Author's Notes: Oh my goodness, I binge watched all of the first season of Transformers: EarthSpark in one night. I am an adult, I can make that choice, and I can regret that choice in the morning! And I am in love! I didn't think it would give me quite this many feels, but here we are. It also made me super inspired to write about it! I had no idea where this short piece was going when I started it. It ended up being a sort of deeper look between the lines of Megatron's character and his inner struggles, which I became obsessed with as I watched. I think there will only be two parts to this work, both sort of on the intense side, so if you aren't into war flashbacks and well… torture, you maaaaay want to give this one a skip. But this is our boy Megatron we're talking about. He can take it! Also, I assume I don't have to say this, but major spoilers for the final episode of Transformers: Earthspark! Also, sorry, I had to categorize this story just under G1 because there isn't an EarthSpark section on this website yet, and I of course couldn't click on any of the EarthSpark characters in the Characters list for the same reason. You all understand! Please favorite, comment to tell me what you think, and of course, enjoy! I'ma go rewatch the first season again before I finish the second half to this story!
The laser's searing blade ripped a scream from Megatron's voice box despite his denta clamped in determination to remain silent. That resolve went up in smoke, much like Wheeljack's many failed inventions.
His olfactory senses burned with the reek of melting plating and singed wires. He had already tested the restraints around his servos and peds until they were nearly rubbed raw of paint, but the pain bursting in his shoulder joint encouraged him to give it another desperate attempt. His bonds weren't any run of the mill Earth junk. This was made to withstand a Cybertronian's most desperate struggles. The berth at his back strut three times reinforced to maintain his larger than average weight. The dark lab had seen similar tortures before, very recently. The man responsible had clearly become very proficient at it.
Somewhere to his right, just over the buzz of the laser's attempt at amputating his servo, his ringing audio's detected a chuckle.
He forced his red optics open in defiance of the pain, determined to at least glare down his tormenter for as long as he could. An older human face, wrinkles popping behind an amused, sinister grin as he watched Megatron writhe. The human responsible for taking advantage of so many of Megatron's own soldiers, and most likely torturing them in a similar fashion. The heat of hatred in his Spark threatened to burn hotter than the laser mutilating his chassis. Were there more Decepticons here in this lab? Were they even still online? Maybe laying in pieces on a table amongst odds and ends? He should have been there to stop this butchery… He should have saved his people.
The human he only knew as "Mandroid" chuckled to himself, amused by some joke Megatron wasn't privy to. Then he fiddled with the controls before him with his stolen Cybertronian arm.
The Laser reacted to the man's tampering, the power doubling to saw deeper. Megatron gasped an agonized vent, light flooding his optics and fuzzing out reality. He could only hope Dorothy had escaped despite his weakness. He had already failed his Decepticons, he didn't know what he would do if he had failed Dorothy too.
Megatron wrapped as gently as he could on the cell entrance, the Con inside jumping in startled alarm.
They spun around in their small quarters, curtesy of GHOST, and winced all over again when they locked optics with him, having to look up to pull it off. "Lord Meg… I mean… Megatron. What do you want?" His ex-soldier, Breakdown, attempted to growl. Old habits died hard it seemed, because Breakdown still shook with intimidation.
Megatron tried to keep his gaze soft. It was one of the more challenging burdens he dealt with now adays. Prime was always reminding him to "Fix his faceplates," and that only tended to make his frown deepen in annoyance. He was well aware he was intimidating. It used to work a treat when he had nothing to do but command armies and try to conquer the universe. It failed to have the same helpful effect in "peace" time.
Somebot slammed against their cell, making Megatron look, and Breakdown jump. Across the cellblock, making a racket with only his chassis and the wall to work with, was one of the other five Stunticons, Wildrider. They had captured him not long after catching Breakdown. The others were still on the run. But now missing these two, those still at large could no longer combined to make the formidable bot Menasor. It was only a matter of time before they were hauled in too.
"Hey, Breakdown! Don't listen to that traitor! Cover your audios, rev your engine, tune him out!" Wildrider snarled. Breakdown looked to unsure of himself to do any of the three.
