Author: I posted the first part of this on LJ and there were demands for me to continue, so it grew into this beginnings of a monster. Megatron and Sam are not paired together. I'm sorry if it seems a little rushed...
Disclaimer: If I owned Transformers I wouldn't be having the money trouble I do.
---
"Well…this is awkward…" Sam said slowly.
"YOU DON'T SAY SQUISHY!? YOU DON'T SAY!?" Megatron snarled.
"Hey! Who are you calling squishy?!" Sam said indignantly, crossing his arms.
Megatron shook his head sharply, a growl bubbling out of his throat. "This is absurd," he groused, looking over at Sam.
"Hey! It's totally not my fault!" the youth protested.
"How is it not? You pushed the button that plainly said in your own Earth language 'Do Not Push'!" Megatron snapped.
"How the hell was I supposed to know it was going to do...do...this?! Why were you developing it anyway?!"
"I wasn't," Megatron drawled. "This is, may I remind you, a human base."
"An abandoned human base."
"Perhaps for good reason," Megatron growled, "if they had such ridiculous projects as that."
Sam put his head in his hands and winced at the unfamiliar structure. "Dude, I can't believe..."
Megatron snorted and shook his head. "Boy," he said sharply, getting Sam's attention. "You and I are going to have to work out something—now—because if we don't you are going to end up slagged and I will be stuck like this. And as neither of us desire that..."
"So, what are you suggesting? It's not like I trust you or anything."
"And I happen to hate you, insect," Megatron replied bitingly. "But I am not remaining like this."
Both heads snapped up and around when they heard the sound of heavy, running footsteps and gunfire.
"Decide now, virus—will you work with me to remedy this or not?" Megatron asked quickly.
Sam thought and sighed. "Fine. We'll work together. But only because there's no other option."
There was the briefest of hesitations before Sam knelt and extended an unfamiliar hand to Megatron, who stepped deftly into the palm.
"Hurry!" The Decepticon leader hissed, and Sam figured out quickly how to run, pounding—almost literally—down the hallway.
This sucks. This sucks this sucks this SUCKS, he thought heatedly. "Does your alt form have a cockpit or anything?"
Megatron shrugged. "There was never really any need, but one does exist."
"Flying will get us away faster." There was a loud crash and Sam felt dread slowly settle into him. "Much faster."
They ran out into an large hangar, and Sam set Megatron down. "How do I do this?!" Sam nearly yelled, slightly panicked.
"It's instinctual. Just...try."
What the hell does he mean instinctual?! How can turning into a ginormous jet-tank thingy be instinctual?!
Sam was surprised when something banged into a sensitive area, provoking a growl of annoyance from him.
"Hurry up and take off! You don't want them wasting us, do you?" Megatron snarled.
"What do you mean?"
"You did it, now go!"
Sam was astonished to find that, yes, he had managed to transform into his new-found alternate form. He mutely did as told, and soon enough he felt what it meant to truly fly. The wind whistled around his form, flowing into and out of crevices made to maximize the efficiency of flight, making drag nearly a passing thought. He pushed the speed he could find and only another sharp smack on a sensitive area made him slow down.
"Don't forget that your unfortunate passenger is not meant for much more than mach 2, worm," he heard Megatron say tightly.
Sam slowed down to a little over mach 1 and glided on the air currents near the tropopause, the scenery passing quickly beneath them.
"Where exactly are we headed?" Megatron drawled, flicking another area—this time it made Sam squirm because it tickled.
"Rockies!" Sam nearly squeaked. "It'll be harder to find us in a place where most cars and stuff have a hard time driving."
"Huh. Perhaps you are not quite as stupid as I have always thought."
"Assumptions make an ass out of you and me," Sam cheekily quoted, which earned him another swat in an unfortunately tender area. "WILL YOU STOP THAT?!" he snarled, a way of expressing that was eerily easy to do in his new form.
"Only when you stop needing it," Megatron replied smoothly.
Sam grumbled uncomplimentary things about his passenger, who merely laughed at him.
Eventually, Sam spotted an uninhabited and probably inaccessible-except-by-air valley, changing course to it. He landed gracelessly, earning a snicker from Megatron, who got out once they had finished their semi-crash landing.
