Caliper’s facade shifted entirely, transforming into the sickeningly welcoming EM field aimed at the next customer.
“Ahh! Welcome to Caliper’s Repair Shop! I’m the one and only mech with the best repairmechship out there! How may I help ya, Sir?” The mechanic waved a dismissive servo at the blue mech.
“Don’t mind that thing- I was just getting rid of the glitch.”
Soundwave ignored the words entirely, processor bristling at how unfair it was. The abrupt shift from violent torment to fake charm, repeated over a nano-klik, always hurt, always made his spark ache despite the rational logic telling him it was nothing more than a programmed facade. It shouldn’t have affected the Tapedeck so much.
“Now lemmie see…ehh…yes…mm…Ya jus' need to replace this thruster, here!” Caliper’s manipulator hovered over the component.
“Brand new thruster for only four-fifty! And I can throw in some extra four-inch bolts in case it loosens!”
Soundwave froze mid-step. The price alone was laughable. It was disgustingly cheap compared to his visor repair- and Caliper knew it. Every visit, every cycle, this same mechanic found a way to squeeze him dry. The Tapedeck’s optics narrowed, and his vent-ways hissed softly with frustration.
By the time he finally exited the damp, claustrophobic shop, every actuator felt as though lead weights were drilled into his skeletal frame. The promise of the library, quiet processors, and a favourite story to lose himself in all seemed unreachable. Today, every ounce of energy had been drained. Each insult, every shove, the violating holds and grasps, left him exhausted, simmering, and quietly fuming.
Too tired to argue....too scared to fight....too spent to read....
Just...tired...
A dainty servo flips in the air, sharp digits curling inwards as the owner inspects them for the seventh time this breem.
''Well- did you at least get a date with that freak??'' High-pitched tone ringing out annoying the large, short-tempered mech in front of him.
''I already told you, Starscream-'' Said gremlin, interrupted.
''-And he ran off!! CLEARLY, you've done something wrong- how are we going to-''
“We?” Megatron interjected, silver plating rising in anger. “Last I checked, I have been doing all the fragging work!” His temper flared for a moment before he forced himself to relax, sinking back into the small chair- or what could generously be called a chair- thin, bent, and nearly incapable of supporting his weight.
Between them sat a fancy, patterned table, swirls of metallic flowers and leaves decorating its frail legs and rim. The silver mech couldn’t fathom how it could hold both servos, let alone withstand any serious use.
The drinks didn’t help the absurdity. Megatron had ordered a simple glass of vintage high-grade, only to receive something that looked as if it were forged millions of vorns ago. Starscream’s drink was even stranger, so complicated that processing it without losing sanity was a challenge. Megatron wisely ignored it.
“Excuse me?” The troublemaker’s helm lowered, optical ridges raised, servo resting delicately on his chassis. His expression screamed I think the frag not.
“I’M the mech that came up with the genius idea!” Starscream scoffed at his own words, twirling digits around the rim of his glass.
“If anything, I think I deserve some respect.”
Megatron let out a slow ex-vent, denta clenching in mild annoyance.
“I came here to ask for advice, you little shrew.” He tried not to show how much the seeker affected him, but every word coming out of that Primus-forsaken mechs derma made it impossible not to hurl the occasional insult.
Before Starscream could react, Megatron continued.
“He does not seem to listen! I said I had some… attraction toward the mech- I even gave the bot crystal flowers!” He grimaced, recalling the awkward words he spoke to the loner:
The uhhh... the colour reminded me of you...
He thought it would capture the mech’s spark. Clearly, he had no idea what he was doing. It’s not as though he was experienced in any kind of romantic advances.
During his more renowned cycles in the gladiator rings, he had femmes and mechs falling helm over heel for him. And thus it was easy to lure any of them to berth. But other than the occasional frag with a random fan, the silver mech hadn’t experienced anything real.
For a brief moment, Megatron allowed himself to wonder what love actually felt like. He had never known; romantic movies and datapads felt stale, lacking sincerity. Just as the thought passed, he recalled his first ‘official’ meeting with the blue mech.
Nervous, spark racing, unsure why his systems reacted this way. It was similar to how his spark would beat right before a fight in the rings, however, different. It wasn’t the same exhilaration pumping through his Energon; it felt more raw.
“I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU!!” The hellion shrieked, then immediately dropped to a lower, venomous tone.
“You weren’t even listening!! UGH!” He leaned over the table, small servos gripping Megatron’s helm- faceplates nearly touching, forcing the silver mech to lock optics with the Seeker.
Megatron remained still, optic ridges flickering. The dramatic mech’s grip was firm but precise. Starscream’s frustration radiated, high-pitched and jittery, yet under it was something sharper. A spark of curiosity, a manic energy that refused to let the conversation collapse into silence.
Starscream jabbed a digit at the table while maintaining one servo on the other mech’s faceplates.
“You give flowers, you blather awkward nonsense, and then expect the mech to respond perfectly?! Do you even see how absurd that is?!”
Megatron ex-vented slowly, the low hums vibrating along his plating.
“I am aware, Starscream. That is why I require counsel... not theatrics.”
Starscream glared, optics narrowing.
“Counsel? Me? I’m not your polite advice-bot! I’m screaming because you refuse to pay attention! Are you even capable of romance, Megatron, or is that too advanced?”
The larger mech growled in response. He had to deal with the petty insults thrown his way for just a few more breems. It was more time-efficient this way.
“Books,” he muttered, letting the word roll through his processors as if tasting it for the first time.
“Simple. Effective. Less... theatrical.”
Starscream, still lounging with one servo propping his chin plate, flicked an optical ridge.
“Less theatrical? Oh, Megatron, that is the worst thing you could ever be! Where’s the drama? Where’s the flair? You have to sell it!”
The brute groaned, shifting slightly against the chair, plating creaking under the stress.
“I’d rather not dive into theatrics. I need something minimal...subtle.”
The seeker’s optics flared as if offended.
“Minimal?! Subtle?! That is boring! You want him to notice you, don’t you? You have to stand out! You need to-”
“Starscream,” Megatron interrupted, voice flat but firm.
“I do not require a performance. I require results.” He flexed his wrist actuators, grabbing a hold of the seeker’s arm struts.
“If you wish to continue your... commentary, do it quietly, out of my faceplates.” And with that, the brute pushed him away.
The Seeker huffed, wings drooping, then shot a grin that was part challenge, part mischief.
“Fine, fine. Quiet. But don’t think I won’t be watching! I will judge your every move!”
Megatron sighed, lowering his optics briefly. Every move, every nuance.....He supposed he could handle that. He had handled Starscream before. It was not the Seeker’s judgment that concerned him. It was the impossibility of predicting exactly what chaotic suggestion would come next.
Starscream leaned back, digits drumming a rapid, exaggerated pattern against the glass of his incomprehensible beverage.
“One more thing,” he added casually, optics narrowing.
“Don’t you dare let him see how nervous you are. That’s....ugh, the worst! You’ll ruin everything if he senses even a spark of uncertainty.” Starscream waved his servos dramatically.
Megatron’s servos flexed. “I am capable of control.”
Starscream’s smirk widened.
“Yes, yes, of course. The controlled, stoic, ex-gladiator Megatron! Right. Just remember, if you slip, I will know. And the fun? Oh, it will be mine.” The gremlin cackled as if Unicron himself had possessed the seeker.
A silence fell over the tiny, ornate table, quiet words spoken amongst the other bots sitting at adjacent tables. Megatron closed his optics briefly, collecting his thoughts. Books. Minimal theatrics. No nervous sparks. Simple. Clear. Practical. The plan was....manageable.
Starscream, sensing the end of the lecture, leaned forward one last time.
“Good. Now go, you overgrown bolt casing! Go and acquire. Make it happen. And remember what happens if you fail.” The last words loomed in threat as the seeker caressed the rim of his glass.
Megatron rose slowly, towering over the Seeker, optics fixed forward with measured determination. He chose not to say another word, knowing it would only be hurling insults at his friend. He dropped a few shanix on the table to cover his beverage. Starscream, meanwhile, settled back, wings folding in contentment, certain he had successfully meddled... yet again.
With that, Megatron turned, his plating puffing out before relaxing onto his frame in an attempt to settle his processor.
He had a book in mind.
Walking down the usual route to his residence, making sure to stay out of anybot’s way, Soundwave was interrupted by a sudden shout. These areas were usually quiet, and he wouldn’t have even bothered to look up if it hadn’t been nearby. For a nano-klik, Soundwave thought he’d gotten on some mech’s gears, but as he glanced to his right, what he saw made his vents hitch.
There, sitting next to Megatron, was Starscream. He knew that bot; the Seeker would gladly insult him just to get a few laughs or ‘popularity’ points. The blue mech wasn’t very fond of him, but then again, he wasn’t fond of anybot. He was about to turn away, not wanting to catch the attention of his supposed ‘admirer,’ although what the Tapedeck saw next halted all movements.
The Seeker rushed to grab a hold of the silver mech’s helm, almost as if he were just about to kiss him. He was speaking. What words were spoken, the blue mech did not know- but it looked intimate. As soon as he saw the large mech grab a hold of the Seeker’s wrists, Soundwave turned away, hurrying to his apartment faster than before.
The tired Tapedeck rushed through his complex, giving the command to lock the door with a jittering series of clicks that sounded far too loud in the silent space. Servos pressed to his spark chamber, he tried to process what he’d just witnessed, but his thoughts were a storm of static and panic.
He could see the image of them together over and over, each replay twisting his fluid channels tighter.
Optics flickering, he pressed his back strut to the wall and attempted to slow his processor, but every angle, every possibility of what that meant, spiraled through him unchecked.
Was he in…? Could he be…?
Stop being so dramatic
No. No, that’s impossible… right?
What did you expect???
As if anybot could like you??
The Tapedeck was at war with his own processor. His feelings exploded into a mixture of betrayal and panic.
His servos trembled, some part of him screaming that none of this was real. The advances from the towering mech....the flower....the words...Then the image resurfaced in his processor.
He couldn’t tear himself away from the memory of the gentle closeness, the unexpected intimacy. How Starscream's servo was so gently wrapped around Megatron’s helm. And the way the silver mech advanced- gripping the seeker’s wrist actuators.
Soundwave sank further into himself, venting soft, frustrated air into the empty apartment, a futile attempt to release the panic building in his spark. Every scenario played out in impossible speed: What if Megatron and the seeker were just toying with him?
What if the ex-gladiator simply had twenty different lovers at the same time? Or he was flirting with Soundwave for the thrill of the hunt, only to beat the loner into the ground right when he accepts?
The blue mech sinks further into the floor. Servos clenched over his cracked visor as he tried to regain control of his systems.
How could I have been so foolish?
Notes:
Get ready for some spark-racing action in the next chapter!!
Chapter 5: Trouble
Summary:
Soundwave bumps into a familiar bot.
Notes:
Intake = Mouth
Actuators = Joints
Derma = Lips
Tick/ Nano-klik = 1 Second
Klik = 1.2 minutes
Joor / Groon = 1 Hour 15 minutes
Orbital Cycle / Solar cycle = 1 Day
Rotation / Phase = 1 month-ish
Optical ridge = Eyebrow
Coolant = Tears
(Core) Processor = Brain
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
A heavy ex-vent leaves the mech's systems as equilibrium sensors prepare to cycle the next breath, trying to count the number of orbital cycles he has done this exact same ritual. Sitting on a bench in the small Crystal Flower park that happens to be facing the library, the Cyber-Birds melting into the background as they once were a distractive nuisance.
Almost...calming. Nervous digits fiddle with the spine of the book he held within his servos, taking a glance at it for the millionth time, trying to find any scuff marks or creased corners. This very book happened to be of his favourite subject- of course, not a spark was ever to know that it was poetry.
Well...maybe with one exception
Megatron hoped with his entire spark that the lonely mech took a fancy to the subject. There was a secret to this particular book and he hoped the sentimental value would increase his chances of capturing Soundwave's spark, although he had no idea of telling him without revealing the secret he so desperately kept.
Maybe he'll just make some other excuse; a half-lie would be his best shot. Releasing his thoughtful gaze off the book cover, the large mech returns to staring directly at the entryway of the library, slouching his spinal cord to a position of boredom.
Maybe I should buy some hardened Energon sweets? Does the mute like that? Although to truly be special it would have to be different...it would have to be well thought out. Megatron was just about to rise to his pedes but froze before he could lift himself off. What if he hates sweets...maybe he's into more savoury dishes!
With anxious uncertainty, the silver mech made way to a place he'd never think to set pede in.
It was a disgustingly clean place, full of shining crystals as every pillar supporting the sparkling ceiling that happened to adorn the rarest of translucent minerals. Twinkling at the slightest movement from below.
The bots that had enough shanix to enter were polished to the finest of details, giving odd glances to the dented frame towering over most bots. The smell in the rather small shop was sweet, not enough to force Megatron into shutting off his olfactory sensors, but just enough to vent with ease. It was almost euphoric.
He would never admit he had the slightest liking for the boutique. Not even on his gravestone.
''Ahh- Good Cycle, my ehh-Handsome friend!'' An annoyingly elegant voice distracted the silver mech from his pondering.
''How may I have the pleasure of serving you?'' A small bow was directed at the brute. Megatron took a moment to stare, bewildered.
A slim frame with strangely sharp-looking shoulder points, chassis plates that would give no clue as to what alt-mode he may have, and expertly designed boots that complemented his overly styled thigh-guards, along with the rest of his frame. Never had he seen such a bizarre frame-type, he looked almost alien.
''Uhh- I'm just looking for some exotic treats...'' The very sentence Megatron forced out caused him to wince at the use of such words. The strange mech seemed to have known exactly what it was that the brute wanted and exclaimed.
''Ahhh! Yes, of course!'' He turned around and began walking away with a wave of his servo, the silver mech reluctantly followed with a grunt of displeasure and a scowl never leaving his faceplates as the other began to ramble. Optics failing to roll behind his helm to see the innards of his own processor, Megatron was forced to listen.
''We have the finest selection in all of Cybertron- that, I can guarantee! Blue Energon Ziners, hardened crystal treats, copper flakes with sprinkled platinum deliciously mixed in with liquid Mercury!'' The blabbering came to an abrupt halt with a clap of his servos as the owner of the store turned around to finally face the large brute with an almost terrifying look of glee.
''-And my favourite! The violet Amethyst flower, otherwise known as the Lilac Lily!'' He tilted his helm up in self-appreciation with both optics closed.
''Now I know Lily may seem quite strange- well that is because it is not from this planet, not even the neighbouring solar system!''
''-How intriguing'' The large mech finally intervened, afraid he may rust if he did not prevent the other from speaking furthermore.
''Indeed.'' Was the reply of the lanky mech as he began to search for something between drawers. Then an idea almost hit Megatron helm first at lightning speed.
''How, uhhh often do bots buy this...flower..?'' He questioned with absolutely no confidence, thinking of the multiple reactions he could get from Soundwave with something he may have never seen. A heavy sigh left the smaller mech's frame before turning to face him again.
''Well, I'd say only a mech foolish or rich enough will buy it, every once in a while...They don't help my business since the price has to skyrocket from an ordinary treat to something really extravagant. Most of the value comes from the fuel consumption of the Interstellar Rocket Traveller. It can take up to four rotations!'' Every sentence that came out of this bot's intake was oddly optimistic, and Megatron was starting to grow tired of it. He loathed superficial enthusiasm.
