Twisted Threads 5
Title: Twisted Threads
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Slash, war, death, mentions of rape
Pairing: Various
Summary: Due to a space-bridge malfunction, universes collide. From bunny 1.
I played all Animated mechs, and Shade played all G1 mechs.
Megatron was standing in the command center, arms crossed and pose steady, every inch radiating pride. Partly that was because they were headed towards a fight and he knew it, deep inside his spark… another opportunity to prove to their opponents and everyone else that they were the supreme fighters, in any galaxy they might end up in.
Partly it was because of something else entirely. His newest addition to the Decepticon ranks was getting his upgrades today. He had had Hook install a feed in the med bay so he could watch without leaving his post. Optimus… The young one would be a credit to the name Decepticon, more than he already was.
Optimus hoped he wasn't giving away how irrationally nervous he was. He was afraid that 'someone' wouldn't be happy with what he chose... New, still forming, programming which he recognized as purely Decepticon pointed out that it did not matter if anyone objected to his choices, because he could beat them. The Autobot parts of his programming reassured him that his every choice was logical and well-founded. In both cases, he had nothing to worry about. "Is there any chance that you'll stop cackling, Hook? Or do I simply have to deal?"
“Sure. If we are attacked and I need my air cycles to cool my fighting chassis I’ll stop.” This was rich, this was wonderful, he was having Optimus Prime on his table for upgrades and if they ever got back he was so going to rub this into their Autobot leader’s faceplates, no matter that he’d likely get his aft shot for it. No to mention that he was upgrading the first young Decepticon in eons. Life was nice to Hook this day. He had a feeling Lord Megatron was pleased as well. He sure had looked it when he had requested the security feed.
"Ye-ah... That's what I thought. Guess that means I have to hope you don't stop..." It didn't really bother him. Better to have the medic in a good mood! Right now, Hook was in the best mood that Optimus had ever seen a medic in. Even after Ratchet had gotten well-fragged... Oddly enough, Optimus was pretty sure than Ratchet was still considered an Autobot. He could think about that later. "So."
“So, on the table, kid. What do you want?” He readied his tools and flipped through charts. This could work and this… “Armor? Weaponry?”
"Armor, yes. What I have is entirely too thin and fragile. I would prefer not too much increase in bulk, I'm used to my body and too many changes would just slow me down. Weapons..." Optimus thought for a moment, considering. "I don't really see a need for more, unless maybe you can make them stronger. I know how to use what I have, that's really what matters. I still need to be able to blend in at least a little with the Autobots here, if they're to trust me at all, or I'd take the optics." He was almost certain he was going to lead them... who else?
So not too much to do then… it didn’t curb Hook’s enthusiasm. “Great. Your set up isn’t too bad, I’m sure I can work with it…” Really, some of the Autobots he had seen. The little one they had met first, for example. If that one was ever to be considered one of them, the medic was afraid he’d have to do the better part of a complete rebuild… Not important now. “We’re just going to get your plating changed and tweak the connections a little- Yes, yes. Looking good. Streamlined, I guess? So you’ll fit in?” Normally he wouldn’t have bothered smoothing the edges out, much less as they made for nice weapons if you had nothing else anymore, but one had to consider the environment. And in that vein, “If you want the optics, I could give you a blue visor to hide them.”
Most of the babble was safe to ignore, and so Optimus did. The last questions... "Yeah, for the most part. Don't need to be quite as rounded, but I'm sure that wouldn't be possible anyway." Quite belatedly, Optimus got on the table. “And I... I think I would like that, the visor...”
And they were all set. The design was taking form in his mind, perfect as only a body could be, something his gestalt always tried to emulate in their constructions. This would be truly beautiful…
Still keeping watch, Megatron observed Hook’s progress every other minute. Under his hands their newest member was reformed, reborn to be truly one of them, to be what his spark already was.
Optimus had not expected painkillers, and so he wasn't surprised when he got none. By and large, the formatting wasn't painful anyway, at most a little annoying from time to time. He could feel the differences, the weight increase from thicker armor, the visor's connections. It was reassuring, right. Proper. Optimus hadn't even realized he had been missing anything, and relaxed slowly as work progressed. None of that was to say he didn't stay aware of what Hook was doing, of course.
Hook stepped back, hands aching slightly and tanks pinging him with depletion messages a few hours later. Elation overshadowed the discomfort as he looked over his work, accomplishment making him smile tiredly. “Now you’re a ‘Con, kid, spark, mind, and body. Make us proud.”
The Decepticon leader could only second Hook’s assessment. Optimus looked truly glorious with something for protection that deserved that description. A few training fights to get him used to his new body… and then they would fight. Fight and baptize his armor with their enemies’ lifeblood.
The wash of pleasure Hook's words brought wasn't really surprising either, as contrary to his early teaching as they were. "I will. Thank you, Hook." Optimus stood, stretching and twisting a little, getting used to the changes. "I'll let you go fuel now..." Smirking a little, he nodded and left the med bay. Time to go find if 'someone' approved of his new armor.
Seeing the Prime leave, Megatron switched the monitor showing the med bay to a corridor. He didn’t have to wait for long. Barely managing to keep his face straight and the satisfied smirk contained, he kept his back to the door. “Yes?”
"I know you want to see me, Megatron..." Optimus drawled, leaning against the doorway, visor down. He very much craved Megatron's approval, and couldn't quite say that it was only because the mech was older and debatably wiser. On the other hand, it certainly wasn't love, Optimus knew that.
Smart, sexy slagger. Megatron didn’t turn, though. Only the purr in his voice told of the game he was only too happy to play. “Now, why would I not? I always like to see a loyal soldier. But I’m busy with monitor duty right now.” Because he made an example of assuming every duty his soldiers had to fulfill, if time, resources and situation allowed it. “Is there a specific reason?”
