Work Text:
Devastator slowly made its way across the desert, looking around for any humans. Miraculously, there were none.
Good. Nothing could stop it from helping Lord Megatron now.
It continues to move along despite the mental and physical strain of having several Constructicons forced into one mech. It would be fine. It just had to do its purpose, and then it could uncombine.
Devastator felt heavy. Of course it was heavy, it was made up of several construction vehicles. Logic said so.
It falls to the ground, unable to bear the weight of its own body (and mind) anymore. It had to uncombine. IT HAD TO.
It needed the sweet release of death. This was torture. No reward was worth such a draconian method of combining. What was wrong with it and its components? Why did it- they agree to this?
Devastator offlines its optics. Then, feeling the sand beneath it disappear, it opens them again, shooting up as quickly as its body would allow it to. Where-?
A white, featureless void. Devastator felt... still terrible, but now without Earth's unpleasant environment to ruin its already fragile components.
It sees another mech in the distance. Squinting, Devastator realizes that it has the same vehicles in it as... as them. Was that another Devastator? It was impossible.
The other, taller, bipedal Devastator realizes its presence. It slowly lumbers over, cautious of it. A fair assumption, given that Devastator was also cautious of this doppelganger.
This other Devastator looked beautiful, now that it was close enough to inspect. Uniformly combined components, barely any physical strain apart from hunching over...
Devastator feels jealousy-why-notfair-howdareit-impossible-MEGATRONLIEDTOUS shoot through its mind. No. No thoughts of dissent, no matter how horrible their treatment was.
It continues to stare at the bipedal Devastator, waiting for it to do something.
...It offers a servo over to it. Pity? Or something more malicious? Decepticons could never be trusted, after all... and the other Constructicons were likely as vicious as them...
Cautiously, Devastator leans its head into the servo, flinching slightly when it moves over its head. It was being caressed. Cared for.
These alternate Constructicons cared for Devastator more than their Fallen-forsaken comrades.
And with that thought, Devastator finally falls apart into its components as it falls into the sweet, blissful depths of recharge.