''Huh...'' The large mech pretended to be interested more than he actually was, rubbing his chin guard thoughtfully with rough digits.
''Well I am looking for something exotic, I suppose I'll take it.'' He finished with a monotone but was struggling to contain the excitement within his systems. He couldn't wait to see Soundwave's reaction once he saw this fascinating piece. Why his spark fluttered at the image of the Tapedeck holding the delicate, ornate crystal, he did not know.
''Very well!'' The seller exclaims in pure glee whilst clapping his servos together before going off behind the counter.
''I must say, I didn't take you for the delicate romantic type.'' The slim bot says almost teasingly. Megatron lets out a single dry chuckle.
''I'm intending to impress.'' He replies with a soft smile, looking off into the distance, but is quickly brought back into the present as the other mech begins to talk again.
''-And I would be! This is truly a unique gift, a one of a kind! -Oh, before I forget'' His tone reduces to something closer to the normal side as the strange bot gently picks the lilac lily from its copper-made pedestal.
''Not only is this edible, but you may choose to keep it as a decoration!'' The seller’s optics widen in excitement as he begins to carefully turn the jewel-like treat. Bathed in the store’s artificial light, the flower never ceased to glow with its fullest brilliance.
''It lasts..for a lifetime.'' He says the last part almost dreamily.
Without another word, he walks back over to the counter and wraps it in a very fine and delicate material that could rip at the slightest tug. It was a nice matte change of tone to dampen the overly sparkly effect the flower gave off.
All topped off with a mesh ribbon, as it was carefully placed in a simple yet beautiful box. The brute began to lose focus of reality for a mere moment, just processing the image of the loner’s reaction made his chambers flutter.
''That'll be....'' A few beeps and blips were heard on a one-sided monitor facing the slim mech.
''Three thousand, seven hundred and eighty-two Shanix'' Spinal strut straightening, the unnamed mech gave a very professional stance, and Megatron could barely process the information being said. Without much further thought, Megatron convinced himself that it would all be worth it. His dignity.....is worth it.
Finally out of that damned place, the silver mech takes a deep in-vent before going back to the bench that sits within optical view of the library. It doesn't take long for Megatron to become nervous and carefully take the box out of his subspace, playing with the corners as if it was some marvellous puzzle nobot has ever solved before. All the while, his optics were focused on the library.
As much as Soundwave knew it, he was too reluctant to admit it.
He was jealous.
Every time the quiet mech even began to process the thought he would scoff louder than the creaking of metal from the front door whenever it slid open. That was the only sound he seemed to produce for the past few orbital cycles, that and a heavy sigh here and there.
He was beating himself up over the fact that he was jealous over a non-existent relationship and was even more self-loathing when the loner knew he shouldn't even be affected by any of this. Nobot likes him and vice versa. Why did he have to make it so difficult for himself and even comprehend falling for a bot like Megatron?
Stupid....
Soundwave tries to think back before he knew the large mech. He may have seen him here and there, and 90% of the time, he was with Starscream, so Soundwave never put much thought into this 'Megatron' being a nice mech. He certainly didn't look like a pleasant bot, not with that eternal scowl etched into his faceplates.
Soundwave frowned at the thought. The large mech never held an expression of disgust or judgment when he looked at Soundwave, it was either flustered or as if the mech was trying to see into his very processor through his visor.
The blue mech groaned and rolled over lazily on the lounge-seat he happened to be laying on for several joors already. Why was this mech infecting every thought he possessed, it was both aggravating and upsetting.
Soundwave concluded, downing half a cube of leftover Energon from the morning before, and falling asleep, faceplates first on the berth. He would deal with this conundrum tomorrow.
Megatron released a heavy ex-vent as dusk set in, only half the sun was peaking through the horizon. The library closed over three joors ago, but for some foolish reason, Megatron hoped that he would come anyway.
A mixture of hope and desperation to keep his dignity...yes. Carefully placing the gift box back in his subspace, Megatron lifted himself off of the park bench and drove his way home. He was too tired to walk.
By the time the brute arrived at the small apartment, it was dark out, the hesitant flicker of the street lights being his only source of light. He gently placed the gift-wrapped box on the table- leaving the book in his subspace. The brute was too exhausted to take a solvent shower and went to switch off all the light arrays before hiding under the warmth of thick berth covers.
Morning comes a little too quickly, but the blue mech finally made the decision to give himself a quick scrub in the wash racks. Primus knew he needed it. After that, he finally made his way to the library. He could not keep avoiding Megatron like this.
He could not let this mech control his function, where he goes, what he does. It is simply illogical to be making such a fuss over a bot who doesn't even have the ability to care. Besides...Megatron has enough to think about with Starscream hovering so close to him all the time.
Soundwave's feelings go bitter for a nano-klik before his optics set on a fresh Energon cube hovering just above the Energon dispenser. The Tapedeck understood that Energon was vital for his systems, yet a spark of resistance stirred in his processor. A weary, hollow weight pressed into his plating. The low whine of starving fuel tanks followed him as he turned his back on the apartment.
I’ll have a cube when I get back....
Soundwave walked over to the library almost angrily, but all stress and tension were quick to leave his frame as soon as that all too familiar scent hit his sensors. A deep in-vent before a slow ex-vent, and he made his way to the 'hidey-hole'. Satisfied that it wasn’t accompanied by anybot, the loner headed straight to the isle of fiction and started browsing.
Megatron was running. He would have transformed into his alt mode if it weren't for the busy walkways towards the park. He made a small mistake of sleeping in, and even though the silver mech kept telling himself it didn't matter since the loner was probably not going to come today, it still ached in his spark to be a joor and a half late from the opening time of the library.
With quick pacing vents, he finally made it to the park in front of the library and sat on the same bench he had the previous orbital cycle. It had a perfect angle to the front doors of the complex, where Megatron wouldn't have to strain his neck cabling in some unnatural pose to keep a constant optic on it.
Slowly, Megatron opened his subspace, reaching for the neatly gift-wrapped box. His optics widened in disbelief. Only the book was there.
A loud CLANK echoed through the quiet streets. Megatron slammed a servo on his faceplates. He ignored the curious gawks of passing strangers, each a minor irritation compared to the storm raging in his processor.
FRAG IT.
He had forgotten the best part of the gift. The one thing that mattered.
But he couldn’t go back. Not now. Not while Soundwave might leave the library. One wrong move, one missed note, and the plan would collapse. The thought gnawed at him, like a rust bug biting into his processor with malicious precision.
Megatron let out a long, mechanical ex-vent, plating creaking. He was screwed- and he knew it.
Realising the past could not be undone, he let his servos find the other gift. One that carried a piece of himself, a fragment of his spark. His book. The mech wanted to ensure it was perfect. He fluttered the pages until he hit the eighth part of the paperback.
It was quite unusual to own a paperback book of any kind, as it was a rather new concept brought in by a frequent astro-traveller. However, after discovery, they became insanely popular with the literary community, and marketing helped establish the permanence of these ‘reads in new form’ all over Cybertron. Along with this came the ‘ink pen’.
This idea was a lot less popular as the majority of Cybertronians were in the firm belief that data culture is, and forever should be, digital. However, to counter this overflow of loud opinions, a small but passionate following writhed in every aspect of this new ink pen. One of the first bots to publicly announce their opinion for the ink pen was no bot other than Jetfire.
This well-respected scientist spoke his mind on how he always preferred the feel of the stylus on his data pad, and this discovery had only made him more obsessed with holding a physical object between his digits. Jetfire was the main inspiration for other mechs to create an exclusive club on paperbacks and ink pens. They called it ‘Ink and Page’. Jetfire’s opinion on that, however, was unknown.
Megatron had a wavering opinion on joining this small group. On one servo, he could finally let loose on his thoughts to other mechs that would not only understand him, but wouldn’t burst out laughing at the very mention of “I like to write poems in my free time”.
Primus knows Starscream would leech off of the very idea of embarrassing the silver mech more than he already has. This was a well-guarded secret Megatron had absolutely no intention of making public to anyone.
The daydreaming mech frowned at the very thought of dealing with the repercussions. He quickly shook his helm in an attempt to refocus his energy on part eight. He didn’t like the wording on this part, since the brute failed to think of an alternative wording, and over time, he grew to hate it. He chose instead to keep an optic on the library doors.
Megatron hadn’t noticed how many joors had passed until he saw the innkeeper locking the doors to the entrance. Either Soundwave was sleeping in there or he never entered in the first place. The brute slouched in defeat as he placed his book back into his subspace before standing.
Slowly walking out of the dimly lit park as the sun was now, barely visible, the large mech was seemingly just about to head towards the direction of his apartment but was halted by a sudden shout.
Helm turning towards the source, Megatron noticed four bots huddled in a group by the corner of the library. The thing that was out of place was that one of them seemed to be backing away, almost scared. That very bot was holding several books closely to his chassis as if trying to protect the paperbacks.
Fights in an area like this were rather uncommon, but that wasn't why Megatron was suddenly stomping towards the group that had now managed to push the defenceless bot over on the ground. He recognised that visor anywhere. It was Soundwave.
The Tapedeck would've held a small, triumphant warmth in his spark with the fact that he managed to hold onto the books, but that was all null and void once one of the attackers suddenly shoved the quiet mech onto the ground, scattering all of the lovely readings he had picked out for himself to read in his apartment.
The worry for the paperbacks was quickly diminished when the largest of the group saw fit to stomp his heavy pede right into Soundwave's abdominal plating.
Immediately, the blue mech hunched inwards, grabbing onto the leg strut of the said attacker by reflex, heaving. His helm and thus his grip were forced off with a hard kick as if Soundwave’s touch held the most contagious disease.
His processing went black for a nano-klik as the back of his helm made sudden contact with the unforgiving ground beneath him. The pain sensors were finally kicking into high gear.
This is going to be unpleasant.
''I told ya that if ye evah fragged with me again, you'd regret it!'' The mech said with hatred lacing his voice. Soundwave never recalled doing anything wrong by this mech, but he recognised this mech from before- the one he had happened to bump into accidentally.
Soundwave just wanted the comfort of his own berth and his precious paperbacks by his side as he fell into recharge reading them. But no, his night was going to be ruined by the inevitable pain looming over his spark.
The blue mech began to process why these mechs were so bothered by him. It most probably started as an insecurity from youngling-hood.
Did they happen to just coincidentally find me again?
No.
This time, they sought him out. They knew of the Tapedeck’s location and struck right when everybot had every reason to be in their homes.
‘'An' I brough' sum friends, ehh?'' He questioned as if seeking the downed mech’s approval for his masterful plan. Soundwave didn't see the point in releasing an apologetic EM signal this time. He didn't even see the need to verbally object.
It was obvious that this mech wasn't going to back off. It’d be a waste of time...a waste of energy. Optical fluids began to slowly trickle from behind Soundwave’s cracked visor. His spark tightened as the impending doom grew closer.
The nameless mech then began to step towards the downed bot. Soundwave didn't know what to expect when he stepped over and set his pedes on either side of the blue mechs hips. A cruel smirk combined with a chuckle left the attacker's voice box before lowering his frame until the larger mech was sitting on Soundwave's mid-section.
Both knee plates were resting on the cool ground as the mech put all of his weight on the other. An almost inaudible whine left the mute’s vocalizer as he struggled to keep his usual composure from the pain shooting in every sensor.
Quick, laboured venting and a slight helm tilt gave Soundwave the sight of an unruly evil set of faceplates. The attacker towered over him as a deeply unsettling feeling sank to the pit of Soundwave’s spark.
The blue mech’s circuits felt fried, his vents hitching at every micro-movement the attacker made. Armour plating stiffening into a defensive position. Bracing for impact.
Please let this be over quickly...
Before the attacker could make a move, all was interrupted by an enraged voice booming from the side.
''HEY!! What the frag do you think you're doing?!'' Megatron himself was storming over with fury edged into his optics, the intent to hurt written all over his faceplates. This ruckus caught the attention of the large mech above him as he slowly turned his helm to the oncoming noise, an irritated ex-vent leaving his vents.
The Tapedeck’s optics darted back and forth in panic.
''Boys.'' Was the only command that was heard, and the other two mechs that were tagging along for the ride immediately stepped in his path as Megatron was now only a few feet away from Soundwave's pathetic frame.
What the two mechs didn't expect was for Megatron to punch the frag out of both of them with a single swing. Seeing this, the largest mech quickly hopped off of Soundwave and ducked under the incoming attack before laying down a nasty punch on the soft metal on the side of Megatron’s mid-section.
“NO!” Soundwave cried out with raw emotion. His monotone mask completely fading.
The hit stunned the silver mech for enough time to receive another nasty collision on the faceplates before the mech, which happened to be a helm smaller than Megatron, was yelling at his comrades to get up and 'deal with it'.
Soundwave honestly thought that Megatron could take these mechs down, seeing how he handled the first two.
Sliding aside that his arrival was conveniently illogical, Megatron’s build and size were enough to guarantee a win, although the numbers were not in his favour. There was only one of him and three of them. Even though all three were smaller in size, the main mech must've had a skill in street fighting. Megatron didn't seem to be experienced in the matter. It must have been different from the gladiator rings.
The attacker’s attention quickly returned. Soundwave flinched the slightest when his dark optics met him. Before he knew it, his arm strut was roughly handled as Soundwave was forced to stand on wobbly leg struts. Everything was happening too quickly to even process how to ease the situation.
Fight back....
''Why the frag are ye defending this scrap heap?'' The large mech seemed almost stunned as he held a tight grip on the blue mech’s arm strut, almost lifting him off the ground as said mech desperately tried to pry free.
He couldn’t allow his own misfortune to be placed on somebot that just wanted to help. The two other mechs violently secured a good grip of Megatron before holding him in place. The brute grinding his denta as if he wanted to vanquish the sparks of everybot in his sight.
''Nobot cares about 'im and all of a sudden we gotah knight in shinnin' fraggin' armour for this glitch?'' He spits on the ground by said mech's pedes. Soundwave’s upper arm strut suddenly gave in. The combination of the attackers rough grip and awkward angle tore one of his fluid channels.
Energon gushed from the wound as a horrible pain flared through his entire appendage. A small yelp unintentionally escaped his vocaliser. This seemed to anger Megatron further.
''That's none of your damn business!! He's done nothing wrong to you! And what- you just beat him up for fun?? Grow the frag up!!'' Megatron tenses and begins to test his captors' strength by making an attempt to wriggle free, but to no avail. This comment seems to get a genuine, albeit ugly, laugh out of the attacker before he 'Ooohs' teasingly, his mechs parroting mockingly in the background.
''So yer like 'im, ehh?'' The mech cocks his helm with that slag-eating grin of his.
''How interesting...'' His gaze slowly tracks back to the helpless mute, still attempting to pry off the tight, armour-bending grip on his arm strut.
What Soundwave doesn't expect is to be unceremoniously dropped on the ground, from the hold he was in, his system didn't have enough time to react and thus he ended up landing on the side of his backstrut. The action momentarily knocked the wind out of his vents.
''Leave him the frag alone!!'' Megatron growls between clenched denta.
''Well then, let's see how fahr this...affection goes..'' He finishes with a dark chuckle as his pede rolls the mute over flat on his backstrut before landing with both knee platings hard on Soundwaves chassis, severely cracking the glass protecting his spark within.
The next thing Soundwave can register besides Megatron's protesting is a cold servo wrapping a tight hold on his neck cables. Slowly cutting off main-system airways, forcing the blue mech’s actions to be sloppy and uncalculated.