Megatron was ready to ignore the loud bot at his back, about to almost start his original line of questioning. But then he noted Breakdown's dim bio lines and flickering optics. "Have they served you your Energon ration's yet?"
Though still visibly unnerved, Breakdown couldn't help but scoff. "Worried about our appetites now?"
Megatron only stood silent, waiting for a less sarcastic answer.
Breakdown vented. "Still waiting. It's nothing new. GHOST agents like to 'forget.'" He finally relented with a defeated shrug.
Megatron tried not to visibly shake. "I'll see that corrected." He assured Breakdown.
Breakdown rose an optic ridge. "Why the concern NOW?" he demanded.
"I never stopped being concerned. I thought that was apparent with each visit I make to this cell block every day."
"Yeah, you say that to everybot here. But here we are, still rusting away." Breakdown grumbled.
"A parole hearing will be held soon." Megatron tried very hard not to scoff as he said it. The promise sounded just as hollow coming out of his own voice box as it did when Prime said it.
When Optimus Prime made the deal to work with the Earth Government agency GHOST to help "Contain" hostile Cybertronian threats, it was agreed any imprisoned would be held, strictly temporarily. Their intentions would be evaluated by a special board of human and Cybertronian peers, and their threat level would be determined. From there, they would be released to assist the cause, placed on working parole, or temporarily incarcerated to be rehabilitated. THAT promise came and went ten years ago. And though there were known Autobot threats to the human race, Megatron quickly noted that only Decepticon fugitives were being hauled in, usually by his and Prime's own servos. GHOST couldn't be bothered.
The feeling of inequality creeping into his Spark was starting to become hauntingly familiar. But this time, he was on the other team.
"When is 'Soon?'" Breakdown grumbled. "You dragged me in here four months ago, and I haven't even gotten a rep to talk on my behalf. Isn't that how it's done on this planet?"
"I'll push Optimus on the topic. You know how human bureaucrats can be." Megatron said, trying to offer a bit of light Sparked humor to lift Breakdown. It didn't work. He remained gloomy in his cell, energy bars buzzing between them.
"It true what they saying about you?" Breakdown whispered. He was fearful, clearly, but he was equally determined as he spoke. "Does the Prime really have a way of controlling you?"
That caught Megatron off guard to say the least. Was that what the consensus his ex-teammates had come to? Optimus had some sort of mind controlling power over him, or at the very least black mail? In a way, he could actually see where the Decepticons were coming from, after he had changed his ideals so radically. "No. I have my free will."
Breakdown looked a little disappointed. "Then, why you doing this? Is this like, a trap? You waiting for the right time to strike the Prime? You gonna bust us out of here, right boss?" the last sentence was almost a plea, Breakdown's flickering optics piercing into Megatron's and pooling guilt into his Spark. The feeling had become a common companion in recent years.
"Stay strong." Megatron mumbled finally. "I will assure Optimus pushes GHOST to start the review process."
He had seen many Spark's break right before his optics, but usually it was from the hopelessness of war, or seeing a squadron of Seekers screaming out of the sky to rain down death. But now, Megatron witnessed a deep, betrayed sorrow overtake Breakdown, only caused by Megatron's simple words, and he finally dropped their optic contact. He limped to the edge of the cell, sitting with a pained thud in the corner. Like the others, he didn't have a berth to rest on. Despite the devastation from their conversation, Megatron focused in on Breakdown's tender ped. "How long have you had that limp?"
Breakdown glanced down tiredly. "It never healed from when the Prime knocked me off the road."
Vague recollection tickled the back of Megatron's processor. When they had captured Breakdown after he failed to outrun them, Prime utilized a pit maneuver to spin him off into a ditch. Indeed, Breakdown had been injured. But Megatron was sure he had reported that injury to GHOST when they book Breakdown in. He had reported many injured Con's. They were meant to be treated by the standby science team upon arrival. "I'll assure they fix that, right now in fact." Megatron promised him, and this time he couldn't stop himself from growling. How dare GHOST allow these bots to suffer fixable wounds for months, just for being Decepticon.
