Hello again! This chapter starts almost exactly where the last one left off.
Also, we've entered a whole new sector with the letters, as Starscream is writing from months after what he's talking about...sometimes. Nightmares and crap... It's been a few years since the last letter, too. Sorta. It's a bit...rather, confusing, but hopefully by the end of the chapter, you'll semi-understand what happened.
And interesting fact, I texted most of this chapter on a half-cracked Ipod screen. It was bloody hard, and...slow. I type quickly. And I hate this damn thing's auto-correct. How you get ironicallShankar from- oh it just did it again... Fffffuck.
Anyway! Please enjoy this chapter! And...please be proud of me...for all the bloody texting...
Soundwave's Britishness is awesome! X3
Please Enjoy.
Chapter Time! :3
"I don't know what to say... Things have been...odd lately." Megatron sighed, leaning back against the console, fighting the strange urge to twiddle his thumbs.
"Odd as in how?" Soundwave inquired. The spy had managed to get him to calm down, and tell him why strange energies had been passing between the two of them as of late. And Megatron was completely mind blank. Most of him wanted to get it over with and spill everything about these feelings and the confusion, and why Starscream, was, well not being Starscream! If only the slagger would try to assassinate him... That would just put things back on track...
But of course, he hadn't tried to. Nor was he going to, it seemed, as Soundwave had told him. "He has no interest in further trying to overthrow you. In fact, since Dreadwing's demise, he's been showing signs of abundant loyalty, and has spoken to me on multiple occasions concerning ways to better the Decepticons in whole."
That had put Megatron on edge. Of course, with the way his Seeker had been acting lately... Let's just put it as that he believed Starscream stabbing him in back was, mmm, unlikely.
Megatron fought for something to say. "Starscream- I - I didn't want... I mean-" He glared acid holes through the floor, attempting to concentrate. "...These...past few days, I haven't, exactly, wanted to pound his head into the wall." He paused, adding offhandedly. "...Maybe his valve into the berth, but that's entirely different."
Soundwave was unfazed, as always. "So you admit to interfacing?"
"Yes. Quite a bit, actually... Ever since he returned to the Decepticons."
"And you weren't interfacing before?"
"Well..." Oh Holy and patient Prima, carrier of Primus, Queen to the fucking Primes, why was this so awkward. "When I arrived on Earth..." He shook his head. "It never happened, no. "
"Well, what about before that? When was the last time you two engaged in interfacial physical activities - together - completely consensually?"
Momentarily stunned, Megatron stared at Soundwave, whatever awkwardness melting away to shock. Was he saying...? No... No. Never. How dare he think him so low! As if he needed force to get a bot in his berth! Honestly, it was beneath him! Gritting his denta, he spat angrily, "Are you suggesting-?!"
Soundwave immediately interrupted him. "No. But say, when was the last time Starscream, however vaguely, initiated an interface? Before your arrival on Earth?"
Leaning back against the console, Megatron huffed, "We haven't ever exactly been on the best of terms, Soundwave." he hissed, "but I suppose he did inquire it a few times over the past decades."
"But not often?"
Crimson eyes met gray ones. "We didn't interface often."
The spy lifted a finger. "But when you did, - we are excluding all instances involving High Grade, for your knowledge - "
"So basically every time," the Warlord muttered.
Soundwave, ignoring him, continued, "you drove for it more-so?"
Megatron paused. "Well...yes." He took a step towards him. "What does this have to do with anything?"
Again he was ignored.
"And how does that make you feel?"
Megatron looked to him with a flat expression. "...Well now you're just screwing with me."
Soundwave grinned. "Only a little. Though, in all seriousness: Why do you believe that is?"
Once again he was at a loss for words. As pointless as the question sounded...why was it that...he was more...attached? A gulp. No that couldn't be right... He...wanted it more because...because... "I-I..."
"Tell me this, Megatron," Soundwave started all too casually, "why do you believe you're still holding on to him, even when you claim you're not?"
"I never said or claimed anything of the sort!," Megatron spluttered without thinking, immediately afterwards wishing he could take that back. Great. Now he had Soundwave thinking he actually had feelings... Haha, y-yeah ri-right...
Soundwave gave him a look. "We'll deal with your immense denial issues later. Right now, I want you to think about, and tell me, why you believe you still clearly want Starscream."
Megatron snorted, feigning a brusque attitude. "In which way?" Lame. He knew. But all he could say.
