Transformers Brainrot

This new universe was different from all the others. Of course that was expected, it was an alternate universe, but this universe truly was different from all others, there always were differences between universes, but there were always similarities as well. 

Names, paint colours, alt modes. General body shapes and detailing. It rarely differed so drastically. 

This universe however, seemed to be the wild variable that Perceptor and Brainstorm kept theorising about.

In every multiversal theory it was believed that one or more realities would be something known as a ‘mirrorverse’ the complete opposite version of one or more realities, they had yet to encounter a universe like that, but Megatron has a hunch that this universe was an opposite adjacent universe.

A universe so different enough that it might as well be opposite.

The first stark difference of their universes was the body and build of these Cybertronians.

Ratchet almost had a spark attack when he first saw the Autobots of this world. They were tall, unnaturally so. Plating almost constantly split open to reveal internal wires and pistons, they barely had armour and the armour that they did have collected around their more..intimate body parts curved flush against their protoforms.

From the perspective of the Lost Light crew they looked ‘naked’ with their unnaturally curved and intricate dimensions. 

Then came the language, and their…quirks. The language had been a shock, of all the universes they had traveled, most had a language that was similar to Neocybex or galactic basic. This universe's language sounded more unique with growls and grunts integrated into the vocals. Thankfully these Autobots spoke English. 

Out of all the changes from universe to universe humanity stayed the same, their languages, customs and cultures, all the same. The other ‘quirks’ these bots had were what shocked Megatron the most, these Cybertronians acted almost animalistic.

Growling and grunting at one another in a silent social balance, steam puffing out from their snouts.

Megatron even noticed a few of them hissing at one another when he and his companion left the remains of Cybertron. It had been strange seeing the skeletal remains of the planet connected to earth. 

He lay down with his hands on his chest, resting over the red Autobot emblem boldly on display. Slowly, the former war lord zoned back in on what his new acquaintance was saying. 

“-The Cybertronian race reigned supreme over the galaxy, only then it wasn't the galaxy, it was the Cybertronian empire. Once the civil war broke out the colonies revolted. Soon our race began to dwindle, Cybetronians were hunted everywhere.” 

There was a mournful pause. Megatron tried to imagine a galaxy like that, united under Cybertronian rule, it was a reality so similar to his former goal. Something mournful inside his spark urged him not to dwell on the idea too much.

“Until I found a planet remote enough to have never been found. Earth. Our war traveled with us, but we fought it to the end. The humans did not trust us after the war was won. Then they too hunted us, aided by a bounty hunter named Lockdown.” 

Megatron’s fingers twitched. He remembered the bounty hunter in his universe, the one who he had hired to chase after Deadlock when he was still called Deadlock. The very same bounty hunter they fought on Luna 1 during the whole Tyrest situation. 

“He stole a ship from my crusader days, reformed it into his hunting vessel. He was sent by my creator.” The word was growled with so much malice it made Megatron pause, looking over at the red and blue mech who stared up at the stars.

“ I killed Lockdown. Then I started hunting for my creator, and I found her.” 

Megatron didn't know if it was his curiosity or his naivety that made him open his intake and ask. 

“What did you do?”

There was silence, and then-

“I killed her…with the help of a friend"

The former warlord blinked. He didn't know why the words shocked him so much, perhaps it was because of the mech they were coming from. His eyes traced the detailed faceplate, committing every crease and seam to memory.

The silver faceplate has scratches and dents, but the most notable mark was a gruesome horizontal scar that cut through the Mech’s eye dragging down the whole length of his face. The gash has been wedded shut, but the welds hadn't been smoothed out.

No, this scar looked polished. Meant to stand out against the rest of the metal. A testament to all he had fought and survived. 

The red and blue mech made a noise like a human clearing their throat, only deeper. “The cybertonian empire would never remerge, the galaxy was too vast and I had too few troops to reclaim it. So, I stayed on earth with the remaining Autobots-and the Decepticons who were smart enough to swear loyalty to me.”

Something dreadful and sharp pinpricked through Megatron’s spark, a question nagging at his processor. He swallowed, uncertainty coiling in his fuel lines. He needed to ask, he needed to know, because if he didn’t it would eat away at him.

“And your Megatron?” 