Mighty Megatron busy with monitor duty. Optimus debated teasing him for it, for a half-click, and decided that would make him sound too much like Starscream. "I can watch the monitors while you look at me. Or I can just go, and you can see my upgrades later. I guess it doesn't matter too much..." The new Decepticon made no move to leave, or even turn away, staying slouched in the doorway and waiting for Megatron to turn around.
Now he did move, enough to give Optimus a ‘first’ look over. Megatron didn’t fight the appreciative darkening of his optics. “Take my post. I’ll inspect you now.” Taking a step back, he made room for the smaller mech. “Remember to watch the monitors closely. It’s our duty to stay alert.”
He had walked right in to that one. Optimus might have complained, but it was an important duty, as boring as it also was. "Yes, sir," he answered, tone almost insolent. In other times he probably would have earned at least a blow for that, but Optimus liked to think that he knew when not to play. Stepping up to watch monitors, Optimus very carefully did not look elsewhere, even as every circuit began to buzz.
Megatron drew a half circle behind the young Decepticon, taking in his gleaming new armor from every angle he could get this way. After a few endless breems of only that, he stopped behind his subordinate, so close he could feel the warmth of the other’s frame and lay his hands on the now broader shoulders, squeezing them in a test. “Not bad. But I expect nothing short of perfectionism from Hook…”
He did not jump at the sudden touch, and was rather proud of that. Optimus leaned back just a little, and he was surprised when that was enough to brush their armor together. "And did he deliver, Megatron?" Optimus wanted to feel those hands all over him again, even if he did have to watch monitors through it.
“Oh, I don’t know yet. I have to,” his hands slid over strong arms and then up again at the younger mech’s sides, “inspect your new body more thoroughly before I judge it.” And he would… oh, yes, he would.
Optimus couldn't keep back the soft sound of want Megatron's touch elicited. Megatron's hands were the best, at least from those Optimus had felt so far. "Then I suppose... you'd best do so. I would hate to have some... small... flaw... go unrepaired..." As though Hook would let something like that happen.
“Precisely.” He did as he had told. And he took his sweet time… Exploring every nook and cranny of Optimus' unfamiliar-but-not armor, tracing every ridge and edge he could reach in his position until the still slim chassis under his hands was almost glowing with heat. Time to see if his order had been heeded. “Status report, soldier.”
"All quie- oh, slag..." One of the warning lights began to flash as Optimus spoke, and he forced himself to pay attention, even while he trembled with want. "It's... mm, the others. They're... coming to attack us, I think." Which meant no time to finish this fun game. At least he knew he could find someone after the battle, but slag it all! He wanted Megatron, and now. Optimus did his best to reign it in.
A growl bubbled up in his vocaliser and he didn’t bother suppressing it. He didn’t appreciate being interrupted when feeling u- inspecting a soldier. More than that, he had itched for his counterpart’s energon ever since they had found Shockwave. Before this version of him had been an enemy, yes, but after… Where Megatron respected his enemies at the least and honored them at the most, this one earned nothing but pure hatred, so cold it could have burned through battle armor.
He was going to die… but before he was going to pay, to burn and suffer. And then, only then when the rightful leader of the Decepticons was satisfied enough by his agony to release him into the smelting pits would he die.
Time to call his mechs to arms.
Quite agreeing with the growl, at least as far as the interruption went, Optimus followed Megatron out of the room. Monitors were not their duty in a battle. Well, Optimus wasn't going to accept it being his duty, at least. "We're going to need a bigger army. Let me take care of that," Optimus said. He didn't know if Megatron heard him, or processed the words. The former Autobot still peeled away, heading to the detention center, pinging Megatron with a request for an open comm so he could hear the orders given. The request got redirected to Soundwave, who was already getting the network in place.
"Rodimus. You have a choice," Optimus said as he reached the Prime's cell. "The ones you know as Decepticons are invading. You and yours can stay here and hope the invasion is fought off, or I can let you all out and you can fight alongside us. You'll probably even be allowed to remain out, for being brave and proving yourselves.”
He let Optimus go, he trusted him to take any means necessary and an acceptable calculated risk, already giving orders over his comm. Five breems into invasion and their network was almost finished, what weapons had needed distributing given out, and most mechs at their station. If those Decepticons out there thought they’d find Cybertron a fruit ready to be plucked off its bush they’d be in for a nasty surprise. Starscream called in with the ready beacon for their air forces just as he took his own place. They were as ready as they would ever be.
His was really the only force of Decepticons and Autobots. Megatron's force was pure Decepticons, and Rodimus and his Autobots were around storehouses, where it was hoped they wouldn't see much fighting, because they were not at all skilled enough. The wait was not long. It only took a breem from first contact for the situation to devolve into complete chaos. Optimus found himself facing an 'other-Decepticon' femme, as thick and large as any mech. He recognized her, the 'general of destruction'. What an honor...
No plan ever survived first contact. So, as a principle, Decepticons made few plans and acted as the situation dedicated. It made for speed and adaptability. And for the usual chaos of a battle, of course, though not in their ranks. You knew with whom you fought and reacted to them. Almost like an organism.
As it was prudent for the leader, Megatron fought in the first row, where the fights were the ugliest and the enemies were the strongest on his part of the battlefield. That meant he didn’t have to wait long until he encountered his counterpart. At least in this, it seemed, he possessed some honor. Few things were worse than a coward, but he had proven to be some of them.
They clashed, like forces of nature, the crowd parting for them, no matter which faction the fighters belonged to, and giving them space.