He pretended not to notice his "old chap" seeing right through him. "In every way."
Fuel caught in his throat, cables restricting. He 'swallowed', managing to just get out semi-evenly. "Be pacific."
Soundwave stood his ground. "I don't believe I need to be."
"Oh what are you going to say?!" Megatron suddenly snapped, whirling around to face him directly. "That I should 'look inside myself' and 'figure out what I honestly want'-?!"
"Why don't you start by asking yourself why you're so afraid of knowing what it is you want?"
Taken aback, Megatron crossed his arms, growling defiantly. "I'm not afraid- I'm not afraid of anything!"
"Really?" Soundwave arched an optical ridge. "So," dilly dallying, his optics played around the room, as if in a deep-thinking matter, before coming back to the Warlord's. "Let's say...if I told you, that the only way the Decepticons could possibly continue to exist, now that their glorious Leader is falling apart, would be to go up to Starscream, apologize for all the scrap you've given him, and tell him you want to make things right, you'd do it without hesitation, right?"
Shocked by the implication and unwarned constant change of attitudes, silence swallowed him. It took his pride longer than it should have to slap him in the face and force out a quivering. "...O-of course..."
"Ah, because it wouldn't mean anything, since, you obviously don't care. Am I correct?"
Megatron growled, a deep, threatening sound. A sound that unfortunately his era-old friend was immune to. "Obviously."
A cheeky smile lit the bastard's faceplate. "Good! Then go do it now."
The wind was knocked out of Megatron. He choked, vents spluttering, intake clogged with pieces yesterday's fuel. His spark had frozen, Energon rushing through his cables as reality tried to crash around him! Darkness slipped in and out of his vision, shock vibrated physically in his chest, fear encased him in an interminable cage of, "what ifs", "no ways", and "what. would. he. DO?!'s" Eventually, all that came out of the terrified Warlord, was a loud, booming. "WHAT?!"
Soundwave, the arrogant fucker, was perfectly calm, stating factually. "You said you would go without hesitation."
Megatron spluttered, taking several steps back. "That was when the Decepticons were somehow in danger of degrading!" He tried to reason, with himself or with Soundwave... Nothing seemed clear anymore, his spark hurting. "Which, by the way, they are not!"
"Perhaps that is what you see."
He gripped onto a console, optics wide, confused, lost. "What?"
A condemning expression darkened Soundwave's eyes. "You said you'd go, Megatron." He tilted his helm, gray, soulless Pits of death borrowing right through the shaking Warlord. "Why won't you hold to that?"
Vents caught, glossa twisted, he could think of nothing to say, frame wanting to run; run as far as he could! "B-because!" he rushed, "There's-there's n-no point in doing it! And besides," he took a breath, straitening, trying to gain ground, "Starscream would only-"
"What."
The question cut through him. What. Starscream would only what. What would he do? What would he say? What would he think? Would he be furious, angry that Megatron had brought such a thing up after all these years? Would he not say a word, simply stare, thinking his mate had been hijacked; cloned; replaced; whatever- not believing this could possibly be happening? Would...he be...happy? Open to it? No... That was impossible. It was a million times more likely for him to laugh, never thinking, that through all the time in the universe, Megatron now gave a scrap about him.
Yes.
That was the one.
Megatron knew that that would be exactly how it would happen, should he dare confess to his mate he was wrong. Because that was the one that hurt the most.
Soundwave, after yet another eternity of endless waiting, (there seemed to be many of those going around...) finally spoke, in an even, non-pitying tone. "Ask yourself this: why you don't want to hurt him? Not again. Then come find me."
~~O,O~~
Lord Megatron sighed, moving to collapse on his berth. This was it. He was done for. Soundwave had given him much to think on, too much, and whatever ending the road ahead lead to...it looked like the end of the easy life, and of the vicious, unfeeling Warlord known universally as the Slag Maker, Lord Megatron. Damn. He was so fucking screwed.
No. Screwed didn't even begin to cover it. He was... He was...
He could deal with all the scrap in the universe, alright? Planetary civil war? Autobots? Insecticons? Bring it. ...Feelings? Bondmates? L-l-l-lovvvee?
...
...
...
...Dear Primus,
Hi, it's Megatron. You know, the mech who sorta destroyed all of Cybertron in an evolved quest for freedom to power that seems almost irrelevant now due to that, well, Cybertron's dead-? Ever heard of me? Well, probably best for everyone to cash in my time-credits and KILL ME NOW!
