Ch 26

A.N. So, Fridays are going to be my official 'publish' day, but like I (think) I said last time, if there's a chapter I'm super excited about or am just bored, I'll post on tuesdays. So an alternating once a week and twice a week thing. Sound good?

I'm currently working on a later scene that's giving me mega trouble. Lemme tell you, threesomes are frickin hard to write! Especially when you're trying not to make it seem like a porn vid. XP

EDIT: I forgot to give a shout out to my new best friends/minions. Super big thanks to Lunarburst23 and FirstStrike1177. Go check out their stories. They're awesome.

Making Friends With The Monsters In Our Heads

"I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed

Get along with the voices inside of my head

You're trying to save me, stop holding your breath

And you think I'm crazy, yeah, you think I'm crazy

Well, that's nothing"

-Eminem "The Monster"

Megatron was alive once more. The decepticons had used the Allspark shard to bring him back.

London had simply been a diversion to get the autobot's attention somewhere else. It had worked splendidly.

During his escape, Megatron and his fellow decepticons had smashed into a U.S. submarine, killing everyone inside. The cons who had revived Megatron seemed to have vanished shortly after. It was like they never existed, no one could find them. Megatron, on the other hand, journeyed into deep space, much like he did before he fell all those millennia ago.

It was in space that Megatron rocketed through the oblivion, heading at break-neck speed toward Mars. How fitting, a planet named after a human god of war. Megatron found that he had quite a bit in common with the Roman god.

After only a few earth hours did Megatron arrive at the red planet, thanks to his warp tech. Skywarp certainly had his uses, creating a devise that could alter the surrounding space to travel massive distances in a very short amount of time.

Megatron's clawed pedes landed hard of the red-brown earth, stirring up the soil around him. He ignored it. Ahead of him was a massive black beast. It lay crooked in one of the planet's many craters, looking very much dead. Megatron knew it wasn't.

The paint of the ship, if it could be called that, was much like a black hole, sucking in the surrounding light and energy. It was something dark and evil, Megatron could feel it to his core. And he liked it.

The Fallen. One of the first Thirteen who had fallen from Grace, as was his title. His true name had long since been forgotten thanks to a vow made by his brethren to never utter the name again.

He had once been the deity of chaos and war. Now he was a seething creature of torment and destruction, servant to the Unmaker himself. The Fallen put the saying 'Sold his soul to the devil' to shame.

Megatron neared the metal monster with a small hint of caution. One could never be too careful around chaos himself.

The ship-sized creature stirred slightly. An amber optic slid open, eying his visiter. The optic closed once more and the metal beast quivered.

A thick mist of darkness formed in front of Megatron. It condensed into a tall, somewhat lanky Transformer. It was entirely black with glowing amber optics. It had four arms that stretched too long. It's legs were crooked like a cyberwolf's and it had talons like a bird of prey. It's face looked almost human aside from the crests and horned that rose form it's long head.

"Fallen." Megatron gave a mock bow. Best to flatter the beast than get killed.

The Fallen chuckled, a sound much like the shriek of grinding iron. "Hello pet. How's my little Megsy?" He asked, grinning with shark-like teeth.

"Do not call me that." Megatron growled, momentarily forgetting discretion with the ancient Prime.

The Fallen waved a servo dismissingley. "You know you like it. Glad that you're, you know, not dead." He laughed, a sort of cackling, metal tearing noise. "Have a nice swim with the fishies?"

Megatron growled but didn't answer. The Fallen could tax his nerves, but he would be a fool to lash out. "I came to discuss with you our plan of action now that the Allspark is destroyed." He said instead.

The Fallen shrugged. "Kill the Prime. He has the Matrix, something we need to rebuild Cybertron. The boy, Sam Wickitty or something like that, has a shard of the Allspark. Not a very big piece, but enough. With that and the Matrix we'll have enough power to revive our home world."

"I will have Barricade and Frenzy hunt down the boy and take the shard." A wicked grin spread on Megatron's faceplates. "And I will have my revenge for him killing me."

"Ooh, a torture session. You have to invite me. I do love a good torture."

Megatron rolled his optics. He vented before continuing with his original topic. "Cybertron is broken and it's cities destroyed. We'll need to rebuild it." He went on.

The Fallen shrugged. "You kept Autobot prisoner, yes? Wipe them and use them as slaves to rebuild the planet." He said carelessly. "You will become the ruling Prime. I will take my place as once more as a god. Tada, everyone's happy." He grinned, a servo waving in the air. "Well, except for the slaves."

"And we will finally be at peace." Megatron agreed.

Galloway was livid. He spent a full hour ranting about Megatron coming back online and how the Autobots didn't stop it.