The movement of the armies swept Optimus away from the general, and he let it happen. He was quite sure they would meet again soon. In the meantime, there were other mechs... Optimus barely noticed as he spun and duck low, just in time for Rumble to shot through where he had been and hit his target. A moment later, Optimus had to roll to the side to evade Strika's blow, and there was no time to wonder where she had come from. A familiar explosive punch broke them apart again, and Optimus caught a glance of Rodimus rolling to his feet in the aftermath.
They traded blows, each of them landing a few and missing a few, his counterpart more of the second than him. The best fighter he had seen in this universe thus far… but he was better. Still, Megatron had a worthy, at least in proficiency, opponent on his hands. A Decepticon, no matter how much that term scalded his glossa only thinking about it in connection to this… this…
They parted once more, both landing in a crouch at opposite sides of the ring that had evolved around them. Autobots, way more Decepticons than their factional counterparts… mechs and femmes with potential, like Shockwave, who had helped them, loyal to the cause if to an unworthy leader…
Megatron’s optics narrowed. Starscream was going to have a field day with this, but that was the least of his concerns right now. Leaving the battle stance, he stood tall. “Megatron! You have failed as the Decepticon leader. Your ways hold no honor and disgrace the name of our faction! I am the rightful leader of the Decepticons and I demand their loyalty. You will step aside for me and into the smelters, which is less than you deserve for the crimes you committed!”
What, on Cybertron, Earth, or any other planet, was that mech talking about? Megatron was willing to accept the strange sliver mech as a Decepticon, even as named Megatron. The bulky, beautiful double of Shockwave had certainly explained plenty, even though he hadn't wanted to. Even so... "Like you could even make me! You have no claims here, no rights, no understanding! If you won't leave, we'll have to move you, and then take our prize..."
Ooh, this would be good... "Stop, stop. You'll want to see this, General," Optimus hissed, squirming out of the hold Strika had got him in. "And can you tell Lugnut to stop? I don't want to miss anything!"
Startled, Strika did as requested, watching the slender mech warily as she did so. She recognized a challenge fight when she saw one, though it had been eons, but was surprised that this Autobot did.
“Move me?!” Megatron threw his helmet back to laugh, cold and sharp as the shards of a mirror. When he looked down again it had silenced to a cruel smirk, his pale optics hell fires shining murder. “You say I have no claim? I am Megatron, conqueror of worlds, death to all who dare to lay their eyes on Cybertron as their prize! Appointed by our people’s leader, chosen and named wearing my predecessor’s and his killer’s energon, unbeaten in all my eons of rule. Who are you to deny me my claim? You are nothing.” Snarling the silver mech flashed his fangs in challenge. “Unwilling to protect what should be your first priority, dishonored by the only one who can, yourself. You will fight and when I rip your worthless spark out of your casing, the mislead fools following you will be mine to command.”
"This is going to get messy..." And hot. Optimus did not say that last part. He did step a little ways from Strika, joining the other non-native Decepticons in occupying strategic locations in the crowd-slash-competing armies.
"Why should I protect those who spurned us? Why should I not instead possess it, treating those who stand against me as they treated us, however I so choose‽" Megatron saw no reason to speak more, and attacked the other mech as he stood making his argument.
There would have been a lot of things to say about that, most of which would have made his Autobots pause and gave Megatron the impression that maybe, just maybe, he should have a talk with his Prime… If what the Autobot leader claimed to stand for was true, there might be a way to end their disagreement. Not that he didn’t believe that, the sentimental fool was too stubborn and consequential about the whole ‘Freedom is the right of all sentient beings’ thing for it to be a fake, but he hadn’t really… thought about it until now.
Well, first things first. He had demanded a challenge fight and now he had to prove that he hadn’t taken a bigger swig of that cube than he could swallow. There was no need for weapons in this, such was the custom. You killed the one you had to best with your own hands or not at all.
He had better answer those questions, Strika thought, before any of them would follow him. Otherwise, this other Megatron would find himself facing more than a few challenges of his own. Unusual, perhaps, but the whole situation was. They would be worse than dead if they couldn't adapt.
A true fight... Megatron was sure he would win now, with the inequality of weaponry gone. "I will command your troops," he whispered, voice only carrying to his other, their conflict drowning him out to their watchers. "The sweet thing you call Shockwave. Maybe even the precious toy you've made of that Autobot. I will enjoy them..." Make him mad, make him sloppy.
Megatron could literally feel the dams break that had been strained since he had found the protector of their planet. His optics whitened with rage. This one was going to pay.
Starscream, who had taken to the ground and shoved his way into the front rows (because he would be damned if he let himself be consoled with anything else) honest to Primus winced, a slow motion combined with a grimace. “Now he’s got it coming. Whatever that idiot just said was the last crystal.” In all his vorns knowing his leader, he had never seen anyone survive causing this particular look. True enough, the next hits connecting left bigger dents than the ones before had, fists flying faster and harder than any mech holding back for the sheer necessity to shield his own servos could make them. Megatron had fought and survived in the arena countless times… this was just another ring.
Sweet spark, what was wrong with this mech? This was not what anger was supposed to cause. For the first time, Megatron felt fear. The other mech didn't even seem to notice when part of his own plating came off, with no little help from Megatron.
Fear. Bah. What Decepticon would show fear of death, and this was their leader? No mech wanted to die... That was why they fought, clawed, struggled every day to live, just one orn more, one joor, one breem. One evaded and combated death when it came, but one never, never feared it. Strika growled, stumping through the crowd to find her consort.
Skywarp was hiding behind the other Thundercracker and Prowl. This was all so scary!
Time didn’t matter. Pain was insignificant. All that was important was to get his hands onto this bastard child of a turborat and squeeze the ever-loving slag out of him until his engine guttered out- His opponent lost his footing, and with a roar, Megatron threw himself forward, his full weight shoving the other onto, and partly into, the ground. On some level he knew that he was giving openings on less important systems but he didn’t care. The Decepticon leader pressed his hands against his enemy’s chest plating, ignoring warning messages about his finger servos, until he felt them warp and give, until he had enough of a gap to shove his digits in between and force them open, expose what he had wanted to extinguish for what felt like forever.