He was startled by Breakdown's haste to stand up, the Con wincing against the pain he caused himself. "NO! Don't tell the fleshies! I can walk it off!"
"Don't be a stubborn martyr." Megatron grumbled, beginning to walk off towards the human offices.
"What's going on?" Wildrider demanded from his cell, straining to get a better look from his awkward angle. "They ain't takin' you anywhere, are they?!" He looked ready to attack the energy bars with only his bare servos and pure determination on behalf of his fellow combiner.
"Would everyone calm the frag down." Megatron growled. "It'll take less then an hour to fix after I report it, again." The last word he grumbled to himself, still bitter.
"Please! Megatron, don't! Ouch!" Breakdown had accidentally zapped himself on the bars when getting too close in his haste. Megatron stopped, turning to take in the desperate look of sheer panic on Breakdown's faceplates. "Thrust complained about a broken inner audio circuit last week. Then Nightbird had a dislocated heel strut they had to take her out to fix…"
"So?" Megatron didn't see the reasoning behind the recent report of prison injuries or how it pertained to their problem now.
Breakdown's optics were pale. "The fleshies never brought em' back to their cells. Nobot's seen them since…"
Megatron found himself just staring at Breakdown in disbelief. He wasn't sure how at all to respond, who to yell at, demand answers from.
Breakdown forced his systems to vent, swallowing his anxiety. "Please… Just don't tell em'. I ain't ready to be snuffed out yet. Not before I get to see Cybertron at least one more time."
An explosion of pain brought Megatron back into the present. The thick armor in his shoulder finally gave way, the laser now able to rip into delicate cable muscle and thin Energon veins. He thrashed in his restraints again, unable to hold back the pained cry built up in his voice box.
The human responsible for his agony was talking, but Megatron couldn't focus on anything but the melting agony in his shoulder and trying to make it stop. But he had to. D-Dorothy. Dorothy was still in this hellish place somewhere, struggling to survive. And here he was, laying worthless on a slab getting dissected! Anger flared in his Spark. He focused on that anger, forcing it into his unharmed servo, trying to bend the restraint. He ignored Mandroid laughing at his attempts, just adding that rage to the fuel trying to burn himself to freedom.
The bursting heat digging into his joint vanished, his optics almost off lining from the sudden relief from the pain. His previous struggles stopped. He needed to use this moment of reprieve to break free… but he just needed a moment, whatever had caused it, he was grateful. He cycled his vents, adjusting his optics. He saw the laser above him had indeed cut off, sparking with some unknown problem.
He could feel the rage of Mandroid at his side. His blurry focus caught movement above. He forced his optics to focus past the spotlights trained on him and instead into the dark of the open ceiling. Something human sized scurried through the massive wires and pipes. He caught the flash of a familiar face as sparks exploded from her tampering.
Dorothy! His human partner caught his gaze. She gave him a reassuring smirk before she ripped out another large wire from the laser.
Megatron blinked, almost lost for words. Instead of escaping, Dorothy was risking life and remaining limb to save him. She had a family to take care of… She needed to get home alive to see them again. Yet here she was, unarmed, outnumbered, and trying to save his sorry aft. Just like every other time they fought together. It was more then his old Decepticons would do even with good odds. Pit, probably more than most Autobots would do. For the briefest moment, he wondered when that had happened to his team… His EX-team. He had done that to the Decepticons, hadn't he? Forced it to be a survival of the fittest kind of system, then abandoned it when they HAD to work together, but had no idea how. He deserved their anger… He didn't deserve Dorothy's love.
Mandroid's enraged snarl cut the short celebratory moment in two. "Malto!" He lashed out at his own creations with his stolen arm, glaring up at the ceiling. "Bring her to me, NOW!"
Fear replaced the pride in Megatron's Spark. A hoard of Mandroid's Arachnamechs spilled from every crevice and hole in the wall and ceiling, their red sights set on Dorothy.
His human ally was forced to abandon her tampering and flee back into the shadows, the army of killing droids in hot pursuit.
Megatron continued to struggle, now desperate to get free for a reason wholly unrelated to himself. He couldn't let Dorothy be hurt… Not again, and ESPECIALLY not because of him. He could never forgive himself if that happened.