The mech finally turned away from the stars. Blue optics found red and Megatron’s spark shuddered. The Prime’s optics were a startling sapphire. It shocked him, not because of the glowing intensity of them, but because of the everlasting sadness that soaked into every crease and seam of the mech opposite him. 

“My Brother. In arms and in blood, although we did not share a Carrier. We shared everything else, upbringing, crusades, knighthood. Until he and The Fallen betrayed our family.” Something dark, ugly and twisted revealed itself in the Prime’s tone.. A shame that settled deep in Megatron’s core. Titles he has held his whole life rushing back to him, deceiver, traitor, killer. All so familiar and yet so distant. 

Once, just once would he like to meet or hear of a version of himself that did not travel the road of tyranny.

“The Fallen?” he asked, unfamiliar with the name.

The Prime returned his focus to the stars as if they held everything he ever wanted. “One of the original Primes. Megatron had always been closer to him than he was to our Sire. They held a coup.” 

There was a bitterness in the Prime Megatron had never seen, a grief, not for others but for himself. That in itself was so peculiar. The Optimus of his universe would have shouldered this grief instead of voicing it.

Megatron shuffled, turning his whole body towards the large Prime. Until he was close enough to hear the crackle in Optimus’s voicebox. 

“They killed every other Prime in our family, apart from myself and our Sire, Sentinel Prime.”

“Megatron was convinced he could…persuad me to see his side of things. How cybertron would be better off without the Primacy, and how it should be theirs to rule. My Sire and I declined their offer. The war began, and then I lost Sentinel during an aerial firefight. Years later I found Sentinel on Earth's moon, but he betrayed me, killed one of my most loyal soldiers, and joined forces with Megatron and The Fallen.”

“...you killed them all didn't you?” Megatron wanted to punch himself after he said the words.

Optimus laughed humourlessly, sitting up on the cool grass, his armour gleaming in the moonlight 

“I did. And I don't regret it. I know who I am. I know what I am.”

“Do you?” Megatron asked softly.

He was met with silence and he took that as his cue to keep talking.

“Because from what I can see, you’re no monster.” 

Anger pinched the mech’s face “And how would you know that? We’ve only spoken for…” Optimus suddenly trailed off. How long had they been talking? A few hours? Had it been sunrise when they began? They must have been talking for hours but it felt like they knew each other for several lifetimes. 

“I know you're not a monster, Optimus Prime. Because I am.” Megatron’s words were whispered. Confusion creased Optimus’s face and Megatron felt his spark start to hurt. He had hoped that he would ever have to speak about his past to his new companion. 

“Have you gone through the data pack Ratchet gave you?” Megatron asked, remembering how the red and white medic had distributed the data packs like candy to this universe's Autobots. Megatron would never admit it, but it hurt. Seeing Cybertronians in a different universe react to the atrocities he had committed. 

“Yes.” The Prime said simply. Megatron's spark ached knowing that the mech across from him knew his crimes so intimately and yet, Optimus still decided to speak to Megatron. To grant him knowledge of this universe and its history.

“Then you are aware of the crimes I have committed. The lives I have taken and the pain I have caused.” Megatron commented looking intently into the Prime’s optics. Surely this Prime, who had gone through war and horrors could understand the guilt that followed every mention of the war. 

“Let us be monsters.” the Prime said simply. 

“What?” the former warlord whispered. 

“Let us be monsters, we have both committed crimes, we have both killed, tortured and eviscerated others who stood in our way for a belief we curated. Either we sit here as hurt veterans, or we sit here as monsters.”

Megatron gaped. Red optics blown wide. The Prime’s lips twitch upwards, he found the Co-captians reaction cute.

“Let us be monsters.” Optimus repeated. Reaching out to touch Megatron’s servo. The servo inched just out of his reach.

“You truly are different from my Optimus.” Megatron admitted, the words slipping out his intake. Silently he wondered- 

Was this truly what redemption felt like? To lay in a field under the stars and speak after years of drowning in battle born of vengeance? 

Something dark passed over the alternate Prime’s faceplate. But it quickly disappeared as his arm inched back. He hummed curiously tilting his helm in thought. 

“The Enforcer? The one named Orion pax?”

“Yes that one.” Megatron confirmed laughing quietly, as if there could be any other Optimus in the universe, but now, he guessed there was. He tried to imagine the two meeting. Red and blue plating glinting together. The one he sat with would surely tower over the other, but it was a fascinating thought in his processor.

