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It had been a very long time.
Soundwave knew that because he had been counting, keeping an exact record in his head of the passing seconds, minutes, hours, days, years , like only a data analyst of his calibre could. He knew down to the second how long it had been since those human children had used the reaction between two groundbridges within a metre’s proximity against him, and had trapped him and Laserbeak in this muted and shadowy place between dimensions, able to see the universe but unable to interact with it.
He’d seen - and still, his spark seemed to shrink as he remembered it - Megatron’s fall from the Nemesis, and without hesitation he’d dived after him, his long fingers reaching out for his Lord’s form as the light slowly faded from his optics, but unable to do so much as brush his plating. He’d followed Megatron down; down through the Earth’s atmosphere as he gained momentum and the heat of atmospheric reentry licked across his plating, down as he broke the surface of the ocean and left a trail of boiling water behind him, down until he settled there on the ocean floor, his optics empty and lifeless, and Soundwave had just lain down next to him because he couldn’t think of anything else to do.
By Megatron’s side… yes, that was where he belonged. He’d always belonged there, ever since that day back in the pits so many millions of years ago, when a bot who was then called Megatronus stood over a defeated foe and offered not the end of a blade but his hand to help him to his feet. He’d said Soundwave, these mechs do not deserve to see you bleed , and the certainty with which he’d spoken had captured Soundwave’s interest immediately. He’d felt, deep in his spark, that this was a mech worth listening to - and later, a mech worth following.
He had been worth following, Soundwave had thought, even as the flow of energon from the mortal wound grew sluggish and congealed and eventually cut off entirely, and the empty frame grew colder and colder. He would always have been worth following. He had to move him, he had to - he would rust down here. Lord Megatron deserved a far more dignified rest than this; he deserved parades and pyres and a thousand galaxies crying out his name, but Soundwave could no longer give those things to him, couldn’t even touch him to move him - he was nothing but a ghost.
Soundwave, you need to get up, Laserbeak had said to him. She’d sounded concerned, and he conceded she had probably been right to be, but still, he couldn’t bring himself to abandon his beloved leader to this cold and unfit grave.
Soundwave: needs time, he’d told her.
He only needed a little bit of time, he’d told himself. He only needed time to process what had happened, to realign his motivator from the path it had followed for nearly 5 million years. Even for an analytical processor such as his it was a difficult undertaking, not in the least because he wanted nothing more than to not have to. Laserbeak had pinged him every so often to get a move on, getting increasingly worried every time, but even Laserbeak was glad he’d stayed down there the day that Megatron’s empty frame opened its eyes and shot straight for the surface of the ocean. She’d sent Soundwave the digital equivalent of a slap round the face and Soundwave hurriedly folded himself into Alt, wincing a little at the rough edges of his long unused transformation sequence, and went after Lord Megatron. He’d followed at a distance all the way up through the atmosphere, transmitting to Megatron’s comm frequency in the hopes of getting something other than just the ‘undelivered message’ notification bouncing back at him. Megatron had just been passing Earth’s lone moon when Soundwave received an urgent alert from his systems - he would not have enough energon to follow Megatron’s projected course back to Cybertron.
No known mech left alive had the energon capacity to fly the distance from Earth to Cybertron unaided, but seeing as Megatron was dead it appeared that energon capacity was no longer a barrier to him. Soundwave has felt a rising panic as he watched Megatron get further and further away, knowing he couldn’t follow. He’d almost wanted to try anyway, and hang the consequences, but then Laserbeak sent him a soothing data pulse and he remembered his responsibilities. With one last longing look after Megatron’s afterburners, he turned and headed back to Earth, new worries about energon conservation now awakening in his mind.
We’ll be okay, Soundwave, Laserbeak had sent to him. We’ll keep each other safe. Soundwave hoped she was right.