With a grumble and a thought, Sam found himself back in bi-pedal form, staring down at his former body.
God, it's so weird being so damn big and knowing that there's an evil alien consciousness directing my body. I am never going to get used to looking down and seeing me.
There was a long silence before Sam broke it, speaking in a voice that was hateful to him: "So. What now?"
"Now, my dear child," Megatron said in his voice—it was his, Sam's, not Megatron's—with a small smirk flickering across the face of the body he should be in, "we figure out how to reverse the effects of that idiotic machine."
–
"No."
"God damn it, Megs! We have to be able to travel through residential areas! I can't keep your usual form and do that!"
"WHAT DID YOU CALL ME, SCUM?!" Megatron snarled, fury vibrating in every line of his now-human body.
Sam was almost scared. But the fact that he was orders of magnitude taller than Megatron now was balm to his nerves.
"Megs. Why not? You call me all kinds of derogatory nicknames."
"Because you deserve them," Megatron sneered. "And anyway, I'm of comparable size with Optimus, and you know what kind of ridiculous alternate form he has chosen. Those are some of the largest vehicles on the road, and I refuse to take the same form as Prime."
Sam agreed on that point—he didn't want Megatron to have the same kind of form as Optimus. It would feel...wrong. Still, the did have to get into residential areas...
"You have access to this world's wireless internet—start looking things up. If you choose a mini-van, I will make sure you get a tattoo or piercing somewhere awkward on this body," Megatron warned.
"How would you know about those?" Sam asked, frowning.
Megatron shrugged and tapped his temple, "There is some residual knowledge. That is why we're both able to move naturally. Imagine if we were starting from nothing."
Sam winced. "We wouldn't have gotten away, that's for sure."
Megatron nodded sharply. "Do you know anything about that base?"
Sam shook his head. "Nope. You?"
Megatron sighed. "No. So, if the eventual goal is to get back to our respective bodies, then we find out about that base, what that thing was, why it was built, and who built it. From there, we question the builder and find out how to reverse its effect."
"You make it sound so easy," Sam groaned.
"Worm, you are now in the body of a robotic organism that has technology trillions of years beyond what your puny government has managed to come across—hack the damn system," Megatron growled.
"How do I do that?" Sam snapped back.
"Primus! Of all the creatures in the entire universe..."
Lord Megatron?
Sam yelped and looked around quickly. Where had it come from?
Lord Megatron, can you answer?
"Are you hearing something?" Megatron asked sharply, pulling Sam's attention back to him. Sam nodded mutely.
Megatron sighed. "You're being contacted over a Decepticon frequency. Don't worry—they won't be able to track your signal nor will you be able to respond to their hails. Although I do want to know what they say, just so we can keep up with what my minions are plotting."
"How'd you do—oh. You hitting me wasn't just to let out your aggravation, huh?"
Megatron smirked. "perhaps."
Sam snorted and shook his head. "Whatever. Look, Megs. If I'm going to have to change this to blend in, we'll have to at least change my—your—appearance so that no-one'll be able to recognize you at a glance. Because you can damn well bet people will be on the look-out."
"So, what do you suggest? Certainly a change in clothes. What else?"
"Get some hair dye. Perhaps cosmetic contacts or glasses. NO tattoos or piercings or I will let this body accumulate some rust."
Megatron sneered. "Very well. How do you suggest we get these?"
"I have enough money in my wallet, I think," Sam said with a slight shrug.
Megatron checked the jean's back pocket and came away with the small object. He opened it and flipped through it. "$50. What were you planning on buying?"
"Hey, a guy gets hungry!"
Megatron snorted but his stomach audibly growled the moment after Sam made that comment, which made Sam snicker. "First, though, we find a new alt form for you. Me. Whatever."
"For now, I'll settle for something aerial to get us out of here. Then, when we get over human settlement, we can decide on another form."
The two distantly heard the sound of a helicopter and Sam tensed before finding some crevise he could hide in that was against the dull stone, hoping that the sun wouldn't shine suspiciously against the metal of his body. Megatron had also ducked away, not wanting to be spotted either, although probably for different reasons than Sam.
