The medics were hurrying around, much to Megatron's displeasure. He had a really good medic, once upon a time, a medic that he could depend on. But the child went to the carrier's faction, and so he had to obey tradition.
Aleta was exhausted, pale and sunk in the bed. She pulled the sheets around her skinny body when Megatron walked in, hugging the shadows as he gazed down at her. "It's a boy," she rasped.
His red eyes softened only for her and he took her boney hand. "My heir..."
"To the throne," she finished. "Long live the Decepticons?"
"All hail Megatron," he purred and he kissed her forehead just as the wailings of the baby grew closer.
"It's a boy," the medic said as he offered it to him. Megatron accepted the baby into his arms and he looked down at it.
It was fleshy. Just a ball of flesh over fat over squishy bones. It was hardly dangerous; no teeth, no claws, not even a growl could be used in self-defense. It had crimson hair, which startled Megatron, but when he looked at its mother, he realized that she had some crimson in her hair; the pink was only dyed in, covering her true colors: a mix of brown and red and some flashy blond tucked at the ends.
He gently stroked the sobbing thing's head. It was his. His child. He had created this. Where was his traits? No where, drowned out by Aleta's.
"He's yours, I promise you," Aleta sighed.
"I am aware." He frowned down at it and turned the baby around in his arms. "I am just looking for my traits that he should have inherited from me."
"They'll show through later, I promise," she sighed and she sat up, reaching for the baby.
Megatron lowered it into her arms and he sat in the chair beside her. He fell asleep there, and he was roughly jostled awake.
The ceiling was coming down, the medics were screaming, and his lovely Aleta was missing. All that remained in her place was the child, and Megatron grabbed him and ran.
When Megatron was safe, he turned and looked back at the rubble that had been the hospital. Medics were running out with nurses and patients, but Aleta was nowhere to be found.
The child was fussing in his arms, and Megatron glanced down at him. "Shh, shh, shhh..." He grabbed a medic before she could run away and he pulled her close. "Where is my mate? Where is Aleta?"
The nurse was black-haired, purple-eyed, and pale. She wasn't skinny, wasn't round. She was bulky without being cumbersome. Her bulk was pure muscle, and Megatron found it hard to grip her with one hand. "Let me go. I don't know where she went. She got up in the night and left. I don't know!"
Megatron released her to tend to his son. When he finally got him to lay quietly in his arms, he started walking, looking for Aleta, but without finding her. He knew he had to give up..he had to, but he also knew that a part of him would never stop looking for his mate. He sat down heavily and watched his son.
He looked up at the sky and saw the Nemesis fly away. So his own men bombed the hospital. Well, he thought, he could understand. The hospital had an Autobot insignia on the door, and he had ordered all the Autobot buildings distroyed. Optimus had only let him into this one because of his mate, because there was a child involved.
Now Optimus was glaring at him, marching with the Matrix swinging on its golden chain. "What have you done?"
Megatron scrabbled up to his feet, and he winced. Blood was staining his formerly pristine suit. Optimus' eyes instantly softened and he reached out to touch the stain. "Looks as though you are in need of medical attention."
"I have medics." Megatron curled the baby closer, looking up at the Prime, who gazed down at the child.
"He belongs to the Autobots," he whispered.
"He is my child, heir to the Decepticon throne. He is mine."
Optimus sighed and looked at him before looking down at the child, who was curled deep into Megatron's arms, his face pressed into his chest. "Very well...take good care of him."
Megatron backed away from the mech, and he ordered a rescue GroundBridge. He expected the Autobots to charge him, but there was a temporary truce, and there would be until Hot Rod grew up.
"Sir, you let him get away!" Brawn threw down his gun and stared at his leader.
"When Bumblebee was born, Brawn, Megatron gave us a month to raise him. When Rumble and Frenzy were born, we gave them two months to raise them. Now that the little boy is here, we must give Megatron time to raise him."
Brawn snorted and kicked his gun. The man was notorious for throwing fits, but he would recover. He always recovered.
Back on the Nemesis, Megatron was laying his child down on his bed, propping him up with pillows and wrapping him in blankets. He commed his scientist, growling a little when Shockwave said that he would be there momentarily.
When Shockwave arrived and treated him, Starscream stood in the doorway, watching the sparkling.
"What is that?"
"It is my heir," Megatron growled and he moved to defend his child from any prying eyes. "The heir to the throne."