As ghosts, they could go anywhere on the planet. Soundwave had briefly followed Ratchet, who was suffering such clear and obvious grief that Soundwave immediately knew that Optimus Prime was dead. He’d hoped Ratchet might start work on a new groundbridge, watching his every move obsessively, but there was no luck to be had. Ratchet seemed content to hide away on earth to rust. Laserbeak had encouraged him to fly, sometimes, just to be sure his T-Cog wouldn’t atrophy, and she would disconnect from her dock on his chest and fly next to him, her little spark fluttering with joy. Afterwards, he would land and refuel her with a line from his own frame, endlessly, hopelessly grateful that she was still with him and he didn’t have to be here alone.
They’d even found Skyquake’s dead frame in the desert, its systems running slow and sluggish as its mindless rage burnt up all the dark energon animating it. Briefly, Soundwave had considered keeping himself and his symbiote alive with this last trace of dark energon, the only fuel they would be able to find in the shadowzone, but Laserbeak quailed at the idea. They would not risk their minds.
But there had come a time, all too soon, that Soundwave could no longer refuel her completely after one of their pleasure flights. She’d looked up at him, more scared for him than she was for herself, and told him not to worry. It would all be okay. She’d folded herself back into her dock and hooked into his systems without complaint, and gently, he had sent the command to shut her down into a deep stasis.
He patted her, now, running fingers along the still surface of her wings and down the length of her back. They seemed so small and delicate without her vivacious spirit animating them. He missed her so much, feeling her absence as a hole in his spark, but he missed them all like that; one adjusted to the gaps. The difference was she was still here with him, only a short command away- a command that he couldn’t send. He barely had enough energon left to keep himself online as was, and his lightweight communications frame was fuel-efficient in the extreme. Megatron had promised him the best if he was to give up the power of his heavier gladiator’s frame, and Megatron had given him the finest reframe available on the planet, but even Soundwave didn’t have enough energon left than to power much more than his essential systems. A little symbiote frame was not so economical.
He’d decided to wait for… whatever came next in a server room in the basement of a human building. He’d picked it for its depth and solitude, enjoying the visible cold as it crystallised in the air and played across the banks of humming machinery like little wisps of smoke. He liked being surrounded by fast-moving data - it made him feel at home. Laserbeak would definitely have told him to wait under the sky and stop being a recluse but, well, it was up to him where he chose to rest now. He stroked over her wings again. He would dream about the sky, for her.
He watched little lights flash merrily across from him on one of the servers, wanting to hook in with his cables and rifle through the data in there. He was sure he knew what those lights signified; it was right there, lurking in the back of his processor, but such extraneous information as what humans liked to do with their data storage was beyond his reach now his energon levels had dropped low enough to shut down non-essential systems. As he watched the lights blink and his processor idly tried to find a pattern to it, his visual input began to fade away, almost without him even noticing.
Soundwave dreamt about the sky; about a clear day a very long time ago, when he’d still flown above Cybertron. He’d been new to his lightweight flight frame, Megatron had been new to his heavy jet fighter alt, and they’d flown together to try and help each other to adjust, sending each other pings of laughter every time the other wobbled embarrassingly in the air. Soundwave had known Megatron would have rather died than have any of their fliers (especially that Starscream) see this, and he’d felt a warm glow at this responsibility, at this trust Megatron placed in him by letting him see him vulnerable. It had felt like Megatron had given him a precious gift.
Circling above Kaon, finally mostly stable, Soundwave had let Laserbeak detach from her mount on his chest and fly with them (Buzzsaw had thought he had better stay closer to the ground and “supervise” the twins). She’d immediately flown circles around the pair of them, twittering with mirth and sending Megatron all her critiques of his performance in bursts of excited activity. Megatron had merely chuckled and said that he wished more of his aerial recruits had her enthusiasm. Soundwave had been overwhelmed with such a sudden rush of love - and yes, it had been love, and not loyalty, perhaps for the first time - for the both of them that he’d faltered in the air, and Laserbeak had immediately embarked on making fun of him too.
The world had been, both literally and figuratively, at their feet, ripe for the taking. Soundwave remembered how strong and right he’d felt by Megatron’s side, his spark whole and entirely devoted to his Lord. He’d dwell on this feeling, he decided, until he could no longer dwell on anything at all.