The helicopter eventually came into view and Sam found himself almost single-mindedly focused on it. It was a search-and-rescue helicopter. Perhaps they were looking for him. Perhaps they were just making a sweep to make sure that no-one was stranded anywhere.
It would require a bit of shifting and manipulation, and he would be slightly more massive than a normal helicopter, but it should work. It was aerial, it wouldn't be bothered because it was government aircraft, and seeing a helicopter passing over a residential area wasn't half so suspicious as having Megatron's base alt form doing so.
It came close enough that Sam, when stretching his senors (not that he had any idea how he was doing that, he just was), was able to take in all the details of the helicopter—all of them, which was terrifying and fascinating to the human consciousness stuck in Megatron's body. Sam waited until he was sure the copter was out of range before letting the alterations that were waiting impatiently for him to let them just happen take place. He felt his entire body rearrange itself, which was the strangest sensation ever.
He heard an annoyed squawk from Megatron, and ended up smirking at the Decepticon-turned-human who was glaring at him with hands planted firmly on his hips. "Well, I guess it could be worse," the Decepticon leader drawled, looking Sam over.
Sam gave him a vicious grin—still ridiculously easy to do, even with the change in appearance. "Oh, yeah. Think bright pink minivan."
Megatron obviously bristled which caused Sam to laugh. Sam's expression of mirth obviously put a damper on Megatron's temper. "Butterflies—sparkly ones—all down your spine," Megatron replied venomously.
That stopped Sam, who glared at Megatron as fiercely as the Decepticon was doing to him. After a long moment of tense silence, Sam sighed gustily and folded into the helicopter. "Come on. Let's get out of here. The sooner I get my body back, the better."
"Seconded," Megatron replied and climbed in through the pilot's door, settling himself into the seat.
With a thought, Sam was airborne again. It was a little more difficult, considering he had a preconceived notion of how helicopters were supposed to move, but once Megatron had smacked him enough times and told him to trust his instincts and body, flying was once more effortless.
It was a rush to see the ground pass beneath him, houses and buildings looking like toys you would use with a train set. He didn't think that he'd ever forget what it feels like to have the wind caress your body, to know that through your own power you are gliding in and on an invisible fluid. It made his heart—spark?—soar.
"Do you ever get tired of this?" Sam asked Megatron.
"I know you just spoke to me, but it's too damn loud, so I put ear mufflers I found on. We can speak later, worm."
Sam's good humor was incapable of being broken, so he merely chuckled and continued his flight. His sensors were drawn time and again to various vehicles, but he continually dismissed them as being too small for his bulk. One did eventually catch his sensors, though, that gave him pause.
It was of a decent size, and had accoutrements that would be useful in their quest for information. As he flew by he scanned the news van, keeping the information stored for later use. He flew beyond the small semi-country town that faded back into Rocky mountain scenery.
Eventually, Sam found a place to touch down, and Megatron stepped quickly out of the cockpit. Sam allowed the change to wash over him, Megatron still growling his disapproval. Sam had the feeling that would always be his reaction until he was back in his body and able to chose his own alternate forms.
"What nonsense is this?" Megatron asked as Sam transformed into his bipedal form, taking a look at the new style he sported.
"It's a news truck. I made it generic news for the area, so it shouldn't be entirely weird that we're out in the kinda-boondocks."
Megatron made a 'hmph' noise and shook his head. "Whatever you say, insect."
Sam snorted and folded back into his newest alt form. He popped open the door and Megatron sighed, getting into the driver's seat. "So. Where to?"
"I think Denver is the closest city. Let's head there."
"Why? Wouldn't it be best to avoid human settlements so as to not be found out?"
"Yeah, but human settlements also have a higher concentration of information gathering places." Sam paused. "And we can also get a disguise for you there."
Megatron sighed and settled back in the seat. "You do know that I hate being beholden to your whims, right?"
"Oh, I get that feeling," Sam said smugly, which earned him a rap somewhere tender, making him growl in frustration. "How the hell do you find those places?"
He could hear the smirk in Megatron's voice, "My dear child, I've been working with Cybertronians and their alt forms all my life—there are certain constants, no matter the form."
