Or: the Author ships Nova Prime/Megatron to hard not give it a happy ending. He still has to Earn It.
There is a theme song to this: "Not Gonna Die" by Skillet.
Pre-Animated, before Megatron became the magnificent bastard we know.
"SKYWARP!"
The teleporter was at his side in an instant and Megatron didn't need words to make his point clear.
The Prime - Nova - needed to be out of there last cycle.
"Live-"
It was the next thing he was aware of snarling as claws dug into the frame at the same time as he obeyed the medicals around him, vaguely aware they were trauma specialists, doctors, surgeons. Did it matter? Not in his mind, and unbidden, medic surfaced. A crude term that offered no differentiation.
It Did Not Matter, and he was vaguely aware of Damus's humming under the shouted orders. The Outlier using his gift to calm his spark. Yet, Damus couldn't stabilise Nova's.
Even the outlier had limits and Megatron hated Damus in that instant. Why couldn't he? It should be simple and easy and yet Damus couldn't and he was pretty sure he'd screamed to the stars over the unfairness of it all.
But that didn't matter and he curled around his Prime, whimpering. As if that would keep it from fading bit by agonising bit. As if that would keep him from agonising darkness against his spark as he screamed, pleaded and begged his Prime to stay.
Functioning without his Prime was a bleak, bleak prospect he didn't want to think about as he knelt, uncaring of his image. He knew many would pay top credit to see the Terror of Kaon on his knees, stained in energon as he kept internals from becoming externals even as he screamed and begged for his Prime to stay.
He ignored the medics working around him until the spark started to flicker.
A scream of denial tore its way from his throat as he reached for the faint, flicking, dying echo against his spark.
"Stay. Stay, I need you! You're everything I need and Want and you can't die!"
Not here, not now, not when they had so many plans to expose the Magnus for what he was. To claim the Hammer that held it.
The echo flickered and dimmed.
"Live!" The frame that same in his vision was slowly greying as the spark flickered and faded. "Live, please. I can't - please-"
Dignity? What was that?
Even he knew what it was, unlikely at the point in time, he did not care. He screamed again, helm pressing against his hands as he listened to the medics, barely understanding what they were saying, but he knew it was bad. "Please..."
He ignored the cold voice that told him he could live without his Prime. He couldn't - his Prime was everything, the reason for his functioning!
After a long, terrifying silence, the echo against his spark, the spark in the frame that was Nova's wonderfully bright spark, seemed to grow stronger. It flickered and flared, dimmed and seemed a whisp at times, but it was growing and he could have cried if he knew how.
His Prime would live.
Megatron was a miner and a sometimes gladiator. One who killed without remorse when it was demand. He honoured the slain was be fitted them at ever Light of the Lost celebration with spars that almost seemed as if dances against Soundwave, Damus, Hollowpoint, Strika, Flamewar, Hollowpoint, and others. Yet, the thought of losing his Prime was unbearable.
He was the Lord Protector and he'd failed to keel his Prime safe. Failed failed failed and his Sky-Lord had been injured and-
He was a failure.
"Megatron. You did what you do best."
"I failed..." he whimpered.
"You saved us," Starscream said - hissed. "We won't die here, and they think he died. We can use that."
How, he wanted to ask, yet he knew what the other meant, even if he didn't want to join reality just yet.
"Yes..." he muttered, even as he looked up and for the first time became aware of energon lines in him, in Nova, in Starscream. Both medical-
And lines that followed from his own body. Good. He'd make sure they lived even if he didn't.
"It's been almost half a vorn. "
Red Optics widened. Half a vorn of screaming and begging and keeping his Prime from flatlining, of demanding that the Sky-Lord Live. Of almost sacrificing himself for it.
He'd do it again in a sparkbeat. "You have a plan."
"Of sorts," the Skylord muttered. "They think us broken. We're not, but we need to find the Guard."
"They have him," Nova rasped.
"Where," Megatron and Starscream said together, not questioning how Nova was awake, nor how he knew. He was the Prime. The one with the Direct Link to Primus. Primes just did Things.
"Not sure," the Prime whimpered, trying to sit up but Megatron wasn't allowing that.
"You need to rest, my Prime. Then we talk about Sixer armour for you."
Because the last halfvorn could not happen again.
"But-"
"We wait and we watch. We plan and we get off Cybertron. We'll slowly drain them off Warbuiilds. They need to pay for hurting you -"
"You'd leave them defenceless?" Nova looked aghast.
Megatron smiled cruelly. "Yes, they hurt you - almost killed you-"
"No. I won't leave my people defenceless. We go off planet with your Unit but we keep the Warbuilds where they are. We plan, we train. We'll fight this, but open warfare is- We'd kill ourselves."
"Nova..." Megatron did not whine. He was a warbuild. "They hur-"
"And you would punish all the Civilians. No," Nova shook his head. "We do this my way, my Protector."
Megatron's mouth twisted, but he could no more deny Nova's logic than Nova could deny his. He turned to Starscream. "Your thoughts?"
Starscream smiled, wings twitching. "I've a few Ideas, but you need to be off Cybertron. Find the Convoys. The true ones, not the puppets they use."
"And we'll get off Cybertron in stages," Nova muttered. "It'll be easier. A Unit leaving here and there won't be noticed, yes?"
"Truth," Megatron said with a cold smile. "But when do we return?"
"When the time is right, my love. When we are strong, when we have allies everywhere."
"I thought I was the Warbuild."
"Oh," Nova whispered as he pulled Metron down until their sparkplates touched. "This is political, my love. We cannot win without political allies."
"I suppose," he muttered as he nuzzled his Prime. "What of Warbuilds?"
The class that existed to defend and protect their brethren.
"It' still war, Lord Protector, or do you think the Prime and I can do our duties and wage a war?" Starscream hissed, wings hiked.
"No," his optics flicked to where his Unit stood guard while medicals hovered. Starscream had a point. "Upgrade yourselves before the orn is over."
Weapons, frames. It didn't matter. He wanted them ready and willing to bring the fight to the physical level. Yet, the war they faced was a different kind of war, but still war.
Megatron mentally sneered. War was war and his people would be ready to provide the firepower and logistics when words failed.
"What is our first action?" Nova asked him.
Megtraon did not lose a beat. "We get off planet and we find the Guard-"
"Devcon," Starscream said in perfect Neo-Cybex. "His name is Devcon and he is, if my Sire was correct, still alive."
Or dead, but they didn't think he was dead.
"Find him," the Prime and Lord Protector growled as one. "We need him."
Only then would they know the way to the Crystali and what that meant.