XI.
Rising Empire
The sound of whirrs and clicks here and there had stirred Persephone from her slumber.
Her eyes opened slowly, adjusting to her surroundings as she rubbed the sleep crust from them. God her back hurts and Persephone didn't dare to sit up. Not yet. Her body felt stiff and when she had glanced down she understood why.
She had slept in the same position, like a dead person. Persephone groaned in annoyance. God she really hated this shit so much; being sick, her heavy body and pretty much everything at this point.
The young woman struggled to sit as her body was weighed by gravity, attempting to chain her down upon the mattress.
"Be careful," the voice that she adored so much had said to her, his hand holding her and the other on her back as he assisted her.
He held Persephone as he fixed the pillows, before letting her lean on them. She only had two pillows and she noticed how they had multiplied. He probably stole them. That was the only logical solution to this.
She opened her eyes—when had she closed them?—gazing at him and her heart sunk at the sight. His real body was with the sparklings, taking care of them and it looked fine. However, his holomatter avatar looked absolutely tired.
There were dark circles underneath his crimson eyes, his hair that was neatly pulled back was dishevelled. "What happened to you?" Persephone asked, her hand reaching out as they felt heavy. Her actions had the warlord looking crushed and she wondered if what she did had disgusted them.
She falters, deciding to pull back.
To her surprise, he takes her hand in his large ones and all she can do was watch as Megatron placed her tiny hand against his cheek, leaning into her touch.
"Shouldn't I ask you that?" He weakly laughed, voice breaking. "What happened to you, sweetspark?"
"I got sick, that's what." She chuckled. "You seem awfully affectionate." Persephone points out, stroking his cheek with her thumb.
Megatron chuckled at her words, leaning and placing a soft kiss upon her cheek. "I'm making you something to consume, it should be done by now."
Her heart hammers in her chest at what he did.
God did he just kissed her cheek?
She was sick, but Persephone could've sworn her body had given its last 'hoora!' and was convinced that she would die in a matter of seconds. Persephone didn't mind. That kiss, the only kiss she definitely would ever receive from him, had her heart jumping out of her chest.
She closed her eyes in bliss.
Persephone wished he'd do that more.
The young woman felt his hand on her shoulder, shaking her awake gently and she sees him sitting on the bed beside her. In his hand was a metal pot, where he got the kitchenware, Persephone didn't know. It was steaming, smoke coming from it. He stirs the contents in it before offering her a spoon.
The food makes her stomach churn, bile threatening to yeet itself out of her throat.
It wasn't because of how he cooked it, no. The soup looked alright. It was her lack of appetite because of the fever that made her like this. Weakly she blew on the spoon and once she thinks it was cool enough, she ate the soup.
When the liquid met her tongue, it melt in a creamy texture. Megatron had cooked her some crab and corn soup, she weakly peeks at the pot in his hand. Persephone could see bits and pieces of corn and artificial crab strips in it.
"I didn't think you could cook, Megsy." Persephone mused.
"I only followed the instructions from the plastic," Megatron laughed, blowing several times on the spoon before offering it to her. "I take it, it's to your liking? My apologies, this is all I can put together that you can consume."
"I love it," She moaned as he spoon-fed her. "I'd even say you're a great cook."
They both chuckle as he fed her in silence. When her stomach had enough, she told him she was full. Persephone reached out to his hand, holding it in her grasp. Her cheeks warm, but she doubts it could be seen from how sick she was.
Megatron scoots closer, putting his bare hand on her forehead. "How are you feeling?" He asked, looking at her with genuine sincerity.
"Like shit," Persephone said. "But, it should be gone soon... hopefully. How are you?"
The warlord smiles at her. "I am fine."
Her stomach turns and ties into knots. Her body began to shiver, something she couldn't control, and she knew it wasn't because she was feeling chilled. Persephone's brows furrowed as saliva started to fill her mouth. The insides of her cheek started to taste salty and she flung herself to the floor.
The moment she fell, vomit emits from her mouth as her stomach purged itself.
It fell from her lips as she closed her eyes, letting it all out. It ran through her tongue, leaving a bitter and gross aftertaste. She wanted to stop, but the taste of it vomit coaxed her insides to reveal itself in the open. It felt like an eternity as bile escaped her, when it only had been a few seconds.
She didn't know when she stopped but by the time she came into her senses, she was being held by Megatron. Her hands weren't even touching the ground anymore, saliva mixed with vomit dripping from her mouth.
With shaky breath, she sighed leaning against his chest.
"I'm sorry for that," Persephone muttered wiping her spit, but instead it only smears on her face. "I don't feel so good, Megsy."
He soothes her, letting go of her hair—when did he hold her hair back?—and rub circles on her back. When her vision stopped spinning, Persephone saw her purged insides a feet away from where she sat. When she looked up at him, she can see a mixture of frustration and concern in his face.
Was she burdening him?
Probably. He was a warlord, his expertise were to conquer planets and waging a war for his own people. Taking care of a sick human was never on his list. So, saying that she was burdening him would be an understatement.
But Persephone couldn't help it. If she could, she would definitely take care of herself like she did before. Unfortunately, she didn't know how to in this environment in an unknown area.
The thought of relying on him for everything revolted her.
She didn't want to burden anyone...
Especially him.
Persephone felt weak. So, weak that Megatron had to carry her back to her bed where the warlord covered her with the blanket she had thrown away earlier. She watched him clean up her own vomit and she felt so bad and wished she had been the one cleaning up after her own mess. It was only fair that way, alas the her flesh was weak as she was forced upon the mattress.
