Author's Notes- Hi, hope you all had a lovely Christmas :-). This fic is co-written with Iwanita and is about Megatron enticing Ratchet over to the Decepticons after the season finale.
Warnings- Slash for future chapters, possible character death. Likely to be censored on this site. Spoilers.
Bold- Comm link/field feelings.
Italics- Thoughts/memories/link speak.
Pairings- Multiple. Starscream/Megatron.
Disclaimer- I do not own Transformers or its characters.
Verse- Prime.
Units of Time: Astrosecond- 1 second, Klik- 1 minute, Cycle- 1 hour, Orn- 1 day, Decacycle- 1 week, Meta-cycle- 1 month, Solar cycle- 1 year, Vorn- 1 million years.
We hope you all enjoy it.
For the Greater Good
Chapter One- Lost and Found
Megatron stepped out of the swirling portal, sensors already scanning for his target. After seeing the salvaged surveillance recordings he couldn't resist coming for this particular Autobot himself. To try and steal Optimus's closest friend from him, especially with the sense of betrayal still fresh, would be exquisite.
Of course the medic would not simply come out to speak with him; he would have to provide a little… incentive. Walking along idly, wondering if Ratchet had sensed him yet or not, the Warlord's optics examined the area. As he explored- noting the heavily populated town nearby which, at its heart, bore a huge building, new, sterilised and blazing white. A quick conversation over the internal comms with Soundwave informed Megatron it was a hospital. A home for sick fleshlings and, used correctly, the perfect incentive; Megatron's engines rumbled in satisfaction at the realisation- he remembered the satiated Seeker he'd left dozing in his berth.
Starscream had been almost painfully loyal and strangely content of recent. What was that the humans said? Absence makes the spark grow fonder…?
The Decepticon Lord paused, an Autobot signal popping up on his scanners, looking down on the town below him. The buildings were bordered on all sides by steep hills, in the woodland on one Megatron now stood; free to observe without being seen. Latching on to the signal, the tyrant scanned the cobbled streets and sure enough an ambulance was dawdling through the town. The Warlord's ruby orbs followed its movements knowing that, even without his radar, he would have been able to tell the vehicle wasn't Earthen in nature, the tell-tale signs that would be unseen by an human stood out clearly to him.
Opening a long-range, blanket comm frequency, he sent a mass ping knowing that one would reach its mark. Megatron smirked when the CMO stalled, the grinding of gears which followed echoed around the valley as Ratchet tried to compose himself. As the Warlord watched, Ratchet completed a circuit of the buildings on the road furthest out from the centre, clearly searching for him. For a klik the tyrant enjoyed the sight of an Autobot trapped like an organic in a cage, before somewhat putting Ratchet out of his misery.
Transmitting his coordinates, he gave the medic fair and honest warning, 'come to me Ratchet or I will summon the Nemesis and order Soundwave to destroy the… hospital.' The word felt foreign, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth as he remembered the few images his third had shown him of the place; suffering humans clinging needlessly to life, the foolish, baffling creatures causing themselves nothing but agony.
No hesitation followed, Megatron had to give the Autobot credit. Ratchet selected the most direct route to the Decepticon and followed it, just barely obeying the human laws of the road when suddenly his siren flicked on, blaring out across the town and surrounding hills as the CMO barrelled along the roads.
Aimless. That's how the Autobot medic felt while he wandered around the streets of the first town he had been able to find after... well, Ratchet didn't know very well how to describe it, but 'after everything went to the Pit' seemed like a close enough description. He had nowhere to go, or nowhere to go back to. He was without purpose or motives, targets or objectives.
But above all, he felt alone. Completely and utterly alone in an alien planet teeming with indigenous life-forms who were oblivious to his presence and with no one to talk with. The rest of his team members were out of comm. reach unless he could gain access to specialized equipment, and he couldn't even check on their location. Ratchet had never been a very social mech, but now the uncertainty was killing him. Were they alright? Had Optimus managed to get out of the base in time? He had no way of knowing.
He was sinking in the feeling of hopelessness when a wide-range ping returned him back to his senses. A brief relief washed over him, thinking it would be the type of signal a Cybertronian would use when searching for missing mechs. But his hopes shattered again as he confirmed the identity of the mech that had sent that ping.
Megatron.
He tried, for a nanoclick to come up with a plan, a strategy to avoid a confrontation with the Warlord, but when he received the order and the threat, Ratchet knew there was no way of getting out of his predicament unharmed. It seemed that Megatron had taken a liking to using hostages to force his enemies to comply with his petitions.