A proximity sensor nudged gently at his processor, knocking him out of standby and into sudden awareness. His visual input feed was still offline. He thought he’d turned them all off a long time ago, when they’d kept alerting him to the presence of things in the real world that could no longer touch him, but this one was very insistent on getting his attention. He accessed it, and found his subconscious alert systems had last given him this notification just before the human children had trapped him in this half-life. It was the sensor he had devoted to scanning for groundbridge frequencies, full-time, in the hopes of detecting some sign of where the Autobot base was hidden. It meant that someone had opened a groundbridge very close to him. How bizarre.
His by-now sluggish processor played with that thought for a moment.
He hurriedly onlined his visual input feed.
Across from where he lay, there was a groundbridge, just as his sensors had told him, just as he’d been praying for. Awful that he, Soundwave, had been reduced to praying and to helplessness. But no longer.
With an effort, he staggered to his feet, which after so long disused seemed uninclined to support him. The struts of his legs shook with the effort, but he stepped forward. His frame seemed twice as heavy as it had when he’d lain down. The bridge, glowing white-blue and almost hurting his visual receptors with its brightness and hope, seemed incredibly far away to him, with low fuel alerts appearing on his visor every few seconds and a kind of weakness he’d never felt before permeating his frame, but he didn’t have any other choice than to keep putting one foot in front of the other, his optics fixed on it.
He ached down to his very spark, and he thought he must be running on fumes by now, but he carried on. Shaking step by shaking step, he drew closer and closer to safety, even as the alert system that had got him to his feet in the first place gave up, and the myriad of fuel alerts on his visor disappeared one by one.
His vision finally flickered out, but he was there, he was there. He felt the characteristic tingle on his plating of the groundbridge translating his particles across spacetime, and then he was stepping out onto solid ground and arms were greeting him, supporting him, real solid arms , and Soundwave was so overwhelmed with relief and gratitude that he collapsed into them with barely a thought. He didn’t have enough fuel left for a thought. He had just enough time to sense a familiar field against his, filled with relief of its own, before his frame finally shut down.
“ Megatron?” he said with one of his earliest voice clips - the arena announcer - as the darkness rose up to claim him.
He was barely aware for a long time, half convinced he’d imagined Megatron’s field against his and quite surprised to even come online again at all. He drifted in and out of consciousness as his frame was refuelled slowly and carefully so as not to shock his starvation mode protocols. He kept a protective hand over Laserbeak all the while, even when he fell back into stasis. Much as he longed to see her awake again, even a loving carrier couldn’t override his frame’s imperative to see itself recovered before turning to any dependents. He would have to be patient.
Megatron was with him when he awoke, more often than not. With his frame as weak as it was, he couldn’t do much more than nudge his field against Megatron’s in disbelief, checking he was really there. Megatron nudged him back every time, tangling the edges of their fields together with a warm glow of fondness and a patience that Soundwave had rarely seen him display. Megatron was not a mechanism designed for long bedside vigils, yet Soundwave could sense none of that rising irritation in him that was all too common if he had to sit still for any stretch of time. No, he could only feel the reassurance and that golden fondness, and he treasured it.
Soon, he was holding onto consciousness for longer and longer spells, beginning to feel strength returning to his limbs and his sensors all coming back online and telling him that they were very, very unhappy.
“I apologise for taking so long,” Megatron said softly one day, and Soundwave froze. Still in recuperation as he was, this didn’t make much of a difference to his demeanour. “For a very long time, I didn’t even know you had survived.”
Megatron was stroking one of his knuckles along the edge of the flat plane of Soundwave’s arm, quite slowly, almost as if he wasn’t consciously doing it. Soundwave wasn’t sure if Megatron knew he was awake or not. He tried to broadcast forgiveness through his field anyway - Soundwave hadn’t expected any kind of rescue at all, and yet here Megatron was. He hoped Megatron understood, and he thought he might have, because Megatron then laid his whole palm down on Soundwave’s arm.
“My most loyal…” he mused, and Soundwave felt a frisson of pleasure before his still recovering systems took him offline once more.
His visual input systems took longest to recover - right behind his motor systems - because of course they did, as if they couldn’t quite believe he wasn’t still lain in that server room. He wanted to see Megatron, to touch him and reassure himself of his Lord’s presence, but his frame had seen fit to deny him until now.