“I found it strange..that he had a name before.” Optimus muttered. 

“How so?” Megatron inquired, suddenly very intrigued. 

“I have no other name. I have been and always will be Optimus Prime. It was the name I was onlined with and it is the name I will be offlined with.” Optimus explained, brushing his servo across the soft grass. 

“You were born a Prime?!” Megatron exclaimed. 

“Yes? Is that so strange?” Optimus asked, laughing softly at Megatron's reaction. The former warlord stuttered, heat flushing his faceplate. 

“Well-i suppose not, but Optimus-my universe's Optimus only gained his name after he received the matrix of leadership.”

The red and blue mechs helm tilted. “How peculiar, it seems that is one of the differences between our universes. Prime is a title in both our worlds, but in mine it is a royal title to be passed down generations to the next pureblooded ruler.”

Megatron’s brow creased together “Is that what is most important? The purity of your internal energon?” how would they compare pure energon to impure energon? What was the difference that separated them?

“Yes, I mentioned before how me and the Megatron of my universe share a Sire but not a Carrier, my brother was baseborne, I emerged from my Sire’s Intended. Therefore i had a higher concentration of allspark energy within me, and my energon was ‘purer’” 

He considered the Prime’s words. He had read stories similar but they were all of human origin and were all works of fiction. But to hear it used practically was truly an experience. It sounded barbaric. But who was he to judge the traditions of another universe, especially after what he has done. 

“What of the matrix? You said you wielded it?” Megatron clarified. Optimus nodded, pressing a servo to the center of his chest, tracing the divots and seams of his armour. He truly was a canvas of ingenuity.

Each part of him looked like it was crafted by careful hands and perfected by steady ones. The more Megatron looked the more he realized that the Prime before him was forged for his role. He was perfect in every way that mattered. 

“I did. And I still do.”

Optimus opened his chest, plating the pieces separating seamlessly.

An object shot out, levitating above the Primes servo as it pulsed with blue light.

It was the matrix, the structure was different, the two triangular ends were drawn into points and were curled in opposite directions encasing a glowing orb in the center. 

Megatron couldn't help but gasp as Optimus slid the floating matrix from one hand to another. 

“What is its purpose in your universe? If not to choose the next Prime?” Megatron inquired leaning in closer to see the matrix. The skeletal structure was a sight to behold. 

Optimus smiled slightly at Megatron's curiosity. 

“The Matrix has the ability to reanimate any Cybertronian that has been offlined because of energon deprivation. It also had the ability to activate the Star Harvesters.”

“Star Harvesters?" Megatron blurted, snapping his attention back to the Prime, who slipped the matrix back into his chassis. 

“Machines used to transform the energy of suns into concentrated energon. That is why the Cybetronians from my world can partially fuel on sunrays.” Optimsu explained absently, gesturing to the more open parts of his armour that revealed his fuel lines. Fuel lines that fed off the sun. 

“Because it's just a weaker form of energon…” Megatron muttered, holding his chin in consideration.

Once brainstorm and preceptor found out about this he had no doubt the duo would investigate the possibility extensively.

Perhaps they could create something that could allow the Lost Light to fuel on sun rays? It would certainly save fuel and supplies. 

“Exactly.” Optimus nodded. And Megatron shook his head absently, the information finally settling in. 

“Facinating.” he whispered. Letting his hand fall from his chin. He looked up at the stars, each pulsing in the night sky.

With ever new universe they discovered the more they learned, both about themselves and about what truly creates an ‘alternate universe’ Megatron had never been much of a science enthusiast, but he appreciates the work and dedication the scientists aboard the Lost Light have for their creations and discoveries. 

Optimus’s hand slowly rose to hold Megatron's chin.

The grass beside him shuffled. 

“Your Optimus never truly appreciated you did he?” 

The question caught Megatron off guard, he spun. Freezing as he noticed how close Optimus had gotten. He stuttered, fumbling to lean back, but the Prime didn’t relent. Instead a blue hand reached out and cupped the side of Megatron’s faceplate.

The touch was warm but firm.

“I read the historical records, you and he shared a bond, you spoke multiple times before the Decepticons formed. He mentioned liking your writing.” Optimus continued, one of his fingers brushing back and forth and it took everything in Megatron to not lean into the touch like a starved cybercat. 