Sam grumbled, but soon got lost in driving.
It was such a different perspective. He was also in total control—even when he had driven a car that wasn't sentient, there was always a feeling that he was disconnected from it. Now...as he was the car...every single thing was under his command. It was...indescribable. The kind of control. The kind of power. To be able to manipulate everything to his liking, to...
Sam shook himself out of such thoughts, them making him uneasy. Thoughts like that probably led only bad places.
As could be evidenced by his passenger.
The highway was slightly trickier than the back roads. Now he had to contend with other vehicles who were being driven by humans, not by themselves, and as humans could be distracted from what the car was doing...
Jesus Christ, this is more than residual memory! This is residual personality. I am so damn fucked if this gets any worse.
Sam shook himself mentally and reasserted that he was Sam Witwicky, son of Judy and Ron Witwicky, college student, dating the hottest girl in the entire world with the coolest car ever. Who he was right now...was temporary. He was not a Cybertronian, and most definitely not a Decepticon.
Getting into the heart of Denver, Sam pulled aside to a place where there were no meters and spoke to Megatron for the first time since they had begun driving. "See that store over there? K-mart?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Go in there, buy hair dye and a sweatshirt and underwear. Also sunglasses. The money should cover that, if you're frugal." Sam paused. "You probably should also get yourself something to eat and drink."
Megatron harrumphed, muttering something about Sam ordering him around, but got out of the car and dodged traffic to the other side of the street, entering the store.
Sam sat next to the curb, watching traffic go by and thinking.
All in all, it was actually kind of fun to be Cybertronian. It was a different way of looking at the world—hell, of just experiencing it. If he wasn't stuck in Megatron's body, he might actually be enjoying himself. As it was, knowing that someone who had tried to kill him—and succeeded once—was running around in his true body was enough to make him want to be human again.
Well, that and Mikaela. He wanted to be able to hold her without her being terrified of him.
And that was the downside to his new body. He couldn't interact with anyone. He was purely an observer, and it was driving him up a wall now that he wasn't moving.
The fact that he didn't know what Megatron was doing was also worrisome. He could be up to anything—stealing stuff, being an obnoxious bastard, etc., etc. Sam sighed inwardly and went back to watching traffic, hoping to find something less conspicuous than a news van. He eventually found a monster of an SUV (not a Hummer, thank god), but didn't change into it. While he would love to send Megatron into a panic, having a news van suddenly become something else while sitting innocently next to the curb probably wasn't a good idea.
He spotted Megatron coming out of the store and was bemused and annoyed by the Decepticon's new appearance.
"God, I look so damn emo with black hair," Sam commented once Megatron was safe in the driver's seat.
"Shut up, bug. This was the cheapest and fastest hair dye. Deal with it."
"At least the sunglasses are cool."
"I am glad you approve," Megatron drawled sarcastically. "I assume the sweatshirt is also to your liking?"
"Meh, not a color I would normally wear, but—"
Megatron sighed in a long-suffering manner, which made Sam snicker.
"Still, you could have picked a better vehicle..." Megatron murmured and ran his hands along the interior.
Sam squeaked in surprise. "Stop it! That tickles!"
Sam couldn't actually see Megatron, but from how Megatron's touch became feather-light—which made matters worse—he would have bet money that the jerk was smirking.
"Hate you. Hate you hate you hate you OH GOD STOP!"
Sam's entire frame shuddered and he took off quickly, slamming Megatron back in the seat while also giving passers-by an explanation for his sudden movement. He pulled back to the speed limit as they wound through the urban streets, his nerves still rattled. "Don't you ever—ever—do that again," he snarled at Megatron, who shifted in his seat enough to pull on the seatbelt.
"Why?" the Decepticon asked curiously.
"Just...just..don't," Sam growled. There was absolutely no way he was going to tell the Decepticon sitting in him how good that had felt, how it had sparked along his nerves—nerves?—in something really close to pleasure. He didn't want to be beholden to the forsaken creature in any way whatsoever.
Megatron made a kind of 'hmph' sound and settled into the seat.
"You do know I will find out eventually," Megatron pointed out.
Sam's voice was frigid when he replied, "No. You won't."