Megatron groaned. He legitimately believed he wanted to die. Screw the cause. Screw life. He'd lived long enough, eh? Caused enough tyranny to be remembered by... Best to have it ended now lest the reputation he'd worked so hard for be taken away.
And it would be, for, sadly, Lord Megatron, was dead.
Megatron knew this, because Lord Megatron wouldn't be confused about his feelings. Oh no, Lord Megatron would have just killed his stupid Seeker the moment he was in jeopardy! Lord Megatron wouldn't be questioning himself! Wouldn't be wailing about what he wanted, why this, why that- he would simply go on commanding his army! AND WOULD NOT BE CONSOLING IN HIS THERAPEUTIC THIRD IN COMMAND ABOUT HIS "BLOODY BONDMATE," THAT HE COULDN'T. CARE. LESS ABOUT!
...
...
...
...Yes, it was time to die. His image would crumble if he lived any longer... He just...wasn't himself anymore. He could stare blankly at the wall all day, mind contemplating, complaining about what in the Hell was wrong with him, and it wouldn't matter.
He'd changed.
He knew it.
Because all he wanted to do right now was go find Starscream, bang him through the berth, and go to sleep with the Seeker in his arms.
Who was he kidding, after all?
It felt good, just being there with him. While it shouldn't.
It was pathetic, and weak, Autobotish, stupid...chliché? Yeah, why not...
Point in case, he shouldn't have been caring about...any of this. But he was. And...that was...scary.
He shook his head. What was he saying. No. Not frightening. Just...different. Odd, and unexpected. Lord Megatron simply wasn't supposed to have feelings. Hell, that's what made him so perfect. He was in-Cybertronian. A brutal monster all feared could tear them apart. Lord Megatron, worked. For the crowd, for the people. He was stern, commanding...
So, once again, who was Megatron?
Said, pathetic mech shook his head.
Just a gladiator.
~~;^;~~
He starred at the box in his hands, contemplating furiously reading another letter. He knew he would have to, sooner or later, but... The last one had made him feel like absolute scrap. It had been hard to concentrate, to even vent properly! Misery. The misery he had caused... His spark spun, aching.
He felt...bad, alright? Guilty. Horribly...awfully guilty. He admitted it. He was just one big weakling. Fine. And maybe Soundwave was right. He knew that he was confused as to what he wanted. But why was he afraid? What was he afraid of?
Everything. Was all his spark seemed to say.
Megatron groaned, leaning back against the helm board. He needed a break. To many thoughts were weighing him down...
Looking to the tiny box in his hands, he sighed. "Wimp." he cursed, reaching for the next letter.
Settling back, his optics narrowed at the sheet. It was time to keep going.
Dear Megatron,
Iceshatter said I may as well begin writing again, but I could think of nothing to scribble down..only these letters I used to write from time to time. The fires brought everything down, and yet I still managed to hold onto this... A reminder of better days? Ha. What am I saying... Anything of the past is /better/ than this run-down old scrap heap of a grounders home.
What am I doing, Megatron? Writing letters I'll never send, that you'll never read. I've truly lost my mind.
~Starscream.
...What?
He was frozen. A sinking feeling crushing his chest... And upon examining the letter further, he noticed a difference in both the tiny sheet's quality, and the liquidized metal ink... Thicker, sloppier... No...so this must have been- The fires... No...no, no, no! It couldn't have been-!
He hastily reached for the next letter.
Megatron.
Nightmares. Always more and more of them... I hate it. I wish I were strong enough to simply end it all...I wish I hadn't found that door, or ran away. I should have died just as everyone else. Burnt to ash...
Iceshatter continues to insist I write down my troubles, that it'll help. Oh the fool... But he is a sweet fool, one who's saved me more times than I care to say. And I felt I should honour his request by at least trying.
Nothing special this time. Flames erupting, screams crying. Black, pure pain visibly spiraled through the pouring ash of the fiery sky... I suppose the only thing that made coherent sense was Skywing grabbing my servo, forcing me to push myself forward as my city burned... I can still hear the screams of the dying femme, trapped under a pile of rumble, two bloodied, deactivated little shells huddled lifelessly under her broken wings... We keep moving...just keep moving! Why didn't we help her?! Why, why WHY?!
We reached the wall, and I got to watch him die all over again... That single shot taking him down instead of me... Why?