Without proper airflow, the blue mech’s systems would quickly overheat, possibly causing permanent damage. Then, his optical sensors glaze over towards Megatron’s struggling pedes, the night coming on, the sun disappearing by the horizon, a loud ringing obstructs the ability to properly comprehend the words being said.
It takes another dull throb to notice that Soundwave is being struck on the side of his helm. That's when the terrible pain sensors kick into hyperdrive. His entire frame was screaming at him to fight back just enough to run away.
Run.
Get up.
Get your aft up and run the frag out of here.
Leave him there. He doesn’t even care about you. This is probably just some egoistic frenzy for him...
Trying to prove himself...
Come on.
GET UP.
Soundwave simply lay there, taking the hits like a good mech. A well-behaved youngling....his sire used to say as he beat him senselessly and made sure to layer the praise with endless insults. It's not as if Soundwave had a reason to care. The pain is still something he cannot get used to, but the feeling of the hits and even tightening neck cables is strangely, nicely familiar.
The hits suddenly stop at some blurred comment. Soundwave is too dazed to discern the words properly, but he can feel a weight lifted off of his chassis. This is when the Tapedeck finally gathers enough energy to switch on his visor. The sight came to the blue mech like a sudden wave of cold shock possessing his frame.
His optics darted helplessly between Megatron and the other three mechs. Terror-filled spark rose in temperature, frantically whirring. His actuators were frozen in fear as he stared helplessly at the beating his saviour was receiving.
His processor screaming alarms he couldn’t act on. He froze, pinned by his own fear, every nano-klik stretching into eternity as punches and strikes rained down on the silver mech. His systems screamed in protest, but he could only watch, frozen, unable to process a plan, unable to intervene, unable to do anything but witness the carnage.
Move...
MOVE!!
With a ragged choke. Megatron hacked up a thick splatter of Energon, the guttural sound tearing out of him.
No....no, no, no...
''PLEASE! STOP!!'' Soundwave’s voice crackled with broken pleas, any type of typical expressionless tone gone from his voice box as he desperately tried to convince the attacker to get away from his attempted saviour.
The loner’s spark swelled, brimming with a sharp, aching sorrow as frustration bled into pain at the sight before him.
''Please!!'' Soundwave was unable to gather enough energy to lift his frame to stand, so he lazily dragged himself across the ground, closer to the noise of breaking metal.
All three mechs descended on Megatron at once, their blows relentless, turning the fight into a brutal, merciless ambush.
Coolant obstructs part of Soundwave's vision as he finally manages to grab the lower leg strut of the larger mech, holding on in some sort of silent plea. He's simply kicked away at the faceplates, again. Something breaks, but the small mech is in too much of a panic to care.
An indescribable rage bubbles beneath Soundwaves spark. He doesn't care if those mechs hurt him, but Megatron has nothing to do with this, and they're beating him up all because Soundwave couldn’t care for himself.
This was all his fault.
Soundwave’s self-loathing is interrupted at the sight of a loose piece of a metal rod, looking sturdy and heavy enough, he attempts to reach for it with the ill intent of deathly pain towards those three mechs. Then, almost as if Primus himself had arrived to help, a distant siren very quickly grew closer, halting all of the present mechs in their feud.
A single police car is seen speeding directly at them with bright, blaring lights flashing red with blue. This seems to put the three attackers in a panic state, and without further warning, they transform into their motor vehicle modes and speed in some random direction. The police car follows with a loud screech of their tires, desperate to catch the aftbags.
Soundwave practically collapses from his elbow-supported position and lazily stares at the starry night view, the sky holding a beautiful orange and purple shade as the sun is no longer visible.
They're gone.
Soundwave tiredly thinks to himself.
It's okay...
A grunt pulls the battered mech out of any processing as he slowly turns his helm in the direction of the sound. Megatron looks terrible. Most of his upper frame was dented or ruined in one way or another. His arm struts seemed to have taken the brunt of most hits. Somehow, his faceplates held minimal damage.
''Soundwave!'' Megatron stumbles his way to said mech before halting right by the loner's shoulder plating. Servos were frozen just micrometres away from actually touching him.
''Are you...does it hurt?'' The silver mech unknowingly asks, he knows that Soundwave is certainly not fine, and most definitely is in pain, and yet he asks such a question. What is it with these illogical, time-wasting queries.
The blue mech tries to speak but ends up in a coughing fit before he is able to get a word out. His neck cabling feels as if it were on fire, and so the mute rests his own servo on said cables, a silent clue to his problem. The brute seems to understand with an expression of realisation.
''Oh- I see...C-can you uhh..can you stand?'' The large mech cannot form any proper sentence, he seemed awfully panicky. Why? The mute could only guess, but he couldn't care less at this current moment. He made a mental note to think of it later. Maybe over a revitalising Energon cube and a good book. He suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of sadness over his damaged paperbacks spread all around them.
Soundwave slowly began to lift himself up with the help of his arm actuator power, but before he was able to stabilise his sensors, a large warning began to blare within his vision. The head collision must have done more damage than he thought.
''Here, let me help-'' Soundwave cannot help but panic, still in a fight or flight mode. Megatron’s servo is slapped away in a hurry and thus forcing the mute's other elbow to take all upper frame weight, causing his actuators to give in and land on the ground.
At least, some sort of landing was expected, but what the loner did not anticipate was a large, warm servo catching him on his upper backstrut, preventing him from falling onto the hard ground. The loner releases a hurt groan, expecting a lot more pain.
Time itself seemed to become widely irrelevant as it slowed down to an abnormally hypnotic pace. The warmth of Megatron's servo was so gentle and...nice...
Soundwave never experienced a touch without the consequence of pain before; it was so differently pleasant that it took the blue mech a few moments to realise that he was creating an awkward moment between the two. Quickly, he stammered away in an attempt to get free of the comforting hold.
''Please, Soundwave. It's clear you cannot stand on your own, so let me help you..'' Megatron spoke softly, so much so that it brought Soundwave to the brink of utter confusion. Shouldn't he be beyond annoyed and upset with Soundwave for getting him hurt? The blue mech stared at him in an almost terrified manner, confused at what was transpiring.
Megatron saw the moment of silence as a form of permission and slowly began to lift the mech up on his pedes. He struggled at first, but eventually managed to stand on his own.
''Who were those fraggers anyway..'' The brute asked rhetorically as he glared in the direction of their escape route. A very, mechanical-sounding whine brought Megatron's attention back to Soundwave.
''Oh- your books, here...let me help'' He spoke softly while picking up the paperbacks one by one and carefully placing them into his subspace. Now standing straight and ignoring the pain, he turns to the other mech with a concerned glance.
''I’m sorry this happened to you...I don’t understand why some bots can’t just leave others alone and mind their own fragging business.'' The silver mech’s rambling is cut short.
“Why are you apologising?” Soundwave’s usual tone had been completely replaced with static emotion. It was angry and raw, and Megatron was mesmerised by it.
“I....I-uh...I don’t know....” The large mech rubbed the back of his neck cables. He seemed conflicted, and Soundwave couldn’t grasp why.
“I’m just sorry...okay?”
The quiet mech began to boil with rage. No one had ever apologised to him, and he damn well didn’t deserve an apology now. If anything, he should be grovelling at the other’s pedes, begging for forgiveness for this entire mess he caused. But now wasn’t the time to be emotional. Not in front of anybot, especially him. Soundwave took a deep in-vent before speaking.
“I greatly appreciate the help you offered...and I deeply apologise for being the reason for your injuries...but I must...go...now...” The blue mech's last words seemed to fall clumsily off his derma as the searing pain was once again recognised by his processor.
A sharp pain emitting from his chassis sent an even larger spike of discomfort straight through to his helm. It was at this point that Soundwave began to feel his sensors failing to capture the sense of gravity, and thus his knee actuators began to give in.
The loner’s processor didn’t have the capacity to calculate what exactly happened after that. However, he could almost guarantee his frame didn’t meet the cold ground. In fact, it felt as though he was floating. A sensation he’d never experienced before.
Words were spoken, but his audio sensors seemed to be severely damaged as he could only recognise the voice as noise. Soundwave opened his tired optics and was once again met with the view of the distant stars above. Twinkling in the deep violet sky as if mocking him in a silent lullaby.
Notes:
Hugs for Soundwave will be taken in the comments~
This was the last chapter I wrote in 2019 after 5+ years of not touching it, I decided to rewrite it. The ending is entirely different. I didn’t like the ending of Soundwave and Megs just strolling back to his apt after a fight, so it made much more sense to get a little nitty and gritty with the gory details. Also, I kinda have a weak spot for things like this, so I thoroughly enjoyed writing it! :D
Chapter 6: Turning Grey
Summary:
With Soundwave gravely injured, Megatron attempts to find help.
Notes:
Pede = Foot
Derma = Lips
Tick/ Nano-klik = 1 Second
Chronocycle = 1 Year
Optical ridge = Eyebrow
(Core) Processor = Brain
Vent = Breathing / lungs
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Megatron couldn’t see a possibility of transforming into his alt mode whilst also carrying Soundwave safely, so he chose to re-adjust his grip on the mech’s limp frame and head straight for the closest medical centre.
It took roughly 19 kliks of following semi-graffitied and broken signs showing the direction of the nearest centre, but Megatron finally managed to stumble into a dimly lit emergency entrance. There was but a single femme sitting tiredly behind a flimsy-looking counter that appeared to be holding on for its life against the rusty bolts and joints.
“I need a medic!!!” Megatron shouted at the top of his vents, barely managing to maintain his composure without tripping over his own pedes in a panic.
The femme sitting on the other side of the timeworn counter forcefully squinted her optics and hissed as the brute’s voice cracked through the very quiet air.
“Sir. If you could lower your voice.” She replies with a deadpan tone, clearly not capturing the severity of the situation. Megatron ignores her and continues in the same distressed tone.
“Please!! My-my friend...he needs medical attention this instant!!” The silver mech secures a firmer grip on Soundwave, who is still unconscious. His arm strut falls from resting on his abdomen plating.
“Yelling...ain’t gonna make this go any faster..” She talks slowly, as if the life has been drained from her spark. Optics half-open, staring right into the mech’s face with an attitude. She clearly couldn’t care less, and it was obvious she was in no mood to be the slightest bit helpful.
It’s only now that he notices Energon leaking onto the tiled floor. This only causes Megatron’s urgency to turn full blast, his anger spiking with it.
“LOOK here! You good-for-nothing, overpaid, medic’s staff!” The large mech bellows with fury, eyeing the femme as if he intends to harm her.
“My friend is dying, and I’ll be DAMNED if I let that happen right where someone CAN help him!!” He finishes with a shaky ex-vent.
“Now point me to the direction of your chief medic- OR ELSE-” His shouting is cut short with the opening of double doors sliding aside, revealing what seemed to be a medic of some kind.
“What the frag is all this ruckus about!!!” The dirty yellow mech seems to notice Megatron’s presence and turns his anger towards him.
“There are patients ‘ere ya know?! Tryna fraggin recover!!! While your aft is here- yellin’ like nobot’s business!!!” His blue optics pierced through Megatron as he came a few pede-steps closer. Megatron ignores his distasteful tone, with the mute being his most important priority.
“Please! Sir- I need your help. My friend and I were attacked-” The brute’s desperate pleas were cut short, and the medic seemed to recognise the blue mech, lying limp in his hold. His expression suddenly changed to a disgusted scowl.
“Eugh! This thing?! Why the frag are you bringing me this creep?!” The medic moved a small and thin metal object within his derma, sliding it to the other side before continuing. Optics never leaving the limp frame.
“You don’t have to lie for this glitch!” The medic raised his servos dramatically, enunciating his insult.
“You do realise this thing is cursed??” The dirty yellow mech’s optics finally meet Megatron’s, who’s trying to debate how to continue this.
On one servo, he could fight back with insults, and remind this sad sack of bolts that he has a duty to help everybot, no matter their beliefs or superstitions. On the other servo, he could swallow his pride and searing hot rage for this low-life and try his best to convince the fragger.
Soundwave doesn’t have much time...
“Please....sir...I-I-I’ll do anything! I’ll pay you ten times your paycheck, just- please help him!” It physically hurt Megatron to muster those words, but he knew that at this point, Soundwave couldn’t hold on for much longer.
The medic glared at Megatron as if he’d insulted his life career. “Are ya fraggin’ audio sensors damaged?” The silver mech faltered, resetting his optics rapidly.
“I ain’t takin’ no business with this thing!! Now get the frag outta ‘ere or I’m callin’ security!!!” The saffron mech yelled, at his limits with frustration.
Megatron stood there for a moment in time. Taken aback by this medic's response. Slowly, his expression furrowed in a deep-seated anger. The brute carefully examined the medic’s faceplates, vowing to remember every ugly crevice to the smallest scratch. He would ensure this sorry excuse for a bot would meet his doom.
Either his optics gave his deathly intentions away, or Megatron was standing there for longer than he’d noticed, because with a shaky yell, two larger mechs appeared from opposing doors and were storming towards him.
One held a canon, ready to fire, and the other a pair of Energon shackles. He wasted no time turning his backstrut in hopes of finding another medical centre. Thankfully, the guards didn’t bother pursuing him. There was no point in wasting more time there.
It felt as if joors had passed. Megatron was unsure when it got so dark, with only a few dimly lit lights illuminating his way. Even though he had lived here for many chronocycles, this city had smaller, dingy streets he’d never been to.
The mech’s attention was broken between making sure Soundwave’s spark was still functioning to figuring out where any kind of medic could be found. Finally, he found a lone mech, casually walking by in the shadows.
“Excuse me! Sir!” He yelled with pure desperation, rushing over with heavy vents, his system working on overdrive from the stress he was putting his frame through. The startled mech almost seemed as though he wanted to make a run for it. Unsure if he was getting mugged or not. Thankfully, he simply froze, a single servo clutching his spark.
“Sir! Please, can you direct me to the nearest medical centre??? Or any kind of medic- really.” Megatron’s systems were struggling to keep up with his processor, in addition to stressing his entire chassis from his injuries. However, he couldn’t care less at this very moment. The mech in question seemed taken aback, but quickly recovered, awkwardly answering, still unsure of the larger mech.
“Uhm...uhh-s-sure... Well, if you head over to Sector Eight-G-” Megatron recognised the location as the same aft-bag that resided there. He cut him short in hopes of saving time.
“No-no! Not there- any other place?? They’re...closed! They can’t accept any more bots!” The panicked mech tried his best to think of a lie, in hopes of avoiding garnering attention toward the limp bot in his hold.
“Well....there is another, smaller centre by the Crystal Mines, just past the forge over there.” The mech nodded his helm in a direction almost directly behind Megatron. He wasted no time, without even sparing a ‘thanks’, running as fast as his tired leg-struts allowed. He couldn’t waste another tick.
Megatron could taste Energon on his glossa. Something was beginning to leak, and it was only getting worse. He stole a quick glance at the Tapedeck, still lying limp in his hold, not moving, and barely venting. The silver mech could barely register a working spark when conducting a quick scan while on the move.
Then, as if Primus himself blessed their luck, his optics locked onto a stylised red cross hanging on a flickering sign. Relief washed over his stressed spark, and in an instant, he was rushing through the entrance.
“HEY, YOU!!” Megatron shakily yelled towards a mech sitting behind another counter. This one seemed a lot more alert than the previous femme. He immediately stood on his pedes, speed-walking around the counter towards the beaten-up mechs.