“I have read everything under your name.” Optimus confessed, pressing himself closer until their faceplates were an inch away. They filled each other's sights and neither wanted to look away for a moment. 

“I have found a love for your writing, Megatron.” Optimus whispered, tilting his helm to the side and leaning closer. Megatron clamped a hand onto Optimus's shoulder, stopping the Prime, his eyes squeezing shut as his face burned in heat and shame. 

“Optimus-” he choked. They couldn’t do this, this was wrong. He shouldn’t want this and he knew it. 

“Hush.” The unbearably soft command made Megatron’s entire frame slump. His eyes flickering open, and all he could see was Optimus. 

This is wrong. Megatron silently repeated to himself. 

This is wrong.

He shouldn't want what Optimus was giving him. He shouldn't ache for it like a starving sparkling. 

“Would you write a poem for this moment? I think it could be quite beautiful, a lament about meeting a different version of your former enemy.” Optimus probed his optics never leaving Megatron.

The former warlord was drowning. Drowning in a million words he wished he could put it to paper. His spark was the loudest it had ever been since the start of his journey on the Lost Light.

It thrummed and throbbed, battering his processor over and over to stop calculating and just say it. 

“I could write a thousand.”

“Truly?” Optimus leaned forward a teasing smile on his faceplate, a faceplate that had too many seams, too many rivets and details to describe in any piece of writing. 

Megatron pressed closer, watching the glow from his optics douse The Prime’s faceplate in red.

“Truly.” he whispered, parting his lips, he wanted to say more, to explain what he would write in those poems, to confess that they wouldn’t be laments, but confessions, sonnets and odes that said more than Megatron ever could. 

The Prime suddenly seized the opportunity given, joining their lips together in a kiss. 

The kiss was uncharacteristically soft for a kiss of two monsters. 

-

Weeks passed and Megatron fell into a routine. He’d wake at dawn, watch the sun rise over the hills and the broken cybertron now stuck to the side of Earth, then he’d write, and he’d write and write.

Sometimes Optimus would join him in the mornings, he wouldn’t speak, he just watched Megatron.

A silent muse watching their beloved artist create in their image. 

Megatron knew he should have never let himself get comfortable in this universe.

Their adventures across the multiverse had hardly started and Megatron knew they'd likely never end. Now his park ached as he tucked another datapad into his subspace. One of the many datapads he had stuffed with ballads and Elegies. 

The hissing of a door told Megatron that Optimus had returned. He didn't need to wait long  for his suspicions to be confirmed. 

“You should stay with me.” 

Megatron looked up from his packing, spotting the red and blue mech leaning against the doorway of their habsuite with his arms crossed over his chest and an angry but pleading look on his face. 

“I overheard your crew speaking about leaving soon.” Optimus continued pushing off the doorframe, marching over to Megatron, quickly grasping the mech’s hands on his own. 

“You would be safe here, far away from your trial, far from….everything.” Megatron didn't miss the pleading in Optimus's voice.

They had grown closer, closer than they should have. Memories of shared nights suddenly rose up in Megatron's mind and the sickness in his spark flared. 

“I can't,” he whispered , shaking his head and slipping his hands out of Optimus's grip. 

“You can.” Optimus argued. Snatching his hands back. Megatron sighed, he should have expected this, but something small in his spark thought that maybe he should stay here, stay with Optimus and the other Cybertronians on this strange cybertron. 

“I swore an oath of peace-” Megatron was cut off before she could get another word in. 

“I would never make you fight, I only wish to keep you safe.” Optimus confessed pressing closer to his lover. 

“By fighting? I know how your leadership works. Only the strongest survive.” Megatron scoffed. It had been one of the many things that intrigued him about this universe’s Autobots.

Much like his Decepticons, the Autobots of this universe believed that the strongest should lead, thus duels and fights broke out constantly within their ranks, but Optimus always remained at the top.

Something about how the purity of his blood granted him power along with the presence of the matrix discouraged many from challenging him. 

“You are strong.” Optimus insisted. 

“I will not fight.” Megatron groaned, his optics downcast. He hated speaking about his supposed strength. He knew he was strong, but hearing others speak about it especially in regards to his ability to harm and kill just made the Decepticon-turned-Autobot sick. 