As his optics onlined, the first thing to come into focus was Megatron’s face, smiling down at him. The shape of him was different than the last time Soundwave had seen him, and Soundwave made an inquisitive noise, questing fingers reaching out to try and touch the new protrusions on his helm. Megatron consented to his examination, bowing his head so Soundwave could see and feel them.
“Courtesy of Unicron,” Megatron said ruefully. This did not explain as much as he seemed to think it did, and Soundwave repeated the question.
“He… borrowed me.” Megatron was not meeting Soundwave’s optics. “He found my empty frame on the ocean floor and he took it for his own.”
“ Soundwave - - was watching, ” Soundwave told him with a couple of clips of Knockout. Megatron looked at him, startled, then chuckled.
“You fell from the Nemesis with me?” Soundwave nodded. “Of course you did, of course. How could I have doubted that you would be with me? Still-” he grew solemn “-I wish I had known.”
“ Always with - - you ,” Soundwave answered. Surely, Megatron knew that? Had Soundwave ever given him reason to doubt?
Yet Megatron’s field filled with another wave of warm and fond caring, and the massive silver mech - closer to bronze now, what had Unicron done - smiled at him again with a mouthful of sharp teeth that could, and often had, set lesser mechs quaking. Soundwave had only ever felt privileged to see him smile like this; to see a side to him other than war.
“You honour me, as always, with your loyalty, Soundwave,” Megatron intoned, bowing his head. Soundwave sent a burst of alarm - the honour was Soundwave’s! - but Megatron held up a hand to halt his protest.
“No, I am honoured,” Megatron stressed. “To have known you and to have fought beside you, and, as I understand it, to have died beside you. I don’t believe there are many mechanisms that could say that . No Lord has ever been served by one such as you.”
“ Megatron ,” Soundwave said again with Deadlock’s voice. “ Megatron.” Static crackled around the roar of the crowd. He reached out for him.
“ Soundwave .” Megatron met him halfway. They pressed their helms together and let their EM fields tangle in each other as Megatron’s arms came up to hold him and Soundwave laid his hands on every part of Megatron he could reach; his hands, his back, his new shoulder pauldrons, the unfamiliar shape of his helm, just to feel that he was real.
“ Unicron? ” Soundwave asked as casually he could while he inspected Megatron’s new shoulders, parroting Megatron’s voice back at him. Megatron was now even broader than before, and Soundwave was fascinated by Unicron’s eldritch engineering, curious as to the purpose of these changes. He was unsurprised when he felt Megatron stiffen against him, and waited, letting his field project calm. Megatron was silent for a long, tense moment before he spoke.
“I was trapped,” he said quietly, his optics offline. He let his helm rest over Soundwave’s spark and almost on autopilot Soundwave’s hand came down to stroke soothingly at him. “Trapped within my own frame, unable to do anything but watch.” He shuddered a little. “I’ve never known anything like it.”
Soundwave wrapped his other arm more tightly around Megatron’s back, trying to project safety and solidity as much as he could.
“If it were not for Prime,” Megatron admitted, “I would still be there, watching Unicron lay waste to Cybertron without being able to do a single thing about it. Despite everything between us, he saved me. My frame is my own once more.”
Soundwave made a questioning noise.
“Prime is dead,” Megatron answered, without triumph. “He fell in order to reignite the Well.” Megatron looked up to see rapid-fire calculations flashing across Soundwave’s visor, and then, a vista from old Kaon followed by a satellite view of Cybertron whole and hale as it had been during the Golden Age.
“Indeed, Soundwave. Cybertron lives once more.” Megatron didn’t sound very happy about it. He drew back from Soundwave to sit on the side of the recovery berth, looking down at his hands and flexing his claws to watch the light play over them. Finally, he clenched his fist.
“My frame has not felt quite so much like my own for a very long time,” he said quietly. Soundwave sat up too, and drew closer to listen. “I feel renewed, like I just climbed out of the mines.” He gave a rueful chuckle. “Or perhaps I was always destined to become the tyrant? Perhaps I am truly born anew?”