“W-what happened here?? I need to know exact-” The small mech’s words were cut short as soon as he noticed who Megatron was holding. He stopped dead in his tracks. The mech’s expression turned into a troubled frown. He was conflicted, and yet it still looked as though he wanted to help.
“I’m....sorry, sir. But...we’re not allowed to take care of this one.....” The small, white mech said anxiously.
Megatron was just about done with this city. “You’ve gotta be fragging kidding me?!” He wasn’t going to take no for an answer this time. He stepped right into the small mech's personal space, almost touching his yellow faceplates.
“Either you take him-” Megatron leaned in, slowly, his gaze locking with the scared assistant. “-Or I’ll reign down unimaginable pain upon you and your fragging-”
“Hey! Mister, please...stop harassing my assistant?” A softer voice snapped the angry brute out of his violent threats. He quickly turned his helm to the right, spotting a tall, medic bot.
“What seems to be the- OH my Primus!!!” The medic gasped in horror at the sight of the limp mute in Megatron’s arm-struts.
“Uhhh-quickly! This way- hurry!” Without a single moment of hesitation, the tall bot beckoned the tired mech over with a wave of his servo before running through multiple doors and hatches. Megatron was not far behind.
Finally, the medic led him into a small, sterile room full of medical equipment and an old-looking berth.
“Place him here, please.” The tall bot spoke in a very rushed manner, not even looking in Megatron’s direction, as his attention was busy finding certain tools.
The brute shakily placed Soundwave’s frame down onto the berth, reminding himself to be extra careful when allowing his helm to rest. The massive weight in Megatron’s spark seemed to lift, ever so slightly, at finally finding a bot who could help. However, it was obvious just by looking at him that the Tapedeck had a lot to get through before he was safe in any way.
The clattering of glass and metal being placed onto a table broke the larger mech out of his state. He looked at the medic, who seemed to be thoroughly concentrating on the matter in front of him. The hatch suddenly opened, revealing the smaller mech from before. He spoke quietly, as if trying to ignore the obvious drone in the hangar.
“Sir...I don’t think we’re allowed to-” He was cut off by the taller medic.
“Groove, please, set aside your judgment and go get all of our Energon reserves. I don’t think we have enough, but it’s better than letting this bot drain grey. This ‘Groove’ character seemed to hesitate for a nano-click but complied, leaving the room with a heavy ex-vent.
“Now, uhhh...” The tall medic furrowed his optical ridges.
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your designation.” The mech grabbed a container of cleaning fluid and hastily poured it onto an absorbent mesh pad in his servo.
“Uh-M-Megatron” The silver mech barely managed to state his own designation through the panic that was overheating his core processor.
“Well then, Megatron. My designation is First Aid. I’m sorry to meet you this way, but can you please explain to me- quickly, what happened to him?” The medic spoke in a flurry as he manipulated the tools within his grasp.
The massive, battered mech dragged in a ragged vent, armour screeching in protest as his frame threatened to collapse under its own weight. He forced himself upright, shaking with more than pain. Staring down at Soundwave’s fading form, Megatron felt a hollow dread claw through his core.
Now, as Soundwave’s spark flickered on the edge of extinguishing, Megatron realised the truth with brutal clarity. If he faltered. If he let this slip away. He would lose something deep within his spark that he had never dared to want.
Notes:
I tried finding similar sayings like "elephant in the room" and the closest thing I found was "drone in the hangar". Just in case that wasn't obvious! I spend WAY too much time researching for each chapter, so it usually takes a lot longer than normal, but I want to maintain that "Cybertronian" vibe.
Chapter 7: First Aid
Summary:
First Aid races against time to keep Soundwave functioning.
Notes:
Actuators = Joints
Derma = Lips
Tick/ Nano-klik = 1 Second
Klik = 1.2 minutes
Breem = 8.3 minutes
Joor / Groon = 1 Hour 15 minutes
Orbital Cycle / Solar cycle = 1 Day
Rotation / Phase = 1 month-ish
Chronocycle = 1 Year
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“We were attacked...by a bunch of low-life fraggers who were just searching for trouble...”
First Aid used the doused mesh pad to clean directly below the primary neck coupler before expertly sliding in a fluid transfer coupler. This was in preparation for the Energon fuel line.
“Apologies....that doesn’t sound very pleasant..” The medic spoke empathetically.
“Can you....fix him?” Megatron barely managed to muster the words. The air was filled with heavy dread.
“I....” The tall mech ex-vented, troubled.
“You have my word that I will try my best to repair your friend...however....” He paused for a short moment.
“I cannot be certain of anything until I know the full extent of the damage.” First Aid lifted his helm, looking right into Megatron’s optics.
“Process what you’re about to say very carefully. I need to know exactly how these injuries occurred. Were any weapons or tools involved?” He wasted no time grabbing his diagnostic scanner. A low hum filled the room.
The memory of what had happened just a few joors ago resurfaced in Megatron’s processor. He despised how useless he felt.
“N-no...just punches were thrown.” The troubled mech shook his helm, trying his best to process something he desperately wanted to forget.
“He-uhm... one of them slammed his knee platings into his chassis-here.” He pointed at the mangled spark-cover.
“It was with...full force- all of his weight” Megatron clenched his jaw bearings until it felt as though they’d break under pressure.
He would get his revenge. No matter who he had to go through.
“Did they reach his spark?” The medic asked worriedly.
“What? N-no...I don’t” The brute tried to wrangle his core processor for any instance of that happening.
“I don’t....think so. No.” He answered with uncertainty, but the tall mech didn’t seem to notice.
“They uhm- one of them-” The silver mech’s shaky words were brazenly interrupted by the hatch opening. A large reservoir of Energon rolling in was the first image coming through the doors, Groove not far behind, pushing it.
“Here is all we have left.” The medical assistant spoke with strain in his voice box from pushing the weight of the reservoir. Usually, these things would push themselves, but the hovering mechanic didn’t seem to have any power. Megatron noticed a large slosh of liquid bouncing around inside as Groove set it aside right next to his superior.
“How much?” First Aid asked expectantly, maintaining his attention on Soundwave.
“Uhhh..” Groove groaned as he flickered a small pad on the container to life, a couple of blips signifying he was interacting with the screen installed within.
“Four.....no- thirty-nine percent.” A dark weight overcame First Aid’s servos.
“What? No- that’s impossible. We had at least two of these- plus the tank by the boiler-” Groove cut the frustrated medic off.
“I’m sorry, doc. That’s all we have...” The smaller medic spoke somberly.
“You must be confusing it with the last phase’s inventory. We lost both that tank and two other reservoirs a few cycles ago to that larger medical centre.” The tall mech froze in place, staring at his Energon-covered servos intertwined with the Tapedeck’s inner abdomen cabling.
“They have priority...remember?” Groove spoke softly, as if not wanting to hurt the other’s feelings. Megatron had never witnessed such tenderness in any setting, let alone work.
“Right. Yes. I’m sorry.” First Aid resumed his busy servos, as if nothing had happened.
“That is all, Groove. Please await further instructions via the comm-link.” First Aid spoke with strain. The smaller mech hesitated in response.
“You don’t need any help?” Groove asked with concern.
“I will. Later. Please refrain from going off duty for the time being.” He replied without much emotion, although everybot in the room could tell the medic was trying his best to maintain professional composure, while clearly lacing something more.
“Copy.” Came a quick reply before the hatch slid shut.
“Uhm...” The tall medic forcefully shut his optics and reset them, his visor blinking in the process.
“What else happened?” He glanced up at Megatron, who seemed dazed at best.
Megatron tried his absolute best to recall every gruesome detail of the beating Soundwave received. It was torture, but he knew all of it was for the blue mech’s best interest. He didn’t spare any details, and the medic was mortified.
It took no longer than a breem to finally finish. The weight on Megatron’s spark rose a little more. Just enough for the panic to subside, allowing his pain receptors to kick into full gear. The beaten mech groaned quietly, trying his best not to show how much pain he was enduring. The medic must have noticed because his helm rose in realisation.
“Oh! I’m so sorry. I’ve been so busy with your friend that I haven’t even given your injuries a second thought. Please go back to the first room- Groove should be there, he’ll patch you up while I-” Megatron’s stabalisers grew shaky as the stress of his weight changed, taking a pede-step forward.
“No! I need to be here- for... I need to stay with him...please.” The large mech pleaded, cringing at the creaking metal his lower arm struts gave as he moved them.
“Look, Megatron. I appreciate the help you’ve given, I really do. But you’re clearly injured, and my assistant is very skilled. You don’t need to worry-” Megatron interrupted the medic once again, a tired ex-vent filling the room.
“I’m fine. I’ve dealt with...worse. I don’t need anything. I-I have to be here...” Megatron’s optics glazed over the Tapedeck’s Energon-covered frame. Soundwave looked so distraught, even though he wasn’t conscious.
“I know every part of you wants to stay. You care for him...I can see it.” The medic spoke softly, almost as if he understood what the silver mech was going through.
“But you also have to understand that I need absolutely no distractions if I’m to avoid making a grave mistake on your friend. You need to leave. Please, trust me. I only want what’s best for both of you- a-and I promise, I’ll give you an update on his condition as soon as he’s stable. I won't leave his side until then.” The medic spoke with compassion and utmost sincerity.
Megatron didn’t say a word. The last thing he wanted to do was risk Soundwave’s life because of his own stupid ‘needs’. Come to think of it. The last thing the loner would want to see was his faceplates. He did make it worse after all.
Regardless of what the blue mech thought of him, though, he wouldn’t leave this building until he knew everything was okay. The tired brute slowly nodded in understanding and turned to head out the hatch.
“Groove will be waiting for you just outside. Please follow him.” The mech behind pleaded. It seemed as though he knew Megatron had no intention of getting himself any help. It didn’t seem like he could get away with it this time. The doors to the hatch hissed open.
“Uhh..hello” A nervous smile painted the smaller bot's derma.
“Please follow me this way” He spoke nervously as Megatron glared at him dead in the optics. The large mech followed him to yet another hatch. This one refused to open.
“Oh- uhhh- one tick...” Groove chuckled awkwardly before re-entering a code into the access panel. It slid open with an ugly creak. The small, yellow-face plate bot gestured for Megatron inside with his servo.
“If I could just ask you to take a seat on the med-berth there- I’ll be right with you.” He scurried into the corner of the small, dingy room to grab some supplies. Megatron didn’t take his glare off him. Groove arrived with a hover tray of what seemed to be very limited supplies. He took a quick glance at the brute before grabbing a diagnostic scanner. It hummed to life as he aimed it towards the large mech.
Groove let out a small ex-vent before speaking.
“I really don’t hold any ill will towards you or your mate there.” Megatron’s optical ridges furrowed in response, and the silence grew heavy.
“For what it’s worth....I’m glad he’s getting the help he needs-” The brute cut him short.
“Would you?” He asked blatantly, in a darker tone. Groove’s yellow optics met seething red ones.
“W-what?” The smaller mech replied, almost seeming scared. His EM field was booming apologetically.
“Would you have helped Soundwave if the other medic wasn’t here?” Megatron’s voice was laced threateningly. Groove shrank in thought. It was silent.
“Look- I’m just following the rules, okay? I didn’t indoctrinate those laws! I’m tryna stay outta trouble here...” The small bot put the scanner down and grabbed a welding torch in preparation for fixing Megatron’s guard plating.
“Uhhh...may I?” He pointed a digit at the brute’s upper arm frame. He looked away in silent permission, a scowl remaining on scratched faceplates.
Megatron knew of Soundwave’s existence before even meeting him at the bar. However, he never suspected bots of such a profession to treat him this way. Random strangers on the street? Sure. Even though the thought of it made his fuel lines boil in rage. But for a medic- somebot who’s vowed to help every living bot- to simply turn a blind optic to a dying mech because he’s different.
And now there are some fraggin’ rules in every damn medical centre in the city?!
He wouldn’t let that stand. No.
Before the fight, Megatron was teetering on the decision of how he truly felt about this blue mech. There was a lot of restraint towards him. He didn’t want to admit to any feelings he may have held, not with his entire reputation on the line. Not with Starscream spreading false rumours. Before that moment, the brute would have done anything to protect that image of himself. He spent too much of his life building it into something other bots would respect.
But now?
After seeing Soundwave get almost beaten to death, after carrying his frame for joors, praying to Primus to keep his spark functioning. That’s when Megatron caught a glimpse of how his spark truly felt, processing the thought of the blue mech turning grey. It hurt. Something, somewhere in his spark, ached at the image of him dying.
That is when the silver mech knew, without a doubt, he cared for Soundwave. It scared him to think his whole function would probably change, being associated with the Tapedeck- but it was a fear he welcomed. He didn’t give two frags about what anyone thought anymore.
It took about two and a half joors, but the less-than-favourable mech was finally done repairing any major damage. The cosmetic repairs would have to wait as Groove had to go and assist First Aid. Not that Megatron cared for cosmetics at this moment. Every nano-klik was spent on worrying about Soundwave, wondering how he was doing. He had yet to receive any updates, and the silence gnawed at him.
“Please wait in the holding bay while I go help-” Groove was cut short.
“What about Soundwave? Can I see him?” Megatron spoke with concern. Groove must have comm-linked the other medic because it was silent for a few kliks too long.
“No...sorry, you have to wait. Please head over to the holding bay. First Aid will personally contact you as soon as his servos aren’t full.” Groove was halfway out before stumbling back in, almost tripping over in the process.
“Oh! I almost forgot. It’s extremely important that you refrain from taking part in any strenuous activities for a few cycles. Since I was unable to give you any nanite-infused Energon, you’ll have to take it easy.” And with that, he rushed away.
Megatron found the closest seat to the hatch leading to the operating room. Now all it took was to wait. The silver mech was exhausted, still sore from the fight. Throughout the joors it took the small medic to repair his most severe injuries; he was able to run several diagnostic scans and figure out exactly what was troubling him.
In Megatron’s view, it wasn’t too bad, he’s suffered worse in the gladiator rings, but the medic had voiced his own concerns and noted that if he had gone home without any repairs, he most likely would have offlined within a cycle or two. The brute scoffed at the dramatisation.
Yeah right.
It felt as though eons had passed. The cracked and dusty floor was like staring into the void. It was becoming unbearable to look at. So, he locked his optics on the sliding doors. Praying to Primus, they’d open. Megatron was as sure as the pits that he wasn’t the religious type; however, right now, he’d do anything to make time move a little faster.
The silver mech’s tired optics shut for just a breem. He would rest his processor a bit while maintaining audio awareness.
“Uhh- Megatron?” A soft voice snapped him out of his daze. The brute hastily reset his optics and was greeted by First Aid taking a seat next to him. The medic seemed worn out, but he was trying not to show it.
“So...Soundwave is stable for now...” The tall mech’s visor flickered tiredly; his voice was worn. Megatron was beyond relieved, that’s all he wanted to hear. His spark began to flutter with hope.
Thank Primus...
“He sustained an overwhelming amount of damage, overall. But we managed to stop any further Energon leakage.” First Aid spoke quietly. “He’s connected to a spark stabiliser since he shut down several times while we were operating. That should prevent any further complications with his spark.” The medic rubbed his upper arm strut in thought.
“After we had fixed the worst of it, he had to be entirely submerged in a nanite bath to promote faster healing. After that, I infused his main Energon lines with heavily concentrated nanite swarms. I was then able to weld the larger areas of compromise.” First Aid lowered his helm.