Mandroid's sigh snatched Megatron's focus. The hunched over human glanced him, then refixed his sinister smile. "Now there's no one left to save you." He promised before getting to work to fix the damage Dorothy did to the laser.
Megatron grit his denta, pushing away his want to smash the man under ped so he could concentrate on breaking free. He attempted to blink away the blur that had returned to his vision, but when his optics shuttered, everything was haloed with light. Then another shutter, and pinpricks of black filled the room. What was-
He detected the sound of dripping under the slab. He lulled his helm to assess the damage to his shoulder and discover what that dripping sound was. He unveiled the answers to both queries right away. The laser had cut a quarter of the way through the top of his shoulder, severing the first few muscle cables. As for the dripping, the heat of the laser had soldered most of the Energon lines, save for a larger artery it reached before Dorothy had disabled it. That artery was currently spewing Energon, pooling in the wound and overflowing off his shoulder and down onto the berth, then finally onto the floor in a torrent of iridescent pink. Ah. That explained his vision going dark, and his growing disorientation. He was bleeding out.
He tried adjusting his chest, pulling his shoulder up to stop the flow. He might as well not have wasted his strength for all the good it did. Worthless… Dorothy needed him, and here he was passing out again. He closed his optics, determined to pull himself back out of the fog. But the darkness never released him.
Missiles shrieked over helm, sending thunderous tremors into the ground upon impact. Music to Megatron's audios! True, the battle took place against the San Franciscan skyline, but it made him nostalgic for Cybertron. And yes, he was a big enough bot to acknowledge that being nostalgic for war back home was rather fragged up. But hey, as long as he didn't share this sentiment with Optimus, giving his pretentious friend more ammo to bitch at him about later, no harm done. Plus, this battle was rather uneventful. No civilian casualties, almost all the buildings evacuated, only some soldiers wounded, and most Decepticons retreating. They would be wrapping things up soon.
"You got that starry look in them ruby reds again, Megs." Dorothy commented.
Megatron glanced down at his partner, taking shelter between a wall and his ped as she fixed the jam in her gun. Of course she had also noted his daydreaming. Dorothy was a skilled multitasker. She could put Soundwave to shame.
Out of habit, he glanced the sky. The train of thought had started out innocent enough, but thinking of his old third in command made him more than nostalgic. It mostly made him feel guilty, and paranoid. It had been a good few years since he had even glimpsed Soundwave or any of his loyal Cassettes. He hoped to keep that record going.
"Promise not to snitch on me to Prime?" Megatron asked with a grin.
"You know me better then that!" She huffed, managing that stern look of hers that could invoke fear in even the higher sergeants, and usually put a smile on Megatron's faceplates.
Megatron hunkered down, shielding Dorothy with his frame as the block next to theirs exploded with some sort of fire bomb. "Something about today is dredging up memories of home, good and bad." He admitted with a vent. He reached back, picking a piece of shrapnel out of his shoulder joint and flinging it off into the street.
"Nothin' wrong with a bit of nostalgia, no matter where you find it, I guess." She said, a singed eyebrow cocked. "What about this battle is getting your mental oils flowing?"
"No idea." He admitted. Dorothy's gun clicked into place, and he offered his open palm for her to jump into. She did so without hesitation, then gave him a thumbs up, assuring they were ready to roll. He charged out of their cover, smashing through a group of Constructicons before they had a chance at combining to form a bigger problem for them. Dorothy shot all three before they could recover, not missing a single mark. The magnetic projectiles expertly shot from her gun clung to their armor before unleashing a devastating amount of voltage through their chassis, leaving them in total stasis lock, ready for easy pick up later. "Maybe it's seeing so many Decepticons, giving it their all despite terrible odds." He continued on, though the wistfulness of his tone was somewhat lost as he had to shout it over the chaos that surrounded them. "I still intend to get through to these idiots. I just need them all in one place, and preferably in one piece. They were my people. Still are in my opinion! And no matter what Prime says, we started with nothing but the best of intentions."
He dodged a Seeker's missile, taking aim with his arm canon and firing. It hit the mark, bursting one of their wings into flames. The nameless Seeker fell to Earth in an out-of-control death roll.