Megatron had given her a cup of water and when she held it in her hands, it was cold.
She sipped at first, letting the coolness of the liquid chill her insides before gulping it all down in one go. With a sigh she placed the cup beside her. It was really bothering her how tired Megatron looked.
As I'd he hadn't slept at all.
"How was your sleep?" Persephone asked.
It seemed to caught him off guard as his holoform stumbled dissipating, his metal body stilled, before it appeared once more. "What?" Megatron asked his holomatter avatar looking tired than before.
"I asked how your sleep was," She repeated. "That is... if you did sleep, didn't you?"
"My recharge cycle is not your concern, Persephone," Megatron answered, his holoform dissipating completely. The metal giant stands from where he is, speaking to the sparklings as they all ran out of the cave leaving the two of them alone. "So, why is it that you ask?"
She shrugged. "Is it wrong to ask the well-being of my... the well-being of the father of my children?"
Fuck she almost said husband and it was a good thing she had stopped herself otherwise she would simply die in the place where she lay. She mustn't get carried away lest what friendship they had be ruined.
She should be more careful.
He laughs at her words as he walks towards her. He sits by her bed looking at her as fatigue seemed to eat away from him like a parasite.
"I refuse to tear my optics away from you," Megatron huffed, his chassis rumbling. "Especially when you are bed-ridden, femme. Ironic that you ask about my health when you yourself are plagued with illness."
Persephone rolled her eyes. "Obviously, I'd ask. You appointed me as your medic, remember?" She laughed and he snickered, reminding him of his past actions. "Besides, you are the Decepticon Leader, so, your condition is my responsibility too, no?"
"You are too kind, Persephone," He coos at her as he lowers himself to the ground, his face near the bed placed on top of his hands, arms stretched and bent as he laid on his stomach.
She can see his pedes behind him, swinging slowly as if he was someone propped on the bed in a sleepover. And Persephone was sure that this was the hundredth arrow of cupid to pierce her heart from how adorable he looked.
The young woman shifts her foot, maneuvering her lower body to pull up the clipboard she kept beneath the covers.
"What in the pits are you doing?" He asked and she merely shush him as she focused.
Once her fingers graze the object she wished to have, she grabs it as flipping through the papers until she stopped on her finished masterpiece.
"Here! I made it for you." Persephone smiled widely , only to have a massive cough fit, as she held out the drawing of him. The one she had worked on when existential crises had plagued her.
Afterwards, when the warlord wouldn't look or wasn't awake, she would draw and have it finished. Supposedly, the young woman planned on showing it to him yesterday. However, she had fallen ill.
So, better late than never.
There was a surprised look on his face as his optics took in the sight of her creation. And her heart sinks when Megatron frowned, still staring at the image. He had no response, for once in such a time. Instead, he looked away again.
She laughed awkwardly. "It's alright if you don't like it or think arts and anything to do with it is... a waste of time," Persephone forced a smile as she retrieved the clipboard. "I just thought that you would like to see what I have done."
The young woman smiled sadly and was about to toss it aside with near defeat. Her actions were stopped short when a giant claw clamped around her arm that held the art piece.
Giant claw clamped around her arm that held the art piece.
Tense with surprise, Persephone glanced up at him. The tyrant's claw was piercing at her skin, but was careful in the action. Her heart hums at the physical contact.
His voice was distant as his gaze in the picture. "No…keep it, someplace safe."
"What? But I thought–"
"Please?"
She fell quiet at the word, never imagining in her life that he would say anything but that word. Persephone slowly looked back at her artwork, confused. Did he actually, like it? She didn't notice the warlord's cheeks turning a certain shade of blue.
Eventually, with a small nod, Persephone tugged her arm out of his grasp. "Alright."
Persephone looks at the drawing she had made. It wasn't the best work she had created, she wasn't used to doing traditional art since all she always did was drawing digitally. However, her ego had been stroked that he honoured her art.
She takes a sudden sharp inhale, her nose twitching with an invisible itch as her body tensed.
There is a pause.
A moment where the entire world freezes and time no longer exists. Then a slow soft exhale escapes her lips as if a small sigh of relief as everything falls back into its natural pace never missing a beat. Her muscles relaxing as she did so.
A smile follows the breath like she knows that a small victory has been won. Persephone placed the clipboard beside her by the pillow.
Then suddenly with complete loss of control another deep inhale before the small explosion of breath releases itself from her mouth. The air forcing itself so violently there is no stopping it. A dainty sniffle resonates within the cave and quiet again.
"Excuse me," Persephone sniffed, wiping her nose with the shirt she used to blow her nose with.
Megatron laughed at her actions, wiping the coolant that formed in his optics as he did so. She then noticed his cheeks that seemed to glow a blue shade. Was he blushing? The flustered look always did suited him.
"How adorable you truly are," He cooed at her once more, the sharp tip of his digit tilting her chin towards him.
She chucked.
Tho, she was thankful that the paper was thick enough to not show the sad-excuse of a poem. She had made it, letting her heart out of her ribcage pouring itself into the parchment. Persephone can feel that love she have for him turn I a burden.
Always having to hide it away in fear that he would shame her and if any person were to know, she would be crucified.
She keeps it in a bottle, buried within the very depths of her heart where neither man nor cybertronian could know unless she let the secrets fall past her lips. Megatron, the very being whom she had loathed as a child only to grow attached to as she grew up.
