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In the whole universe, Megatron can count the things he trusts on 3/5th of one servo. Soundwave, ever loyal, pain, and his ability to survive it. And nothing else.
Of all the things in the universe he doesn't trust, there are a few he distrusts the most: Starscream, ever disloyal, battles that go just a little too well, and seemingly innocuous periods of unmarred happiness.
"It must be so exhausting," Optimus says when he tells him this. "Being so afraid all the time. It must be exhausting." But what does Optimus know, he won't be here when it ends.
Except it doesn't end. The treaty holds. The planet spins. And Optimus Prime holds his hand.
Megatron doesn't consider himself a coward, not anymore. But that doesn't translate to bravery as simply as he would hope. He writes it out, in the hopes his processor can convince his spark visually. He speaks it, when that doesn't work. 'End it now, before it ends you.' It's not advice he's ever struggled with before.
But he doesn't end it. He doesn't break the treaty. He doesn't stop the planet from spinning. He doesn't drop Optimus Prime's hand.
They vacation on Atlantis-4. Megatron has never vacationed before. Soundwave enjoys himself, lost in the planet's labyrinth of legitimate and illegitimate casinos. Cybertron's accumulated wealth triples overnight. Megatron doesn't leave the room. Neither does Optimus Prime.
Megatron convinces himself the trip does more good than harm. Provides him with leverage, he thinks, when it all comes crumbling down. He'll lock the memories up like Soundwave is locking their future finances down- twin ammunition for the Decepticon cause. When it all comes crumbling down.
Megatron does not initiate the crumbling himself. It will happen on its own. The end is taking its sweet time. He assumes it's the universe playing tricks on him.
But Optimus Prime doesn't end it. Optimus Prime doesn't tear up the treaty in a fit of rage when Megatron gets bitter. Optimus Prime doesn't stop the world from spinning, even when the Decepticons win too much in negotiations. Optimus Prime doesn't drop his hand, even when he squeezes too tight.
Instead they catch a hopper back to Cybertron and Optimus falls asleep on Megatron's shoulder. He sleeps the whole way home. Megatron doesn't, and neither does Soundwave. Hoppers are notoriously untrustworthy spacecraft.
The hopper gets them back to Cybertron in one piece. Megatron would call it a minor miracle, if Cybertron were a safe place to be.
"It's safe inside your apartment," Optimus replies. "Soundwave's security system is unbeatable, and I won't let you be assassinated in your sleep, if I'm sleeping next to you." What a ridiculous thing to say. Optimus is just as likely to kill Megatron in his sleep than any other assassin.
Optimus doesn't drop his hand, even though he probably should. It was an unkind thing for Megatron to say, true as it may be. But Optimus doesn't seem particularly hurt by it. He shrugs, instead, and says "Maybe we should discuss fail-safes. I know something that could provide us with the safety of mutually assured destruction. And pleasure."
They don't talk about that again, but Megatron thinks about it often.
A sparkbond could end it. A sparkbond could destroy the peace treaty. A sparkbond could stop the planet from spinning. A sparkbond could break them so harshly they couldn't even lift a servo. He thinks about it often.
Soundwave tells him that there is no sense in anticipating the end of things. When it comes, there is a good chance you won't be functioning to feel the pain. Why mourn early? Megatron trusts Soundwave, but he's not sure he trusts that. He's too good at surviving.
The treaty negotiation process takes decades. Cybertron blooms to life over the long years. The planet just keeps spinning. Megatron trades an old holo for a growing crystal on a whim and brings it home. Optimus smiles from where he's reading in the living room.
"I've always wanted a crystal garden," he says. Megatron hands him the crystal.
"It takes thousands of years for them to grow, and they crumble to the ground at the first earthquake," Megatron warns. They are on the plains, the ground is unsteady.
"That's alright," Optimus replies. "We have time."
Megatron builds him a crystal garden. It takes two years for Megatron to call it complete, and the next day an acid storm hits. Optimus laughs, loud enough to cover Megatron's hissing.
"And so it goes," he says. "Soundwave, help me get a tarp over them, won't you." And Megatron spends the next short while hunched in the shade of the porch, watching Optimus and Soundwave stumble around in their rain-coverings, fastening tarps over his crystals. He would help, but none of the cloaks are his size. So it goes.