"What changed then?" Dorothy shouted over the sound of the crashing jet.
Megatron put her down in a convenient trench, just long enough to jump up and snatch the Seeker moments before they crashed to their death. He slammed the jet down into the cracked asphalt, Dorothy emerging from her cover and shooting them with her stasis weapon before they had a chance to transform. "Eh. I got stupid." Megatron said with a shrug. He kicked the immobilized Seeker into the same trench, getting them out of the way of potentially lethal fire. "I forgot why we started fighting, became obsessed, let it warp me… Brought my whole team down with me. Now they're all lashing out here… Like I said. I got stupid."
"Megs, please don't take the blame for the rest of the Cons acting fools on Earth. That's giving you way too much credit." Dorothy made sure to add with a smirk.
/Megatron, Sargent Malto, do you copy?/
Megatron scooped his companion up and slid into cover. The hand not holding Dorothy activating his Commlink in his audio. "Good to hear from you Optimus, finally. I was worried I'd have to speak at your eulogy… And something tells me Alita wouldn't want me anywhere near that responsibility. The number of embarrassing stories I have on you is impressive."
Dorothy attempted to maintain her composure, trying not to laugh over the Commlink.
Megatron heard the distinct vent from his old friend, turned enemy, turned friend again, even over the static and gunfire. He considered the ability to get under the Prime's plating an artform, annoying him like no one else in the universe could. /The Robotics Laboratory has yet to be evacuated of civilians and non-combatant military personnel. You two are the closest to the facility. Can you make it there until our reinforcements arrive? /
Megatron glanced past the barricade, seeing the large military tower only a few city blocks away. He also glanced the many Decepticons still storming down the street as tanks or armored RVs.
"We got it OP. Tell your back up no need to rush." Dorothy promised before dropping her finger from the headset built into her helmet. She climbed up from Megatron's palm to his broad shoulder, getting a better view of the streets ahead of them. "Ten hostiles, and who knows how many land minds waiting for us along the way…" She glanced from her perch to grin at him. "A regular walk in the park for you and me."
Megatron snorted a laugh. "Who said anything about 'walking?'"
Understanding dawning on her, she held fast to his frame before he transformed, taking them both into the air. With Dorothy safe inside his armored hull, he pushed his rotors and thrusters hard, blasting over the open airspace. Seeker fire came raining down, two jets screaming out of the sky to accost him the moment he came out of cover. "You holding onto something?" He asked inward, feeling Dorothy in his cargo hold.
"The way you fly? ALWAYS!" She snorted, a firm grip on one of his internal struts.
Megatron laughed then jerked upward, hard. To say the two flyers were caught off guard by the chaotic, borderline crazy maneuver was an understatement. Neither had the chance to get out of the way before he bashed into them. It forced them both into the ground, sending up dirt, smoke, and droplets of Energon into the sky. "Think you can hit 'em from here? I can get closer if you need a cleaner shot. Maybe hold them down so they don't move?" He asked innocently. He opened his underbelly, already feeling Dorothy making her way towards the open air.
"I'ma shoot you if you don't watch that metal mouth of yours Megs. I already know where your soft spots are." Dorothy warned, blasting two Stasis bullets down into the Seekers he had forced to the ground.
Megatron hummed, starting to fly for the tower once again, leaving the ramp cracked open so Dorothy could continue sniping Decepticons from her perch. "I'm almost curious enough to let ya. I didn't know I had any soft spots."
He landed behind the Science Tower in its fenced off warehouse storage area, or what was left of it. Many units had been blown open, experimental weapons and Energon having been pillaged by Decepticons during the chaos. He transformed again after Dorothy jumped out, neither wasting time rushing for the cover of the tower.
"Optimus didn't say how many we are evacuating." Megatron pointed out.
"I assume he doesn't know." Dorothy retorted, slamming her back into the wall of the tower. "So, we should assume there will be loads. I know how much you love carting people in that cargo hold of yours." She offered him a too sweet smile before testing the back door. Of course, it was locked.