Persephone had been a fan of Transformers since she was little, that was no secret. Her first crush was Optimus Prime and that was a secret she had buried years ago and as child, she had hated the warlord. After all, who could be amazed at someone for being bad and wanting to destroy worlds?
How ironic that she fell in love with the very being she had despised as she grew older. The young woman had concluded that it was because she didn't understand him back then.
As she grew up, she started seeing things his way, understanding his actions and whatnot. They weren't excused, of course. However, she understood him.
And Persephone was content with the idea of loving both Optimus and Megatron from a far because they weren't real. So, when she had ended up here, the feeling came back with a vengeance.
And God was it unbearable.
The sexual frustration that she had accumulated within her was this close to bursting. That even the slightest touch from the warlord had her daydreams plagued with the silver tyrant pressing her against the mattress as he bred her.
It on added to her frustrations.
If only she could have some sort of relief or a 'fuck buddy' at this point. Persephone was no virgin, she had her fair share of experiences but every sexcapades she had wasn't as great as she expected. It was good, yes, but it wasn't great. No-strings-attached-agreements had to end because her sex partners grew too attach despite both of their agreement.
Right now, just right now, even if she didn't receive an earth-shattering orgasm that was fine. All she needed was enough friction or pleasure to push all the thoughts away or something. She didn't know what to do.
God help her keep her self-control because Megatron was already a snack and now he's starting to look like a buffet and she was and, at any time at this point, Persephone was going to sink in her own depravities. In the first movie, Megatron said that he can smell Sam Witwicky and she had panicked—and sometimes the thrill that went with it would make it worse—whenever she got wet. However, seeing as he didn't seem to notice, Persephone felt relieved.
How the hell was she going to explain it? That a mere human was so attracted towards a different species—in love with him.
How can she describe Megatron? He was wonderful.
How she could get lost in those crimson, hellfire-like optics when they bore into her very soul. How the sound of his voice awakens a harlot within her as butterflies swarm her belly. How seeing him places a smile upon her face. How he meant so much to her.
Dear god, she loves him. Persephone desired Megatron, was that so bad?
A feeling abruptly halts her thoughts.
There was tugging within her chest, pulling her attention away from the warlord. At first she thought it was because she was going to puke again, but the insides of her mouth didn't turn salty nor did she feel the need to hurl her insides again.
It poked at her, nagging as it demanded her attention to be given towards them. It felt far, inching closer at such a fast pace. It settled an uneasiness within her.
The unknown beckoned for her.
Her body tensed as she weakly turned to the warlord with a frightened look. "Someone's coming, Megsy!"
— ixi —
He already sensed her fear through their bond.
Megatron pressed a brief kiss on the very top of her helm as he stood, walking away from her.
"Megatron, wait! Don't leave... please" She had called out, voice growing fainter with every word. He couldn't bring her for whatever might be coming for them could hurt her.
Yet, he couldn't bare the fear that threatened to devour him from her end of the bond.
"You are ill," He growled. "For your safety, stay here inside."
"But I'm safe when I'm with you," She said, this time faintly. Had his audios not heard that, he wouldn't have felt his spark explode into pieces. Persephone didn't mean anything about it, probably scared of being alone, but somehow the neediness I her voice had pierced him.
As if it hurt to part with her.
Megatron growls, stomping back to her. Once he reached her, he cradled her gently in his servo. He wasn't angry at her, he was just irritated at everything. The lack of recharge catching up to him. Fatigue seducing him with its promises of bliss as his systems begged for him to rest.
He couldn't do that. Not when Persephone relied on him and needed his help. What if she were to need his aid while he slept? The warlord couldn't bear to let his conjunx endura suffer when he could help.
No.
He will not let her suffer.
His cannon activates as it hummed to life, in his other servo, Persephone's snuggles in his touch. Seeing her laying at the very middle of his palm, so fragile and small. It filled him with the need to hide her from the world. To shield the young human femme from any incoming danger, but how can he do that when she loved being near him?
The sparkling runs in as they cowered and sticker behind the pedes of the former Decepticon leader. Megatron stomps out, the sparkling following close by, shieling Persephone from getting soaked by the waterfall as the passed through it.
He stormed outside defensively, growling. "Who dares disturb me and my kin?"
The rain had stopped, but the sky was still dark and gloomy. Megatron couldn't see anything but thick grey clouds rolling by, at first. His audio receptors picking up the sound of a low roar, but not of a beast. More of the roar of an engine, something powerfully made. One black shape appeared on the horizon from the dense clouds, a dot in the sky that grew as it came quickly closer.
But it was not alone. Not too soon after did more shapes appear from the cover of the dark clouds. Snarling, Megatron points his cannon towards the direction of the flying vehicle.
Cybertronians.
He fired a warning shot, purposefully missing. However, it seemed to not mind. Only going faster as it did so. The approaching dots became a flock of jets and military grade choppers. They circled the camp, and the warlord had to cover Persephone so as not to expose her upon the elements.
It might worsen her illness.
The sparklings cowered behind him. As their creator, he will protect them. No Autobot or human must ever lay their digits upon his family. And, it is clear that these Cybertronians had picked the wrong person to fight. Megatron was a former gladiator of Kaon, so, this should be easy for him.
Megatron stood taller with a growl. "Reveal yourselves to me. Bow before your new master!" He demanded, voice going deeper.