"Uh-huh," Megatron said softly, a kind of smug curiosity in his voice.
Sam sighed inwardly. Damn. He'd have to be even more careful around the 'con now.
"Where are we headed?" Megatron asked.
Sam pulled into an ally and shifted to his new SUV form, which made Megatron yelp. "You could have warned me!"
"And ruin my fun? Fat chance."
Megatron snarled insults, which Sam pointedly ignored. "Okay, so, now that we're in Denver, we have access—probably—to resources that might help us figure out where to start. I kept the technology and stuff from the news van in the back. Maybe you can start working on it to find out things, since I have no idea how to use them."
Megatron snorted and unbuckled himself before moving into the back where aforementioned technology lay, the equipment enhanced by Sam's new nature, allowing the Decepticon manipulating the system to get into places no-one should be able to using only what was available.
–
Sam was woken from his doze by Megatron bashing a delicate area, making Sam jump and snarl. "Would you KNOCK THAT OFF?!"
"You weren't waking up. You have a lot to learn about being a Decepticon."
"I. Am. Not. A. Decepticon!" Sam said slowly, heatedly.
"Of course not," Megatron drawled. "Anyway. I have at least found some information on the base itself. It was a former Air Force base, although the reason why it was put where it is is classified information. It was closed in the mid-1990s for, again, classified reasons. All personnel were either transferred to other bases or retired from military service with very good retirement packages."
Megatron sighed. "I have managed to get a list of former employees, looked for a pattern, and have really found none—except that there was a slightly higher than normal concentration of research scientists."
"So, what? You think it was an R&D base?"
"Possibly. There is—"
"Um, Megatron," Sam cut in. "My sensors on going on the fritz. They're giving me tons of information that I can only barely understand."
"Bring it up on the computer screens."
It took a moment, but Sam figured out how to reroute and display what he was getting.
Megatron swore fluently. "We need to get out of here. Now."
"What? Why?"
"There are Autobots in the area. You don't want to get killed, right? Get out of this city. I'll navigate since you're still clueless."
Sam harrumphed but drew slowly out of his parking space and merged into traffic normally. There was no reason for him to appear to be panicking, even though he was—a little. He didn't know how to fight in Cybertronian form—hell, in human form his policy was to book it rather than stick around to defend himself.
He felt a strange pressure on his processor and winced. "What're you doing, Megs?"
"Suppressing your Decepticon signature. It'll make it harder to pinpoint you if it's fainter. You might feel a little fuzzy, but deal with it, bitch."
"Fuck you, megs."
Sam was thinking quickly—he needed to lose the Autobots if he wanted to survive. However, going west was going towards his home and that might not be the best plan. On the other hand, going east meant entering the central US, which was very flat and very sparsely populated, and surely meant that one of the faster 'bots would catch up to him.
Unless he took to the sky, that is. None of the Autobots could fly, as far as he knew. Still, he would be a clean shot in such flat land.
Very well. West it was. Back into the Rockies where most cars couldn't travel.
Sam somehow managed to call up a road map in his mind and took an exit that would take him west, back to the mountains.
"Why are we going to way we came?" Megatron asked sharply.
"Because it's a hard place for cars to follow, and if I recall the helicopter..."
"You can get places they can't. Perhaps you have better survival skills than I thought. Still, it's inglorious to run."
"I'd rather survive, thank you, and since I don't know how to fight...well."
All sorts of warnings suddenly screamed through his consciousness, and Megatron took in a deep breath. "You might have to learn how to fight, worm. Two of the Autobots have honed in on your signature, and, trust me, they are bound to engage you."
Sam's thoughts were racing as he, too, caught the signatures of the two Autobots tailing him. A plan suddenly hit him and, low on options, he decided it was worth a shot. "Hey, Megs. I suggest you hold on because I'm going to try something reckless and stupid that might nonetheless end up in us getting away."
"Or get us killed."
"Well, one way or another. And at least this'll give you an adrenaline rush."
"Primus," Megatron half-growled. "Whatever. Just do it."
Sam floored it and accelerated to far too fast, weaving in and out of traffic until they came to a part of the highway that bridged over another.
I hope this works. I reeeeally hope this works.
