Nothing More to Say

by unkat

Summary:

After saving the world and saving the world, Megatron gets the chance to speak with Optimus and Soundwave one last time before his trial, and he tries to make the most of it. He did not realize he still had more to lose.

“You have two breems.”

“I understand. Do not worry, I am not going anywhere.” Megatron replies to the guard that waits in the hall. It’s the first time he has been allowed outside of his cell since the Lost Light returned, and he walks towards the medicenter rooms, stalling outside while accompanied by a suspicious Fixit. He is still in cuffs, and was made to agree to the installation of an inhibitor chip before he was allowed to leave the jail he was being kept in.

Optimus Prime was brought to this facility, along with Soundwave and Starscream, all requiring immense work to reconstruct and repair them after their battle with Unicron. He feels the guilt of his past treatment of them weighing down his spark. He cannot erase what he had done, but maybe he could apologize.

Both Optimus Prime and Soundwave agreed to speak with him. Starscream declined.

“Any time now, Megatron.” Fixit grumbles. This was taking him away from his patients, who direly need his assistance. So he says.

Megatron grunts in agreement and follows Fixit as he knocks twice on Soundwave’s door and opens it a few seconds later.

The bed is empty. Megatron has enough medical training from Ratchet to identify that a spark monitor is missing from the room, but the room is not like the one on the Lost Light, nor the makeshift medbay with bare bones supplies from the Functionist universe.

“Huh?” Fixit goes into the room fully, and looks around, puzzled as if Soundwave maybe was hiding in a corner somewhere. Clearly not.

Fixit strides out, and Megatron follows him to the next door over. “Hey, Optimus, have you seen–”

He does not knock, and Megatron feels his spark squeeze as they get their first glimpse into the room. He hears the telltale shnick of a mask engaging from Soundwave and sees Optimus quickly tucking his hand to his side to look at the door. As if Megatron and Fixit didn’t just see Soundwave leaning on Optimus’ bed, helm cupped tenderly in the palm of their previous worst enemy. Megatron feels alone, seeing his past third’s covered face, guarded, that was just exposed to Optimus, whose own expression is of concealed surprise rather than the soft and tired gaze he had only moments ago. He can no longer feel the comfort in Soundwave’s EM field that had been lazily pulsing with affection, left wide open and raw before Megatron arrived, now buzzing with uncertainty. They have both switched to the people he remembered at war; sitting straighter, fists curled. Soldiers.

Optimus’ mouth is tight, and eyes wide. “Megatron, Fixit–we were not expecting to see you for a few more cycles. Our apologies.”

Ours, he said, like he could speak for them both. Soundwave does not stop him, in fact gives a stiff nod in agreement.

“I do not mean to interrupt anything.” Megatron cannot think of anything better to say. The missing spark monitor from the other room is sitting on wheels next to Soundwave, wires disappearing into the crevices of his armor. What were they doing? Had Soundwave and Optimus–

“Megatron: Need not be concerned with interruption. You are here now.” Soundwave tilts his head towards Megatron.

“I only have a few megacycles before my trial.” Megatron says stiffly, feeling the need to explain why he is here on such short notice, and not leaving them their moment.

Optimus leans forward to speak, winces and abandons the movement, dropping back to the berth. Soundwave brushes his hand gently as he does, quick and nearly ignorable. Megatron feels his tanks churn, remembering when he was the one Soundwave tended to and comforted when he was injured. Optimus catches his breath.

“That soon? I assumed you would have at least a couple decacycles. I will not be able to be present if it is happening today.”

Megatron exvents a huff, “It certainly is is a perk of the timing. You are welcome to discuss with Prowl, however I imagine the Galactic Council will not want to reschedule.”

Optimus frowns. “I imagine not.”

Soundwave speaks up. “What do you want, Megatron?”

Straight to the point. Megatron stands more upright, “I came to apologize, to you both, for my previous actions. I assumed it would be separate conversations.”

Optimus looks to Soundwave, as if he was waiting for him to decide what comes next. Soundwave carefully pulls himself to his feet, holding onto the mobile spark monitor for support, and hobbles towards the door. Optimus looks at him with the same concern that he would give one of his own.

Megatron knows he does not deserve it, but a suffocating part of him wants to get between them, be reassured by Soundwave that he was welcome like he used to be, hear from Optimus that everything he had done to repent meant something. That he was still important and welcome in their lives, even after everything. Even when they have both moved on. Are they happier without him?

They cannot return to how things were before, but maybe–

He steps back and nods to Optimus as he holds out his elbow for Soundwave to lean on for support. Soundwave turns to observe the motion, and puts a hand on Fixit’s outstretched arm instead. Megatron knows he deserves how it makes his engine rumble in his rejection. He watches them leave, instead of accompanying them. His cowardice makes it easier to turn and face the Prime who sits blank-faced before him instead.