There was a spark of lust within his chassis as it spread throughout his form and her briefly looked down at Persephone, only for her to tear her gaze away from him. He felt embarrassment from her through the bond, but he pushed those feelings aside. He would deal with them, and her, later.
Now, was the time to establish order.
The dozen flight vehicles stopped their circling and hovered in their particular spots. Nine of them have different models of Earth military fighter jets, and the other four were human-made helicopter models. They stood in the air for a moment, before they began to twist and fold. Metal body parts sliding against each other as each transformed into their bi-pedal form.
Simultaneously, the new Cybertronians—whom were all mechs—kneeled on one knee and lowered their helms before Megatron, bowing to him. "We have come to serve our true great, powerful master and ruler." The thirteen new soldiers equally recited.
"All hail Lord Megatron!"
He was thrilled at the group of obedient and strong followers, each he surveyed with his own optics. Upon the nod of approval, they stood and he smirk in triumph.
The new age of Decepticons had came into existence.
"How? None of my army had survived and the Allspark has been destroyed," Megatron spoke. "I wish to know how all of you came to be."
One of them stepped forward, a mech with different shades of black, easily able to disguise himself in darkness if it wasn't for the small neon green secondary colors of his that came in lines. The mech's height was small, stopping around Megatron's shoulder, tho his wings were wide as it protrude from the seeker's back.
"My Lord, We have developed our cognitive abilities about two orbital cycles ago," The seeker answered, his voice laced with a non-rhotic accent. "The creatures of this planet had brought us into existence through their experiment with energon harvested on this planet. It worked briefly before our systems had permanently shut down."
"So, if that were to be the case, then how are you all alive?" Megatron asked the seeker.
"We were summoned by a greater power. A being with a carrier's touch," The black and neon green mech answered. "But she appeared to us in the image of those insects, asking as to where you were and informing us of who you are. Advising us to find you. Thus, the being brought us to life."
"The moment we had came into our physical senses," A black chopper mech piped in. "Under the order of the greater power, we wasted no time in developing an alternate form and escaped the feeble facilities with nothing to remain."
"Oh?" The warlord's interest had peeked. "And what did this... being ordered you to do?"
"To leave no survivors within the insect colonies from where we have emerged," Another replied— a slightly shorter mech. He stood out, with his plating armor a light blue shade and orange optics; all of them had orange optics. "And the main objective was to find and swear our allegiance to you."
"We came as soon as we had a lock on your signal, but it was longer due to the cloaking pattern you have in the area." The black chopper praised. "I must say, it was well done, my Lord."
He chuckled, nodding his helm in agreement. These new soldiers had manners.
There was a small squeak that came from Megatron's servos.
"My Lord, there is an insect upon your servos," The black and neon green seeker pointed out, stepping forward his claws outstretched. "Allow me to rid you of the parasite."
He growled, grabbing the seeker's outstretched servo and crushed it. His grip shaking in rage. How dare this lowly being touch his sparkmate—his conjunx endura. The mech howls in pain, dropping to his knees as Megatron released his hold on him.
The seeker looks at him in pain and confusion. "Lord Megatron, the insect it–"
"She belongs to me!" Megatron sneered, holding the human femme in his servos possessively as Persephone curled into a ball in his grasp. "If you wish to keep your precious limb intact. No. If any of you wish to keep your sparks in tact, then you are not to lay a single digit upon the femme. Am I understood?" The warlord spat, growling as he held her closer to his chassis.
A series of "Yes, Lord Megatron.", "Of course, My Lord.", and "Understood, Lord Megatron." As they bowed in obedience. The warlord glared at the black and neon green mech.
Megatron looks down at Persephone to see her struggling to sit up. Gently he helps her up with a digit.
The jet nodded once, reluctantly. "My apologies, Lord Megatron. It will not happen again." The seeker vows as he backed away, bowing at the silver Decepticon while doing so.
"Unless any of you have further objections, you will all provide your designations once you have come up with them. You will all follow any command I assign to you with no rejection of command," Megatron ordered, looking at each and every one of them. "In this new world there is still much I have yet to discover, this human femme in my grasps is of great help. For the better of your helms and sparks you will take my warnings and orders greatly. Is that understood?"
The mechs nodded in understanding and agreement towards the warlord's words.
"My Liege, there are others who will arrive soon," Another chopper says—a blue and black mech. "They were given land vehicles and will take a longer time period to reach here.
He hums "Very well. Two of you are to escort them here. The rest of you shall set up a perimeter around the cloaked area. No insects are allowed in or out of the area without us knowing of it." As they dispersed on their tasks, he looked down at Persephone.
Like a switch, his tone and demeanour changes.
Softly, Megatron spoke to the young woman in his servo . "See, this is why I told you to stay inside."
The young human femme in his grasp coughed, smiling softly at him.
"And I told you that I feel much more safer with you," Persephone said softly, hunched over as she wrapped her covers around herself. "I don't want a reiteration of what happened last time when I was left behind."
His spark sank at her words. Was she talking about the time when the Autobots had ambushed them? Persephone had looked away, Megatron couldn't see her small tiny face. However, he felt a surge of guilt and embarrassment circling within him, it doesn't eat him out alive, but it's constant presence disturbs him. It took a moment for him to realize it was her feelings that he was experiencing.
Had she harboured such guilt during the incident?
Why?
"What happened 'last time' wasn't because of you," Megatron said as he held both Blackfire and Starfire's servos in his free one. "Persephone, cease to put the blame on yourself."