Sam figured out how to deploy his weapons and shot a gap in the side of the highway before driving out of it. He heard Megatron gasp as they dropped, and Sam quickly provoked the shift into his remembered helicopter form.
A second before they hit the road beneath them, Sam soared upward, the blades of his new body creating enough lift to take them up and away, soaring into the sky in a controlled manner this time. Sam watched the ground, and two obviously annoyed vehicles returned the gaze, making him smirk inwardly.
"Don't you ever do that again!" Megatron snarled breathlessly. There was no bite to the statement, though, and Sam could tell that his heart-rate was elevated more from excitement than fear.
"What? It was kinda fun, y'know."
Megatron sighed gustily and grumbled all sorts of insults that Sam ignored. "They were just going to attack me because I was a Decepticon, and not because of you, right?"
"See Decepticon—kill it. That's the primary code, much as the reverse it true for Autobots form the Decepticon standpoint. I'm actually surprised that you managed to override that programming."
"Whatevs. I bet I gave them quite the surprise."
"I bet," Megatron said dryly.
They flew in silence for a few moments before Sam said: "You were going to say something before the 'bots found us."
"Hm? Oh. Yes. I have located one of the research scientists. She lives in Santa Cruz, California. She was, apparently, the lead scientist, and might give us clues as to how to reverse the effects of this machine."
"Mm-hm," Sam murmured.
"California is a little ways away from Colorado, so be prepared for a ride. Go get some sleep or something."
"Or something," Megatron muttered in reply.
Sam felt Megatron move around, collecting what supplies came with the 'copter and, within a few minutes, Sam could tell from the former 'con's even breathing that he was asleep.
Sam sighed inwardly and began to explore the extent of his innate capabilities as a Cybertronian.
Sure, there was the ability to switch back and forth between forms. But there was also the capacity to store up to 5 different alt forms before one schematic had to be deleted (this was apparently a special skill that Megatron liked to keep hidden—most Cybertronians could only recall one alt form at a time). There was an array of sensors that he had no clue how to begin to use, and a few programs that baffled him.
One, though, caught his attention.
He poked at it and examined it for a while before executing it.
It was mildly disorienting, seeing the world from two different perspectives. Sam's new holoform turned and looked around the inside of the helicopter and saw Megatron sleeping with a medical blanket wrapped around his shoulders, stretched out across a few seats. Sam shook his head ruefully and turned to sit down in the pilot's seat, his hands resting lightly on the controls. At least this way it wouldn't look like the helicopter was flying itself.
As he was flying along he caught sight of a flare, and two impulses warred briefly within him:
One was very much Decepticon, and urged him to ignore or slag the puny organics.
The other was very much human, and told him to go help whoever was there.
The human one won out, thankfully, and Sam turned towards the flare.
He approached slowly and landed a number of yards away so as to not hurt anyone in the party.
It was a group of mountain climbers, two of which were seriously injured. Sam made his newfound holoform exit his body and walk towards them, taking pains to leave tracks in the snow.
"Oh, god, I'm so glad someone saw our flare," one of the group said wearily. "We have two people injured..."
"Bring them in. You'll have to excuse the one other passenger I have, though," Sam said and lead them over to the helicopter, opening the side door. The two injured passengers were put in first, before the only mildly scratched ones stepped in. They were relieved to find an ample amount of medical supplies, which Sam smiled faintly at. "I'm going to head off to the nearest base. Are you capable of tending to their injuries alone?"
One of the people nodded. "We should be fine."
"Good," Sam said authoritatively and settled back in his seat, seeming to guide the helicopter back into the air while also looking up the location of the closest base. "How'd you guys get out here anyway?"
"There was an avalanche. The four of us were lucky—we managed to find shelter. There were two others in our party who weren't quite so lucky."
"I am sorry to hear that," Sam said softly.
"It's alright. What's your name, sir?"
Sam quickly ran through a list of search-and-rescue pilots in the area and settled on a name that made him snicker. "John Smith. I'm serious."
The group laughed tightly anyway, although a little of the tension faded. "Well, Mr. Smith, we're grateful for your help."