A roar, and Stika looked at the fight enough to see sparklight. That was the end, then. Grabbing Lugnut, she carelessly pulled him away from the red Prime, barely noticing the damage they both sported. It wasn't that bad. Now... from the looks of things, it was almost time to get those answers.
He actually did plead, though he had no voice. Megatron went into a frenzy as his spark was bared, clawing and ripping at anything in reach, desperate to stop the other, just make him stop.
This was the end. Contrary to common sayings, a spark wasn’t solid enough to be actually ripped out of someone else’s chest without either the casing or special tools involved. A pity. Pinning his opponent to the ground by the throat, Megatron reached into his chest and put his hand around the other’s spark chamber as far as it would go.
And closed it.
A shudder went through his assembled Decepticons as they watched their leader, bathed in another’s spark light like a demon illuminated by the smelter’s fire, crushed his enemy’s essence. The light faded, retreating from silver armor like the dusk of a dying star, leaving him somehow bigger than before, stronger. It had been a while since they had been truly reminded of his power. What had gained him the glory and respect he possessed.
Wow. Optimus had no idea what to say aside from that. It was brutal, horrifying... it seemed to be somewhat less than he had deserved. Optimus remembered how Shockwave had looked when they rescued him.
"Lord!" Strika said, breaking the mood before it could become too thick. "We demand answers for his last questions! Why ought we protect those who have already shown their hate for us?" No-one would question her right to speak for the Decepticons. She was their General.
The rage subsided, leaving him aching and tired in a way that went beyond the physical level. Megatron was crouching over his opponent’s corpse, graying and still oozing fluids, and for once after a fight he just felt dirty. There was nothing he wanted of this one, not even the energon of a rightful kill on his hands. Brushing the feeling off, he pushed himself up, stance as strong as at the beginning of the fight, wariness retreating from his optics. That and sadness, regret, not for today, but for other times… things he should have prevented, hadn’t seen coming until it had been too late.
He focused on the femme addressing him and a small smile made it onto his faceplates, though it vanished quickly. “Strika. What a pleasure to see you, I didn’t think I would ever again.” His general… strong and loyal and, sadly, offline for a long time now… She wouldn’t let the Decepticons run into anything blindly. How had it come so far if she had been at his counterpart’s side? A question for another time… “Why? Do you even listen to what you are saying? Why fulfill our purpose? Our function? Don’t get me wrong, I know how you feel. I was at that point once, long ago…”
Dimming his optics with a deep sigh, he let his gaze wander over the still fighters, the battle waiting to happen or be averted. “Had I been any younger then than I was, I would have given in. Oh, I did assemble those who are mine, and we did fight, for what was our right, for what we needed, but never for the purpose of destroying what we were meant to protect… even if our struggle almost did so in the end.” He looked at her again, defense open and every vorn of his age palpable.
“The question you must ask yourself is: Did they? Did they show you their hatred? Are these young sparks,” a short gesture pointed out the Autobots among his mechs, “the ones that ridiculed you? And when you were kicked out, treated like you were worth nothing, like your dedication was worth nothing, who did it? Who was responsible? I have seen terrible things done with the same… excuse your deceased leader used. I have seen the aftermath of Decepticons, my kin, burn down sparkling districts, for what? For nothing but to feed their need for lifeblood, so blind in their anger that they threw away what they were, who they were…” He shook his helmet. So many lost, so much gone forever…
“All of you need to decide on what is right is in your spark. Can you still call yourself Decepticon after washing every ounce of honor you had away with the energon of innocents? Is that what it takes to elevate the wrongs of the past? ‘Till all are one.’” A short, bitter laugh escaped his vocaliser. “Truer words never spoken. If none of us bury their grudges this war will rage until the last Cybertronian has joined the Well of Allsparks.”
The recognition was just another oddity of the very odd past orns. Strika thought for a moment, and there was silence. She knew this mech, for all they had never met... He presented his case more than sensibly. The fact that she did not really want to pit herself against him factored in to her decision, but it was the fact that he had put things in a manner that this would restore their honor that really set it. "You make a point. More than one. Very well. What would you command of us, my Lord?" Lugnut made a sound, but she silenced him with a squeeze. He would need things explained... he always did.
Before he could react a familiar screech sounded from somewhere to his right. “Yes, my lord, what would you command of us, oh mighty Megatron? And do it quick, I’m scrapping my thrusters on this rubble.” The sound of a ped kicking metal, probably a lost armor plate, shattered the silence.
And that was all that needed for him to slide into character again. Megatron huffed. “Well, Starscream, as you can’t wait for something to do, why don’t you assist Soundwave in clearing this field? I’m sure he can use someone to put to work. Soundwave,” His third was a presence at his side within a breem of his name being said. “I would appreciate some coordination. If you’ll excuse me, I have to discuss this matter further with the future leader of the Autobots and my new,” as well as old, “general here. Comm. me if you need anything.”
Strika recognized the voice, and certainly the name, if not quite the frame. This Starscream seemed to be at least a little better behaved than theirs was... or had been? She smiled, an unusual expression for her, and turned to Lugnut as Optimus came up. "You work with... Soundwave too. Trust me when I say this one is far more worth our loyalty." Lugnut looked at her so trustingly, and she caressed his arm as she let go.
Comm.ing Rodimus, Optimus thanked him for his help before telling him, too, to help Soundwave, and promising to talk to him as soon as things were worked out. He needed a second that he could trust not to try offlining him, and Rodimus would probably do well.