"I tried to find a reasonable answer, but somehow it still leads back to me," Her voice wavered as sadness pools in his chassis. "Had I not stayed behind and listened to you... Megatron, I saw you..."
Persephone looks up at him weakly, only then does he noticed the paleness of her flesh—paler than before.
She looked so frail.
"You would've died... if I hadn't miraculously healed you the first time, you would've died." She wept as her lips quivered, voice shaky. "And despite that, you were close to dying and I saw it with my own eyes, don't you know that I felt so scared because I–"
"I thought..." With a shaky breath, Persephone inhaled slowly collecting herself once more. "I thought that I had lost you."
I saw you die and held your lifeless form as Primus sent death to fetch you, Megatron thought as his spark recalled the events. He wanted to tell her that, but he couldn't. Not without telling her how she had come back to life.
He remembered the words she had written in her poem.
"My love for you knew no bounds,
Like the vastness of space.
Neither words nor any language can show
The intensity of my love for you."
Persephone had wrote down. He figured that, maybe, it really was for him. That this little femme had truly harboured such a thing for him. Red, purple and silver colors—his color scheme. He was a silver cybertronian, with purple hues here and there. The only thing that was red about him were his optics.
We're there any mech that had that color besides him? And if there were, Megatron didn't know. However, an inkling feeling told him he was right.
And perhaps there was no lie in her words.
Had he truly made her feel that way?
Wasn't she aware of the heinous crime that he did? No. She was aware, she said it herself that she had witnessed and had knowledge of his past actions. Yet, despite his servos being stained by countless energons from his own people, Persephone had chosen to look at him with... understanding.
It wasn't fear and she didn't walk around him as if she would trip over a live energon mine. No, she proceeded to present herself as is.
A wretched and weak human.
Neither words nor any language can show the intensity of her love for him as she had claimed, but in that moment her true feelings had shone through in such a raw manner before it was hidden away swiftly. And, maybe, she had channelled the rawness of that emotion and let it make itself known on paper.
And he understood her clearly.
She had been afraid to witness the same thing he did towards her. The femme in his grasp didn't outright said it, but she clearly implied that she intends to stay with him to at least keep an optic on him. Megatron wasn't bothered by it, it just meant that he can have her close and around him as well.
But what did bother the warlord was the raging emotions from the sick femme that sat hunched over at the middle of his palm.
Persephone was silent but he felt fear and guilt merging within him as her hands shook, something small and wet drops on to his palm—she sobbed. The feelings he felt were unbearable and agonizing, but his tanks drop at the knowledge that the femme felt this.
Persephone, for someone so small and fragile, to be burdened by such intense emotions even if she was ill.
His spark breaks for her.
"Oh, sweetspark." He cooed softly, soothing the back of her body with the digit connected to the servo that held her as he turned to hide her from the prying optics of the other mechs.
Megatron was the only one allowed to look at her.
She was brave, embracing the feelings of adoration towards the warlord. He applaud her for that. Looking back, he was surprised at how blind he was at her shameless display of affections.
And now was, perhaps, the time he should come to terms with how she had nestled so comfortably within his spark. It was the only thing to do, especially if his conjunx endura had felt the same way.
Or as her kind, those humans, would label her.
His wife.
— ixi —
She lays on the bed, Megatron promising to just be outside after returning her back inside.
Persephone couldn't blame him and, in a way, was thankful that she was placed on the cushions of her mattress again. Her ass was starting to hurt from all the sitting she did.
Ares sat beside her bed, his yellow optics drooping every now and then. The silver sparkling clicks at her but she only smiled at him, weakly reaching out to touch his face—her hands small in comparison. He's grown and perhaps cybertronian children had a faster growth rate compared to humans.
It was obvious he was sleepy and she had told him countless times to rest. It was probably because he didn't understand her. Persephone hated the thought that her own child would take care of her when she was sick.
That didn't feel right, at all.
It should be the other way around—a parent taking care of their child or children
Persephone hated being sick, her emotions were much more displayed and she had kicked herself several times for the clinginess she had shown.
A metal pail snuggled beside her. It was big enough for her to throw up to. But, right now, she just wanted to lean on the cushions and rest. The sparkling snuggles to her touch.
Coven and the twins were with Megatron, every now and then, one of them would come in to check on her. But mostly, all Persephone can do was lay in bed. Resting because her body demanded it from her.
One thing she had noticed was that Cybertronians were loud. She can hear them from within as they introduced themselves, only faintly, however.
They chattered among themselves.
However, once Persephone had picked up on Megatron's voice, she listened to it. Selective hearing; the ability to listen to a single speaker while in a crowded or loud environment.
Something she had picked up from a young age.
The sound of footsteps can be heard and when Persephone turned her head, she saw the sparklings—all three of them. "Mama!" Coven calls out as her attention focused on her daughter.
"Hello, darling," She smiled softly.
"Mama, why are you sick?" The red sparkling asked.
"I don't know," Persephone answered. "I just... am. But don't worry. Mama will be up and going in no time." She chuckled only for it to turn into a coughing fit. Ares whirrs beside her and she can feel the worry from them.
"Mama, when will you get better?"
"Soon, my dear."
Coven beams at her, clapping her hands excitedly as she expressed her joy. She turns to her sibling, chirping and whirring excitedly. And just like that, the four of them made happy noises.
Right, they can understand cybertronian.
Laughter erupted outside which caught their attention for a brief moment. Persephone watched as the four of them glanced at each other and spoke their mother tongue before Coven turns to her. "Mama, who are the people papa are with?" She asked, yellow optics wide with confusion.