“Then I will fight for you.” 

Megatron’s helm snapped up, old rage boiling up. 

“I am not yours to fight for.”

“Arent you?” Optimus growled back. Megatron jolted, snapping out of his impulsive anger. 

“Optimus-” Megatron began but Optimus did not stop, crowding closer to Megatron until he was pressed against the edge of the nearby berth. The presence of the mech in front of him made Megatron want to sink into the floor and never remerge.

He didn’t just feel small, he felt weak.

“They do not deserve your loyalty.” Optimus continued, keeping Megatron pinned. 

“It only took me weeks to realise you are miserable there, you have been with them for years, and yet they haven't noticed.” Optimus was angry. Megatron didn't know why, but it scared him.

To see a mech he cared for- a mech he loved, to be angry with him. But he couldn’t give in, he couldn’t betray his oath, and he couldn’t betray his crew, because if he did then he didn’t know what would become of him. He needed to make Optimus understand.

“I hurt them, you know I have hurt millions-”  Megatron pressed, bringing a servo up and placing it gently on Oprimus’s chest, right above where the matrix of leadership was stored. He could feel the thumping of Optimus’s spark. 

“You are repenting.” Optimsu whispered, unwilling to give up any ground in their metaphorical battlefield. 

“That does not erase what I have done!” Megatron snapped, why did it hurt so much to argue with Optimus? A warm servo pressed against the one he held to the Primes chest. Megatron allowed himself to be pulled closer. 

“You have changed, for the better.” the words were whispered into his audial.

Something old and vile crept up his spinal strut. Some ancient feeling rushing up again, pride. He felt it like an old disillusioned friend. 

“I-”

As soon as the syllable left his intake he was shoved back. Falling and hitting the berth on his back. He blinked and suddenly Optimus was on top of him, servos pinned on either side of his head. The Prime’s faceplate drawn into an angered sneer. Eyes blazing in a paralyzing sapphire.

“My Megatron died, and I was the one to kill him! I watched his burning corpse fall through earth's atmosphere. I watched him die because he never admitted he was wrong. You have. The rage was animalistic. A combustion of anger and annoyance lashed out at Megatron and he flinched. 

It was quiet for a nano-klick. Then Optimus whispered. 

“Do you see me as a monster now?” there was something so soft in his voice that made Megatron melt. The tension that coiled in his body released like a gunshot. 

“No. You did what you had to” Megatron didn’t know if he was talking about the slaughter of his alternate self or the explosive reaction. The temporary pause didn’t last long as Optimus sat up. 

“As did you.”

Megatron rose up from the berth slowly. His arms servo rising up to caress the Autobot brand that sat front and center on his chest. 

“That's not the same…” he whispered. For a moment he didn’t even know if Optimus had heard him. 

“It is, in fact I'd argue that you had more of a reason to kill than I do.” 

Another buzzing silence filled the room, and Megatron was reminded why their debate started in the first place. 

“...I’d like to see your world more, but I will not stay indefinitely.” 

When Megatron looked up he could have sworn he saw a glint of a smile on the Prime’s face, but Optimus’s dull response betrayed nothing of his joy. 

“Of course.”

-

A month passed and Megatron grew restless again. His crew had left and he was the only one who stayed. There had been an explosive fight between himself and Rodimus when he had told the co-captain that he was staying.

Rodimus had cursed and yelled at first before making Megatron pinky swear three times that he would return to the Lost Light. 

It had been a month since that fight, and Megatron’s guilt had been steadily eating away at his core ever since. It felt similar to the start of his journey on the Lost Light when the war was fresh in his mind.

When he had been stripped raw of every weapon and defence he could ever muster. When Startscream had read him to filth at his court hearing. 

“You need to let. Me. Go. Back” It was noon when Megatron made his plea, he had learned Optimus's schedule quickly, noting when the Prime was most agitated or calm after meetings. 

“You are not safe with them.” Optimus dismissed, waving a hand. 

“Nowhere is safe.” Megatron mumbled, annoyed. 

That got the Prime’s attention. 

“You are safe here, with me.” He emphasized, fully towards Megatron and stalking closer to the grey mech. 

“I do not feel safe.” Megatron whispered and he watched as everything about the Prime softened, a servo pinched Megatron's chin, slowly tilting his helm up. 