Waving the two of them along on his way back to the base, Megatron finally gave in to the urge he had had since his fight had ended. He scratched at the drying energon on his plating, muttering absentmindedly. “Fragging bastard… Should’ve submerged him into slowly dissolving acid…”
"Okay, I know I've been a little out of the loop, but... What makes you say that?" Strika asked, pulling out and offering a cleaning cloth. "And after that could you please explain... well, where you're from? The most I've been able to catch is space bridge error..." The not-so-little Autobot leader beside her had made a very agreeing noise to Megatron's words, with only made the femme more confuse and eager for answers.
Taking the cloth he began to rub at the spots, which seemed annoyingly adamant to cling to his chassis. “We have been sucked through your space bridge from, what I gathered the correct term is, another universe. After our arrival, the deactivated piece of junk back there saw fit to try again and took one of my most loyal commanders, Shockwave, prisoner. Whom he continued to rape within an inch of his Decepticon coding, I might add.” Cold anger underlined the last part. Sweet Primus, if he could gain the ability to revive the rust bag and kill him again and again… Not possible, therefore useless to contemplate. He would just have to channel his energy into helping Shockwave over it, something he had already started.
"Rape‽" Strika blurted, immediately pinging Lugnut. Her consort probably hadn't realized what he'd seen, but she needed some outside confirmation for an accusation like that. Lugnut did not know what he meant when he told her that yes, he had often seen Megatron go down to question the prisoner, very often. "I- I have nothing to say... He will be well again?"
“Shockwave is strong. It was a terrible experience and he needs me now more than ever before, but he will recover.” And he would be there, no matter how long it took. Whether it was to reassure him of his place among the Decepticons or to chase away a bad memory file. Her reaction to it was promising… There truly seemed to be enough of the Strika he knew in her to entrust her with the Decepticons of this universe.
"I... am truly glad to know that, sir." Both that the mech would recover, and that Megatron admitted he was needed. The way he did it meant he would be there for the mech, and that meant quite a lot. "Ah... About, um... him..." Strika motioned to the mech beside her, unsure of his name.
"Optimus," he answered, smirking a little at her. Other than that he was silent, hiding the... awe? Envy? Maybe it was fear that he felt... Things happened so fast. And slag it all, he was still more than a little aroused.
“Ah, yes. You probably wonder.” How to best put this? As so often he decided to use the heads on approach. “After we came here we encountered an Autobot giving us interesting information about the state of Cybertron in this universe. I decided to confront Optimus, as I know him as a warrior of great honor and skill, and do what I couldn’t for my world, when it was needed. Help him save Cybertron from the ones leading its population.” He let a proud and appreciative look wander over the Prime. “He did very well. Killed the Magnus himself and earned his place among us.”
Strika looked again at the shyly proud young mech, visibly appraising him, and now taking in the parts that didn't fit for an Autobot. He didn't flinch under her appraisal, and she ultimately nodded her approval. "Very nice. Congratulations," she told Optimus, deciding that she liked his smile.
Now if he didn’t know that look… “You two can fight that one out later. Right now I need at least a temporary arrangement to base further negotiations on and-” He paused for a moment, before continuing more silently. That thought had hit him unprepared but… “And then, when you get along on your own, I would like access to your combined scientific resources. If there is any way home we need to find it before the rest of my army has their afts handed to them by our Autobots. I don’t regret helping any of you, but we’ve been here almost too long already.”
The smirk turned, for just a moment, into concern. Optimus hadn't really considered what would happen when Megatron went back. Of course he had to... They could handle it. Simple as that, and he nodded to himself. "Bulkhead will probably know what to do. Maybe... even make them go both ways." That would be... very good. "If we can... I would like to see my counterpart..." He was smirking again.
Strika was greatly amused by the youth's reactions. "I will provide whatever help is required. At this point, I take it this means learning to... get along with Optimus." She didn't think it would be that hard, really.
That would be amusing… Optimus Prime seeing- well, basically himself. “Good, very good… I just hope we’re back by a time where there is still something left of my army. I swear one day I’m going to kill Motormaster, no matter the allegiance…” Hopefully Onslaught was there. Hopefully. They had reached the rec. room and with everyone else gone that would suffice. “Well, let us begin.”
Both Decepticons, from simple lack of knowing the mech mentioned, ignored their leader's muttering. It didn't take Strika long to realize that, young as Optimus was, he was bright and learned fast. Being a Decepticon seemed to agree with him, and they would certainly be able to work together. Work began on the space-bridge, using the first faulty one as a baseline. Ultimately, Bulkhead said he was 'very' sure that, not only could Megatron and his people go back home, but they could set their bridge to come back to this universe at will. They would be trying in the morning, and there was something Shockwave needed to do. He hadn't had a chance to know the new Megatron... but he was going to take this night to see if his own counterpart... wanted.
Shockwave was awake. He had been on a lot of nights, for a while… First because he was never sure when the twisted version of his Lord would come to torture him again, then because he couldn’t get rid of the memory files. Not always, but every so often they resurfaced, leaving him shooting awake out of deep recharge, gasping for air to cool his chassis and sure he was back in his cell again.
His Master had been kind, there for him… yet tonight he hadn’t wanted to bother him. Until now recharge hadn’t come. He wasn’t sure whether that wasn’t a blessing.
He pinged the door, lightly, not really surprised when it opened. His other was awake... Shockwave came in, looking at his counter and saying nothing. Shockwave was betting that Shockwave would know what he was silently offering.
He hadn’t expected any visitors tonight… Half curled up on his berth, Shockwave watched his other self with a dim yellow optic. Megatron had said he had helped them find him… freely. He had also fought at their side, which meant much for their kin.
But could he? He hadn’t been with anyone but his Master since… since his capture. Yet the idea of someone so much like him, maybe even compatible?, was appealing. Unfolding a little, the Decepticon relaxed against the headboard of his berth, giving his own invitation.
