Author's Note: I've been distracted with Voltron, as I'm sure that some of you can tell. And now Venom is high on my list. This was written in one afternoon, and all mistakes are my own. But I'm still determined to get this story finished. To all my new readers, thank you for reading! For my committed readers who have been following this story since the beginning, are you ready for Endgame?

.o.

The preparations for the return to Cybertron both took too long and passed too quickly over the next month. The Maximals were almost completely overhauled, Optimus was back to his full functioning, along with many warriors from both sides. Sam and Carly had a very long, difficult conversation in regards to their Younglings. At the end of it, she had reassured him that she would stay on Earth with them, no hard feelings. But Carly wanted to be on the next trip out to Cybertron. She had sent him off for the preparations with a kiss and with a horde of symbionts dancing around their tight embrace. Lennox had been a little frustrated at not being able to go, but his responsibilities were to NEST, to Ironhide, but had promised Sam that he and Sarah would help keep ever.

Sam stared up at the craggy face of Lord Protector Megatron one last time, perched over the broad chest. "This is going to feel very, very weird."

"I have heard. I am prepared, AllSpark Prime."

"You're not, but that's okay." Sam smiled, Faustus at the ready to assist with the Spark transfer. Rachet stood by Megatron's new frame, Wheeljack with him as they ran final tests.

Megatron hesitated for one long moment, then asked softly, "What if this goes wrong? Who will watch out for Optimus?"

"I will, as will Prowl and Terratron. Ironhide will once he's back up," Faustus replied, voice soft, grave. He sounded older, much older than his few short years of life. "Soundwave and Flamewar will. But the transfer will not go poorly, Lord Protector Megatron. This is a chance at a new beginning."

The old mech trembled before shuttering his optics and clenching hands poorly-suited for rebuilding a world.

A shadow fell over them, and Terratron himself cradled his protégé's helm between scarred and dented hands. "Megatron, I will assist in your Spark transfer by carrying Sam. Faustus will remain a conduit to the Cloud to assist in stabilizing your Spark between the frames."

"I would feel ever so much more confident about this procedure if we were in an actual medical bay," Megatron grumbled softly. "I fear that this will take too long."

"You fear an attack," Sam murmured.

"Yes."

"Do you want Optimus in here, too?"

"No. There are too many important people in here right now."

"He's outside the door, you know," Terratron teased softly. "Along with your worried lovers."

"I don't want them to see me like that; it will distress them"

"Then they won't enter until you're ready for them," Ratchet promised. "This isn't a normal frame transition, my Lord Protector. You've had several millennia of

After a long, shuddering sigh, Megatron finally nodded his head and focused his optics on Sam. "I am ready, AllSpark."

The last thing he saw were Sam's glyphs flaring bright and hot enough to disintegrate the clothing around his form and a look of shocked terror on the young human's face.

.o.

Sam groaned, eyes squeezing shut as he came around. He felt burned, his very nerves tingling with the sensation he had come to know as nanites repairing something furiously. The health assessment gently pushed forward, and he gasped, sitting up and pressing his hands to the back of his neck, staring into darkness.

"Sam! Primus, don't move much. Keep sitting up if you can."

"Ratchet, what happened?" the boy demanded, feeling the cool metal of his "tattoos" trying to help soothe him as a hand helped support him. It was eerie to feel the glyphs as if they weren't his own skin. The AllSpark hadn't felt this active, this alive, since Mission City. "Megatron!"

"Here, boy." A fingertip, taloned but gentle, brushed along Sam's shoulder, overlapping Optimus' own touch. "We're more concerned about you. Can you see, yet?"

"No. Shit, what happened?"

Silence. Nobody wanted to answer him.

"You absolute cowards. Brother, you were a Conduit for Primus," Optimus' voice was firm yet soft, coming from below Sam. He patted along the mattress that had been placed over Optimus' spark chamber, feeling the living metal and curling one hand securely around the edge of a piece of armor. "It's no wonder that your nerves took damage. Your nanite system was almost decimated as well, but we've seen to replenishing them."

"Explains why I feel like I was run over by a parade. Please tell me that someone recorded everything that happened."

"Y-yes, actually. You . . . aren't distraught by this?" Megatron asked, voice incredulous.

Sam laughed, exhausted and punchy and feeling the pull back into unconsciousness. "Megs, for fuck's sake, do you know how strange my life is? After a while, I stopped losing my shit over every crazy new thing. Gonna go back to sleep, now." And he did.

.o.

"I am ready, AllSpark."

The glyphs flared to life along Sam's body, and there was one short shared moment of complete terror between everyone in the room. Then came the feeling.

"Attend to me, Lord Protector Megatron."

And then it was only Megatron facing his creator, the originator of his Spark. And he faced the choice he never wanted to make for himself.

~I give you the choice. You are plagued by your own guilt, your own fear that you will return to the monster you had been turned into. My sweet, fierce protector, you are given the choice that Detrius and Jazz were given: Do you wish to remain with me here, without fear, without guilt, without pain, until your Sparkmates and Primes return to rejoin with their Sparks? Or do you wish to return to the struggle, the pain, the uphill trudge to find the peace readily available to you here?~

Megatron stared up, up, up at Primus.