It feels wrong to sit in the chair crowded to his side, only recently left vacant by its previous occupant, so he stands like a prisoner before a judge. Cuffs and all. The guard even wanders to stand by the doorway, unwilling to leave him without a chaperone.

“Optimus.”

“Megatron.” Optimus inclines his head towards him. He looks burnt out, his joints crackling quietly as he moves. “I’ve heard you and the crew of the Lost Light have returned, unsuccessful in your quest.”

Megatron bows his head, “Yes, and it is possible that there was never going to be success. That does not mean the time was not spent on worthwhile ventures.”

“But you have returned, to face the consequences of your prior trial.”

“Yes. I vowed to you that I would.”

“That you did.” Optimus chuckles tiredly, almost carefree, after his stint with Unicron. “I’d like to hear about your adventures, one day.”

“You should have Rodimus send you the captain’s logs. Actually, ask Magnus.”

An upward twitch of the derma. “I will keep it in mind.”

Optimus’ vents are labored though he does not complain that this discussion is a lot for him.

Megatron focuses on what I really needed to say. “I wanted to apologize, for how the revolution became. I’ve learned now. I had a chance to try again, and this time it was better.” He bows his head.

“Try again? How so?”

“In a different universe, one where there was no Decepticon uprising. I never used a weapon against another. Change came from the people, not from my violence. Thank you, for the opportunity to make the change I should have four million years ago.”

Optimus lets his head loll back. Megatron watches his neck cables gleam in the harsh medical light. “I had faith that letting you get away with your little legal scheme would work out.”

Megatron smiles, “I am grateful for your vote of confidence, and dedication to governmental transparency.” He twists his wrists, “You have been working with Soundwave?”

“Yes. We have formed a professional partnership.”

“Professional?” Megatron lets some of the teasing tone back into his voice.

Optimus’ optical ridge rises. “Mmm, yes. Professional. Our friendship has grown from it.”

“You have an interesting way of treating your professional friends.” This time it is more bitter, envy creeping into his field. He doesn’t really know who he is jealous of, Optimus for making the move he should have made millions of years ago, or Soundwave for becoming so important to the mech he had been obsessed with for those millions of years.

Optimus watches Megatron stew for a few kliks. “You can speak with him about it, if you have any concerns.”

It’s a dare, and a misinterpretation of Megatron’s inquiry. “No, he is a good soldier and friend. I am glad you are looking out for each other, though I imagine encouraging you to be less self-sacrificing will not help keep you both from doing something stupid.”

“Too late, but I will bear it in mind for the future.” Optimus has a sly look in his eye. “You can tell him the same thing, though I think you two have more to discuss with little time.”

“I know.” Megatron frowns.

“He will listen.” Optimus settles flat onto the berth. “And, Megatron? I forgive you. As your friend.”

At one time, Megatron would have called him a fool for such willing acceptance of remorse at face value. Now it feels like a weight from the yoke he must carry of his past has been lifted. He can’t help but feel sorrow for losing the opportunity to know this Optimus, the Optimus in peacetime. The one who could be his companion again.

“Your forgiveness means more to me than you know, even if it is only as a friend. Take care of our people for me, Optimus.”

“I’ll do my best, Megatron.” He offlines his optics. “You spend all your time thinking what it will take to find peace, but when you have it, you don’t know what to do with yourself. Luckily the governance of Cybertron is not up to me.”

“Luckily.” Megatron laughs. “They are lucky you are here. Both of you.”

Optimus chuckles along with him, falling silent to look at Megatron thoughtfully. “You need to talk to him, you know. Soundwave.”

“Yes, I do.” Megatron nods, “Thank you for speaking with me.”

Optimus waves him off. “I am glad you came. Now go, do what you must before it’s too late.”

Megatron nods and turns to leave. “Goodbye, Optimus. I wish things had ended differently.”

“Agreed. Goodbye, Megatron.”

 

Soundwave sits with his feet hanging off the edge of the berth, ignoring Fixit’s hovering next to his legs to help lift him up onto the bed completely, and looks at Megatron when he comes in. His EM field is still loudly pressing against Megatron’s own, out of character, out of control. He wants to ask what happened with Unicron, but they don’t have the time.

Fixit hovers at the doorway, and Soundwave stares at him until he throws up his hands, says “fine!” in exasperation, and steps outside the room, but takes the post of chaperone so the guard can once again hover at the periphery. Megatron takes a seat in the chair next to the bed, almost facing his old subordinate.

Soundwave and Megatron make eye contact.

Megatron sucks air into his vents. “Soundwave. I need to apologize for how things ended between us.”

Soundwave hunches his shoulders and his fans kick up. “You left without any of the consequences. Without warning.”