“Why? You have not fought anyone, none of my subjects will challenge you for your position. You have abided by your oath.” Optimsu asked slowly, his clawed fingers caressing Megatron's faceplate. Holding him softly, like he was something precious that would break at any moment. 

“I abandoned them.” Megatron whispered, voice cracking. It strained his spark to admit it, but that's exactly what he did, didn’t he? He abandoned his crew. Abandoned the few mechs that trusted him.

Optimus’s body went rigid. His hand drifted to his lover's back, pulling Megatron closer until they were pressed against each other. Optimus buried his helm in his lover's neck, muttering softly in his ear. 

“Your crew never appreciated your leadership. They never appreciated you. They never cared. You said it yourself, they hate you.”

Megatron shivered, but the Prime didn’t stop. 

“But I? I love you, Megatron. My subjects respect you as my consort. You can be who you’ve always wanted to be here. You do not need them, you do not need to return to them. You owe them nothing.”

Megatron was silent. Processing the honeyed words, his hands were lax at his sides but he yearned to pull them up. To push Optimus away and demand to leave this universe. But then the Prime uttered the few words that could bring the great Megatron to his knees. 

“Stay here with me, my love.”

Megatron’s arms lifted, his servos carefully wrapping around Optimus’s curved shoulders.

They both stood there for a moment, caressing each other's frames so delicately. Just as Optimus wondered if Megatron would finally leave, the grey mech drew back. Teary red optics looked up at Optimus with two universes worth of love and longing. 

“...I’ll stay.”

Optimus made a pleased purring sound as he nuzzled in closer to the grey mech, pressing quick kisses to Megatron’s neck. 

-

The doors to Optimus’s throne room slammed open. The loud clap jolted every guard to attention.

Megatron stormed in, eyes blazing. The red gaze snapping towards the regal red and blue mech who sat on the throne in the center of the room. Megatron's heavy breathing filled the room, the guardian knights glanced from the angry mech to their ruler, awaiting orders.

Optimus flicked his wrist, a sharp and silent dismissal. Plating shuffled and suddenly the only mechs left in the room were Optimus and Megatron. 

“Why are my crew in the brig!?” Megatron yelled, as soon as the door clicked shut. His engine rumbled, revving louder and louder the longer Optimus kept silent. 

“Your ‘crew’ tried to kidnap you.” The calm response made Megatron’s mood simmer down, he still burned with anger, but the fire that blazed in his spark stuttered a bit. 

“Knowing them, they just wanted to talk.” he snapped at the Prime, crossing his arms over his chest. Hound had been the one to tell Megatron about his crew's uninvited visit and their quick imprisonment.

Hound was a brash and abrasive mech, armed to the teeth with munitions and every kind of weapon ever distributed, Hound had also been one of the first alternate Autobots to accept him into their ranks. 

“If they wished to speak with you then they should have called, instead of breaking into my palace.” Optimus’s words were unnervingly calm and that didn’t settle the rage boiling in his fuel lines. 

“They didn't intend to cause any harm.” he pressed, he knew his crew, even if they were incredibly  foolish at times they would never intentionally cause harm to another sentient being. 

“They intended to take you away!” Optimus snapped his voice echoing across the throne room, he rose up from his throne and marched over to Megatron. The grey mech shrunk in on himself.

There were a few times where he noticed how other mechs acted when Optimus was around, they treated him with respect, bowing their helms and offering kind words. Optimus was an intimidating mech, but Megatron had never felt intimidated by him, until now. 

“I wouldn’t have let them.” Megatron whispered, the words tasting sour.

Would he have? Or would he have leapt into Rodimus and Magnus's arms the moment he saw them?

Optimus raised an optical ridge.

“Really? Because I can see that you still feel guilt over not attending your trial.” he pressed closer, glowering over Megatron, their breaths mingling together. 

“I wouldn’t let them execute me.” Megatron insisted, pressing his hand to the center of Optimus's broad chest, nudging the mech back and inch. Looking up at his lover's faceplate he saw just how sad Optimus's optics were. 

“But you would let them imprison you.”

He sighed. 

“That is different…”

“But you suffer either way.” 

Megatron finally broke away from Optimus, arms crossing over his chest. 

“I don't want to argue with you, Optimus.” he pleaded watching the red and blue mech pause. Something lodges itself in Megatron’s throat, fear or uncertainty, he could no longer tell which was which. 