And he shook his head. "Send me back."

~You could have the peace you desire.~

"Send me back!"

~You could remain and guide them from this side.~

"No! Send me back!"

~You could heal faster, return anew.~

"I wouldn't be me that they need me to be! Send me back, Unmaker take you!"

And Primus smiled. ~That is why I will send you back, Megatron. Because you do know your duty, now, down to the very last atom of your Spark. I knew you would never say yes. But you shall not depart without a gift.~

Megatron frowned, unable to even comprehend the enormity of the situation he was in. "If . . . if it is in your will."

~Oh. It is.~

.o.

Megatron came around with a gasp, optics flaring and burning out before the power along his frame was modulated and regulated. Hands were running along his frame carefully, unplugging a jack here, replugging a medical cord there, reattaching a hydraulics drain . . . "Ratchet?"

"Stay still." His voice was hoarse and pained. "Wheeljack is grabbing supplies for replacing your new optics and a few relays that had burned out with your transfer. Optimus broke in and he's taking care of Sam. Soundwave and Flamewar are leading the here in keeping a solid perimeter until we have both of you back on your feet."

"Sam . . . is Primus at times . . . isn't he?"

"Yes."

"Does the boy know?"

"No. He wouldn't have wanted to know when he was younger, and it would make him feel even worse about the various agonies that he's caused us since we've all met. Primus and I have spoken about this, about him. I am not a fan of the 'wait and tell him later' method, honestly."

"As our Healer," Megatron started, but paused long enough that Ratchet could answer the unasked question.

"Yes, Megatron, as his Healer, knowing what his soul, his Spark, needs, I have made this decision to keep the knowledge from him. I can make a decision and not agree with the reasoning. Sam will understand when either he has passed on, or when he feels it's time to address that aspect of his existence." Sighing, the CMO carefully began dismantling Megatron's optical array for replacement. "We have very few optic colors left that would fit your frame size, so—"

"Optimus? Is the boy okay?" Megatron interrupted, not caring what color his optics would be.

A low rumble greeted his audios, half-subsonic. It was a noise Megatron had heard many a time after a difficult hearing with the Senate where they had prevailed as a team. It was a noise of success and contentment after a struggle. Words soon followed. "He will be. His nanites are at five-percent, and his nervous system took a beating. What happened?"

"Primus gave me the choice to stay or to return to him and—" Megatron stopped quite suddenly, hand pausing over his own Spark. The fractures were gone. Not repaired. Not scarred-over. Gone. Entirely. He knew the cracks, the flaws, the places that had dimmed. He had learned how his Spark would stutter occasionally, even after Sam had helped stabilize him when he had needed help eradicating the hack. It was from stepping on an electro-atomic mine some five thousand years ago and not being able to fly out of rage fast enough. Friendly fire. He had banned usage of the weapon after that point, and someone had assassinated the mine's creator not long after.

The flaw that created the stutter was gone.

"Ratchet, can you scan my Spark and compare against your most recent scan, please?"

The medbay fell into instant silence as Ratchet performed the scan, drawing it up on a holographic screen to examine and compare against the scan he had done just moments before Megatron had indicated he was ready for the transfer. And Ratchet stared. And stared. And his hand fell to Megatron's shoulder and rested there reassuringly. But Ratchet could only stare as the knowledge of how to heal Sparks on this level unraveled itself between his Matrix and his Spark.

When he spoke, his voice was hoarse, low. "Megatron, this is something that I've honestly never seen before. Your Spark scans close to what it had been when you were sworn in as Lord Protector."

"And the boy is injured because of it."

"He's recovering," several people replied in a happy chorus. Faustus' voice rose above the rest. "We've infused him with both additional nanites and minerals that were burned up as he channeled."

"Even the Sparkling knows that Sam's . . . well, Sam."

Faustus' voice was unimpressed, echoing with deadpan accuracy back to Megatron, "Gee, it's like I've never been around the AllSpark before as a newframe, or that I have this weird mystical bond with a human who just so happens to not be entirely human anymore. Hm. Who knew that I might have the second-best understanding of how his mind works and what he is?"

"Oh, pipe down you brat," Optimus chuckled, genuinely amused at the young Protectorate's sass. "We know that this made you very anxious, but we also know that Megatron is just as worried about Sam as you are. Especially right now. Sam will be okay; he just needs to rest."

Megatron let the silence fall before asking one final question.

"Who's telling Carly?"

.o.

When Sam woke up, he blinked against the light, then grinned and shielded his gaze while his eyes readjusted. He really was grateful for the nanites in his life at this point. "Hey, Op."

"Stop giving me scares like this, Sam."

"I'll try. Megs okay?"

"I'm far more concerned with your recovery," Megatron rumbled from behind him. Sam turned carefully, checking himself for any dizziness, and took in the new form of Optimus' Lord Protector. "The procedure took more of a toll on you than it did on me."