Persephone shrugged her shoulder. Even she couldn't answer that. The young woman didn't know what to say. What should she answer her own daughter?
"They're papa's... friends," She decided as she chose her words carefully.
She didn't want to outright say they're his army. How the hell would she explain that to her child? Persephone knew she could never shelter them, but she'd be damned if she just told them that they're in the middle of a war.
Her heart sinks at the thought.
These sparklings were orphaned because their parents had died. Now, since the war for Cybertron is evidently still on going, there was a high chance that they would be orphaned. Again. The possibilities of Megatron, her or both of them being ripped away from them were far from nothing.
In the time she had spent here, Persephone had grown to care for them as if they were her own—her little daughters and son.
The thought of possibly leaving them was devastating.
She had to look up and take a few deep breaths. That possibility may happen, but that wasn't today. So, why should she worry about it? Persephone had to stop overthinking otherwise the moments she had experienced would simply slip through her fingers.
But she couldn't ignore the impending doom that hung over their heads.
Persephone smiled sorrowful at the four sparklings. "Please know that no matter what happens, mama will always love you and be with you," She said with a sigh.
The sparkling chirr and whirr, Coven spoke for them all—unaware of the dangers this world held. "We love you too, mama!"
She didn't think that she'd be a mother at twenty-three. Her goal was to party and enjoy life, that was and what Persephone had been doing. To think that she had been a mother at such a young age. They may be adopted, but nonetheless her children.
Persephone wondered how her mother and sister would react. How her two best friends would tease her about who the co-parent is. God, they would never shut up for days.
The young woman laughed at the thought as she sighed.
It left a certain emptiness in her heart.
What would happen to her now that Megatron had an army?
A part of her was happy for him. She knew Megatron was probably ecstatic to have his own kind surround him again, but what happens to her now? He claimed that they were friends, but now that he is in the company of his own species, would he see her as a lesser being? Persephone tried reassuring herself that, that won't happen.
Because he is Megatron.
Did he at least meant it when he called her his friend?
She knew him and at the same time she didn't. He was like the moon, always keeping a part of him hidden and it pissed her off knowing that one way or another she would be nothing more than a forgotten companion.
That won't happen, but the thoughts in her head knew the strings and series of words to convince her.
It was bound to happen sooner or later.
Persephone just didn't expect it to be this soon.
She noticed that all the sparklings cowered at the other side of the bed, their bodies appearing smaller than they are as they trembled. What happened to them?
She sat up, looking at them confused. Why were they scared? Then, only did she hear Megatron's footsteps, tho they seem heavier at the moment. Where they scared of Megatron? Why?
She opens her mouth as she turned her head. "Megsy–"
The words die in her throat as she stared at the behemoth metal creature, frozen in fear. He wasn't Megatron. Instead, it was probably one of the new comers. Persephone didn't know what they looked like since at the time she was in their presence, she had been too weak to move and had simply lay down in Megatron's servo with her back turned to them.
She had mostly kept her eyes shut at the time.
This... this cybertronian was the color of peppermint blue as he gazed down at them with orange optics. His frame was much more bigger and he could easily squish her if he wanted to.
The whimpers of the sparklings shakes her out of the shackles of fear as Persephone pushed her body to move, standing and blocking the sparklings from the giant mech. The same way she did when she stood in front of Megatron before Optimus had slapped her away like a bug. She glares at the alien, looking down on it.
She would've been nice had it not startled her children.
Persephone watched the cybertronian's actions carefully. The tips of her fingers tingled, but she paid it no mind when the metal alien only stepped closer. He crouched down. He didn't say a word, and just quietly observed her like she was some fascinating object under a microscope.
She can faintly hear the buzzing of electricity.
Did it have a damaged wire or something?
It's helm turns as it observed the inside of the cave slowly, before turning to her with a confused look.
Her glare deepened.
She saw a flash of recognition in his orange optics before the gigantic metal behemoth bowed before her. "Maker," the cybertronian rumbled, avoiding her gaze.
Confused, Persephone asked. "What?"
The fuck did that mean? Maker? Did she hear that correctly? What did the mech meant by that? Bamboozled, she opened her mouth to ask–
"WHO GAVE YOU THE AUTHORITY TO BE HERE?!" Megatron bellowed furiously as he stood by the entrance of the cave, the metal behemoth flinched. "Get. Out. NOW!"
Persephone watched as the mech turned to her, giving a bow before swiftly leaving. Her body relaxed as she sighed, she turns to the sparklings checking on them making sure they were okay.
Oh, her poor babies.
Frightened.
She felt a presence behind her and she didn't need to turn around to know who it was. "He didn't inflict any damage upon you, did he?" Megatron asked softly as he calmed the sparklings as well. "I will obliterate him if need be."
Persephone shook her head.
"Thankfully, no. However, the sparklings were scared and I did what I had to as their mother," She answered. "Also, he... um, called me maker? I don't know what that's supposed to mean."
When she turns her head to look at him, there was a look of surprise on his face.
A glimpse of something purple by her hands caught her attention but when she turned, it had disappeared. Her eyes looked around to see if there was anything the might cause anything that produced the color purple, but found nothing.
She must be tripping balls.
The heaviness of her body made itself known, as if it sensed that danger was nowhere to be seen. Persephone slowly got back to bed with Megatron helping her in any way he could.
