(A/N: I was inspired to write a sequel to the story "when a spark is lost" due to all the positive feedback it got. I hope this story does the praise I received justice!)


The first time Megatron had convinced himself it was nothing. A trick of the light, a cruel prank caused by his treacherous spark to torment him more than he'd already been. Another brick to add to the wall he'd begun to build around himself in hopes of preventing him from experiencing that kind of pain a second time.

It wasn't long before he saw him again, the warlord's spark skipping a beat as he picked out the familiar frame silently ghosting it's way down the Nemesis halls as if it belonged there.

But it didn't.

No matter how quickly Megatron followed, he'd always lose sight of his love, turn the corner to stare blankly at the empty hall it revealed to him. He told himself that it was wrong, that he'd never get to hold the mech he loved in his arms again, those thoughts immediately followed by the memory of the ice-cold frame against his own, a chill crawling up the silver mech's arms as he clawed at them in an attempt to erase the memory from the very plating of his body.

Starscream was the first to notice. Megatron could see the way the seeker would look at him, red optics narrowed in suspicion as he stopped whatever he was doing to silently regard his leader whenever he passed by.

Megatron still refused to acknowledge his SIC, or any other mech for that matter, as he chased after the ghosts suddenly appearing in the halls more and more frequently.

In an attempt to show the old warlord the fault in his subconscious fantasies, Starscream and Skyquake alike had attempted to convince their leader to visit the body carefully preserved in the lowest levels of the Nemesis, but Megatron refused.

No one else ever saw the lithe mech making his way through the halls or working at his allotted console gathering data and intel, but Megatron did. Let them all think he was crazy! He would be the one to laugh when he brought his lover back to them!

Megatron's appearance quickly deteriorated, though the warlord himself didn't notice the way the paint on his arm was chipping away from the shallow wounds made deeper each time that phantom chill visited, nor the way his joints creaked with every movement, how his tanks viciously reminded him of their need for fuel.

He could not rest. His lover was insistent in that manner, appearing every time the warlord's mind began to wander, began to question his own sanity.

Soft creaks broke what would be an eerie silence as Megatron continued his tireless pacing of the Nemesis' corridors, constantly seeking, searching with his wavering EM before he found he couldn't continue anymore. His knees shook as the powerful warrior let out a low whine, venting ragged as he attempted to lean against the wall.

A familiar wash of air caused his plating to tingle.

Megatron reached to scratch at his chassis, dull red optics absently making contact with the tall mech standing at the end of the hall, causing the silver warlord to perk and stumble towards it weakly.

With every step he made, the other retreated, Megatron calling for his love to stop fleeing, the only sounds coming from his mouth being that of displaced air, nothing forming that another would hear.

Turning the corner as quickly as his weakened frame allowed, Megatron's spark jumped when he came face-to-face with the familiar visor, the warlord making a sound of happy triumph as he reached for the mech he loved, spark pulsating faintly as he searched for the other's EM with his own failing one.

-I found you! IfoundyouIfoundyou!-

Megatron gave a hoarse cry of anguish when his servo passed through the other, grasping at only air.

The spiked helm turned downwards to observe the silver servo as it passed through him, watching for a moment before looking back up at the taller mech for several moments, demeanor dispassionate, almost taunting.

"You're not real." Megatron choked out, voice raspy with disuse and lack of strength.

Silently the slim mech looked up at the failing warlord before turning away and quietly walking down the hall to turn the corner, vanishing from sight.

Megatron didn't follow, the once-powerful mech leaning heavily against the wall to slide down to the floor where he remained, nearly curled into himself as his spark suffered the grief of what it believed to be a second loss.

Optics shut as he lay, drawing labored vents as he fought the pull of much-needed recharge, a single tear slipped free to silently make it's way down the scarred faceplates. Megatron didn't even have the strength to cry. Not the way he wanted to, so he just silently prayed for death as the grasping hands of sleep dragged him under.

As he lost himself to the dark comfort, Megatron could've sworn he heard laughter.