In their defense, there was nothing they could do. It had happened so sudden and unexpectedly. Galloway didn't care. He blamed the Autobots anyway. The director was becoming so annoying that even Optimus was tempted to shoot him. Sadly, his value of life over rode his annoyance. Galloway was very luck in that aspect.

I was just as pissed. That fragger was alive again. It wasn't fair! He was dead, the war almost won, and then they just had to bring in the fucker back to life!

But then again, life isn't fair.

The bots' reaction was much stronger than my own. Bumblebee had fear in his optics when he heard the news (probably because it was Megatron who crushed his vocals), Optimus looked plain depressed, and the twins were livid.

I'd never seen so much hate in them. In anyone actually. It was kinda terrifying, seeing them that angry.

I wondered what caused them to hate Megatron so much. That reaction could only come from a great loss. Who had Megatron killed?

Part of my didn't want to know.

Ratchet sighed, trying his best to think of something other than the fact Megatron was online. It was a difficult feat. Unlike most autobots, Ratchet had known the mech before he became the leader of the decepticons. How the former Lord Protector had fallen to the creature he was now, Ratchet hadn't the slightest. And that frustrated him to no end. He'd known Megatron. Knew what he was capable of, what he believed in, who he would die to keep safe. His brother was one of them. The same brother he had tried countless times to kill.

There was a great deal of speculation on what caused Megatron's fall from grace. Many thought he'd always had it in him, and it had only taken one push before he snapped. Others thought everything leading up to the Decepticon uprising was a facade. Most didn't really know what to think.

Ratchet had his own theories.

After all, the death of a sparkmate could do excruciating damage...

Ratchet shook the thoughts away and turned back to his medical scans. The readings made him vent in weariness.

It was the twin's scans. His tired optics read over the information painted on the datapad. What he saw concerned him greatly.

While their frame and processor health was in peak condition, it was their sparks that had Ratchet concerned. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe always had unstable sparks, after all only 1.0003% spark split twins survived. Ratchet had to give them props, they defied the impossible with everything they did.

That didn't help the fact that their sparks seemed to be in total anarchy. Ever since the two had joined the autobots, their sparks appeared to be suffering from a shattered bond. The fact they were spark split made it nearly impossible what kind of bond it had been, and the twins refused to speak of it. The most Ratchet could do was guess.

He'd always assumed that it had been their creator bond that caused the damage, as their parents had been killed early on in their life, but more and more Ratchet was beginning to rethink that hypothesis.

He'd momentarily considered the idea of a spark mate, but had quickly discarded that. Spark mating would be near impossible for spark split twins, and even if they did, the death of their mate would have killed them almost immediately.

Two sparks meant the twins felt everything twice as strongly. The death of a mate would have literally driven them insane to the point of death.

And yet there was that minuscule chance that their split sparks would actually be able to better withstand a severed bond.

The likelihood Sideswipe and Sunstreaker could survive the death of a mate was even lower than them living past conception. A likelihood of .000193%.

Ratchet thought back on the orn Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had joined the autobots. It was one of the bloodiest days the war had ever seen.

The destruction of Flotilla.

The neutral city had been decimated, the community of femmes and sparklings trying to stay out of the war were slaughtered.

That one battle had condemned their race to near extinction. Bumblebee had been the only sparkling to survive the massacre.

The twins had been there that day.

They hadn't attacked Flotilla. Pit no, even they weren't capable of something like that. They'd been fighting elsewhere when the attack came.

By the end of the battle, the twins had somehow made it to the middle of the city, a mass of destruction in their wake.

Ratchet hadn't been there for the battle, but he'd seen the aftermath.

It was nothing like he'd ever seen. The bodies of innocent femmes and sparklings had been devastating, but the state of the corpses the twins had made was enough to make even him purge his tanks.

It was absolute slaughter. They weren't even corpses anymore. No, they were bloody piles of twisted metal, tossed to the side like garbage. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had torn through the decepticon forces without remorse.

There were bodies with all their limbs ripped off, some headless, many with their chests ripped out. He had seen a con with his own arm impaled in his head, his sparkcase twisted open like a pealed organic fruit.

Another had been ripped clean in half, both pieces mounted on the large spinal column of a seeker.

Others had been literally turned inside out.

The twins themselves hadn't said a word, simply staring off, dead eyed. They looked like ghosts, like mechs who'd lost everything, their only purpose being revenge. And Ratchet believed it.

More and more he believed it.

The revival of Megatron had only solidified that notion. The agony in their sparks had escalated a hundred-fold at the news.

Megatron had obviously killed someone extremely close to them. The question was, who?