“Then we're not arguing. But as long as you breathe, I will oppose anything that causes you suffering." the rebuttal stung, and Megatron let himself be swept up into Optimus's arms again. 

“Let my crew go.” he whispered one last time, he didn’t go with them last time and he wouldn’t this time. He would stay, willingly. He knew that and clearly Optimus knew that too, telling by the pleased rev of his engine. He would never leave the Primes side, but would his crimes continue to chase him? Probably. 

“Very well, but they will be warned, if they return they will be killed.”

Megatron jerked in Optimus's grasp, but the Prime's grip held true. 

“You do not need-” he stuttered, he knew the Lost light crew were stubborn, but the Optimus of his universe-everyone on cybertron everyone he ever hurt, they would always demand justice.

He would always be hiding from them, from his actions and hiding from his own consciousness. 

"I do not regret becoming strong enough that no one can ever take what is mine again." Optimus purred, stroking the back of Megatron's helm. 

“You need not feel guilt over the same thing.” He continued. Megatron snapped, he couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t stand Optimus’s dismissals anymore. 

“Optimus.. I am a criminal, your interference will only make you and your people a target. I won't be complicit in hurting anyone else.” 

“You won't be. Optimus stressed. 

‘’I will be instead’ went unsaid between them 

“You can't know that-” he was sharply cut off before he could utter another word. 

“I do! Because even if my alternate self comes for you with an army at his back I will not stop fighting, not until they are all dead. I will keep you safe, Megatron. They will never harm you again. I will never make you raise a servo.”

Megatron opened his intake to argue back. To explain himself further, he needed Optimus to know that he has treasured every shared moment they had, that the memory of this universe and the memory of him, would always make Megatron spark swell with love.

The guilt had been slowly eating away at him, day after day. He didn't want to go back but he needed to. For justice and for his own sanity.

Lest he lose himself in Optimus's arms. He needed to go back so he could be tried and so that this universe wouldn't have to go through any hardship because of him. 

Thick claws pierced his neck cabling. 

Energon swelled, hot and gushing. He choked, coughing around the sickeningly familiar liquid. The pink liquid splattered against Optimus’s red and blue plating. 

“Optimus?” Megatron wheezed, vocoder crackling unnaturally and the Prime’s grip tightened. 

“I’m starting to grow tired of arguing with you, my love.” 

Dread coiled around the Megatron spark as he blinked, his intake moving uselessly. His limbs suddenly felt so heavy, so helpless. 

A crackle of static escaped him and the claws sank in deeper. He wasn't just choking on the energon he was swallowing it in gulps. 

“Let's not speak of this anymore.” 

The hand in his throat turned into a fist. Clamped around his voicebox. He tried to thrash, to fight against the immovable force. But his limbs didn’t rise to the call. They dangled at his side, useless. 

Then the hand pulled, then ripped. 

Megatron wanted to scream but the noise never came out, He flailed uselessly against the Prime’s grip. Optimus looked down at his hand and Megatron followed his gaze. 

Looking at the energon soaked hands, his voicebox squeezed between the Prime’s fingers. 

He was let go and Megatron crashed to the floor in a bloody puddle. Numb hands reached up to feel the gaping hole in his throat. He felt the created edges of wire and metal but he couldn't take his eyes away from the energon. 

He watched the energon-his energon splatter and pour onto the smooth floor. He coughed, and the pink puddle grew into a sea. 

Megatron heard the sound of metal rattling and realised he was shaking. Something other than engeron dripped down his faceplate and Megatron realised he was crying. No, he wasn't crying, he was sobbing. His body wracked with frantic silent grief. 

the weight of a broad chest pressed at his back, he didn't need to look up to know it was Optimus. Cold, wet hands slithered across his shoulders, clawed tips tracing his transformation seams . Megatron froze under the touch. 

It was soft. 

Megatron wanted nothing more than to lean into it to be consumed by it.

He opened his mouth, and nothing but energon came out. 

“Hm, I’ll have crosshairs look at you. But we don't need to rush.” Optimus purred and Megatron wished he could gag in revulsion. 

He tried to speak again. To express exactly how he was feeling to the Prime- the lover, he had devoted himself to. 

“I rather like you, like this.”