“I wish we had a cryochamber here...but....well- we had to make do with what we had, but he’s okay...” He looked to the large mech with a reassuring nod.
Megatron wanted to hug the damn mech so badly, but he refrained from such uncharacteristic behaviour. He never hugged a single spark in his function, and this was the first time he had to hold back. He released a shaky ex-vent.
“Thank you...Thank you...” The brute spoke with such delicate warmth. He tiredly dropped his helm into his servos. Feeling as if the weight of Cybertron had been lifted off his back strut.
He’s okay...
Everything is okay...
He’s okay....
Suddenly, a distant alarm blared, slicing through the heavy silence. Dragging the large mech's spark into a grip of dread.
“Groove! With me!” First Aid commanded as he leapt off the seat and ran at full speed towards the alarm. Megatron was not far behind.
It couldn’t be.....
Soundwave!
Notes:
You thought I was gonna end on Megs being all happy and relieved??? You thought WRONG.
Gosh, I love First Aid. He’s such a sweetheart. :’) I tried my best to display his generous nature here, I hope it came across ^^”
First Aid and Groove are both canon characters. The only original characters are Caliper and the strange bot in the sweet store.
Chapter 8: Interlude
Summary:
Soundwave doesn't like medics.
Notes:
Fun fact, when bots exclaim “by the all Spark” it’s actually spelled “AllSpark”, yeah, in ONE word. My OCD doesn’t like this, but it’s canon, so I can’t complain. *ugly sobbing*
Tick/ Nano-klik = 1 Second
Klik = 1.2 minutes
Breem = 8.3 minutes
Joor / Groon = 1 Hour 15 minutes
Orbital Cycle / Solar cycle = 1 Day
Rotation / Phase = 1 month-ish
Chronocycle = 1 Year
Fluid channels = Veins
Energon lines = Supply line of Energon
Actuators = Joints
Derma = Lips
Optical fluid / Coolant = Tears
By the AllSpark / By Primus = Omg
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
REBOOTING
It was dark. Was his visor not functioning?
REBOOTING
Everything hurt...even venting was a challenge.
REBOOTING
What's going on?
WARNING: ENERGON LEVELS CATASTROPHIC
WARNING: CORE PROCESSOR DAMAGE...31%...REPAIRING...0.1%
WARNING: LOW NANITE COUNT...REPAIRS SUSPENDED
WARNING: ENERGON LEVELS: CRITICAL
WARNING: CORE PROCESSOR DAMAGE...30.9%...REPAIRING...0.1%
NANITES DETECTED...RESUMING REPAIRS
WARNING: ENERGON LEVELS SUBOPTIMAL
ENERGON LEVELS: STABLE
DIVERTING ADDITIONAL 39.21% PROCESSING POWER - LOCATION - CORE PROCESSOR
WARNING: SPARK CHAMBER ERROR...RUNNING DIAGNOSTICS
WARNING: MAJOR FUEL LINE 892.9U RUPTURED - LOCATION - HIP ROTOR
SPARK CHAMBER DIAGNOSTIC...INCONCLUSIVE: MANUAL SCAN ADVISED
WARNING: MAJOR FUEL LINE 45.6GF - SEVERELY DAMAGED - LOCATION - FOREARM JOINT MATRIX: REMOVAL ADVISED
WARNING: HYDRAULIC CYLINDER - SEVERELY DAMAGED - LOCATION - ACTUATOR JOINT 2L: ATTENTION REQUIRED
Oh...right...
WARNING: -
WARNING: -
WARNING: -
The constant blaring text made his helm spin. Soundwave promptly disabled all notifications for his system. He'd probably regret that later, but right now he couldn't care less. With a pained groan from his torn vocaliser, he reset his optics, visor glowing a weak, warm red. The first thing his optics came into contact with was the ceiling. The light projectors were switched off, and he thanked Primus for that.
Was this Megatron's living space? It surely feels...sterile...
Soundwave mustered all of his power to turn his helm to the left in an attempt to get a better view of the questionable location. Only then did he notice several Energon lines and other cables connected to his fluid channels. This must have been some kind of medical facility. He's only been in one before, and it did not end well. The Tapedeck's spark slowed to a halt and dropped in utter horror.
In a desperate panic, Soundwave tore off the closest Energon lines before stumbling out of the med-berth. He hadn't accounted for, nor run a diagnostic on, his current state, but it was obvious that his skeletal frame was not prepared for standing.
With a heavy CLANK, he fell onto the barren floor, inadvertently tearing off the rest of the lines. Alarms began blaring into his audio sensors, like molten knives stabbing into his processor. The floor flooded with Energon as he noticed his digits surrounded by a pool of Energon, leaking from both himself and the lines.
I NEED to get out of here...before they do something worse...
Amidst the screeching alarms coming from various equipment, Soundwave made a feeble attempt to regulate his ventilation systems, but to no avail. With trembling vents and unstable actuator joints, he stares at both servos flat on the floor before pushing himself upwards.
The Energon between his digits removes any grip, and thus he smashes helm-first into the cold floor. Suddenly, a blinding light ignites in his optical sensors, rendering him sightless. A voice cuts through the chaotic commotion.
"...y ...mus! ...ove! ... in ...ere!"
In the unrelenting surge of terror, Soundwave was unsure if these bots were friends of his attackers. They could have come back to finish the job. Just as the Tapedeck's optics were about to accumulate, a larger burst of light filled every corner of the room. He hissed in pain and hastily brought his servo up to his visor in an attempt to protect his sensors. The ringing in his helm only got louder. Voices were surrounding him, but he was unable to decipher anything coherent.
"..Sh...em...off!"
The searing light dissipated. The blue mech could finally get a blurry visual of the perpetrators. There were two bots, both close enough to make his Energon run cold. His fight or flight kicked in, and since he was stuck lying on the floor with his backstrut supported by some fallen equipment, he began to flail his servos.
He needed to grab something, anything, to fight them off. A quick glance at the floor showed a small tool of unknown origin. But it was better than nothing. Soundwave shakily grabbed a hold of the strange but surprisingly heavy instrument and swung it aimlessly at them.
A couple of nano-kliks of resetting his optics were all it took to regain a proper visual field. The mech on the left backed off while the one on the right remained uncomfortably close. Both holding their servos up and open, showing nothing in their hold. This confused the injured mech to the point where he stopped waving his 'weapon' around.
Vents remained working on overdrive as he forced his processor to calculate an appropriate escape route.
Why are they here?
What do they want from me?!
Why were those cables...what did they do to me?!
The taller mech on the right slowly stepped closer. Soundwave's full attention snapped in that direction, tool shaking in his servo as it was aimed directly at the mech closing in. He stopped moving and spoke instead.
"Hey...Soundwave?" His auditory receptors must have regained function. The voice was soft, almost calming.
What? How does he-
"My designation is First Aid. I'm a medic...I'm here to help you." The medic crouched down so he was at optic-level with the terrified bot lying in a pool of Energon. The alarms suddenly ceased. The blue mech had never heard such a soft spoken tone towards him. It was beyond alien.
"I can promise you, without a doubt, that I do not wish to harm you in any way"
Any microbeat of trust faded instantly. Those last words stung his spark like a drop of molten iron. Those very words were said before he was betrayed by an unfathomable wave of pain. By a medic, worst of all. Maintaining his grasp on the sharp tool in his right servo, Soundwave grabbed a hold of a tray with loose medical utensils with his free servo and threw it directly at the medic's faceplates.
"Soundwave!" A familiar voice filled the air.
Soundwave's optics locked on an awfully familiar image. With a single sparkbeat, he felt as though the world was safer. Coolant obstructed his optics as relief washed over. The tool in his servo dropped with a loud clank. He reached out towards the silver mech.
"Meg-" Soundwave was interrupted by a sudden static coughing fit. His voice box clearly hadn't had enough time to repair the major damage. He probably would've known this if he left his notifications on...
Strong, warm servos wrapped around his entire frame. It took all of Soundwave's energy not to break into an uncontrollable sob.
"By the AllSpark...Soundwave..." For a nano-klik, everything was right with the world. Then a hasty voice broke the silence.
"Megatron! You need to convince him to reconnect those Energon lines! Otherwise, all of our work will be undone!" First Aid pleaded.
Work? Were they experimenting on me?
I have to get out of here...
Soundwave tensed, locking his visor on the two medics not far from him. Megatron's oddly soft voice cut through the Tapedeck's processing.
"Soundwave- Hey." Large servos grabbed hold of his shoulder plates.
"Listen, you need to get back in the med-berth...you're critically damaged, you need-"
"No!" The panicked mech's helm shook violently in protest. He placed his servos on Megatron's chassis, as if trying to push him away, but without any force.
"We don't have time." The tall medic desperately whispered with furrowed optical ridges.
"Soundwave- please. They just want to help-"
"NO!" Soundwave screamed like never before. He was breaking apart, and everybot was a witness to it.
"I want to go home...idontwanttobehere..." The trembling blue mech finished with a whispered, incoherent plea into the large mech's chassis. Only Megatron was able to capture what he said. The brute, ever so gently, with unusual softness, grabbed a hold of each side of Soundwave's helm, turning it to face only him. The Energon-soaked mech's vents hitched.
"Optics on me, Soundwave." Megatron spoke with firm affection.
"I know every micron in your frame is screaming at you to get up and get the frag out of here. I know the very process of going through this makes your Energon run cold. I know the last place you want to be is here. I know you're scared." The silver mech spoke with a certainty the other had never heard before.
"But I swear to you- I swear by my spark. I swear- I won't let anything happen to you. You have my unwavering word that I will remain here- by your side until all this... is over." Megatron's words never faltered. He wasn't more sure of anything in his function than right now.
The moment those words left Megatron's derma, Soundwave felt something he had never experienced before. He wasn't sure what it was, but it felt warm...and safe. In a single spark-beat, the universe seemed to melt away. The weight of those words pressed against his aching spark. As if clad in armour wrought from unimaginable power. The Tapedeck lowered his gaze and clumsily rested his helm on the brute's chassis. Vents slowing, optics fluttering.
With that, Megatron swiftly picked him up- the bot was strangely light in weight. Placing the scared mech gently on the med-berth, the large mech looked over to First Aid. The tall medic slowly walks over, as does Groove. Soundwave tensed in response.
"Not him..." The blue mech spoke quietly while maintaining optical contact with the smaller medic. He didn't like the look of those yellow faceplates. It reminded him of Caliper. First Aid nodded.
"Alright, alright- Groove, please go and check on the other patients. I can do this myself." The medic assured, and the other was gone within the next nano-klik.
"Okay, I need to work quickly- Megatron, please keep him busy. Since most of the lines were torn off, I'll have to weld them back" First Aid spoke in a flurry as he grabbed a hold of the welding torch and expertly wielded the tool as if it were an extension of himself. Soundwave flinched back. Megatron grabbed his upper arm strut in hopes of offering some comfort.
"This will hurt, but I need you to remain as still as possible. I'm sorry we don't have time to inject any pain-receptor blockers." The medic sighed.
It was only now that Soundwave had noticed how exhausted his systems were. He didn't dare turn on his notification wall. The panic had mostly set aside and left room for the pain sensors to run in overdrive.
He didn't care for the pain the welding inflicted. He experienced worse. However, the Tapedeck was also losing consciousness from the Energon loss. The pain was fleeting. Darkness began to cloud his visor. Maybe some recharge wasn't so bad.
"First Aid! He's losing consciousness!" Megatron went to grab hold of the blue mech's shoulder plating, but stopped in fear of making it worse.
"That's to be expected. No need to worry." First Aid's voice was intertwined with the buzzing of the welding torch, small, metal sparks flew everywhere.
"His core processor is putting him into a forced stasis to prevent further damage. This way, there's less strain on his spark." The medic released a frustrated groan.
"There's not enough time- Megatron! Do you have any experience in placing Energon lines into a bot's main fluid channels?" First Aid asked in a plea. The large brute thought back to his days in the gladiator rings. He had very limited experience when implementing them into his own lines.
"Uhh...somewhat? I guess..." Megatron replied with uncertainty.
"Great! Perfect- Here. Take this." The medic hastily shoved one of the loose Energon lines into his servos.
"You need to use the sharp part on the edge to cut directly into his lines." First Aid hastily added.
"What about a refuelling port? Isn't that safer?" Megatron's optical ridges furrowed in worry.
"Yes- But using a refuelling port is not an option right now. Just like before, his state is too critical to use any ports. The Energon needs to be directly infused with what remains of his own Energon. Even more so, this is medical-grade Energon, it's deeply concentrated nanite swarms. Those nanites are what's keeping him functioning." The medic didn't wait any longer.
"Hurry!" He shouted before resuming his swift welding.
Not even a full joor had passed, but it felt as though Megatron's Energon-soaked servos were manipulating the blue mech's lines for eons. They were both done. First Aid let out a worn-out ex-vent, grabbing the diagnostic scanner before it hummed to life. First Aid's faceplates contoured into something dark.
"It's not enough..." The medic whispered, tired. Megatron's helm rose in panic.
"What? What do you mean?" Concern filled the air like a heavy impact mat coating their vents.
"His Energon levels are too low to resume normal function..." First Aid rubbed his helm tiredly as he sat on a small, hover-chair.
"I would give him Energon from my own lines...but I already did that during surgery...I'm afraid I won't be able to function as a medic if I lose any more." Megatron's spark rose in temperature. It ached.
"Can't you get supplies from another medical facility?" The brute suggested. The tall medic silently shook his helm, keeping a tired optic on his patient.
"I'll transfer my Energon." The silver mech spoke without hesitation. First Aid stood in a panic.
"No! Your condition is nowhere near stable enough to be donating Ener-"
"Is Soundwave's state more critical- Yes or no?" The brute argued, determination booming through his EM field. The medic's glance lowered back to the blue mech. They both knew the answer.
"Well...yes but-"
"Then do it." Megatron demanded, extending his arm strut expectantly. The tall mech hesitated for only a moment before reaching back in the corner of the room, pulling out a transfer kit. He pushed the small hover-chair towards Megatron with his pede. It gently bumped into the larger mech's thigh guard.
"You'll need to sit down." The medic spoke gently. It had no back strut support, but he figured it was better than wasting valuable energy reserves on standing. First Aid began to connect the fluid transfer coupler to the other's forearm casing.
The brute removed his armour casing and forearm panel with a single command. The action conveyed wordless approval for the medic to continue. The first nano-klik gave a sharp stinging sensation down his entire arm strut, but Megatron didn't care. He just kept his worried gaze on Soundwave.
He noticed only now that the blue mech was missing his mouth guard. It must have gotten lost in the attack. The brute never saw his derma before. It was strange, they looked entirely normal- save for a tiny scratch to the left, above his upper derma. There were no cracks, not even any permanent marks that may have given reason for him to hide his faceplates.
Megatron heard many stories of how the Tapedeck's faceplates were mangled at creation. It was rumoured that Unicron himself cursed his appearance. Made it so hideous that he was forced to cover his entire helm. But there was nothing.
Megatron dared to think it...beautiful.
First Aid finally let out an exhausted ex-vent.
"Okay, I'm done here for now...I need to go and recharge for a joor or so- I haven't rested in cycles.." The medic tried to save face, as if there was a reason to. The brute knew he worked tirelessly; it was obvious in the way the medic carried himself. Furthermore, his work was damn near impeccable. Megatron scoffed softly, not having the energy to display it properly.
"You don't need to excuse yourself...just go. Your work is greatly valued" The brute's optics met the medic's low-glow of a visor. The white mech lowered his helm sheepishly.