Dread feasting upon his very spark, Ratchet made his way towards the outskirts of the city, where the Decepticon Leader had requested to meet with him.
Megatron saw the anxiety thrumming through the Autobot's alt mode, spark relishing it. However, it would not do to terrify the other mech, not when he could be so useful. Keeping a relaxed stance, he waited for Ratchet to meet him.
Ratchet quickly made out the Decepticon Leader in the distance, near the edge of the woodlands. His pistons and gears tensed as the warlord moved his helm slightly, his ruby glare fixating onto him and sending a shiver through his frame. He half expected his enemy to open fire upon him on sight, but to his surprise - or worry - he did not. A few seconds passed, and Ratchet realized he had frozen in place. Megatron had not made a hostile movement yet, and Ratchet decided it was an indirect way of telling him to approach. Very reluctantly, he complied.
Lip components quirking at Ratchet's hesitation then nervous approach, Megatron's engines rumbled quietly in amusement. 'Autobot,' he greeted amicably, tilting his helm slightly in greeting, orbs darkening almost imperceptibly.
Ratchet's systems screamed in alarm, self-preservation instincts blaring warnings. Megatron was just not to be approached. He was a dangerous enough mech - in fact, only Optimus was capable of fighting him head on - but a friendly Megatron was never good news. He was definitely up to something. 'What do you want, Megatron?' He asked, stopping at a respectful distance and transforming back to mech mode, adopting a combat-ready stance, though he knew very well that if Megatron wanted him dead, there was no way he could stop him.
Megatron didn't immediately answer, stepping towards Ratchet and giving him a discreet appraising look. The CMO, in moments, had proved himself more respectful of Megatron than many of his officers, past and present. Useful indeed. 'To offer my condolences,' the tyrant eventually spoke, wind whistling around them both and whipping up the leaves at their pedes.
Ratchet's systems stalled for a second as he processed the tyrant's words and double-checked his audios. Had Megatron just offered him his condolences? For whom? His spark sank once more into an abyss of dread as a single conclusion popped into the front of his processors. Megatron had managed to hunt down and extinguish someone of his team... probably more than one... Maybe he was the last one that was left to kill? His servos clenched into fists as he uttered a single, broken word, unable to finish the question. 'Who...?'
'Your friends are still in hiding Ratchet, I offer my sympathy for the loss of our home.' After all, the CMO was blameless in this or as innocent as one of his kind could be now. 'I doubt you were given the same courtesy by the humans were you? But how could they understand what we have had stripped from us? And, even if they did understand, they would not care as they are selfish creatures, much less allow you to grieve in peace and free from guilt.' Megatron paused to ascertain Ratchet's reaction.
Ratchet felt a distant echo of relief at the knowledge that his team was still safe from the wrath of the warlord, but it was short lived as he was reminded of the loss of their home planet. A dead husk that would never see life again. 'They may be selfish, but humans did nothing to destroy Cybertron. We did it by ourselves in our endless war.' He said, trying to honour Optimus' words.
Megatron leaned forward, squeezing Ratchet's shoulder lightly before pulling away. 'But it could have been restored, don't you see Ratchet? Did Optimus not tell you what truly happened...?' His engines purred in sympathy, 'I could show you.'
The CMO forced himself not to flinch away from the bigger mech as he approached to squeeze his shoulder in a... reassuring gesture? He shook his helm to focus on the matter at hand 'He... did not have time... we were kind of busy fighting for our lives if I recall it properly.' He frowned. 'And do you really expect me to believe your words?'
'I have no need of words Ratchet,' Megatron smiled, 'I intend to show you.' The Warlord called up a hologram, starting with Smokescreen's 'practical joke' upon the Eradicons. He had doctored it before coming of course, removing the worst actions of his fellows.
Ratchet cringed at the mass-extermination of eradicons. They were enemies, yes, but he had never been very fond of the idea of using the spark-extractor. It was just... too unfair. That artefact should have been destroyed when it was discovered so that no one had the opportunity to use it.
Megatron's optics flickered knowingly as the recording progressed past that point, allowing Ratchet to see his frustration on losing the keys, counting on the medic to understand.
'Damn it all to the Pit and back', Ratchet thought, grieving. If they had been able to put aside the politics, Cybertron would have been revived. For spark's sake, they both wanted the same!
As a building reformed in the hologram, Megatron paused the image, knowing this would twist the knife, 'you see Ratchet, it would have worked.'