"How are you feeling?" Megatron asked her as she sighed when her head hits the coldness of the pillow.
"Still like shit," Persephone answered "But not as worse as before."
"That is great news."
"It is, isn't it?"
She felt something cold pressed against her cheek—his digit. Tho, it made her shiver from the sudden chill, it was more than welcome. She opened her eyes—when had she closed them?—to look at him.
"Tonight, you will be better acquainted with them," Megatron said as he smiled at her softly. "On the first night a new army is formed, as it was on Cybertron, there shall always be a congregation. It's purpose is to get all the troops and members to be associated with one another."
She sighed. "Megatron, I wish I can go to the part, but I am still sick." Persephone answered right before she sneezed.
"But it is for your benefit," He told her. "It is about time that you let your position be known to them that you are of equal to me and above then."
Her mouth opened as she prepared to answer him only to pause.
"Did... did you just say equals?" Persephone asked, looking at him surprised.
He raised an optic ridge. "Yes. After all, you are my equal, no?"
Her? His equal? Did Megatron not see her as some tiny human anymore? Did Megatron really see her as his... friend?
Did that mean he wouldn't dispose her just because he had an army?
Her heart melts and her face probably got more flushed than it was before as her lips stretched in a smile. The feeling of bliss washing over her as it cradled her body in its hands. Persephone didn't think that she would be this happy to hear him say those words.
Between what is said and not meant and what is meant but not said, most of love is lost.
However, because her love for him was beyond the comprehension of words, Persephone had decided to fall silent.
If only things like this could stay the same.
— ixi —
"Lord Megatron?"
Megatron jerked awake, sitting up and turning his head to the sound sharply. He growled when he saw one of the seekers, an orange and maroon colored mech, Flamestrike. "What is so important that you had disturbed my recharge?"
"Apologies, my Lord." The seeker bowed respectfully. "The grounders have only limited resources left and it is enough to sustain a few in this camp. We are hoping to ask you for a scout to the nearest outpost for replenishment."
He sighed, frowning.
Surely he thought these new soldiers were well equipped to manage themselves on a scouting mission or perish on a confrontation with the wrong group of humans. Then again, he did consumed the energon he had looted with Persephone. Even if he shared them, they wouldn't be enough.
He glanced down at his side briefly, seeing the small form of Persephone as she lay pale.
Flamestrike tilted his helm as Megatron crouched on a knee and nudged at the human insect as if inspecting to see if it was dead. "Is there, something wrong, my lord?"
The tyrant frowned deeper with a rumble as the femme coughed again, noticing how the sound she made seemed hoarse than before. Her core body temperature was also rising, seeing beads of salty sweat on her forehelm as she moaned in agitation and ache.
Megatron noticed how she only seemed to get worse as time had gone by. His sparkmate was sick and he needed to do something.
"The femme is unwell." Megatron rumbled, worry evident in his voice. "She will need proper supplies to cure her from her illness."
The seeker did not obviously understand, blinking at the sick human before back to his leader. "But the scout, sir. We certainly can't stay here long without–"
Megatron growled abruptly and swiftly stood to face Flamestrike, who yelped and dropped onto his hands and knees obediently and fearfully. "My human femme's needs are and must always be prioritized. Unless the lot of you like the stench of a dead organic surrounding us."
Flamestrike shook his helm furiously, keeping his helm down. "No, of course not, my Lord! We can retrieve whatever supplies are needed for the human's condition."
"Good." Megatron rumbled, standing up straighter, allowing Flamestrike to timidly stand as well.
He was about to speak, before the words die in his throat. He realized that perhaps none of these new troops knew what necessities human needed, and even he knew little of what they would need when they're ill. He frowned with a growl as he thought briefly.
This certainly would be a hassle.
Megatron could not leave her alone, and only he would know what to retrieve, but was unsure of who to leave with his conjunx endura—his wife. He was stuck in making a choice whether to stay behind or guide his soldiers, but had came up with a decision swiftly upon hearing another small sickly groan from Persephone.
The new Decepticons needed an example and his beloved needed a cure.
"Who is the most trusted among all of you?" Megatron asked, gazing at her frail form.
"My Lord, I'm sure all of us can be entrusted with your every word and order." The seeker chirped, confused at his words.
He shook his helm.
"And yet who can I trust with my co–" Megatron caught himself and cleared his throat. "Who can I entrust the safety of my human femme and the sparklings?"
The seeker held his tongue, thinking about what to reply. "I…I would assume any of us, could bear with watching over the sparklings and the flesh—well, human femme, my lord."
Megatron leaned in dangerously. "And if you could pick one?"
There was a long pause.
"Personally, I think any of the chopper soldiers are well equipped, or the grounder Ironbreaker." Flamestrike answered." Or, perhaps even our second-in-command, Noir."
Megatron took in the words of the mech, but had already made up his mind before the seeker could even spoke again.
"Very well." He glanced down at the girl as he spoke again. "Send in Noir, Ironbreaker, and Talon. One of each troop will be enough protection for her and them."
Confused, Flamestrike asked "For one human and the sparkling, sir? Isn't it a bit much for just a little–"
The warlord grabbed the seeker by his neck, his sharp digits digging threatening to tear his voice box. Megatron raised him, high enough that Flamestrike's pedes dangled above the ground. Looking at the pitiful struggling seeker as he looked at him boringly.
"The safety of my family is and must always be the priority and dare I say more important than I," Megatron spoke dangerously low as he glanced at Persephone lovingly, their sparklings slept around her as she too was in recharge. "None of you have the slightest idea what we have both been through."