"I'm just doing my job..." He replied bashfully.
"Oh- before I forget. If anything happens, no matter how short a time I'm gone-" There was a small break in his words as the Medic sent his comm-link ID to the silver mech.
"Please don't hesitate to contact me directly. I'll be here within a klik." Megatron gave a silent nod in reply whilst emitting a thankful EMF.
The hatch hissed shut, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he was alone with Soundwave. The large mech gently grabbed the other mech's servo. He maintained a gentle gaze on his faceplates. The brute had never seen him with such a calm expression.
It looked as though he was in a deep recharge, peaceful. The large mech frowned momentarily. Now that he was certain of his feelings for Soundwave, he'd have to confess to the entire ruse Starscream forced the mech into.
Would Soundwave forgive him? Would he even want anything to do with Megatron after hearing all the bullslag he put him through? If it weren't for Starscream, none of this would have happened.
But then again.
He never would've walked up to Soundwave in the bar...
Even though the initial actions were merely to save his reputation. It slowly grew into something else.
I guess life and death scenarios really do put a perspective on what you truly feel. Megatron thought to himself. Lazily resting his helm on the edge of the berth, facing Soundwave's faceplates.
He dreaded the moment of judgment that would inevitably arrive. The brute had an uneasy feeling that it wouldn't go well. For now, he would simply retrace every crevice of the blue mech's faceplates with his optics. He would savour this moment, for it may be his last.
Slowly, his systems refused to keep running. He had to shut his optics, just for a moment.
Notes:
Is he gonna tell him? :(
Chapter 9: Sonic Canyons
Summary:
A treacherous trek awaits the pair at the Sonic Canyons
Notes:
Aft = Ass
Tick/ Nano-klik = 1 Second
Klik = 1.2 minutes
Breem = 8.3 minutes
Joor / Groon = 1 Hour 15 minutes
Orbital Cycle / Solar cycle = 1 Day
Rotation / Phase = 1 month-ish
Chronocycle = 1 Year
Fluid channels = Veins
Energon lines = Supply line of Energon
Actuators = Joints
Derma = Lips
Optical fluid / Coolant = Tears
By the AllSpark / By Primus = Omg
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
It felt as though he had been hit by an overloaded ironram. Multiple times.
A strained, metallic groan tore from Soundwave's chassis with static emitting from his damaged voice box. His notifications remained disabled, but the blue mech could already feel the difference when speaking. With some struggle, he could use it.
"Mmmm-my books..." The blue mech muttered between static. The recharging mech instantly rose his helm in response.
"Soundwave!" The silver mech spoke excitedly. The Tapedeck hissed through his denta in response to the sudden noise. Thankfully, the large mech noticed.
"Oh...I'm sorry..." The silver mech replied quietly.
"How are you feeling?" He asked, hopeful. Soundwave took a moment to gather his processor. He didn't see a point in lying.
"Like slag." The blue mech couldn't help but respond with a weak half-smile. Somehow, Megatron understood it as a feeble attempt at a joke. He chuckled softly in response.
"Well...at least you're still functioning." The brute gave a warm smile. It made the Tapedeck's spark leap. He couldn't help but look away. Optics darting around the room in an attempt at refocusing.
"Are my...books okay?" Soundwave asked sheepishly while slowly returning his gaze to the other bot.
"Oh! Yes- they should be-" With an uncomfortably sharp metallic whine, Megatron's subspace opened. It was still in need of some repairs. He pulled out three hard paperbacks, all seemed to be unharmed, save for a couple of creases from the initial fall. He was careful not to grab his book.
"Here." Megatron affirmed. Soundwave grabbed them with hopes to put the beloved reads into his own subspace, but quickly noticed an odd device covering his chassis. The loner was about to ask, but the larger mech seemed to catch on.
"It's a spark stabiliser. It-" The brute was cut short by Soundwave's finicky digits trying to pry it off.
"Hey! You need to keep that on!"
"I don't need it, my spark feels fine..." The Tapedeck was lying, but he'd say anything to get the stabiliser off. It felt as though his spark was suffocating under the pressure. Megatron was quick to place a firm servo on the other's spark chamber, inadvertently pushing him into the berth.
"Soundwave. Keep. It. On." The large mech towered over him with radiating authority. The blue mech couldn't help but shrink a little.
"Diagnostic results indicate my spark is currently at 94% efficiency." Of course, no bot had to know he was pulling the numbers out of his aft.
"Negligible complications." The Tapedeck was only half lying, his spark did feel somewhat okay. The silver mech maintained his worried frown, but slowly moved his servo away in silent permission.
Soundwave took a moment to find the release hatch, and with a hiss, the spark stabiliser slowly removed itself. A white mist of condensed water vapour drifted downward from the liquid nitrogen, coming from the gaps created by the separation. It fell like a thick river of Energon at slow speeds.
Soundwave's EM field boomed with sorrow as he found his spark chamber to be mangled underneath. There was no way he could put anything in there, let alone open the hatch to his subspace. Without a single word, the large mech understood and repossessed the paperbacks, placing them in his own subspace once again. The blue mech's servo and visor followed as if trying to grab them from him.
"I'll hold onto them until your subspace is repaired." The large mech reassured him with a weak smile. Soundwave was too exhausted to argue and instead, went to rub his faceplates with sore servos.
Something felt off. Hastily, he felt his mouth guard, or at least, what used to be there. The blue mech's digits ran along his naked derma. In a micro-klik, Soundwave jolted upwards with a horrified gasp. A shaky servo placed over his derma as if it were a lifeline.
"My mouth guard...w-where is it?!" The smaller mech yelled in panic. No bot- not even Caliper, had seen him without it. NO BOT had ever seen him this way. And he had no intention of allowing Megatron to catch a glimpse.
"I think it came off during the attack..." Megatron spoke softly as if trying not to spook him. The loner began to hyperventilate. He was visibly disturbed, and it churned the large mech's spark to see it.
"Hey, hey..." The brute made an attempt to calm Soundwave by cupping his faceplates once more, but they were slapped away. He tried a different route.
"I think you look handsome...with or without, but particularly without the mouth guard." Megatron spoke as if it were a known fact. He held no hesitation in his words. The blue mech froze and turned towards him, servo still covering his derma.
"I don't know why you feel the need to cover your faceplates, but I really don't see a reason for it." Megatron sat back down onto the hover-seat below him.
"You-uhhh... I think your derma...look very nice.." He finished with a timid smile, rubbing the back of his helm with his servo. Soundwave smiled very lightly, not enough for the other to notice behind his servo, but enough for a tiny warmth to envelop his spark. No bot had ever complimented him before. This was strange territory.
The blue mech hesitantly lowered his servo and turned his helm away so he wasn't looking directly at the other mech. Soundwave was too flustered to give his thanks, so he emitted a small EMF saying just that. He still didn't like the idea of Megatron seeing him without his trusty mouth guard. But he was grateful for the tiniest spark of worry that floated away as he replayed the words in his processor.
A comfortable silence wrapped around them. Strange, yet soothing. To enjoy somebot's company was new to Soundwave, a sensation he had never known, something he hadn't realised he was desperately missing. And still, somehow, it felt perfectly right, as though something deeper stirred quietly in the space between them- unspoken words, intertwining into something more.
Then, without any warning, the hatch burst open. Startling the sparks out of both mechs.
"I am terribly sorry, but you have to leave- right now!" First Aid yelled in a panic. Megatron stood up immediately, almost collapsing from the sudden change in posture.
"What in the forge of Solus Prime is going on?! He's not ready to leave yet, he can't!" The large mech demanded.
"Megatron- If there was another way, I would- but I have no choice- you two have to leave this instant!" Soundwave began to shakily make his way off the med-berth. He weakly swung his leg struts over to the edge, but suddenly got hit with a wave of vertigo. The floor seemed to shrink away from his pedes.
"My boss caught word- I don't know how- but if he finds Soundwave in here- the entire medical facility will be at risk." First Aid spoke in a rush, meddling with the Energon barrel.
"I don't give two frags about your supervisor! Soundwave won't survive-" Megatron is interrupted by a sob.
"TRUST ME! I would swap places with Soundwave if I could!" The brute was taken aback by the selfless comment for a short moment.
"I would..." The medic whispered. He then quickly shook his helm as if trying to snap out of a trance.
"I've sent you coordinates for a- well, somebot owes me big time, and he can help you." The medic hastily melted off the Energon connections so as not to worsen Soundwave's condition. He destroyed the cables of the infuser and used the extra metals to fuse the holes in Soundwave's lines shut.
The blue mech's processor was too overwhelmed in anxiety to notice the pain. Megatron reset his optics. Confused with all the new information, he studied the coords in the midst of the flurry.
"But this is in Tarn- That's too far! We-we're in Altihex for Unicron's sake!" Megatron was beyond frustrated.
"You're seriously doing this to save your fraggin' job- over a mech's life?!" First Aid stiffened at this and turned to the accuser with a fragged off EMF.
"My job is in the pits as far as the chief is concerned. But there are other medics here- and they don't deserve to lose their income, their careers- over my actions." The medic spoke with genuine concern.
"I'm truly sorry I cannot help more." First Aid finishes with crackles in his voice box.
Megatron stood frozen, lost in thought. He couldn't stay here. If they were discovered, Soundwave and he would almost certainly be thrown out, and Megatron himself would likely be taken into custody. That would only make things worse for the Tapedeck, leaving him alone and vulnerable. Megatron couldn't allow that.
With a shaky ex-vent, and a soft gaze over to Soundwave, he speaks, defeated.
"I guess we're going to Tarn."
The sun scorched against the silver plating of the mech, turning his armour into a furnace. His actuators groaned under the relentless heat, protesting with every movement. Megatron had hauled Soundwave for several joors beyond Altihex, reaching the fringes of its borders.
There lay a wasteland, a hollow stretch of discarded metal and forgotten relics- where bots cast aside the remnants of what they no longer valued.
"Can you please put me down now?" Soundwave asked for the umpteenth time this cycle. The brute didn't have sufficient energy to argue this time and gingerly put him down on his pedes.
The Tapedeck released a startled groan when his legstruts were forced to support his weight, but he seemed to be able to stand by his own volition. The large mech frantically offered his support, but Soundwave refused, waving his servo dismissively.
Megatron straightened his back strut with a creak, his gaze sweeping the vast expanse of the Sonic Canyons ahead.
Soundwave had successfully managed to avoid optic contact the entire trek. He needed to find a replacement mouth guard. The stress on his spark and core processor only worsened each time a fleeting glance came from the silver mech.
An unrelenting weight had settled upon the Tapedeck's spark the moment he discovered the loss of his mouth guard. A burden that did not fade with passing groons, but grew denser still, as if time itself had fused into the weight upon his spark.
The blue mech struggled to take his first step, and it took all of his self-control and years of discipline not to scream out in pain, but he managed. He stops just behind the ex-gladiator, not wanting the other to get a chance to catch sight of his derma.
Soundwave was forced to cradle his left arm strut. The tear in the fluid channel had clearly left some lasting damage, and even though he wasn't leaking Energon anymore, it still hurt like slag.
The Tapedeck carefully glanced at Megatron's faceplates, trying to discern exactly what he was looking at, before hastily looking away so he wouldn't notice. The larger mech didn't seem to be looking at anything in particular, and yet, Soundwave attempted to find anything in the midst of the Sonic Canyons. Maybe a clue. Or perhaps he could be useful for once in his function and offer a solution as to how to get across?
The Sonic Canyons stretched across the horizon like a series of vast, jagged scars. Under the brutal glare of Cybertron's sun, their metal cliffs blazed white-hot, reflecting the light in blinding shards. The brightness clawed at Soundwave's optics, forcing him to narrow his gaze. Heat shimmered over the landscape, turning the air into a wavering haze that distorted the edges of the chasms. Every surface radiated energy. And yet a glance below revealed a darkness that felt hollow and dead.
The sound was overwhelming. The sonic booms tore through the canyons in violent gusts, amplifying every creak and groan of stressed metal until it became a deafening roar. Fragments of rust and scrap tumbled from the upper ledges, clattering down into the depths. When they fell, the echoes didn't fade- they multiplied, ricocheting endlessly.
A chorus of metallic screams that violated their inner processors. Beneath it all came something deeper. A low vibration, almost like a sparkbeat, pulsing through the ground in slow, steady waves. It ricocheted against every inner wall of the canyon, amplifying the sound furthermore.
Megatron's faceplates contorted into something grim.
"I cannot think of a plausible way to get through..." Megatron hummed, more to himself than the Tapedeck.
Soundwave watched as another massive vibration tore through the canyon, sending a jagged cliff edge shuddering violently. The metal groaned and twisted under the strain, small fractures racing across its surface until a chunk finally gave way. It slid slowly into the yawning empty space below, catching on a protruding ledge just enough to hang suspended. A precarious, twisted piece of scrap forming a crude, unstable support.
This gave the blue mech an idea.
"What if we...make our own way across?" Soundwave spoke hesitantly. Unsure if the silver mech wanted any opinions. Megatron shifted to face Soundwave, but the Tapedeck's optics flicked back toward the canyon almost immediately. He edged closer to the rim, keeping his faceplates angled away from the mech who was now behind him.
"How do you mean?" Megatron spoke softly. It was a stark contrast to the deafening sonic booms coming from the canyon.
"Well... at each vibration, the canyon shifts ever so slightly..." Soundwave struggled to speak through his static-laden voice box, the deafening sonic blasts from the canyon almost drowning out his words.
"Pieces of metal fall, but it also exposes some shards at awkward angles...we could use them to create a makeshift bridge to get across." Soundwave shrank into himself as he finished. He thought what a stupid idea it must have sounded like to someone like Megatron.
He probably already thought of that and disregarded the idea as too reckless...
Primus, you're an idiot..
"That's...genius!" Megatron exclaimed in wonder. The blue mech couldn't believe what his audio receptors were picking up. How could the brute not scorn him? That warmth reappeared in his spark. Soundwave would've studied the ex-gladiator's face plates if he had his mouth guard. He wanted so badly to take in whatever expression Megatron had at that moment. He yearned to remember it.
"Perfect!" Megatron exclaimed excitedly, ripping Soundwave out of his processor. The large brute began to collect large, flat chunks of metal that gave way to his firm pull. The blue mech approached a neighbouring edge, wanting to help, but Megatron hastily stopped him.
"Soundwave! You're in no condition to be helping- please, just wait a safe distance away. I'll be done in no time. Okay?" The silver mech tried his best to give a reassuring smile. The Tapedeck was quick to turn his helm in another direction, taking a few pained steps away from the edge. He hated feeling so useless. But he didn't see a possibility of winning an argument with the other mech.
Soundwave attempted not to think about the unrelenting pain shooting through his entire arm strut. It was becoming unbearable. And they still had to get through Tesk and Kalis before reaching Tarn. He wasn't sure if he could manage...
In a feeble attempt to distract himself, Soundwave locked his optics on the silver mech as he hauled jagged slabs of scrap from the canyon edge. Every movement...Megatron's deliberate steps, the way he leveraged his bulk to shift heavy pieces, the slight adjustment of his faceplates as he tested the balance- pulled an unfamiliar current through the blue mech's systems. The warmth returned, flickering in his spark, subtle and insistent, a sensation he had no concept of, and yet, it was impossible to ignore.