Soundwave reached out for Megatron’s hand. Megatron let him take it and draw it in closer to him, lacing their fingers together.
“What was it all for, Soundwave?” he demanded suddenly. “What did we lay waste to our planet for? What did we hunt each other across galaxies for?”
It took Soundwave a second to search his data-banks for the appropriate reply.
“ For the future of Cybertron itself! ” Megatron himself roared from the distant past, the recording faded and crackling with age.
Megatron chuckled without mirth. “And what a future I gave it! Curse my pride, Soundwave.” Megatron leaned into him - only slightly, for he was very large - and Soundwave wrapped him in his field, feeling uncertainty and regret, completely foreign to sense from Megatron.
“Curse my pride,” Megatron continued, “for where did it lead me? Our people exiled, Cybertron dark, my frame the puppet of a being far more powerful than I. Oh, you flatter me, Soundwave-” for he had heard and felt Soundwave’s spark-deep denial of the very concept “-but Unicron is a God, and he made me smaller than I have been since I was a miner with no name other than that of the seam I worked.”
Soundwave clutched Megatron’s hand tighter. He had never seen him like this, not in all the millions of years he had known him. Not even when he was new in the pits, wearing a name much, much bigger than him, had he not been driven by that internal fire that had made so many mechs flock to his cause. His conviction, his absolute certainty that his way was the right had kept him fuelled for over four million years of fighting, and now it was gone.
“ Always with - - you, ” Soundwave repeated, turning his visor up to Megatron and showing him clips, flashes of their history together from Soundwave’s vantage point at Megatron’s side for all his greatest triumphs. As they took the senate, Megatron turned away. Soundwave grabbed his chin and forcibly turned his head back to him to watch.
“What is the point of this?” Megatron asked softly. One hand came up to cradle Soundwave’s helm, a thumb stroking back and forth.
“ Remember, ” Soundwave said, and Megatron scowled as he recognised Starscream’s voice.
“I didn’t deserve-”
“ REMEMBER, ” Soundwave stressed, a lot louder this time, and Megatron abruptly went quiet.
He began a new clip while he was sure Megatron was focused on him, showing him what he looked like, larger than life at the forefront of Soundwave’s memory banks, a common thread weaving through his whole life. Megatron almost seemed to glow faintly, perfectly preserved as if he’d been recorded yesterday, even as the rest of the memory faded at the edges. Megatron of the past roared in triumph as he finally broke past the guard tower at the gate of the mine, and Soundwave saw the Megatron of the present’s optics brighten, recognising the mission.
“ Liberation of Sector D-16; a mistake? ” Soundwave asked.
“No,” Megatron began, “but-”
“ Soundwave, these mechs do not deserve to see you bleed, ” the Megatron on Soundwave’s visor said, and the Megatron in front of him audibly gasped, his grip tightening on Soundwave.
“ Mistake? ” Soundwave challenged.
“Oh, Soundwave, you know it wasn’t,” Megatron sighed, resting their helms together again, but his field was now full of indecision rather than regret, and Soundwave counted the day as won. He’d be able to reignite Megatron’s fire soon enough.
“ Megatron,” Soundwave sighed, unlatching his data cables and winding them around Megatron’s back, urging him closer. Megatron pulled him into his lap and they sat with their plating pressed as closely together as they could manage without combining, enjoying the synchronised hum of their engines and the sensation of their two sparks, separated for so long, pulsing softly next to each other once more.
As the alerts on Soundwave’s HUD disappeared he grew steadily more excited about the eventual reawakening of Laserbeak. He was up to asking Megatron about it at least twice a day before Megatron finally agreed. Megatron had always showed an astonishing amount of caution and restraint when in charge of repairs, especially when it would inconvenience Soundwave the most, and was absolutely determined Soundwave should be in peak condition before they put the stress of a symbiote back on his spark. Soundwave was unimpressed, especially as when Megatron was in the repair berth it was difficult to get him to wait there long enough for the welds to cool.