This time, flames entirely swallowed the landscape, black all I could see behind the roaring red. An Autobot grabbed me, wrenching me down into the fiery darkness. I screamed, and awoke.
Fresh tears in my eyes as always. Iceshatter's arms around me...as always.
Megatron couldn't stop reading, spark racing at a thousand kilometers per second.
Dear Megatron,
I find myself almost wishing to look back and read some of these old letters.. But I won't. How stupid and naive I was.
Well, anyway. Same old same old, I suppose.
Though this time the consuming fire took upon itself the shape of the Autobot symbol as it swept over Vos unhindered.
I...don't believe I'll ever be able to even look at the accursed insignia again.
Megatron starred emptily at the littlest letter... Yes, these took place...afterwards... He gulp, hopeless to pulling out another letter, his spark pained by the unhelpable curiosity pinching at him.
Dear Megatron,
Iceshatter's been gone for almost three cycles, I haven't been able to recharge since. Every time I close my optics, death flashes through my mind, and I simply end up curling into a ball in our berth, tears slipping through the rusty sheets.
The windows open... ..Outside lays the world... I haven't stepped out in weeks, months, I don't remember. I just...hope he gets back with some Energon soon. My wings itch to fly... But I'm safe in this shack... Out there...
His Seeker...he'd felt so helpless, alone... And where had he been? Uncaring, unconcerned, hoping his lithe, brunt frame would appear somewhere.
It sickened him.
Megatron.
Deep grim grins settled into blackening sky. Loved ones corpses, their faces blank in the scream of death. Dead little ones falling, the bodies burnt and riddled. My own metal, flickering, melting off my spark, spinning lonely in the raging darkness.
I can't stand these dreams anymore. I need Iceshatter back...
A grimace met his features. The fall of Vos... The affect it must have had on Starscream... And he wasn't there for him. Not in the slightest... He was off banging some low-life hooker for the fuck of it, while Starscream... He was with what seemed like a new mech. Iceshatter. Hmm... Iceshatter... Who, exactly, was he?
Attempting to ignore the burn in his chest, he read on.
Dear Megatron.
I think of all the nights we spent together. All the lies you spoke to me... All of those good feelings, how little they truly meant, are they even possibly as good as the one I have now? Iceshatter beside me, evidence of this past night, the first night I ever completely let him in and have me, splattered all along the sheets...
I do not miss you. I hate you. I hope to know you are dead soon.
Starscream.
He couldn't read anymore, body numb, stiff. He hated him...
...
...
...It made sense.
...
...
...
...He had every right.
...
No. More...than every right...
...
He just...
...
...
Megatron swallowed the knot constricting his throat cabling.
...
...He couldn't read anymore.
~~;_;~~
Empty. That's how he felt.
Starscream had looked to another mech, whoever he was, for reassurance. And he'd found it. And, by the letter, was a fuck of a lot more happy with this Iceshatter than with him.
Megatron knew nothing about the mech, but... He supposed that was how it should be. Perhaps he deserved the Seeker. While the Warlord most certainly did not.
A deep sigh cycled from his vents, the warm air ghosting atop the cool looking-glass. Emptiness inside blanketing across his entire being...Megatron starred at his reflection, his sad, pathetic, empty reflection. His spark was numb, aching deep within, but silent as far as he could feel, not spinning, just...existing. Horribly existing...
Why was this happening to him? Was this the universe punishing him for all the scrap he'd caused? Because if so, bravo universe, bra-fucking-vo, universe. Not only did he feel like the biggest aft-head in existence, but the inexplainable lostness of his mind was torturously horrifying. He felt so empty...and...down...
He starred blankly into his dim optics. Wondering uselessly why his spark had just seemingly...stopped.
A thought occered to him, and with an inner shrug, Megatron watched his reflection's chest-plates split, baring his spark for the world of his wash-racks to see. It'd been centuries since last he'd looked at the retched soul inside of him. From what he remembered; blackness. Clouds of storming purple circling hauntingly over the dark orb... He'd simply snorted, tucked his soul away, and never looked again. But gazing upon it now...
Instead of the obsidian-solid base, light violet glimmered under swirls of the deepest, dark blue, like the ocean at midnight. Slivers of white glinted just barely through the pale... His optics squinted, watching the dim silverish snakes slither through the purple sea, under the navy clouds. Slipping by the violet waves; circling slowly 'round the spark...
The main the door to the Decepticon Leader's quarters hissed open without announcement, meaning only one thing.