The canyon roared around them, vibrations rattling the rim and shaking loose fragments of metal, but the Tapedeck's attention never wavered. Megatron paused to adjust a particularly stubborn girder, flexing his digits and letting a small shard slip into place. That simple motion made the warmth pulse brighter, spreading through Soundwave's core in a way that was both thrilling and disorienting.
He had no term for it. But it anchored him in a strange, focused awareness, tethered entirely to the mech moving with such calculated force before him.
When a sudden tremor rattled the canyon rim, Megatron's stance shifted to absorb the shock, his hold on the flimsy creation stiffening. Soundwave watched, alert to the tremor yet unwilling to divert from the other's motions. He noted the subtle way the ex-gladiator adjusted himself, how effortless strength met careful precision, and that sensation in his spark deepened, quiet but undeniable. It was a pulse he couldn't interpret, a signal that whispered of longing and something more.
The feeling bellowed in the core of his spark, a low, resonant thrum that refused to fade. It was the same strange radiance that had first flickered to life back in the medical facility. But here, on the jagged rim of the Sonic Canyons, the ember had become a furnace. The pull gripped deeper now, curling through his circuitry like a molten current, relentless and magnetic.
Soundwave had never felt this way before. It compelled him further. He cherished the moment. The blue mech only wished he could experience it for eternity.
By the time the last piece of scrap clicked into place for the makeshift bridge, Soundwave was acutely aware of every motion Megatron made. Each shift, each flex, each deliberate step along the canyon rim carried a resonance that tugged at him.
"It's the best I could do with the time..." Megatron's low voice broke the other's trance. The blue mech couldn't help but jolt as if he'd been electrified. The brute's helm tilted, he shrugged as if unsure.
"It'll have to do." He finished, trying to convince himself with a steady nod and an EMF of determination as he looked over at the Tapedeck.
For the first time, Soundwave didn't shy away from his gentle glance. He was mesmerised by those crimson optics, burning with purpose.
"You ready?" The brute spoke expectantly, extending a servo, whilst maintaining a secure grip on his makeshift bridge with his pede. Soundwave hesitantly stepped closer, careful not to allow any pained groans to come out through his strained vocaliser. Just as the Tapedeck was close enough to grab the large mech's servo, he stopped.
His only good arm strut was frozen in the middle of reaching out. To willingly touch another mech was...alien. And yet, that blazing fire within screamed at him to seize that servo and intertwine it with his own.
And so he did.
With a shaky in-vent and a hesitant motion, he accepted the servo that was so delicately offered. Yet it radiated strength. The instant his digits met Megatron's, a steady pressure flowed through the contact, firm and unwavering, anchoring him in a way that stirred a quiet resonance deep in the core of his spark.
The Canyon bellowed once more, shaking the metallic ground beneath them. Megatron's grip strengthened in response. The makeshift bridge creaked under their weight, the anchors growing unstable from the vibrations, but by some Primus miracle, the improvised crossing held together.
Megatron led the way, every motion deliberate, his frame a moving anchor of strength. The sun beat down mercilessly, reflecting off the metal shards in blinding bursts that made Soundwave narrow his optics, the heat shimmering in waves along the rim. He locked his focus on the platform in front, trying his best to duplicate Megatron's movements.
Soundwave followed, careful with each step, using the firm hold on his servo as a source of stability. The Canyon below roared, vibrations rattling the bridge and sending dust and small fragments tumbling into the abyss below. Each metallic echo reverberated in his core, yet the pulse he felt there- the faint warmth, the glow in his spark- kept him focused on the mech ahead.
Megatron paused briefly, testing a particularly unstable plank. Soundwave mirrored him, adjusting his stance on the swaying bridge. The scrap groaned under their combined weight, and for a moment, it seemed as if the bridge might give. But the silver mech's grip on the nearest girder steadied the span, and the bridge held.
They moved slowly, almost rhythmically, a careful succession across the gaping canyon. Every shift of metal, every snap of a loose shard, made the world feel alive, dangerous- but Soundwave's optics never left Megatron. The path was treacherous, the heat oppressive, and yet each step across the bridge carried them closer, tethered by strength, purpose, and an unspoken resonance that pulsed quietly between them.
Suddenly, a section of the improvised metal sheeting buckled. A long plank snapped, sending loose scrap skittering over the edge. Soundwave's pede slid on the unstable metal, and for a sparkbeat, he hung suspended over the yawning void, limbs flailing as his grip failed to find purchase.
"SOUNDWAVE!" Megatron's guttural scream cut through the roar of the canyon. In one swift motion, he lunged forward, his large servo clamping around Soundwave's lower arm strut just before he tumbled into the abyss. The bridge shuddered violently, splinters and shards clanging around them, and for a nano-klik, both were suspended in a chaotic balance between collapse and survival.
Without hesitation, Megatron hoisted Soundwave to his side. Using a strong push from his leg struts, his exhaustion non-existent in the flurry. He propelled them both off the weakened bridge, clearing the collapsing scrap in a controlled leap. They landed hard on solid ground across the canyon rim, the bridge collapsing entirely behind them with a metallic roar that echoed against the walls.
Soundwave's optics flickered as he struggled to compose himself, quick, jagged vents released from his trembling frame. The air disturbed the tiny flecks of metal and dirt beneath his faceplates. Coolant pooled within his optics, blurring the Tapedeck's vision. This only served to worsen his anxiety as the blue mech was unable to focus on anything but the feeling of pure dread that shattered his core when he hung over the edge.
A massive shadow darkened his world. Then a firm hold was placed on his backstrut. Knee actuators came into view as the brute knelt before him. A voice broke through a sonic blast, distracting his processor.
"Hey...focus.." Megatron's voice was firm, whilst radiating a gentle compassion. A large servo caressed Soundwave's faceplates, tenderly guiding his helm upwards to meet the silver mech's optics. Those damn optics were brimming with compassion.
The Tapedeck couldn't help but burst into an uncontrollable sob. It was all too much. The confusing romantic advances, the attack, the jealousy, the medic, the harsh grasp of Unicron on his spark as he teetered on the edge of the Sonic Canyon.
He silently thanked Primus for the rare blessing of solitude that graced them. A second servo cupped the other side of his faceplate, grounding his attention back on the silver mech.
"Focus on me, Soundwave.." Megatron maintained a firm hold on the blue mech's helm. Said mech, let out a choked sob, his quivering frame slowly leaned into the touch. The sensation in his spark reignited, steadying his core. A gentle smile painted the large mech's faceplates.
"We're okay...we made it...we did it!" The ex-gladiator spoke with relief washing over his frame. The Tapedeck's uneven vents slowly regained their normal pace, his processor settling into a calm, regulated hum. The storm within him fading into steady resonance.
It felt as though the chaos of the canyon, the roaring sonic booms, the collapsing metal, the blinding heat- had all been drained from that very moment. Leaving only the steady thrum of Megatron's frame against his own. Every vibration, every low-frequency resonance of the silver mech's chassis, seeped into Soundwave's spark, anchoring that warmth that had been flickering there for so long.
He leaned in further, surrendering to the strength that had protected him, and for the first time, the pull in his spark softened into something certain. The world beyond dissolved into silence.
What remained was Megatron's embrace, steady and encompassing, like a shield against all harm. Within that hold, Soundwave's spark felt something...a realisation. An absolute and unshakable awareness, as though nothing in the universe could breach it. He felt...
Safe
Notes:
Next chapter will be up within 2 days c':
So I struggled to find a nice “mid-class” place for this story to take place in, and eventually, I settled on Altihex. In comparison, Tarn is 1 country and a canyon away.
Referring to this map, both locations are on the right. Tarn is in dark blue, while the Altihex is below it in green:
Chapter 10: Shockwave
Summary:
The pair meets an intimidating scientist.
Notes:
Tick/ Nano-klik = 1 Second
Klik = 1.2 minutes
Breem = 8.3 minutes
Joor / Groon = 1 Hour 15 minutes
Orbital Cycle / Solar cycle = 1 Day
Fluid channels = Veins
Energon lines = Supply line of Energon
Over-energised = Drunk
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The sun had set but half a joor ago, the celestial stars shimmered almost as if whispering secrets to one another across the infinite dark blanket that covered Cybertron’s sky. They became distant echoes in the universe.
Soundwave found solace in the endless sprawl of stars. Their silent brilliance drew him into deep thoughts. In them, he saw fragments of himself. Solitary beacons scattered across a cold expanse. Many were born in isolation, burning fiercely only to die alone, millions of light-years from the nearest spark of life. To Soundwave, their solitude was not tragic, but familiar. A quiet truth written in light.
“Stargazing?” Megatron broke the blissful silence with a soft-spoken tone. It almost sounded as though he was teasing the blue mech.
“Uh-Oh... apologies... I didn’t mean to distract you..” The Tapedeck replied, flustered. He returned his gaze to the littered ground. Their journey through Tesk and Kalis was behind them, but the path ahead was worse. Mountains of garbage rising like tombstones, as if the land itself had been condemned to die beneath its own decay.
Soundwave desperately wished his leg struts worked on their own. After barely surviving the collapse at the Sonic Canyons, he was only able to walk for a few kliks before his entire frame gave up on functioning. After a moment of disagreement, Megatron had finally convinced the blue mech to carry him once more.
Although..
It was nice to be carried. It wasn’t the act of being lifted that stirred Soundwave’s spark so much as the subtle pressure of Megatron’s servo on his leg struts and chassis. The Tapedeck would never admit it to another living spark, but he found the hold... comforting. Since first discovering the sensation of warmth and safety, the blue mech had been hopelessly addicted to it. For the first time, it seemed as though his spark could finally rest, if not just a little.
On the other servo, Megatron had also been damaged in the attack, and Soundwave hung like a dead weight while the silver mech struggled to carry them both. A sharp wave of guilt seared through the core of the Tapedeck’s spark. He was using the ex-gladiator for his own comfort. And Megatron was paying the price.
“Put me down..” Soundwave spoke coldly. The other ex-vented in protest, shaking his helm.
“Don’t worry, we’re almost there. We’re just a few breems away!” The brute tried to reassure the blue mech. He attempted to read the injured mech’s EMF, but it was oddly empty.
“I dont- Just put me down!!” Soundwave exclaimed a little harsher than intended. Megatron froze, trying to discern the other mech. The atmosphere grew heavy. With a lingering pause, the large mech gingerly placed him on the ground, trying to avoid plunking the bot on a pile of unstable trash. He tried to get a look at the stoic bot, yet Soundwave kept his gaze fixed on the mangled pile of trash at his pedes.
“I’m sorry I...” The large mech hesitated, searching for a moment where he may have upset the Tapedeck. He was unable to come up with a plausible explanation, so he guessed.
“Did I hurt you..?” The brute maintained a worried gaze at the backside of Soundwave’s helm. Said mech shrank in response.
“No...I...” The blue mech wanted to explain himself, but couldn’t find the words.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have- I...” He stopped himself before he said something stupid. His visor glowed in frustration. The smaller mech settled on emitting an apologetic EMF. This seemed to confuse Megatron further.
“You’re fine...we...we should go..” Soundwave muttered before attempting to walk over a small slope just ahead of them. Every circuit screamed through his processor, a chorus of jolts and static that made each movement a torment. Sparks of strain bolted along his actuators, and motors protested with grinding whines that echoed through his frame.
Every step sent shockwaves of fatigue radiating through his systems, and even the simplest adjustment of his servos felt like wading through molten metal. He needed to rest- desperately. But the blue mech knew he could only surrender to relief once they reached their destination. Until then, he forced each motion through the haze of pain, determination fueling the relentless march.
Most of all, he didn’t want to burden Megatron with any pained groans. Every micron of his being ached, but Soundwave summoned the last reserves of his strength, clenching servos and tightening dented frame pieces to stay silent. Each movement was agony, yet he forced himself to endure it quietly, masking the storm of pain beneath a calm exterior.
Megatron was taken aback, if only for a moment. His processor churned, sifting through recent memories for anything that might have sparked the Tapedeck’s attitude. Had he said something? Done something? The apology only deepened the mystery, its weight pressing against his processor like a ghost signal looping in his comms array. With a faint shake of his helm, he dismissed the uncertainty- for now- and moved to the front, striding toward the location of this so-called bot who could offer help.
The only solid lead Megatron possessed was that this mech owed a debt to First Aid. Beyond that, he knew nothing- no designation worth trusting, no history he could count on. The memory of recent failures gnawed at his core, leaving the ex-gladiator’s thoughts dark and unsettled.
What if this mech was akin to the other fraggers who refused to help Soundwave...
Too many had turned their backstruts when Soundwave needed aid. Cloaking their cowardice in excuses. What if this bot were no different? Just another cog who would sneer and refuse, letting the blue mech suffer as the other bots had? The thought ignited a slow, dangerous burn in Megatron’s spark, a silent promise of what would follow if history dared repeat itself.
If he had to, he would crush this mech into submission. Bend every servo, snap every circuit, dislocate every actuator, and leave no doubt who held the verdict. Nothing would stand in the way of Soundwave’s welfare. Not anymore.
The brute’s fury would not go unnoticed this time.
The breems dragged on, each one stretching into an eternity as agony crackled through Soundwave’s frame, burning like overcharged energon in his conduits. At last, the silhouette of an abandoned structure loomed from the shadows. Silent, waiting.
The structure loomed against the night, its surface flaking with rust and corrosion, panels torn away like forgotten armour. Faint glimmers of starlight traced along fractured beams and hollow conduits, where coolant once flowed. From deep within came nothing. No hum of dormant systems, no pulse of energon, no mindless chatter of bots, only stillness. Faded glyphs scarred the building’s surface. The markings were left illegible, their purpose erased by time.
Breezes hissed through the broken metal, carrying a cold, threatening note.
A sudden ragged yell split the silence apart. Both mechs had tensed harder than they thought possible and snapped their helms toward the source.
Across the dead, littered street sat a small bar. Its illuminated sign flickered, some glyphs long since dark. Near the entrance, a stumbling, over-energised bot laughed clumsily, his gruff voice bouncing off the empty street.
The two mechs notably relaxed, armour plating settling down. Soundwave released a shaky ex-vent he was unaware of holding.
“Well...the coordinates say we’re here..” Megatron whispered, unwilling to capture the attention of any bot nearby. Soundwave simply nodded in reply. He despised this place. The trash-strewn streets, the intoxicated bots staggering nearby. Even the air felt thick and oppressive. Charged with a lingering sense of unease. It made his fluid channels tighten.
“I cant- do you see an entrance by chance? This whole building seems to be blocked off..” The brute muttered, optical ridges furrowing in thought.
“Maybe the other side...” The Tapedeck followed in a hushed tone, quietly following the brute as he took the lead. Slinking around the building led to a large dumpster and a poorly concealed hole leading into the abandoned building. Megatron huffed in determination and wasted no time approaching the ominous covering. Soundwave almost squeaked at the sudden absence of his security. With a moment of hesitation, he followed.
Megatron glared at the thick metal blast door in the way. There didn’t seem to be any connections or hinges, it was simply placed there to cover the opening. The brute caressed his chin plating with a thoughtful digit. He braced himself, grabbing either side of the blast door and straining to lift it with a grunt. When it refused to budge, he let out a heavy ex-vent of frustration.
Soundwave approached without a word, stepping beside the battered mech. His dented servos gripped the edge of the massive blast door, the matte-black slab cold and lifeless against his digits. It wasn’t locked, just impossibly heavy. A dead weight meant to bar even the strongest mechs.
Together, they pushed.