The CMO merely clenched his denta, motioning for Megatron to continue. The tyrant nodded and the pictures began to move once more. The kid's protests passed by in an almost blur, the image refocusing on Optimus wrestling with the decision of which planet to save. The Prime leapt into action and what followed was exactly as Megatron himself saw it. He and his mechs had tried to defend the Lock and, through it, their home only to be batted aside and see their adversary destroy... hope.
Ratchet staggered... it was one thing Optimus telling him that he had destroyed the Omega Lock... but to actually see him do it... was hard to accept. And it hurt. It hurt in his spark to know for certain that their planet would never be the same again.
Megatron's servo shot out to steady him, the hologram abruptly ending, pulling the Autobot under his arm. This time Ratchet didn't even felt the urge to flinch. To be honest, he didn't feel anything. He felt numb and empty, with a distant shadow of betrayal lingering in the back of his processors. 'You cannot fool me...' He tried to argue back, though his voice was weak and hesitant. 'You threatened to kill the children... that much I was told.'
'Only if I wasn't given the keys,' Megatron's voice purred lowly into the CMO's audios, 'and you saw for yourself they were unharmed.' His arm pulled Ratchet in closer, encouraging the medic to lay his helm on the tyrant's chassis.
Ratchet remained unresponsive for a few seconds. 'I... I don't believe you... you would have killed them anyway...' He tried to pull away, shaking his helm in denial.
Megatron caught Ratchet's chin, pulling the Autobot back to him, 'I give you my word I would not have done. I have not harmed the human's hospital have I? You came and I spared them as I said I would.'
'What do you really want, Megatron?' Ratchet asked, failing to keep the grief out of his voice as he met the optics of his enemy. He knew deep down that the warlord had not met him to merely give him his condolences but, had he wanted to kill him, he would have done so several minutes ago.
'Why did you come to me?' Megatron asked, and though he was ignoring Ratchet's question for the moment, his tone was soothing, 'when you knew I might have killed you?'
'You threatened to destroy that hospital... If sacrificing myself meant that I saved the hundreds of lives in that building, then so be it.' Ratchet replied. 'Because it was the right thing to do... for the greater good.'
Megatron caught Ratchet's optics, 'the good of the many outweigh that of the few, does it not Ratchet?'
Ratchet nodded without a second thought.
'Then I ask you,' Megatron leaned his forehelm against Ratchet's, 'for our entire planet and our race- thousands upon thousands scattered across the galaxy- would a handful of lives been too many?'
Megatron's question pierced through Ratchet's spark like the sharpest of blades. There was no possible way of replying to that cruel question without betraying someone. If he replied no, he would be denying his own philosophy of self-sacrifice preached by his own faction. If he said yes, then he would be condemning the lives of the few people he had met on this planet. But what really terrified Ratchet was not the question in itself. It was the answer. The answer that shone clearly in his processors. It didn't matter what he replied. What mattered was that, in the confidentiality of his own mind, he knew very well what he would have replied. He would have chosen the greater good.
Megatron watched the conflict on Ratchet's faceplates with a dark pleasure that he carefully hid from his own features. 'You disagree with your Prime's actions?' He asked; voice a low purr, sending a shiver down the medic's back strut.
'I...' He hesitated, the words refusing to come out of his vocalizer, but it was enough for Megatron to deduce his answer.
Just for a moment Ratchet reminded Megatron of Starscream when called out on a betrayal only, for the medic, the guilt was genuine. 'He betrayed you,' the tyrant almost whispered.
'Or I betrayed him...' Ratchet thought bitterly, but didn't voice his opinion, his processors too engrossed with conflicting thoughts.
'He destroyed our world,' Megatron stroked Ratchet's back soothingly, 'in the face of that I would say you would be completely justified to be angry.'
Ratchet clenched his servos. Megatron was right. The least he could do was to get angry, but he couldn't. He was still too stunned by the revelations to get angry. Maybe later. Probably later.
'You're allowed to grieve Ratchet,' Megatron murmured into the medic's audios.
'No, I'm not.' The CMO replied, shaking his helm, his voice distant. 'All I'm allowed to do is to move on while the losses build up on my shoulders. Pretending there is something that it's still worth fighting for... worth dying for...' He said bitterly.
Drawing Ratchet closer, Megatron warmed his frame to encourage the medic to seek comfort from him. 'You place too much on your spark,' the Warlord comforted, 'take blame which is not yours. Do you think your deceased comrades would deny you the right to grieve? Wouldn't they want you to be free of such a burden?'
