Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was odd, the sensation of awakening when you had already been up for quite some time. Megatron smiled as he felt his mate’s spark reach out for his, their freshly-forged bond still edged with the raw emotions of their coupling only a few joors prior.

:Good morning, Optimus.: Megatron smiled through their link.

:Good morning, Megatron.: Optimus slurred lazily, his voice deeper with the last dredges of sleep. Megatron felt the part of his spark that was Optimus spreading through his chassis like a warm, sleepy blanket, waves of love and utter adoration gently washing over him until he felt like he was about to overflow.

:How are you feeling?: Megatron asked, pulsing his own love across the bond. The distinct image of Optimus in the throes of overload crossed his processor, and Megatron started, unsure of whether it was his sparkmate’s subconscious who conjured it or his own. Sparkbonds were curious things.

Optimus chose to respond by nestling his end of the bond into a corner of Megatron’s spark chamber, tucking himself around his mate’s spark the best he could while curled up like he was. Megatron smiled again, wrapping around his little mate, doing his best to surround Optimus's essence in himself. He tried to extend the love he felt back in equal measure, but it had been a long time since he'd had room for such soft things, and Megatron knew it would be even longer before he could reciprocate them the way Optimus did.

Whatever he did seemed to be working, because the tight ball of energy relaxed, unfurling on itself and melting into its sparkmate's embrace. It rippled and sang joyfully as it weaved itself back into the deepest recesses of Megatron’s own spark, uncaring of the purple stains of dark energon that still and would forever remain, filling the pits with its unending adoration for everything around it, no matter how tainted or scarred.

:Mm….: Optimus sighed blissfully, engine purring as Megatron’s end gently caressed his spark. :How long have you been up?:

:Long enough.: Was Megatron’s simple answer. :Why? Missing me already?:

The farmiliar nip of mischief and flirtatiousness floated through the bond, ringed with something softer, something deeper than the words implied. And even as Optimus resisted the urge to roll his eyes in amused irritation, he was beaming, letting the feeling of Megatron's long-deserved happiness creep far into his spark and root itself there. Optimus would tolerate the teasing, if it meant the old warmonger was starting to find some semblance of his former self underneath the layers of hate and anger he had built up over the centuries.

Oh, how he had missed his other half, torn from him by the unrelenting talons of war.

:Optimus?: His bondmate’s questioning tone pulled him from his thoughts. :I lost you for a moment there.:

:I’m here, my love.: Optimus smiled. :And as long as I function, I swear, we will never be apart again.:

Chapter Text

Dull gray feathers rustled as the wind blew through them, the vast expanse of wing they clung to shifting to the side as Megatron glided between two partially collapsed buildings. The archangel beat his powerful wings, soaring higher into the darkened skies of his once-homeworld, now as torn and battered as his Grace.

Hooves pounded the ground beneath him, and Optimus rode in front of him, gorgeous, untainted white-gold wings tucked close to his body to avoid scraping the sides of his horse. Why he was always so reluctant to use them, Megatron would never know, but now was not the time to dwell on the loss of something he knew he could never get back. He had allowed the devil himself to possess him, after all. Whatever chance he had of regaining his place at Primus’s side had vanished the moment he let Unicron’s spirit taint his soul.

But he was rid of that menace now, and they were on a mission. He and his beloved brother, who had become his worst enemy the moment he broke free of the AllSpark, when he defied Primus’s will. Orion had always been their father’s perfect little….well, angel. Megatronus had been a fool to believe that he would break the chains of AllSpark alongside him, to right what was wrong with the High Council, to prove how blind their father had been.

Orion had betrayed him. When they confronted the Council, the day they planned to leave the AllSpark, Megatronus had stood tall, wholly prepared for whatever Primus was going to do to them in his rage. But Orion stepped forward, proclaiming that he did not believe the chain of command should be broken with violence, as his brother had suggested. He stood there, in front of the angels they had plotted to kill, and undid everything Megatronus had worked for. He had clawed his way into their father’s favor, fought his way to the top, and Orion snatched it out from beneath him with one proclamation of peace.

Now, Optimus Prime rode beside him, the leader of their race. Now, the mighty Megatronus of Tarn, firstborn of their creator Primus, was nothing but a fallen angel, a High Protector who had failed to protect. Now, their world was a broken wasteland, torn apart by a war that he had started out of spite and jealousy for his brother. Now, they had come together, united against a common enemy, as they had done so many centuries before.

Optimus did not hate him, even as he rode through the sad remains of their home. He had never hated his brother, no matter how spiteful he sounded, or how hard he hit. The old archangel understood why the Council had chosen Orion, all those years ago. Love was not an emotion Megatron felt easily, but if there was one being in the six realms who deserved it, it was his brother.

Megatron of Tarn, firstborn son of Primus, fallen angel and broken warlord, had never made the same mistake twice.

Losing his brother would not be the exception.

Chapter Text

Optimus Prime was a strong mech. He was stubborn, and bold, and loyal, and brave, and emotionless.

At least, that's what they said he needed to be.

Love is a dangerous creature, twelve hissing voices spread through his chassis and into his helm, wiping it clean of all other thoughts. Love is fickle, love is bad, you should never love. Only care. Be compassionate, care for everything around you, but you must never love.

Then one, deep and familiar, rose above the rest. Love is compassion in a more powerful form. It is not wrong to love, Optimus, never forget that.

Megatron is the enemy!! The other twelve snarled, though some were considerably less heated than the others. Loving the enemy will only lead to more loss when you are incapable of destroying him!

Another voice spoke up, this one silky and feminine. Hating Megatron will only bring you down with him, Optimus. We know you care deeply about him, but sometimes it is necessary to accept the truth, no matter how harrowing.

Murmurs of agreement made his audials vibrate softly before his predecessor's essence retreated back into their relic. Optimus turned their words over in his head as he laid down, trying not to dwell on what could have been.

Megatronus leaned closer, grinning lips brushing his antennae. Orion shuddered gleefully, smiling brightly as he leaned into the gladiator's broad shoulder.

"I love you, Megatronus."

Optimus stared up at those crimson optics, the battle-fueled fires he was so used to reduced to barely sparking embers. The fire would never leave Megatron, not even when he was calmly stroking the top of Optimus's helm with a clawed servo as the Prime pressed closer to his side.

Megatron had made it clear there would be no further negotiations between the Autobots and Decepticons. That the only way to end the war would be his way--murder. The slaughtering and the battling and the devastation and oh, the killing--Optimus didn't know how much more he could take. Endless memories of smiling faces of his fellow Autobots as they stood at attention in front of him, fields buzzing with adrenaline, ready to carry out whatever orders they were given.

It made Optimus sick, the way they looked at him. Like he was some sort of saint. It was a jolting, nauseating reminder of how wrong those bots had been when they never returned. Because of an order hegave them. Because of their blind, unending faith in him. Because of their belief that all his orders were good orders, that they would always bring them home.

No matter how much they all liked to blame the Decepticons, those deaths were on Optimus. It was a weight that was almost too much to bear, and it kept getting heavier the longer the war dragged on.

Optimus Prime was made to be perfect.

Tears gathered in his optics anyway.