But finally, it was time to reboot her, and Soundwave’s spark whirled with excitement and longing. His little dear spark - she’d survived! They’d survived! Megatron had saved them all over again. She’d be ecstatic to see him; she’d always had a soft spot for Megatron, enjoying perching on his shoulder as he commanded and being pet by him at rest. He could barely wait to feel her EM field against his again.
They brought her fuel levels up slowly, letting her systems initialise one by one. Megatron kept scanning her, over and over, clearly fretting, so Soundwave sent out a data cable and wrapped it around his wrist, tugging it down to rest at his side. It was sweet to see Megatron so worried over his symbiote, but she didn’t need to be scanned ten times a minute. They both needed to be patient, even though Soundwave’s own spark was thrumming in excitement too.
He felt her EM field first, fuzzy and confused, and he caressed it with his own and rejoiced as she nudged him back sleepily in response. Megatron raised the scanner again and Soundwave let him.
“She’s initialising correctly,” Megatron said, hushed. “She’ll be awake soon… oh …”
Laserbeak had just raised her head and scanned the room blearily, and Megatron was shocked into delighted silence to see her.
Soundwave couldn’t - he couldn’t - there was nothing in his databanks to describe how he felt in that moment. He hadn’t realised just how afraid he was that this wasn’t going to work, that something had gone wrong during those years of stasis, that he’d failed her, until he saw and felt the evidence to the contrary right in front of him. The relief it brought him was incredible; he felt a tonne lighter as he brought a hand up to pet her wings lightly and she responded , beeping happily and pushing back against him.
Megatron leant over him on the berth to run the back of a knuckle down her spinal strut and she shivered happily in response, her smaller EM field sparking against his playfully before she froze in startled recognition, sending off a barrage of pings that made Megatron chuckle.
“Yes,” Megatron said softly. “Yes, Laserbeak, it’s me.”
She squealed, and Soundwave reluctantly disengaged his chest clamps and let her zoom straight over to Megatron to investigate him, flapping around his helm and reacquainting herself with him by casting aspersions on his character, his new armour, and his affection for her, seeing as he’d had the temerity to die on her.
“I apologise, Laserbeak,” Megatron said solemnly. “I shall endeavor not to die again.”
Laserbeak was mollified by his humility, and after one last scandalised flutter of her plating she settled right back onto her usual perch on Megatron’s shoulder.
Soundwave’s spark felt so full looking at the two of them together that he could barely stand it. Megatron tried to scowl a little as Laserbeak pecked at his helm but he couldn’t even summon up mock irritation, smiling fondly at her antics. Soundwave levered himself up in the berth, though not without a bit of difficulty - it would still be some time until he was fully recovered from such an extended period of starvation he’d been through in the shadowzone. Laserbeak, protected from the effects by stasis, was already back to her boisterous self as if no time had passed at all. Megatron came to sit down next to him and Soundwave leaned against him, letting their fields mingle. Laserbeak pecked at Soundwave’s helm too, worried he might feel left out otherwise.
“I thought I might never have this again,” Megatron murmured, as if speaking his fear aloud might undo their reunion. “I was never so technically minded as you. I feared I’d never be able to finish a groundbridge of my own, let alone calculate your coordinates.”
Megatron had done this alone? Soundwave… should have guessed, for where was Knockout to supervise his recovery, where was Starscream, come to gloat? He was so used to Megatron surrounded by those ready to do his bidding - which Soundwave considered no less than his due - that he found it difficult to imagine him working by himself, pouring over the technical charts and calculations he’d always professed to hate. He was overcome with a rush of love for him as he pictured the little frown that always appeared on Megatron’s face when confronted with extradimensional mathematics, imagining how difficult it must have been for him to watch the time tick away as he worked with no idea what he might find when he finally reached the shadowzone.
“Soundwave,” Megatron said softly, taking Soundwave by the chin and turning his visor up to look at him. He smiled gently. “It was easy. You have been my most loyal follower for over 4 millenia, and you deserve far more than even I could give you in return. It was nothing.”
Laserbeak chirped in protest and Soundwave echoed her. To those who had been trapped as they had, it was everything. He showed Megatron an image, one of many, of Laserbeak slowing down mid-flight and hooking back up to him for more energon.