The crystals are there the next morning and the morning after, and the morning after. So is the peace treaty. So is the ground, earthquakes and all. So is Optimus's hand.
It barely makes his list now, but when he was younger ice had been one of his greatest fears. Water pooled in the subterranean energon caves where he had once labored in. They were deep, at times, and froze over in the harsh and numbing cold of tunnels where sunlight would never reach. Mechs had died in those pools, sunk to the bottom, never to be heard from again. Megatron had never been one to fear his own pedefalls, but he didn't trust them. He knows he's never tread lightly.
Soundwave and Optimus, on the other hand, step quietly. The former as a spy, the latter as someone kind. Megatron tries not to step on their pedes. He fails, most of the time.
"If your Autobots had more common sense, they probably wouldn't have marched onto old Decepticon ground and gotten their legs blown off," says Megatron rather bluntly.
"Don't be unnecessarily crude," replies Optimus. "Wheeljack is using the opportunity to 'enhance' his legs anyway, whatever that means. And can we please not talk shop over dinner."
"We finished dinner," says Megatron. "And now we are dancing."
"We are swaying, because you won't move your pedes." Optimus's field isn't nearly as irritated as his voice. "Will you move, or shall we spend the next hour in a static embrace?"
Megatron slides his pedes around half-heartedly. "I'm not a good dancer."
"I don't particularly care," says Optimus.
Megatron never does get good at dancing, but they practice enough that he ought to be. It's his steps- he stomps too much to be graceful. But the ice doesn't crack.
"This is the happiest I've ever been," he tells Soundwave. Soundwave nods.
"The aftermath of a successful revolution," he suggests.
Megatron parses this, then admits, "It can't possibly last. Stable regimes rarely do."
"I'll be here, when it ends," promises Soundwave, and Megatron trusts him.
The negotiations end and they find themselves without jobs. This is easily solved for Soundwave, who already happens to be the first call for all cybersecurity related disasters. There is no simple fix for Megatron, who doesn't mind making his own entertainment, nor for Optimus, who seems to lack the ability.
"What are you doing?" Optimus asks, peering over Megatron's shoulder. Megatron grunts and shifts to throw the shovelful of dirt over his non-Optimus-occupied shoulder.
"Digging."
"Why?"
Megatron swivels the shovel to wiggle under a large chunk of solid aluminum iron alloy. "I've always enjoyed an oil bath," he says.
Optimus brightens. "Wonderful! Is there some way I can help?"
Megatron sends him to the store. There are some fine craftsmen on New Cybertron, and he'd rather not attempt to create the tile paneling himself. He's never been good at delicate work.
Optimus returns with the materials for a dark blue and white side pattern. Megatron stuccos them in the next day. They have a functioning oil bath a week later.
"This is the happiest i have ever been," Megatron says, once they've settled into the bubbling oil.
"Mhm," agrees Optimus.
Megatron considers the time when he'll have to leave the oil and stumble upstairs, cold and wet and tired. Megatron considers the end. "I'm going to throw myself into the sun," he says. It's an epiphany.
"Please don't do that."
Megatron sighs. "Oh, I don't mean it. The sun would spit me back out anyway, it always does.
Optimus opens one optic and squints at him. "What does that mean?" He asks.
"I don't know. I don't know."
Optimus doesn't have anything to say to that, apparently, because they spend the rest of the bath's bubble-cycle in silence.
It's nice while it lasts, Megatron thinks. Maybe it will hurt more, the longer he lets it go on. But it's nice while it lasts. So he doesn't end it. The treaty is finalized and implemented in full force. Cybertron spins. Optimus's hand finds his under the oil.
"Do you trust me?" Optimus asks a month later.
"Of course not," Megatron answers. This does not seem to phase Optimus.
"Would you give me your spark," he asks.
"Of course," Megatron replies.
It makes things so much simpler- if it ends, he'll die. No sun involved.
"Megatron should consider the possibility that it does not end," Soundwave suggests over dinner.
Megatron considers it. "I wouldn't mind that," he says. "Forever. If the peace holds and Cybertron keeps spinning. I wouldn't mind that." Optimus's hand closes over his under the table.
It's nice, for however long it lasts.