'I... I guess so...' Ratchet finally gave up trying to deny Megatron's words, accepting the truth in them, despite how much it hurt. Almost unconsciously, he leaned close to Megatron, his own body betraying him too after all that time spent utterly alone and with no one to share his pain.
The Warlord welcomed the Autobot to him, arms tightening around the smaller form. 'Starscream did so,' he confided quietly, 'my little Seeker was devastated and I am a fair leader. He accepted the comfort I offered.' Not quite a lie but not the truth either.
Ratchet blinked slowly, suddenly aware of Megatron's closeness. 'Starscream? After all he tried to do to you? You accepted him back?'
'He is mine,' Megatron stated simply, 'he just doesn't always acknowledge it.' He barely kept the smirk out of his voice; Starscream's valve would remind his second of his reclaiming for some time to come yet.
Ratchet refrained from commenting Megatron's possessiveness of his Second. What other couples did was no concern of his. That made him think about Optimus. The Prime had always meant so much to him. Ratchet had made so many sacrifices on his behalf... and now he was alone, all but rejected and cast aside; while the very Slagmaker himself accepted back his prodigal sons...
Feeling Ratchet's frame slump and the barest touch of despair in the medic's expertly controlled field, Megatron decided to brush his own energy against the Autobot's, a steady pulse of reassurance embedded in the brief stroke.
Ratchet's field replied with honest gratitude before he could stop himself and he gave a hesitant step backwards, his mistrust of the Decepticon Leader creeping back. This was not right. It was so wrong on so many levels...
Megatron wrapped his field around Ratchet's, not suffocating but cushioning. No harm.
'Stop... please, stop...' He said, his voice broken and barely above a whisper. 'Stop playing with me...' He looked down, optics shuttering, hiding his pain. 'What do you want from me? Why did you seek me out?'
Megatron's field remained where it was but did not intrude further. 'You intrigue me,' the tyrant crooned, stepping forward, 'and I wished to speak with you, to give you and you alone fair warning. All Autobots, especially those on Earth are viewed as traitors to Cybertron. It is no longer just my Decepticons hunting you now Ratchet, Prime is wanted for war crimes. As Starscream's continued existence proves, I do not like seeing curious creatures destroyed.'
'And why are you not trying to capture me right now?' Ratchet was confused. If Autobots were wanted, what was Megatron waiting? Why delay the inevitable?
'To take you back as an Autobot would mean your destruction. An unnecessary waste of a skilled mech.' Megatron's field turned lightly coaxing, 'there is nothing to achieve in your circumstances Ratchet and I wish to make you useful again.'
Ratchet recoiled another step, shying away from Megatron's tempting field.. 'To try to make me join your ranks? That's why you wanted to speak with me?' He said, terrified by the idea.
Megatron held up a servo, 'not necessarily. Medics are allowed to treat anyone, regardless of faction, are they not? I want you to come with me as a neutral to treat my mechs. You will be exonerated then on both sides.' His field chased Ratchet's, radiating calm on the medic's anxious field.
'But... but what about the others...?' Even assuming hypothetically that he agreed to Megatron's offer, he would never help Megatron to hunt down the mechs that had been at his side since the beginning of the War.
'You would be simply a medic for my mechs,' Megatron eased forward slightly, 'you would not be expected to fight, as Orion wasn't when he was with me.'
Ratchet's spark hurt with grief and despair at the mere thought of joining Megatron's side. But what else was he supposed to do? It was either that or deactivation. And maybe, just maybe, while in the Nemesis he could try to change Megatron's way of thinking. The Decepticon Leader seemed to be capable of a certain degree of compassion. Could that trait be improved somehow? It was worth a try at least.
Megatron, through the pain, sensed the change of thinking in Ratchet's field. Leaning forward, he touched a servo to the medic's faceplate and stroked it lightly, 'do you accept my offer Ratchet?' His field bathed the medic's in warmth and a sense of security.
'I...' Ratchet's shoulders slumped, and his field transmitted defeat and resignation. '...I accept your offer.' He finally sighed, his words hurting him as he pronounced them.
Megatron's servo travelled down to the medic's shoulder, squeezing it lightly. 'Very well,' he purred; a distinct smirk in his tone as Ratchet glanced away from him.
Moments later a groundbridge opened up behind them, ready to transport them to the Warlord's new fortress. Megatron guided Ratchet through and it closed just as the sun dipped down on the horizon, sending a bolt of pure red across the sky.
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