Chest-plates closed with a snap. He whirled around just as Starscream stepped into their wash-racks, optics glazed, the day's weariness lost through their ruby shine. Perfect frame shifting, silverish wings perked in an all-too familiar surprise. "Megatron," he greeted quickly, voice low but not unkindly.
The per-programmed response was too huff and rudely brush past him, but Megatron did neither, starring blankly at the slim frame of his mate.
Horrible thoughts were of course weighing over his darkening mind, those of the usual self-loathing his idiot spark was so uptune to causing. But all he could think, rather selfishly, was suddenly of another mech, holding his Seeker, fucking his Seeker, being...there, for his Seeker, when he himself wasn't...
The idea itself was enough to make his spark sting hurtfully.
"Megatron? Meeeeegatron? Woo-hoo! Annnybody in there?"
Megatron blinked, frame and processor re-activating into the real world to see a slender servo waving directly in front of his faceplate. He took a step back, clawed digits lifting to pinch the bridge between his optics. "Uh, yeah." He said rather dumbly, dropping his hands to his hips. "Hey."
...Hey? What was this, the dark ages?
Starscream, once again, appeared very confused. "...Yes," he spoke unevenly, "hello." He tilted his helm. "Are you...feeing alright, Meh-" the Seeker seemed to bite his glossa. "Lord, Megatron."
The truth? Hell no. But was Megs a truthful mech? Truthful to himself that he was a bloody, guilt-free lier, yes. "Fine, Commander, Starscream."
The Seeker raised an optic ridge, servos folding behind his back.
Megatron felt childish, but held the strangely awkward eye-contact 'til Starscream finally shrugged. "Well, alright..." He muttered to himself, turning away from the apparent Warlord to walk over to the berth. Megatron mindlessly of course followed him.
Draping an arm around the Seeker's waist, they slipped into their berth together, wordlessly, tiredly, contentedly. Megatron didn't know what to say, and Starscream didn't really seem to be up to talking, for once. No, the Seeker quickly and quietly slipped into recharge, slighter frame going slack against the old-gladiator's. And Megatron, spark strangely numb, fallowed swiftly suit.
Note Time!
Well I hope you enjoyed that! I did :3! Even if I hated writing (texting) most of it. Damm power-out. Only lasted for a minute, mind you. But it made me lose crap.
Anyway, this almost feels like a filler for some reason... Even though it's NOT! Important shit shall be going down soon...in the letters at least. Megs is just kinda depressed at this exact moment. Does he deserve it? Yes! Will he act a upon it, try to understand why he's like, I dunno, a person again? ...I think you'll have to wait and see. ;P But I got allot planned for this story!
Which...actually brings me to another point, that's been a big issue weighing on me. How LONG do you want the story to be? I originally inteaded for this story to be short, probs under 25,000 words or so, but now... Well, as you can see, the story has shifted on me... Severely. Started with Ch5 and now...I got a fuck load of crap in the real world that's gonna go down! :D Well, maybe not a whole lot- I dunno, things get complicated, but at the same time don't. BUT ANYWAY! As I am still (shamefully) moulding the story, (Though yes I have an ending! :D) I'd like to have a good idea of the length you guys could enjoy and appreciate without the story becoming a big pile a scrap, dragging on too long, or maybe actually being too short, events seeming rushed, people realizing things too quickly. :/
So please do tell! How long should the story be? Short, long? Short AND long in the weird sense of somehow unfolding events quickly while not rushing the characters and their development? ...That'd be hard...and what I'm kind of thinking, I dunno. So please tell me! :D
But lastly, just a big, fat THANK YOU. I've already gone on too long, and...honestly I can't express how grateful I am for how popular this story has become in my view, and just how great, encouraging and wonderful every awesome review has been. Even if you're just reading, you have my deepest thanks for sticking with this through these past...28,000 words with this chapter! XD
And of course, finally a personal shout-out to my incredible friend ADAl44T-KB-O! Epic One you are just the bestest, and the rest of these peeps reading this story have you to thank for motivating me to write, and inspiring me to put real thought and work into the plot, which shall work out, and the story in itself.
To everyone else, go check out her stuff. She is a fantastic writer, who's stories, the few presant and many more to come, are simply delicious... And her smut is amazing, so plus there! ;P
Please leave a review, what you think, how long it should be, ANYTHING, and I promise to cherish and thank you for it (if I can) :3
~Scarlet!