He remained silent as he closed the door and took the invitation, nuzzling the other mech's legs lightly as he did so. Why use words when they understood each other without them? He would have to pay quite a lot of attention to Shockwave... The idea was appealing, very much so. He was rather interested in the protruding chest, just one of the differences between them...
Shuddering slightly at the contact, he welcomed his double into his embrace, his hand sliding down the other’s curved back plating to rest on his aft, skimming over his impossibly narrow waist. The whole design so very streamlined compared to his own, even if it had more edges than most of the local Autobots he had seen. “Your setup is quite pleasing, if unusual to me…”
"There is much I am interested in on your frame," he answered, having to fit himself to his twin's side for there to be enough room. Shockwave didn't mind, there was a lot he could reach from here. "...I have never found... anyone willing to be with me as... we need. With others..." Information, offer, the words were there for Shockwave to handle however he saw fit.
It made sense. With uplink being the favored form of interface here… The conclusions that made for were less than favorable. A life like his, only without ever sharing pleasure with another, and being expected to use something that hurt him more than anything else Shockwave had ever experienced, instead of just reluctantly asked now and then, as a kink or out of curiosity.
The purple mech let his fingers wander over the other’s panel. “You have now.”
"Ahh..." It was a long, oddly flat, moan, and Shockwave arched into the light touch, heat already rising in his frame. He would find others, now, he was sure of that. Still rare, but with those in power, it would become less rare... "Yes. I have..." He focused on the flat panel the other mech had, like his own chest but further out. "What alt do you have?" He hadn't seen it, but then, he had been rather busy.
“I am a gun-former.” Not an alt form of much use if you were on your own, but it made for a lot of fire power. The trick was to kick enough aft in root mode not to need your alt. “You are?” His digits continued to massage the plating between his counterpart’s thighs. A virgin… It would doubtlessly underline the size difference.
Gun. That was a rather... odd alt form. It clearly worked, though... "Hot... uh. Tank! Tank..." But the hand felt good, and knowing it wasn't just idle, that this mech was perfectly willing to- "Ohhh..." He arched up again, scrapping a sensor horn against one of Shockwave's audios by mistake. It felt wonderful to him, though...
A tank. Not bad… The accidental contact made his systems give a short, harsh rev. Oh, he was definitely warming up. That he had only one hand had never kept Shockwave from anything. Applying his strength, he boosted the smaller mech into his lap, optic to optic with him, and leaned in, this time deliberately rubbing his antenna against the other’s antler.
It felt as good to him? Shockwave revved back, optic darkening, as he straddled his other and tilted his head, increasing the contact. He was... curious, though. After a moment's thought, Shockwave trailed a clawed hand over one of his own ports, shivering a little. "If you wish to try... warn me?" He was willing to try, curious, but willing for it not to happen. It was up to his double.
It was out of the question, what his counterpart meant. The slight shudder racking across his chassis was purely instinctual. He could have lived happily without ever trying an uplink again, even before this journey… but this was different, wasn’t it? This was him, more or less, suffering from the same incompatibility, so in theory… “I want to try.”
He shook, opening the port and then embracing his other for a long moment. He had brought it up, though, and he was determined to go through with in. "You... plug in- If it does not... work, it will spare you the... majority..." Of the pain. Shockwave couldn't bring himself to say that, bad enough recalling the many painful trials. He had caught glimpses, though, enough to know that if it worked, they would both feel glorious. Even better, if they used their more natural method to interface as well.
The memories were still too fresh to even think of declining the offer. If it didn’t work they’d still both suffer… Shockwave shook off enough of the apprehension to release his plug. If it didn’t work, they could end it quickly and he would make it up to the other. After all, there were ways to share pleasure they knew would work. Bringing his connection cable into position he tried to keep his shivers at a minimum. There was the port… compatible, that much was evident and-
The plug slid home.
He shivered and gave a low cry from sheer instinct as the connection was made. Shockwave's hand was already moving, covering his other's hand and holding it there. It didn't hurt. It didn't hurt... That was the first thing Shockwave could process, and he slowly relaxed, letting the not-really foreign systems to further overlap his own. "F- finish it...!" His voice was colored by eagerness, and Shockwave offered his plug to the other mech.
It didn’t-? His spark jolted in its casing. He would be able to share this? The only thing keeping him from fumbling with the other’s cable was the very real possibility that he could damage the delicate thing with his blunt fingers. Shockwave completed the circle, almost ducking with the expectation of what was to come- it didn’t. Didn’t hurt him either, there was a feeling of… sliding together, their systems synchronizing, but nothing uncomfortable. The purple mech released a vent of air he hadn’t realized he had been holding.
There were differences between their programs, and Shockwave was aware that he was stealing bits of coding to optimize his own. He was also aware that Shockwave was stealing bits of his coding, also to optimize. Neither fact worried him. They were... each other. He scraped his horn against the antenna, and gave a needy, whimpering moan at the dueled sensation. For the first time, Shockwave felt... normal.
Oh! This was good… Pulling the smaller mech closer to his chassis, he kept the motion up, wishing, not for the first time during interface, he had two hands. So he had to let go of the pert aft in his grip to reach between them and toy with his counterpart’s panel again. “Open for me.”
He opened eagerly, just the least nervous, and tentatively sent a pulse along the uplink. "What do you want me to do?" If the other wanted, he could control nearly every aspect of his body, and Shockwave would allow it. It would be the least he could do, and more than likely enjoyable for him as well. But it did seem that would be a very complicated form of self-pleasure... The unexpectedness of another's actions was what had already made this so charging.
“I want you to enjoy this.” His fingers looked rather big against his double’s interface unit. Dimming his optic a little, he explored the components with care. “You are aware of the mechanics?”