Megatron scowled. "Nothing brings be greater joy in life." He didn't even have to roll his optics.
"I'll make sure everyone wipes their feet." Dorothy promised, getting ready to kick down the door. Megatron saved her the trouble and pulled the thick metal barrier off its hinges with little trouble. "Right! That's why I keep you around."
"I can make a bigger entrance for myself, if you wait." Megatron offered.
Dorothy gave him a pointed look. "Please. Even with a bigger door you'd never fit that oversized helm inside. I'll sweep the inside. You cover the front. I'll be out in a klik."
"Be careful." He said, sternly.
"Don't choose now to become sentimental, Megs." She snickered before ducking inside and out of sight.
He smirked, roiling around the Tower towards the charging hoard of Decepticons. It was a mishmash of old, yet familiar faceplates. He crashed his fist into the first chassis he could reach. He didn't need Dorothy's stasis gun to leave these few old 'friends' knocked out.
When the hoard registered who he was, many retreated right away. Though that was far from fun, it did serve to keep the perimeter of the tower safer. At this point, whatever worked. Megatron heard the scuffle of smaller peds behind him, and he whirled around to help whoever it was into an involuntary recharge.
The little gasp from his target stayed his fist. The size of his would-be opponent probably would have had him miss even if he had swung regardless, seeing as they were so short. It was a minicon. And not just any minicon. That usually repressed feeling of guilt and paranoia hit him full force as he recognized Slugfest. One of Soundwave's less utilized Cassettes. Covered in dirt and ash, one of his servos wrenched at an unnatural angle and both his cannon smashed, leaving him totally vulnerable. The little bot stood frozen, gazing up at Megatron as if he were impending doom.
"B-boss?" Slugfest whispered. Megatron almost hadn't heard him over a nearby explosion. The Autobots were close.
"What are you…" Megatron hesitated. "Is Soundwave here?"
At that question, Slugfest looked as if he were about to cry. "No. Me and Overkill got separated from the Boss on a scouting mission. Then Some Autobots attacked us, and I lost track of Overkill too. Haven't seen either of them in weeks. Thought I found salvation when I came across some other Cons… Then this fight started. We're losing bad, Boss…"
Something about the hopelessness in the small bot's voice felt like a blade jammed into Megatron's Spark. Another explosion, and this time Megatron shielded Slugfest from the flying debris before it could shred the smaller bot. Noise rose over the sounds of retreating Decepticons. Shouting military men and rolling wheels. "Autobots and those human assassins…." Slugfest whimpered, taking a step back, optics widening in horror.
Megatron snatched the Minicon as easily as he did with Dorothy, rushing off the street. "It'll be ok, Slugfest. Stay with me, and I'll get you out of here."
"Boss says your one of them now." He said coldly. Slugfest glanced between Megatron's servos to keep an optic on the street. Then he looked back up at him. "He was the last holdout… He would get so angry at anybot who said you was a traitor. Said it was some kind of loyalty test… Said it was to get one up on the Prime."
Megatron winced. Yeah, that sounded like how Soundwave would react to him defecting. Total denial. "I'm sure he'll get over it eventually." Megatron promised, patting Slugfest on his least injured servo before turning to face the street, looking out for any more hostiles.
"It ain't no test, is it?" Slugfest asked from behind him. "You really left us?"
That blade in Megatron's Spark decided to twist. He didn't have time to reply in a semi coherent fashion. Backup was finally here, only a block away. But a final wave of Decepticon fire was here to try and take back what ground they lost. They were getting to close to the tower, and Dorothy hadn't called in for pick up yet. His to big helm be damned, he was going to make himself a door into that tower and hurry things along, Slugfest shoved under one servo and Dorothy under the other.
He tapped his Commlink. "Optimus! Dorothy and the others are still in the tower, and friendly fire is getting way to close. Have em' push the Con's farther down the road and away from the Tower. I'm moving back in and prefer not to get shot by some trigger-happy human." He snarled.
"Be honest, was it me?" Slugfest almost shouted, the war around him seemingly forgotten. "Did I do somethin' wrong to make you leave us?"