Sam snickered at the movie reference and concentrated on his flying. "It should be an hour until we get there. Try to find a few blankets and keep yourself from catching hypothermia."
He heard shuffling in the back and felt the two uninjured ones settle down once they had tended to their less fortunate comrades.
Sam's nerves spiked when Autobot signals came up on his sensors. Because they were flying to a station, it would only be prudent that they would be someplace that was accessible by car.
It appeared that what Sam had originally done as an act of charity now would save his life—he had hostages.
I must stop thinking like a Decepticon. I must stop thinking like a Decepticon, he told himself over and over, but found he was having a hard time convincing himself.
Eventually, they came upon the station and Sam gently touched down, turning off his engines. He turned in his seat to his passengers and smiled faintly. "Here we are," he said and popped open the door.
Megatron awoke at the lack of movement, stood, and walked over to Sam, giving him a bleary look. "What's up?"
"Helped some people. Would take off, but the Autobots in the fringes tell me that's a bad plan. Keeping you with me, however, gives me the advantage of a potential hostage situation, which means they'll talk first and shoot later."
Megatron blinked, then smirked. "Now that's thinking like a 'con."
"Shut it."
"Make me."
"Don't tempt me."
Megatron snorted and shook his head. "I'd really like to stay with you and keep you from being blown to tiny pieces by that warmonger of a weapons specialist, but I'm really hungry and would appreciate some warmth." Megatron paused and fidgeted. "And a bathroom break."
Sam inclined his head towards the building. "I'm never going to stop you from doing something unless it seems like it'll be ridiculously stupid and get you killed."
Megatron paused. "They shouldn't kill you in the open like this. And if they do try..." Megatron trailed off and smirked. "I authorize you to use deadly force."
Sam rolled his eyes while Megatron laughed and jumped down from the platform and towards the building where there would hopefully be some respite from the cold and for his bladder.
Sam remained where he was. It was difficult, maintaining a corporeal holoform, so he let it disappear into the shadows of his alt form and returned all his consciousness to himself.
The return to himself made it shockingly apparent how outclassed he was. He heaved an inward groan at picking up Ratchet and Ironhide's signatures as well as the smaller ones of Arcee.
He could also feel another coming from farther down the road—one that was all too familiar.
Optimus.
All who were watching him were fairly all-terrain vehicles, and from what Sam could see, Arcee had taken on slightly different forms to be able to accommodate the treacherous conditions.
This...would be difficult. His voice was still Megatron's, even if his appearance no longer matched that of the Decepticon leader. He could possibly reason with Optimus, but that was a long shot. Especially considering the Prime probably harbored some ill-will due to Megatron, well, offing him.
Sam hoped it didn't come down to a fight. He really hoped it didn't come down to a fight, because his ass would be handed to him so damn fast if it did...
At one point, Megatron came out and stepped in through the side door. "Sam," he murmured so softly that only Sam was able to hear. "I'm going to sleep in there because out here is fucking cold. If anything starts to happen, I will doubtlessly wake up—"
"You really don't know how being a teenage guy works."
Megatron sighed in exasperation. "I'm not you. My consciousness resides here and I've always been a light sleeper. If any battle begins, I will come out quickly. The Autobots probably won't hurt you if they see you with a human. Silly morals and all that."
"Shut up and go get sleep."
Megatron snickered and exited, walking back into the warm building.
Sam settled down to wait for when Optimus arrived, since he knew that was when things would begin to get interesting.
Unfortunately, the wait was short.
The Autobot leader arrived, but everyone stayed in their alt forms until all the lights were out in the main building, save one small light burning on the watch-room, just in case any calls came in that required immediate attention.
Sam watched apprehensively as all the Autobots transformed, looking at him intently with brightly glowing blue optics.
He had no idea what to do, how to act. He was human, damnit not a Decepticon! He had spent all his time around Autobots, how was he supposed to behave like their enemy? Still...some part of him rebelled at being regarded so coldly, making him transform as well, even though it was probably a Bad Idea times 9000.
Almost unconsciously, his stance was proud, arrogant, and aggressive, making all present tense.
Still, when Sam made no action, Optimus cautiously stepped forward, blue optics meeting blood-red.