“ Not- - nothing, ” Soundwave stressed. Laserbeak nudged at Megatron affectionately. Would’ve died without him, Laserbeak sent to both of them, and Megatron’s face fell as he processed the truth of that. It was true. Soundwave’s processor was still reeling, adjusting to the sudden denial of a fact he’d accepted years ago - that he was going to die in there without anyone knowing a thing about it. What Megatron had done was beyond gratitude, beyond words. Soundwave probably should have expected it, nonetheless. Megatron had made doing the impossible into an art form.
“Not nothing, then,” Megatron acknowledged, pulling Soundwave a little closer. “But still, when I found out there was something to come back to , it was my duty to try. It wasn’t entirely altruistic.” He chuckled. “I think you may underestimate how vital the pair of you are to my happiness.”
Well, naturally, Laserbeak sent him.
Soundwave found he was not above jealousy of his own symbiote as she flitted merrily around the room investigating at the same time as he took his first shaking steps on Megatron’s arm. He’d forgotten how long his systems took to come out of starvation mode and was beginning to feel a little frustrated, but Megatron was the very picture of patience, walking that little bit further with him every day, sitting with the two of them and reminiscing, as well as leaving them alone so they could reconnect. Laserbeak was already longing to map out the rest of the base they were staying at, and told them both so in no uncertain terms, but Soundwave found himself strangely reluctant to let her out of his sight.
“Soundwave,” Megatron coaxed, “she needs to explore. She’s a scout.” Laserbeak peered at him hopefully from her perch on Megatron’s shoulder. Soundwave’s spark whirled in distress, feeling almost like if she were out of his sight that would somehow undo the fact of her survival. He knew he was being irrational even as he shook his head.
“Soundwave, you’re going to stifle her,” Megatron said sternly. “She’ll stay with me the whole time, won’t she? ” This last, directed at Laserbeak, who shuffled uncomfortably under the scrutiny.
It felt wrong to let her go, but Megatron was right - he needed to anyway. After a moment’s hesitation, he reluctantly nodded. Laserbeak’s chirps of excitement told him he’d made the right choice.
That became part of their routine; Megatron would come, lead Soundwave around the room in steps that were getting stronger every day, and afterwards take Laserbeak out for an hour of exploring. Laserbeak told him about a sturdy but deserted base, with a lot of empty and echoing rooms. She surmised that it hadn’t seen use in at least a million years of their war (that was now, he supposed, over), but Megatron kept a small cluster of rooms centered around the medbay, where Soundwave was recovering, in good, liveable condition. She’d already discovered several secure nooks and crannies for easy surveillance, and she was excited to spend more time in them.
It was likely she was sequestered in one of those little spots when Soundwave decided he might like to explore too, driven mostly by a burning curiosity as to what exactly Megatron - being both notoriously impatient and easily bored - was doing with his time when he was elsewhere if the base was as deserted as Laserbeak had reported it was. He shuffled his way towards the door of the medbay, keeping one hand on the wall for support (it wouldn’t do to get overconfident), lamenting Megatron’s ridiculous double standards for recuperation time for other mechs compared to himself. If Megatron had been recovering from a period of extended starvation then he would have had to have been chained to the berth. From the door, Soundwave’s enhanced audials could easily pick up an faint occasional clash of metal on metal, and could slowly and surely follow it to its source.
He found his missing symbiote perched on a rafter high up on the ceiling of a spacious mess hall, recording Megatron as he ran through a combat readiness drill that appeared to include periodic attacks on one of the dining tables.
I think he misses trying to kill the Prime, Laserbeak told him. Yes, Soundwave thought he might, at that.
Soundwave stood in the doorway for a while, enjoying the sight of Megatron contentedly absorbed in doing what he did best. Watching him was a pleasure that had never faded; his backplates shifting as he moved through the shapes, a tantalising glimpse of struts and cables working underneath as he stretched himself to his limits and prepared to strike, a potent reminder of all the power he had to bring to bear as this particular strike cleaved the entire table in two. The halves crashed to the floor as Megatron straightened up, his massive chest heaving with deep invents and his plating shining with a sheen of coolant. He retracted his blade and turned to Soundwave, disapproving.
