Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, just my OC, Trak Sharden, and I am not making any profit from this.
Dark. It was dark. He was alone, his brother was gone. Energon trickled from the gaping hole in his chassis, pooling underneath him and dripping into his joints. As agonizing as it was, it didn't hurt more than the aching void in his spark, the cold steel of a mental wall blocking him off from someone he'd known had been so close to him before. He wanted to fix it, wanted to fix that broken link, but he didn't know how. He tried reaching out, but felt nothing. Then it hit him, with horrifying clarity. He was going to die, alone. And that scared him more than the dark ever could. He needed his brother. He didn't want to be alone.
He screamed out a name instinctivly, knowing somehow that if he could reach the other, then everything would be okay. "Oppy . . . Optimus, don't leave me! Brother!" He screamed into the dark. "Brother, please! Oppy, come back! Don't leave me . . . Oppy, please . . . please . . ."
The next thing he knew, strong arms wrapped around his frame, holding him close. "I'm here, brother. I'm here. I won't leave."
"Oppy!" He twisted around, hugging him with all of his strength. His brother was here. Everything was going to be alright. "Oppy, don't leave me." He begged.
"I won't, brother. I promise."
He drifted into a peaceful fog, unconciously sending a hug through the link that the wall had foermly blocked. Optimus was here. He was no longer alone—no longer afraid, and that's all that mattered.
Optimus gazed down at the still form, watching Ratchet work. Beside him, Will and the other soldiers stood in uneasy silence, waiting to hear if it really was their comrade. Ironhide was leaning against the wall next to Bumblebee, who was sitting by Jazz's body. Mikaela and Sam hovered close by, refusing to leave the scout's side. They were all waiting for Ratchet's verdict.
At last, the medic straightened and turned to them, optics narrowed. "I won't be able to tell for certain until he comes online, but from what I can make out, the Allspark transferred the . . . life . . . of Trak Sharden into Megatron's body, igniting a spark." He glanced down at the battered mech. "This may be Megatron's body, but this isn't Megatron."
"Is he going to be okay?" Will asked.
Ratchet sighed heavily. "I don't know. Nothing like this has ever happened before, and his spark chamber is heavily scarred, which may cause his spark to weaken or terminate."
Suddenly, the supposedly offline mech spasmed violently, optics flaring crimson as an electronic wail tore from his vocalizer. The Autobots jerked back in surprise, Optimus's optics widening before he leaped forward, grasping the flailing hands and holding them still, crooning in Cybertronian as the other continued screaming. Twisting out of Optimus's grip, he lunged upwards; dragging Optimus down into an embrace as the screams died down to whimpers and quiet keens.
Optimus held him, stroking the back of his helm as he spoke quietly. After a few seconds, the silver mech went limp in his embrace, and Optimus carefully lowered him back down to the ground, still holding his hand. The humans looked visibly shaken.
"What was that?" Will demanded, barely hiding the trembling in his voice.
"That," Optimus said slowly, somberly. "Was Megatron."
"Megatron?" Sam's eyes widened and he tensed slightly, pressing closer to his guardian.
"It appears that Trak Sharden still retains some of Megatron's memories." Optimus looked down at the silver form, conflicting emotions raging in his optics, but his voice was steady. "As Ratchet said, we won't be able to tell for certain until he's fully online."
One silver, clawed hand tightened around his fingers, and Optimus squeezed back instinctively.