"It is strange for a Decepticon to help humans."
Sam found his mouth on autopilot, some kind of deranged instinct taking over: "Perhaps not so much for a Decepticon who doesn't wish to be slagged on sight," Sam drawled in the voice he hated. "And anyway, I have found that they can be...useful," he said, allowing the Autobots to draw their own conclusions about how a human would be useful to a Decepticon (even though Megatron was about as useful as fungus. No, scratch that—at least some fungus could be eaten. Rust, then. As useful as rust. Which was much more appropriate for his current state of being).
That caused them to tense even more, Ironhide's canons beginning to charge. Sam flashed the weapons specialist a grin full of smug bravado that he didn't feel. He knew that Ironhide had a short fuse, but that it could be used to his advantage if played right.
Optimus's eyes narrowed, the disconnect of appearance and voice obviously baffling. "What is your designation?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Sam replied drolly.
"Answer him," Ironhide growled, making Sam smirk and cross his arms over his chest, his posture casually cocky.
"Why should I? Why would it matter? You're going to try to slag me anyway, whether you know my name or not."
"Damn right I will," Ironhide snarled and took a step forward, only restrained by Optimus's gesture. The Autobot leader gave him a curious, wary glance.
"You sound familiar, but your appearance and spark-signature are unknown to me. It is no longer possible for new Cybertronians to be made. How do you exist?"
So I don't feel like Megs, huh? Interesting...
"I'm special," Sam replied sweetly.
"That's enough—"
"Try it, Autobot scum. Right there—right there, in that building—are quite a number of humans. My weapons are as deadly as yours, just as charged. I'd be able to kill them—all of them—before one shot of yours, Ironhide, even scratches me."
Damn. Hostage situation indeed.
"If I recall correctly," Sam continued, "you haven't announced our existence formally to the hive of humanity. If we wake those monkeys up, it's just more paperwork and headaches for you, even if I don't get to them first."
It was easy. It was too easy. Alarmingly simple to slip into a completely brutal frame of mind, to taunt and tempt those before him into foolhardy action. Being a Decepticon was a release—no morals. Nothing to hold him back from descending into that dark space which was a siren song to all of humanity, but which most resisted because of societal expectations and constricting morals. It was a relief, in a twisted way.
The situation was a stalemate. He knew Optimus wouldn't risk the possibility of Sam murdering innocent civilians (even if one used to be a very not-innocent Decepticon). Sam, however, was completely bluffing—the thought of killing anything made him nauseous.
The tense silence was broken by someone opening the front door of the building.
Sam nearly laughed when he saw Megatron come out, staggering underneath a pile of bedding and supplies.
"A little help here?" he snarled at Sam.
Sam did snicker this time and knelt down, carefully picking off some of the heavy bedding.
"Jesus Christ, could you have waited any longer?" Megatron scolded Sam, who smirked.
Megatron caught sight of the other Autobots and raised his eyebrows before looking at Sam. "Friends of yours?"
"Not particularly," Sam drawled.
Megatron snorted and shook his head as he approached Sam, who placed the blankets down next to him and folded back into his helicopter form. Megatron threw everything in while Sam asked, "I thought you wanted to be warm."
"Yeah, but you don't snore like a fucking freight train," Megatron answered before climbing in and shutting the side door behind him. "That and I wanted to fuck with Optimus's head," Megatron said softly, voice carrying amusement through every syllable.
"If you don't mind, I have places to be," Sam said before taking off, all the Autobots watching, stunned, as he took off into the night.
Once they were far enough away to not be overheard, Megatron burst out laughing.
"Jesus, Sam, either that was the best acting ever or you're taking to being a Decepticon like a fish to water."
"Hmph. And if you haven't noticed, you've picked up a lot of human mannerisms."
"Unfortunately," Megatron replied caustically. There was an uneasy silence before he said, "It's...unnerving."
Sam would have nodded in agreement had he had the ability to do so. "I know. We really need to find a way to reverse this, if things have gone downhill this fast after just a little more than a day in the other's body."
Megatron sighed and set up his sleeping place. "Before we become Sam the Decepticon and Megtron the human."
The very thought was terrifying, and they flew through the night without another word.