In many ways, Megatron looked very much like "himself." But only where certain themes of armor lines were concerned. It was very clear that his design was closer to Terratron's original design, but with organic curves in places that would allow for better mobility as well as medical access. Gunmetal grey remained the primary color over matte-black enameled struts, highlighted by silver, red, white, and black in an appealing pattern. But what stood out the most were his optics, a white-blue that was brighter than Optimus' own.

Sam sighed. "I'm so glad that you're okay. What happened? I mean, it, what really happened there? The AllSpark has never reacted that way before, and I've been helping the medics with Spark-stabilization for years, now."

"It . . . wasn't just the AllSpark," Megatron replied, sitting on a stool so that neither Sam nor Optimus, who continued to lay still beneath his tiny human brother, were uncomfortable staring up at him. "Sam, Optimus and I feel that it is wrong to lie to you. Many of the Autobots have kept this knowledge from you as you matured. You rank above Optimus as a Prime, especially after what happened yesterday. You are the highest priest we have, affirmed by Primus himself. You, my young Prime, became his mouthpiece."

Sam paused, taking the time to take this in. There was a lot that he could have said in response, including instant denial. But he knew that he was important to many people, and that his purpose in the lives of the Cybertronians was something that had been generations in coming. He hated that he hadn't had a choice when he was younger, but now? Now he hated that he didn't make more of the time he could had been spending learning more of what duties he could have been doing earlier.

"None of that," Megatron growled, a smile still hanging in the dark tones. "None of that, AllSpark. You have plenty of years ahead of you, and you will know well in advance of your time so that you can help train the next AllSpark Prime." He tousled the short brown hair before settling again. "Sam, without you, I would not be healed. I would not be sane. I may not even be alive if it wasn't for the fact that the AllSpark chose you to be its next receptacle. Without you, none of this would be possible."

Optimus sat up, cradling Sam against his chest, careful to make sure that the blanket didn't slide off the boy's lap. "Sam, my mechling, my brother."

Sam turned and spread his arms across Optimus' chest in the best approximation of a hug. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, Sam."

They let him cry himself out, Megatron's fingertips carefully brushing along the backs of Sam's shoulders while Optimus kept him curled close to his Spark. And when he had finished, when the stress of the last year had finally run its course down his cheeks, Sam whispered, "We have to spread the news among the Cybertronians about kindling. We just can't let the humans know."

Optimus nodded slowly. "I agree. Should we wait until we've proven the method?"

"We would need volunteers, stable mechs who are ready for a newspark," Megatron murmured. "Strong of Spark, with a frame able to support the hardware Ratchet would have to install, and a position and rank that would allow for administrative assignments."

"Prowl and Jazz?" Optimus murmured.

"No." Sam shot that down. "You know those two; you can't keep them from sparring for long, and Prowl likes to be close enough to the action that he can still get sniped."

Megatron rubbed at his chin absently. "Soundwave and . . . Well, Soundwave as the Carrier? I'm unsure what he may prefer in regards to the siring process."

"That's not an awful idea if he's willing. It might do better with his Kin-type frame," Optimus replied. "And between Soundwave and Blaster, they have enough experience rearing hatchlings and symbionts."

"You might be onto something there," Sam agreed, leaning back enough to see both faces. "But if either refuse, we're back to the drawing board. What about Ratchet and Wheeljack as Creators?"

"They'd also be able to know if anything was wrong, and how to best fix it."

All three came to the same conclusion at once. "Oh!"

Ten minutes later, the twin Lord Protectorates and Bluestreak were staring in shock at the trio before very happily accepting the idea of creating together. And when the news had gone out, Soundwave and Blaster clearly agreed that their frame-types were well-suited for experimentation of bringing newlings into the world, and Ratchet and Wheeljack also agreed.

Sam sighed, looking up at the night sky on Earth one final time before he became the first human to step upon Cybertron.

Bumblebee settled behind him, sitting and staring up at the bright "star" that was their newest planetary neighbor. "Sam."

"Bee."

"It's been quite the journey, hasn't it?"

"Yeah. Really has. I could have never anticipated that this was going to be an opportunity."

"You've grown so much, so quickly. I'm sorry that we have done that to you."

"Oh, Bee." Smiling over his shoulder, turning, Sam reached his hands out and gained both index fingers of his guardian's hands. "I think if you ask anyone, there were too many variables and too many possibilities to predict what kind of future I would have had with you all. I'm glad, though, that you've been there for me through it all."

"I'm . . . I'm glad, too."

And Sam grinned. "Joyride?"

Bee jumped up, transforming as he moved, and popped open the driver's side door. "Get in, quick! Before they find us and make us be adults!"

Diving into the driver's seat with a bark of laughter, the boy and his car darted off.

.o.

Author's Note: That's it for this arc! One final arc on the way. It's been quite the journey to write this fic.

Song is: "Glitter and Gold" by Barns Courtney