The door didn’t slide; it resisted like a fallen titan. Servos strained, internal actuators grinding as stress warnings flashed across the Tapedeck’s HUD. Once again, he switched them off. Circuits burned with white-hot static as the blue mech’s frame locked against the resistance, vents roaring clouds of vapour into the chill night air.
The sound came next- a deep, resonant groan as metal scraped against the scarred ground, rattling fragments of debris. The blast door shifted a fraction, then another, every klik feeling like an age as they forced the slab aside, energon dripping from split seams in his plating. Only now did the blue mech notice that a large sum of his lacerations had reopened.
Finally, with one last violent heave, the door slammed against the cracked wall with a thunderous CLANG that echoed through the hollow ruins and dead streets. Dust and rust flakes rained down as silence reclaimed the night- disturbed only by the rasp of their vents cycling, harsh and uneven. The way inside stood open.
Megatron let out a victorious chuckle, glancing over at the other. Soundwave shyly smiled in response, but was quick to turn his attention elsewhere.
What remained before them was a gaping hole able to fit a bot not much larger than Megatron. The blue mech’s spark churned, anxious. The brute was first to enter. Holding out his servo, silently signalling to the other bot to wait there while he scouted the area, ensuring it was safe. After a klik of uneasy silence, the silver mech wordlessly nodded to Soundwave, giving the all-clear.
With a groaned pede-step, the Tapedeck walked inside. The air was different. Aside from the gentle whiff of cleaning solution, there was a certain ‘heaviness’ to the atmosphere that didn’t sit well with the blue mech. But he would have to set his fears aside if he was to survive the orbital cycle. The strain of the entire trek had pushed him beyond his limit. At last, Soundwave let a pained whimper slip through his vocaliser.
Megatron was at his side in immediately, trying to offer structural support by gingerly holding his elbow actuators. It was only now that the silver mech noticed the Energon leaking out of every crevice of Soundwave’s frame. He shuddered, horrified.
“By the AllSpark...Soundwave! Here... sit down.” The brute guided the leaking mech toward a nearby storage container, easing him down with care. The makeshift seat groaned under the weight, the silence around them broken only by the harsh hiss of Soundwave’s vents and the faint drip of Energon pooling on the cold metal ground.
In an instance, the energy surrounding them dropped to a horrifyingly unfamiliar aura. Both of the mech’s optics locked onto each other before slowly turning their helms to the source. It took but only a nanoklik for Soundwave to recognise the sensation gripping his spark to be a strong pulse of an EMF.
A massive mech loomed in the entrance of the abandoned building, easily dwarfing even Megatron. A single, unnervingly bright optic burned through the darkness, piercing the gloom like a predator’s gaze. One arm strut was missing, replaced by a colossal cannon that radiated lethal potential. One shot and both of them could be obliterated.
The mech’s other servo clutched a mangled, unrecognisable mass. Shadows and flickering light hid its exact form, but the sickly glow of leaking Energon pulsed from it, crawling along its surface like living poison. Soundwave’s circuits shivered involuntarily. Every nano-klik spent analysing it only amplified the dread coiling through his frame. The presence simply loomed, promising devastation in its path.
In the dreadfully painful expanse of silence, the looming figure abruptly dropped the mangled form on the ground. A violent jolt shook the Tapedeck, as he couldn’t help but whimper. Yet, the mech did not move a pede-step. The threatening EMF had dissipated, soon replaced by an undetectable emptiness.
“The bar lies across the street.” His voice was void of any emotion, it was cold and calculated. Soundwave furrowed his optical ridges at the statement.
“I advise immediate departure. Your continued presence will not be tolerated.” The mech’s EMF was amplified with a threatening promise. Megatron, straightened his backstrut and spoke after a clearing of his vocaliser.
“Are you.... Are you Shockwave?” The brute seemed unsure of how to approach the situation, although the blue mech soon noticed a spark of determination booming through his field.
“That is my designation.” The purple mech replied before turning to his side and grabbing a hold of the mangled pile of metal. Dragging it with an audial deafening shriek on the ground as sparks scattered about. The silver mech all but ex-vented.
“I need you to help my friend here, he’s in desperate need of medical attention-” The brute’s pleas are cut short as the mangled metal falls with a heavy clank. Shockwave turns to face both mechs.
“You enter my quarters without authorisation and presume I will provide aid?” His helm tilts ever so slightly. The blue mech could only guess that the request had irritated him. Soundwave suddenly feels a wave of resentment flowing through the brute next to him, but it’s hidden as quickly as it came. The Tapedeck quietly lets out a shallow ex-vent, his arm strut was proving to be difficult.
“First Aid gave us the coords to this location. Says you owe him...big time.” Megatron speaks in a threateningly low growl. It’s only at this moment that Soundwave begins thinking of ways to diffuse the situation. Neither of them was in any position to be fighting anybot, especially one with a weapon...
The silence hangs in the room like a corpse waiting to rust. Shockwave’s optic hums in thought.
“Negative.” As if the air could be any more tense, a heavy sensation drapes over the entire room. Megatron’s plating flares up, his faceplates contouring into a dreadful scowl.
“Listen here, you oversized monocle...we’ve been through enough slag to cover a lifetime. And I’ve had more than enough of you bots thinking you’re better than Soundwave-” Megatron advanced, swallowing the space between them and asserting dominance without a word. His field booming in rage.
Soundwave’s spark froze. Unable to say anything.
“The gladiator rings built me from scrap and fire. Pain and fear were my instructors, and I survived when others would have been reduced to slag. You? You’re just a malfunctioning gear, a joke of a mech. I’ll dismantle you without effort. The only sounds you’ll hear are the shattering of your plating, the grinding of overloaded circuits, the splatter of venting energon, and the final crackle of your spark extinguishing.”
Stillness gripped the air, heavy and oppressive. Desperation spiked as Soundwave tried to discern the purple mech. However, he was unable to detect anything. The silent defiance of the other mech set his systems on edge.
“Your conclusion is plausible. However, your evaluation disregards my strategic combat experience.” The massive purple mech stares the brute dead in the optics. Megatron remains quiet, tilting his helm with his everlasting harsh gaze.
“I have yet to utilise my newfound knowledge, but I may be inclined to... test my skills on an opponent of sufficient calibre.” Shockwave’s optic glows brighter, almost as if beckoning the other mech.
Soundwave’s optics flickered between the two towering frames. Every sensor was straining to process a peaceful outcome before the situation could explode. Logic circuits screamed contradictions. Neither Megatron nor he was able to fight anybot effectively. And yet Megatron radiated raw, unrestrained fury. Every actuator in his frame coiled in challenge as he stood against Shockwave without a moment’s hesitation.
Soundwave’s processors churned frantically, running simulations, analysing micro-movements, calculating probabilities. But every possibility ended in chaos. His servos vibrated with tension, vents spitting erratic puffs of overheated vapour, and a low hum thrummed through his chassis as panic clawed at his circuits.
He needed a plan. Any action that could redirect the inevitable. But the window for intervention was collapsing with every crimson flicker of Megatron’s optics. Without wasting another moment, he stood on shaky leg struts, his plating threatening to collapse beneath him as every actuator groaned in protest.
“I know this is sudden...we’re truly sorry for barging in uninvited...First Aid was unable to finish what he started.” A long, weary ex-vent escaped the Tapedeck. He looked down, scarcely aware of the Energon pooling at his pedes.
“I beg you...to finish his work...please...w-we came all the way from Altihex...please... We’ve been travelling for solar cycles...I’m tired..” His whisper was thin and weak, almost imperceptible. The mangled visor offered some solace, hiding the optical fluid spilling from his strained optics.
A brief silence washes over, once again. Megatron’s expression changes from blind rage to concern as he walks over to the blue mech in hopes of offering some support. Shockwave stares blankly at the scene in front of him.
“You are discharging energon across my floor. Move to the table.” The scientist states before making his way to said table. The brute is already in motion to help Soundwave on the surgical table, but Soundwave shakes his helm in protest. The Tapedeck approached a thick metal slab, carefully emitting a thankful EMF as he climbed onto the metal segment with a wince.
He notices Megatron standing a few paces away, maintaining a wary optic on the purple mech. Shockwave produces a diagnostic scanner from his subspace and immediately begins scanning the blue mech.
“Energon necessary for this task surpasses my current reserves.” The scientist states as he places the scanner back into his subspace. Soundwave glances over at the silver mech, worry painting his faceplates. The towering mech then turns to face Megatron.
“I require you to gather more. Three tanks. The neighbouring medical facility in Sector 9-1F offers the most abundant supply.” The purple mechs helm tilts over to the exit, he stares at the brute expectantly.
“And I suppose they’ll just roll out a red carpet and donate the whole reservoir personally?” Megatron couldn’t help but lace his reply with sarcasm. His arm struts were crossed defensively.
“You may acquire it through unauthorised means.” Shockwave spoke as if it were obvious. The ex-gladiator took personal offense to this.
“What do you think I’m some kind of ingrate thief?!” The brute almost yells with animated servos.
“I lack the necessary observation to validate that claim.” The single-optic mech fired back without delay.
The brute seethed in silence, burning his optics into the other’s helm as if he could scorch his processor with sheer force of will. He weighed the benefits and disadvantages of such a task. Of course, he had no intention of being this cog’s lackey. However, for Soundwave, he would go to any lengths. After all they’ve been through, far too much to stop now.
Reluctantly, he swallowed the urge to lash out with a snide remark, recognising it would do nothing for the Tapedeck’s state. Pride stifled, he kept his deathly glare locked on the purple mech. He didn’t trust this bot...
“It'll be a lot easier to steal that Energon if you let Soundwave help. If you repair him- Just enough to function-”
“No.” It was a cold and simple remark. The silver mech ex-vented in frustration.
“Look, I understand we just met, but if you’re anything like First Aid, you’ll trust us.” He tried persuasion. The purple mech spoke before he could continue.
“Observations indicate that dependable bots are scarce within Tarn. And in turn, most likely the entirety of Cybertron. Self-interest governs behaviour, and even overt assurances often conceal ulterior motives. Trust, therefore, is a strategic liability.” The scientist had begun to clean a tool in his grasp with a microfiber mesh cloth.
“But your friend-” Soundwave attempts to argue, softly. The towering mech turns to face the blue mech, interrupting him. He couldn’t help but shrink in response.
“First Aid is not a friend. He is merely a bot with whom I’ve had prior interactions.” His optics glows subtly, as if trying to enunciate the fact.
The battered brute’s servos clenched in tense restraint. Words, threats, or any attempt at persuasion would be futile, he would not be swayed by anything other than his own judgment. His optics flickered over Soundwave’s weakened form, and a surge of protective determination coursed through his spark. Despite the frustration and fury he felt toward Shockwave, he could only silently give thanks to Primus that the mech was at least willing to aid the blue mech.
“Until you prove yourself, I shall remain vigilant. As for Soundwave, he remains stationed here. He may be considered a source of leverage.“ Shockwave replies. This ignites an offended flame in the ex-gladiator's spark. The fact that this bot would insult the blue mech by calling him an object of leverage? Megatron growls, slowly closing in on the purple mech.
In a quick moment, Soundwave manages to capture the angered brute’s attention before he could do something he’d regret. His anger slowly dissipated at the sight of the blue mech.
“I’ll be fine..” Soundwave denotes quietly, with a weak smile and a nod of assurance. Megatron’s optics flutter, his plating relaxing. He decides to instead threaten the single-optic mech.
“If I see one scuff on his plating, ONE sensor array out of alignment- I will not hesitate to obliterate you.” The silver mech points a digit at the scientist, almost daring him to try.
“It is illogical to allocate precious Energon to a mech destined for termination.” The purple mech remained with his backstrut facing him. Placing an array of tools on a neighbouring tray.
With that settled, Megatron offers Soundwave a gentle gaze. He observed how the blue mech trembled, vents shallow and uneven, every movement betraying the strain he carried. It was painful to witness, each flicker of suffering stabbing at something deep within him. Yet rather than weakening his resolve, it only fueled his determination further. An unspoken promise that he would see Soundwave through this ordeal, no matter the cost.
Oh, how he wished he could stride forward and give the Tapedeck a firm, grounding hug goodbye. But the silver mech held himself in strict restraint. Now was far from an appropriate moment. And even if it weren’t, he wasn’t certain Soundwave would welcome that kind of contact. So he remained still, forcing his empathy into silence, letting his concern speak only through watchful optics and a reassuring nod.
“I’ll be as quick as I can...I give you my word.” Megatron’s words carried a rare gentleness as he admired the blue mech’s faceplates one final time, then, without further delay, he took his leave.
Soundwave would never admit it, but he felt a sense of searing pride when Megatron threatened the scientist. He was still growing accustomed to these new sensations, but this warmth was treasured. He allowed a shy half-smile to dawn on his derma as Megatron spoke those last words before his departure.
A small wave of relief washed over the Tapedeck as his admirer finally left—he no longer had to mask his faceplates. That fleeting lift in his spark, however, brought back a lingering question he’d meant to ask the scientist.
“Do you...perhaps...have any spare mouth guards?” The blue mech barely spoke above a murmur. This mech, who had already agreed to repair his major damage, had no reason to be charitable. Especially to a bot like Soundwave... Shockwave stilled, lost in his processor for a nano-klik, then he turned his helm with silent precision.
“Perhaps.”
Notes:
Is Shockwave gonna be nice? :( Is Megatron gonna manage?! Where the hell is Starscream!?!?
I know I posted this chapter a day late, but I really struggled...shjsdfkgj. Now I know that I need around 3 days to complete a chapter. Please bear with me and my BS! <3 (PS. I have some interesting things planned for the next chapters >:3)
thicketsWhistle (Guest) on Chapter 2 Tue 26 Aug 2025 02:15AM UTC
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AstralOptics on Chapter 2 Tue 26 Aug 2025 01:39PM UTC
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thicketsWhistle (Guest) on Chapter 3 Sun 31 Aug 2025 03:28AM UTC
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AstralOptics on Chapter 3 Sun 31 Aug 2025 10:36PM UTC
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thicketsWhistle (Guest) on Chapter 3 Mon 01 Sep 2025 01:27AM UTC
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AstralOptics on Chapter 3 Tue 02 Sep 2025 12:08PM UTC
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Midnight_Carnotaurus on Chapter 5 Wed 03 Sep 2025 04:02AM UTC
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AstralOptics on Chapter 5 Mon 08 Sep 2025 10:28PM UTC
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Midnight_Carnotaurus on Chapter 6 Wed 03 Sep 2025 04:15AM UTC
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SSvnny on Chapter 7 Sat 23 Aug 2025 07:51AM UTC
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SSvnny on Chapter 8 Sat 23 Aug 2025 09:50PM UTC
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AstralOptics on Chapter 8 Sun 24 Aug 2025 06:13PM UTC
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SSvnny on Chapter 9 Sun 24 Aug 2025 10:23PM UTC
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AstralOptics on Chapter 9 Sun 24 Aug 2025 10:55PM UTC
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SSvnny on Chapter 9 Sun 24 Aug 2025 11:04PM UTC
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AstralOptics on Chapter 9 Mon 25 Aug 2025 03:21PM UTC
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thicketsWhistle (Guest) on Chapter 9 Thu 04 Sep 2025 02:09AM UTC
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AstralOptics on Chapter 9 Mon 08 Sep 2025 10:26PM UTC
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SSvnny on Chapter 10 Thu 28 Aug 2025 06:31AM UTC
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AstralOptics on Chapter 10 Thu 28 Aug 2025 02:17PM UTC
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