“You’re supposed to be resting,” he accused. Soundwave tilted his head to one side and stared him down until Megatron shifted awkwardly, looking away and relenting.
“It’s good to see you up and about.” He came forward to take Soundwave by the arm, and Soundwave sagged against him gratefully. Megatron looked down at him, amused, and Soundwave silently dared him to say something. Wisely, he decided not to comment.
“Let me show you around,” Megatron said. Soundwave flashed up an image of the table halves and a question mark.
“Ah, yes.” Megatron… blushed? “I’ll take care of those later. I’m unaware why Unicron considered it necessary, but I’ve had quite the craving for industrial metals recently.”
Soundwave patted him on the arm. Nobody could say exactly what Unicron had remade Megatron for, but at least they wouldn’t need quite so much energon this way. Megatron smiled, and led him away to show him the rest of the base, moving slowly and gingerly. Laserbeak swooped down to perch on the wreckage of the table and watch them go.
When Laserbeak had said a small cluster of rooms surrounding the medbay were all Megatron kept, she had meant it. He maintained five berth-rooms, the medbay, the energon storage and that great hall Soundwave had found him using for drills. The rest of the base appeared to be in ruins, with several corridors ending in open space.
“It was left in ruins after the Corcapsia Incursion,” Megatron explained. “I ran into it after I left Cybertron and decided it was as good a place as any to make my home, despite the state it was in. I have never been one for material wealth.”
Material wealth, no, but this place was rich in other kinds of things. Soundwave stopped in his tracks as they passed a gaping hole in the outer wall of the base that left it open to outer space. He let go of Megatron’s arm and stepped closer, past piles of rubble that had stayed there after all these years, to get a better look.
Soundwave now realised why he hadn’t recognised where they were; this outpost was no longer orbiting the same sun as when it had been established. The asteroid was drifting, between systems, surrounded by space dust and tiny meteorites, with the bold splash of stars that comprised the arm of the galaxy emblazoned vertically across the sky in front of them. The very air seemed to twinkle; it was magnificent to behold.
“ Beautiful,” Soundwave said as Megatron came to join him.
“Decidedly so,” Megatron murmured. He was not looking at the stars. Soundwave reached out for his hand and they watched the vastness of space spin on without giving them the slightest bit of notice. It made Soundwave feel small, but in a way that was calming, rather than stifling. Stars felt nothing for the affairs of mortal mechanisms. He had always looked upon them with a sense of awe - here is something mighty, here is a force of nature. In some ways it was rather like how he thought of Megatron, but in other ways it just didn’t compare. After all, the stars could not hold his hand.
“ Where now? ” Soundwave asked after a while.
“I was hoping you could tell me,” Megatron sighed. “I find I’ve rather lost my taste for conquest, after everything. I fear Cybertron does not want me back.”
Soundwave would fix that fear soon enough; he wasn’t worried. But in the meantime…
“Looking out into the universe, though,” Megatron continued, gesturing to the vast expanse of space in front of them, “I feel I may have been missing the point. We could travel this single galaxy for a thousand years and there still would be more stars to see. Ha!” He broke off to bark a single laugh. “Maybe I’m getting old, Soundwave.”
In response to that , Soundwave showed him a single image of Alpha Trion, and made him smile again.
“Would you do that, Soundwave?” Megatron asked, suddenly solemn. “Would you make your home here with me? Would you travel with me?” In response, Soundwave drew him closer. He took him by both hands and unwound a data cable to draw Megatron’s head down so he could press it against his. Looking deep into Megatron’s optics, he replied.
“ Always,” he said fervently. Megatron’s optics widened in shock as he recognised the clip - Soundwave’s own voice as he swore fealty, all the way back in the pit. Soundwave rarely used audio of himself, but he felt the occasion warranted it. It felt right, to swear the same oath all over again.
“Oh, Soundwave,” said Megatron, taking Soundwave’s cue and echoing the same sentiment he’d expressed all those years ago. “You honour me.”