You left all of us, left me, alone after everything. You left me to clean up your mess.

Megatron takes the quiet accusation. “I am sorry. I should have realized how that would have made you feel.”

“Yes. You should have.” Soundwave stares past Megatron. “And now you wish for forgiveness, here at the end of your time.” And that twists the blade in his plating.

“I can only explain myself, and apologize.” Megatron struggles not to be defensive, something about their reunion making him feel dangerously like falling back to the way they used to be, expecting Soundwave’s trust and loyalty rather than needing to work to regain it.

It would be easy, if Soundwave let him.

If he let himself.

“I understand that forgiveness must be earned, not taken. But I do not know if there will be another chance for me to speak to you and request it. But I am sorry. For all of the years I led you, led the cause, down a path that was meant for freedom. That I would demand obedience with violence, push ahead without considering the needs of you and the Decepticons, destroy Cybertron and other worlds in my recklessness, then leave you all behind.”

He reaches out, to touch and hold the hand of the mech he lost, hungry for communion in a way that he had not felt with Optimus. The cuffs make him abort the motion. He had forgotten, for a moment, that he was bound and could not gracefully request this contact. Suddenly, the thought of not touching Soundwave is almost unbearable. That he might leave for his death without a gentle touch from his dear friend of millions of years.

He had already accepted that this was the end, it is the idea of never feeling the comfort and affection again that frightens him. He can’t help but chuckle at himself. Truly nothing makes sense when one is facing the end of their existence.

Soundwave stumbles off the bed, swaying, and Megatron stands hurriedly to support him. Soundwave digs his digits into the top of Megatron’s chestplate, too short to reach higher, gripping him. Megatron steels his frame like an anchor. “I’m here.”

This close, it is impossible to ignore the intensity of their EM fields, the anger and loathing and sorrow pressing into Megatron, and the guilt, affection, and melancholy that answers.

Megatron’s vents greedily suck in the warm air expelled from Soundwave’s own. When did he become so needy?

Soundwave pulls down on Megatron, and he obeys the unspoken request, bending his knees until they are at eye level. Those grasping fingertips ease from between his plating, and he wraps his arms around Megatron’s neck.

“I do not forgive you.”

He leans into Megatron, using him to support his weight. Megatron presses their helms together. The anger, the loathing, the sorrow– it’s all because what they had meant something. Because it still means something. Something settles in his spark.

“That is alright. I am sorry anyways.”

“Megatron: is a fool.”

“I’ve been that for some time, my dear friend.” Megatron murmurs. He wishes he could return the affection. “You deserved better. I’m glad you have found something new.”

“I do not want you to die.” The words are quiet against Megatron’s audials.

Megatron gives in and presses his lips to the side of Soundwave’s helm. “It’s more than I deserve.”

“Megatron’s assessment: does not change Soundwave’s feelings.”

“I am not trying to change your feelings.”

They stand in silence for a few painful nanokliks. The guard asks Fixit if they’re done, that Megatron’s time is up. They need to leave. Just one moment more.

“I failed you. I failed Ravage. I failed Cybertron.”

Soundwave squeezes, his engines skipping. “Ravage, what happened?”

“The DJD.” Megatron replied. “I killed them.”

Soundwave leans heavily into him, and Megatron feels what had been steadily aching in Soundwave’s field below the anger: grief, loss. The sting of losing his oldest friend anew, and anticipating the loss of his leader, both at once. “Good.”

Megatron’s field answers his grief with his own, held tight between them: remembering Ravage’s last words, mourning whatever time with his old friend he will never have again.

Soundwave is shaking and Megatron tilts his head back to make eye contact. “You need to lay down. Back up, slowly, I’m with you.”

They shuffle back the few steps before Soundwave eases down onto the berth, still holding onto an awkwardly bent-over Megatron. It doesn’t matter.

Their time has run out with so much left unsaid.

“Hey, Megatron–time is up. You have to return to your cell.”

Soundwave digs in his shaking fingers and forcibly relaxes, joints creaking as they are loosened from around Megatron’s shoulders. Megatron wishes his hands were free to help. Soundwave knows.

“Goodbye, Soundwave.”

“…Goodbye.”

For the first time since they landed, Megatron wishes this weren’t the end, as he walks out of the ward.

Notes:

There is a happy ending here somewhere. Soundwave's EM modulation is fried from channeling one bajillion ghosts through his brain, thus why he's projecting so much.

 

Thank you for reading! Feel free to say hi here or on tumblr at unkat. I have enjoyed seeing the fandom's lovely work, it has and always will be very inspiring. i think there is probably a little continuity soup going on here, i am still reading the comics and what i have finished has not always been in order, so if there are some details I missed-- Oops, my bad!