He almost wasn't able to answer, body going limp at the careful touch. "Yes." He had also explored his own chassis... who hadn't? It had been the only form of sexual pleasure available for him, as well, and so he was quite familiar with what he had and what felt good. Sharing this with another who did not find it somehow gross... Shockwave did it eagerly.
“Good.” This would be a little difficult in this position but Shockwave would rather not find out whether he could hold himself up single handedly after his first overload topping in a while and simultaneously whether the smaller one’s plating was sturdy enough to withstand his weight if he couldn’t. How to go about it… “Lean back and brace yourself on my legs.”
"Lovely legs..." he muttered, doing as told. It meant no more antler-rubbing, but anticipation was enough to make up for that. He would be having a spike in him soon, for the first time, and Shockwave couldn't help the tiny motions of his hips that came from the idea. Something inside him, beside his own clawed digits...
The purple mech purred at the show of want, of eagerness. “The compliment is appreciated. The same can be said about yours…” Slim, like the rest of his chassis. Very lovely, indeed. The components under his hand were warming, becoming damp with the first sheen of lubricant, every sensation he inflicted prickling over their uplink connection. A sensation as arousing as it was new to him. Shockwave smoothed one blunt finger over the other’s valve, testing and trying to heighten his pleasure, get him ready to be prepared.
Shockwave moaned again, actively moving against the hand now. He wasn't so sure that any part of him was 'lovely'... but the words made him hotter. Moving his hand down to Shockwave's panel, trying to avoid the other's hand, he asked, "May I... feel?"
“Of course, lover.” A few clicks and his panel slid aside, his systems ready enough for his spike to pressurize. It brushed against the smeller one’s claws, making him gasp. So different to the touch he was used to… Shockwave pressed his own finger deeper slowly, a pleased sound breaking from his vocaliser when his other self’s valve gave to him. “Do you play with yourself like this? Touch these parts and wish it was another?”
"Yes..." Shockwave moaned, curling into himself a little as he unconsciously tried to keep the sensations inside and not let them escape. "Yes... So often..." He had liked that gasp, and ran his hands across the spike to get another. It was going to fit in him? It would... They were closer in size than Optimus and Megatron, and he had seen that work, but... It looked big!
“But it was never enough, was it? It never is. Oh, it’s good and it makes you overload, but it’s lacking…” How well he knew that. Vorns upon vorns, keeping watch, mostly alone, hoping, praying that his Lord was still alive out there, that their cause and the better part of their species wasn’t lost… “This will be enough.” He started to move his digit, small, pumping motions that made the other’s entrance clench and lubricate, fluid coating his finger and hand. The smaller mech would be ready for another soon, and then another…
"No... yes... Please...!" Shockwave was not sure what he was answering, and took refuge in once again exploring the uplink they shared. It was something he could think about, something he could, barely, process, the warmth of systems so close to his own. He could feel the finger moving in him, from both sides, and he trembled with the effort not to force his other to give him more. He only succeeded because he knew there was no malice in the required wait.
The need he got from his other almost made him act too soon, but he fought for control. If they wanted to enjoy this both to the full extent, he had to do this right. Another of his fingers found his way into the wet heat of his counterpart’s body and Shockwave hissed with the stretch he saw and felt over their connection. He had never been quite this tight himself… When he was up to three he deemed the smaller mech ready enough, pressing in deep one last time before pulling out and groping his lover’s aft and lifting him slightly. “Move in close, you set the pace. I will help you stay up as long as you need.”
He mewled in a way that would normally make him feel very embarrassed when the digits were pulled from him. It didn't matter, though, because oh, this would feel so good. He had to reach and feel where the spike was in relation to his valve, not adept enough with uplinks to do it that way. Not that uplinks were 'meant' to be used like that... "Ah! Ahh..." Shockwave knew enough to go slowly as he took the spike into himself, but it was so hard... "Shockwave..." he moaned, loving the 'fit' of his name on another.
His helmet fell back, impacting on the berth head audibly, a groan making his voice box vibrate. Yet he kept his grip steady, let his counterpart sink down as slow as he wished, as he needed it. So tight, so hot… Would he fit in all the way?
He admired his other, very much so. Shockwave did not think he would be capable of the self-control the other was displaying. But then, this wasn't the other mech's first real interface, and so perhaps that explained it. Probably did... Down and down, he could feel every part of the spike as it entered his never-used valve, and then there was no more. Everything was in, which was just as well, because he had no room for larger.
Their abdominal plating met and Shockwave couldn’t stop an involuntary buck. He managed to still again, but it was hard. Hopefully his counterpart would be ready soon… and remember that he was the one who had to start. If the purple mech didn't, he wasn’t sure he would be able to keep his promise and let the smaller one control this.
Just as he was getting a little used to it, Shockwave moved, and Shockwave gave a low cry. It hadn't hurt, but it was so... much. Shockwave knew it was rather selfish of him, but he took a long moment to savor the sensations before being able to even think about lifting himself up, and then he had to drop almost as soon as he got up. How was he supposed to move when it was so overwhelming?
It seemed his double was having difficulties. Taking a deep intake, Shockwave tried to clear his processor enough to find a solution. “Lean- lean forward, hold on to me if you like…” His hand gave up keeping the smaller one up, which effectively dropped him the last bit onto him again and made them both shudder, to push against his back plating.
He did lean forward, but found no place to rest his hands. After a moment, he rested them on the protruding chest, giving a gasp at the frisson of pleasure the uplink provided. He could move a little better now, and managed to get through another cycle of out and in. The next time he tried, it was a little easier, and even more easy the next time.