He didn't want to disturb her.
The Decepticon leader turned to the gagging mech in his grasps. "I will not repeat myself," Megatron said, a hint of warning in his tone "Bring them to me."
Flamestrike nods and the moment he released his grip on the seeker's neck, the poor mech scrambled swiftly to do his bidding. Once he disappeared, Megatron walked over and crouched beside her sleeping form. Despite looking peaceful, he knew she was suffering.
He can feel it from her.
Megatron growled darkly, agitated by all that had happened. He would have to make the trip quick, as he would not risk keeping the weakened Persephone alone with the new troops he had yet to be accustomed and trusted with. He would keep his line of order over them all, but he also had to protect his sparkmate and their four offspring.
The longer this took, the weaker she would get. She needed proper medical attention, and first he must find the cure she requires. Otherwise, she would perish.
Persephone seemed somewhat fine when she's awake, but Megatron's spark aches at her struggle.
A part of him felt like he had failed her.
He vowed to keep her safe, to not let any harm befall upon her. And yet what happened? She grew ill in his care.
Persephone would no doubt say something along the lines of "Well, humans always get sick so it's normal."
But it still settled uncomfortably within him. To see her pale and close to the color she had been when she had died. What he'd give to suffer in her place instead.
He wanted to forget that day. The day she had died. Every now and then, he finds himself always looking at her. It wasn't just because she was pleasing to the optics but also because he was scared that everything had only been a figment of his imagination.
Megatron was terrified of the possibility that he might one day realize that he had lost his processors on the day she had died and was merely carrying her corpse around.
It was pitiful.
But oh so horrifying.
He was so distracted with staring over her that he didn't notice the mechs arrive.
"I have brought them for you, my lord." Flamestrike said, stirring the warlord from his worries.
He stood abruptly, looking at them as he stood tall. "Excellent. I am suspecting Flamestrike has briefed the three of you about what orders I have given, correct?" Megatron questioned as he glanced at said Decepticon who held his helm low in a respectful manner.
The three mechs bowed to him and nodded their helms in agreement.
"Yes, my Lord." Noir, the black and neon green mech, said as he stood to face his leader. "We will take good care and watch over the femme in your absence. It will be in good—pardon, she shall be in good hands. As well as the sparklings."
Megatron growled again, gritting his dentas.
He didn't truly trust them, or any of them, around his family, but he supposed that he would have to make the mission quick.
That way, he can return to her swiftly.
At this point, the Decepticon leader would rather have someone watch over her than leave her by herself. If something were to happen he would be sure to rid the helms of each and every one of them.
The silver mech walks over to Persephone's sleeping form and crouched down. He planted a kiss on each of the sparklings' helm, before he too planted a gentle and much more tender kiss upon the young human femme's forehelm.
His dermas lingered a second longer before he withdrawn.
Persephone continued to recharge, stars under her eyelashes as the cosmos weaves her dreams.
"I will not be long," Megatron rumbled, stroking her cheek. When he stood and looked up the three of her soon-to-be caretakers, he saw their widened optics.
He walks to them.
"Heed my warning for I will not hesitate to take all of your helms if I come back and find something wrong with her. Understood?" He threatened again as they nodded, keeping whatever opinions they had to themselves.
The warlord could care less at the moment.
Not when her health was on the line.
Giving one more glance down to the human femme, he pushed the three mechs aside to walk past them. He took his time in making sure that the scouts who would be coming with him were debriefed and ready. Taking casualties must be avoided and they will have to plan things more carefully.
The plan would be simple: Take what they needed and then leave.
He took his time, hoping that Persephone might wake up to see him off, at least. So that he could see those abyssal optics of hers that devoured him and his very spark one last time before he departs.
He waited at least thirty kliks before deciding that he had to go. If he didn't it would take him until the Earth's lunar dawn and he wanted to make sure Persephone was feeling better by then.
Her presence for the lunar cycle's event was important. Very important. Megatron would make it clear later that not only should his words are and should be followed, but hers as well. The warlord is aware that he had a second-in-command and Noir shoulders that responsibility.
However, Persephone had more authority than him.
After all, she was Megatron's human—his equal.
The warlord is aware that the new Decepticons loathe fleshlings, despite being created by them. To him, that was alright. If anything, that was even better. After all, the puny and pathetic creatures had rather been annoying and nonetheless bothersome.
But he wanted to make it clear that the human femme was an exception. That she must be exempted from that disgust.
For she was not just any human, she is his conjunx endura. Persephone had flee gleefully under his gaze, disrupted his thoughts, and travelled from his optics to his spark where she had reside.
And he knew that if he could the warlord would certainly force his spark to open with a blade, place her within, and seal his lacerations. In that way she may dwell there and never inhabit another.
Megatron didn't sense her stir awake and he wouldn't admit it, but he was disappointed that he had to leave without saying goodbye. After making sure that things would go according to plan, he transformed into his seeker's alt-mode and took to the skies.
An astrosecond hadn't passed yet his spark had already demanded to return back to her. Despite this, he pushed forward. He was a warlord. A leader.
The responsibilities of showing his soldiers—specifically his scouts—the ropes of where the ideal places to loot fell on to him. After all, if he wanted an army to be up to his standards, he would have to show them what he expects from them.
And so, he soared above along with the seekers. Going further and further away from Persephone—from their home.
Megatron misses her already.
End of Chapter XI