Megatron spun around, determined to get the Minicon's mind off that ridiculous and self-sabotaging train of thought before they made a mad dash for the Tower across the street once more. If there was anybot who would be feeling sorry for themselves in this situation, it would be Megatron, not some poor, lost Minicon.
He turned, opened his mouth plate to respond, and got to see the metallic projectile slam into the back of Slugfest's helm in real time. Shot from some human or Autobot sniper from a rooftop no doubt. Targets were determined only by the symbol on a Bot's chassis, and not necessarily their active threat level. The force of the blow threw small form froward into the ground like a rag doll. The only sound Megatron's voice box produced was a startled gasp as the weapon unleased it's full voltage into the tiny minicon, their body twitching in a pained, deadly dance.
Megatron's mind finally caught up, and he lunged forward, smashing the device off Slugfest's helm to stop it's attack on his tiny frame. His chassis stopped twitching, but now he didn't move at all. Megatron fell to his knee joints, carefully manipulating Slugfest so he was facing upright. He screamed into his Commlink, trying to keep Slugfest steady. "I need medical evac! I have a minicon who just took a direct hit from a Stasis Gun! Does anyone copy?! I need… medical…"
He trailed off. His finger slipped off his Commlink, then traced Slugfest's blank faceplates. He hesitated, staring into the now dark optics of the minicon. Stasis Gun hits were designed to take down a bot Megatron's size, and more then likely leave lasting damage. A cassettes little frame didn't stand a chance. But he had to make sure.
Gently, or as gently as he could manage, he lifted Slugfest's limp chassis to his helm. He closed his optics, determined to tune out the bombs, the guns, and the world around him so he could make out the faint, yet distinct pulse of a Spark in Slugfest's chest.
He heard screaming in the streets. Bombs down the block. And cold, crushing silence in Slugfest's Spark Chamber.
A burst of static in his helm. /Location needed for medical evac./ Someone said, about a million lightyears away.
Megatron slowly lowered Slugfest into his lap, tapping his Commlink. "Scratch that... It won't do any good now."
Strangely nostalgic. The good, and the bad.
He pulled on strength he didn't know he had left, somewhere in reserve, and stood, Slugfest cradled in his servos. "Wasn't your fault." He wished he had said it just a few moments sooner, when there would have been someone there to hear it. "I just got stupid." He placed the small form in a semi covered place, shielded by a truck trailer, and took one last moment to get himself together. The Autobot back up was here, so he did have more time then he would have had regardless, but he needed to get back to Dorothy to help evacuate those people….
There were two things he knew for certain as he watched Slugfest, laying still under the trailer. The first thing: Megatron would carry this for a good long time, and it was a guilt very much deserved. And the second: He wasn't the only one grieving Slugfest. Somewhere on this planet, his Ex- intelligence officer Soundwave would have just been hit full force with the pain of Slugfest's passing. Soundwave's other Cassettes would be feeling it too, all connected by a Spark bond beyond anything Megatron could ever hope to understand. They would all be reeling.
He wondered if Soundwave somehow knew his Minicon's death was Megatron's fault? If that was the case, any allegiance Soundwave may have still harbored to his former leader would be snuffed with Slugfest's Spark, replaced with boiling, seething hatred and a want for something far more personal than just justice for a traitorous ex leader. A want for revenge. And Megatron deserved it.
An explosion, and this one more distinct then all the others rattled the ground, almost knocking him off his peds.
He reeled around, habit making him shield the corpse of Slugfest despite it being rather pointless. He saw the Seeker's finally retreating along with the last few hold out Cons in the streets. They shot in rapid fire as they fled. The Autobots were in hot pursuit, heavy artillery exploding right after their pray. But there was a building in their way. A human structure, like many, they seemed to deem collateral damage and fired through to get to the Decepticons regardless.
That building was the Science Tower.
The Energon in Megatron's veins ran cold. Helm ringing, peds feeling like led, he rushed out into the street, screaming into the open Comm channel. "Cease Fire! There are civilians in that building! And Sargent Malto! Cease-"
The Autobot's gunfire smashed into the Science Tower full force. The windows exploded, beams buckled, then the tower came crashing down.