His lover’s pace quickened, his valve clenching around his spike time and time again until Shockwave couldn’t keep still anymore. Resting his hand against a slim hip, he started to move with his counterpart, their combined effort driving him home even deeper. It felt incredible, something only enhanced by their uplink, by feeling both of their pleasure at once.
Oh, that was even better, and Shockwave moaned and mewled at the sensations. He was able to use the uplink to equalize their pleasure, and the mech thought that was probably the only reason he hadn't overloaded already. Even that wasn't going to help soon... He pushed himself down and back, desperate for more, just a little more, for something…
They were connected more closely than he had ever experienced before but Shockwave still felt as if something was missing, that there was something more- was he? Was his other? It didn’t matter, they needed it both. But what-? The clawed hand on his chest plating slipped, sending another shock of pleasure through him and giving him an idea of what they were longing for. Hesitancy was instinctual yet… whom could he trust if not his counterpart?
The thought and desire zinged through the uplink, and Shockwave gasped, looking up to meet the yellow optic of his other. He opened his plating, eager to show the trust he gave his other. He owed Shockwave quite a lot... He would never have been violated if that one hadn't been attracted- Shockwave closed those thoughts away, not wanting to lose any further pleasure.
A taste of dark thoughts crept across their connection, but it was shushed quickly and all that stayed was trust and warmth and that spark laid bare for him. Beautiful. He couldn’t stop looking, even as he felt his own chest part in response to his lover’s offer. Now this… this was something he had never done. Shockwave didn’t think his counterpart had either but… Leaning forward tentatively, he brought their essences closer together.
Pleasure even greater than uplinking or riding his other rocked through him, and Shockwave couldn't even scream, the emotions and sensations stealing his voice. What shocked him was how different they were, how lives and feeling and thoughts and circumstance made them unique, for all their similarities. Merging had been a very good idea, and Shockwave began to shake and moan as overload started to trickle in an increasing flood.
They mingled even more, slid even closer together, until the purple mech couldn’t tell their thoughts, their feelings, apart anymore, and there was so much blinding pleasure- A low shout, he was almost sure it was his, and they were overloading, energy crackling over their open chest plating, his spike buried as deeply into his counterpart as it could go- or was he the one receiving? It didn’t matter...
Feeling. Emotion. Oneness. And then it was fading, but that was just fine, it was right, and everything was perfect, just for a while. He moaned and carefully lay against his other as their chests closed. Recharge came relentlessly, and they could do nothing but surrender, still joined and plugged in.
Megatron was puzzled. They were all but ready to go, his mechs armed and assembled… all of them save one. Had it been Starscream, he would have tried to curb the urge to hit his helmet against something solid and ordered his biggest, meanest soldier (apart from him, of course) to drag the slagger in by the wingtips. Had it been Soundwave he would have been sure the world was about to end.
It was Shockwave. Something he had never expected so… he was puzzled. And searching for him, rather worried if he admitted it to himself. He found him where he should have looked for him first, in his quarters. It just hadn’t occurred to him that his lieutenant might have overrecharged so badly, but as soon as the door opened it was very clear how this had happened.
A small smile tugged at the warlord's derma plates. How cute…
He made his way over to the berth, watching the two curled up mechs a moment longer, then he reached out to shake the blocky one slightly. “Good morning, Shockwave. Time to get up…”
Shockwave onlined, thoroughly confused. He could have sworn he was hearing his Lord’s voice but… hadn’t he gone to berth with another? His optic onlined dimly. A klick and a check of his chrono later it shot to full brightness. Oh Primus, he was so late-!
He didn’t bolt right away, he couldn’t. His counterpart was still recharging on him and- there was a hand on his arm. A hand he would recognize anywhere. “M-my Lord?”
Voices. His other, and... Megatron. And he was still uplinked to his double... Shockwave couldn't manage to boot up faster, he just felt too good to speed the process. He did online his optic, and he already knew he had made the other late... "I apologize. I did not anticipate the need for an alarm..." Not that either of them had been in any condition to set an alarm, but that was very secondary. He sat up slowly, and just as slowly disconnected the cables which connected them.
Megatron wished he could have said that it wasn’t important, that there was no need to hurry. Not only because he wouldn’t have minded seeing if this universe’s Shockwave could be convinced of trying half of what he had done last night with the Decepticon leader himself… but his mechs were waiting. He nodded at the two of them. “See to it that you join us at the Space Bridge, Shockwave.” They could likely use some privacy right now.
Shockwave’s anxiety dissolved into gratefulness. He had served too long under his Master to miss the unspoken ‘I’ll see how long I can cover for you.’ So they would likely have enough time to get cleaned up and say goodbye…
He fancied that he could feel the other relax at Megatron's words. All Shockwave did was nod as the silver mech left, and then look around for the washracks. He didn't really want to be there when they left, but that didn't mean he would abnegate his duty. There was no way he would go in public still smelling of interfacing, still streaked with a slightly different purple than his own, and there was no way he would allow his other to either. What they had done was private. Only Megatron had the right to know about it.
The bigger mech pushed his counterpart off him gently, then pulled him along into the cleanser. They hadn’t been too rough last night, all it would take was a thorough polishing to erase the traces… not that he really wanted to. He wanted to keep them… but he didn’t want to show them to everyone either. He would keep the memory of what they had done. That would be enough.
Half an hour later, after a most sweet and tender cleaning and polishing, Shockwave stood a little ways back from Optimus and Strika, watching the visiting Decepticons filter through the space bridge. He did not visibly react when his double went through, after Megatron, Starscream, and Soundwave. When the last of the visitors vanished, the bridge was shut off, and a moment later the assembled mechs seemed to shake themselves. Optimus and Strika stepped up and began to direct their respective people, and stability began to return.
Well, that's actually all that's written, though there's more planned. Posting more would just raise questions, so I'll leave it here until the next arc is done. Then I'll post more.