All I Want - Megatron X Reader

To Find Somebody ~ 22

   "Well well well, Optimus! What a wonderful surprise," Megatron chuckled mischievously as he emerged. Several soldiers, as well as his current second-in-command, Dreadwing, were lined up at his sides, calm and collected.

   "Megatron," The former archivist growled in an even lower tone. You gulped. Nervously biting your lip, your optics nervously flitted from the face of one Con to the next. You didn't bother with the ex-gladiator until he was the last one in line you hadn't fearfully glanced at.

   He caught your wandering optics. He stared into your shrunken, aqua pupils. The silver mech's voice hitched in his throat. His body froze. His optics widened. After seeing your innocent figure sit next to him, holding countless conversations about countless topics (from your lives at home pre-war to the creatures of Earth to the art of writing poetry) for months, now he was seeing you across what would become the battlefield, shaking in fright. He already regret his decision to come here.

"Megs, there are more ways to feel alive than by ending lives." Your words from his previous encounter with you echoed in his processor. Megatron gulped, finding himself growing worried and unsure. He honestly felt queasy, his tank stirring up a war like the one in his helm. No words left his mouth. Megatron found himself saved from silence as Dreadwing took a turn to taunt the Autobots before him.

"Hand over the data cylinder, Autobot," the SIC hissed the term as if it hurt him, "and we may be merciful enough to allow you to walk out alive." He reached a servo back and brought forward his Gatling gun.

You shook your helm, backing away by a couple steps, slightly raising your sword at them. As if that would scare any of them away. Fear was the only thing distracting you from the fact that Megatron was doing nothing at all to stop this. You'd feel betrayed in due time.

   "Like we'd ever do that," Arcee hissed. Her optics narrowed.

   Your gaze flicked over to your old friend. The blue and red mech put a finger to his comm while keeping his optics on Megatron.

   "Ratchet, we need a ground-bridge, immediately." You heard Optimus whisper into the communications link. His arm went back to his side, preparing to swiftly change into a blaster for the inevitable battle between factions.

   Several seconds of deafening silence passed.

   Dreadwing noticed his master's . . . reluctance? Hesitation? No, it couldn't be. He took a menacing step forwards, which was probably what prompted one of your own to shoot.

   Bang!

   And what seemed like hundreds more followed.

   Honestly, you don't even know who started it. You didn't really care at the moment either. All you knew was, when the shot rang out, you were ordered by both the Prime and your instincts to run. Run away very far in the opposite direction.

   You transformed and speedily drove away, becoming keenly aware that some of the vehicons were now tailing you. You'd need to shake them off or something before you could call Ratchet. You bet he was already notified of the situation.

   You came to a halt and transformed, spinning around to face your opponents. One servo clutched the relic tightly against your chassis while the other transformed back into a servo blade. The two jets and cars changed into Decepticon soldiers that surrounded you.

   "Ha! I can already tell this'll be too easy," one of the grounders cackled. They were probably grinning under the masks, thinking the same thing. You'd show 'em wrong. They activated there weapons and charged at you.

   Any shrieks or screams you wanted to let loose only turned into grunts as you blocked their attacks. Block. Stab. Avoid getting shot. Punch. You even hit one or two over the helm with the cylinder a couple times. Luckily, the item refused to be dented.

   Block. Elbow. Stab again. You tore out the inner wiring of one by some miracle. One down, three to go. That would be one flier down, one left with two grounders. You huffed. Couldn't they just die faster?

   Couldn't Optimus ignore the Cons and drive over to help you, or someone at the very least? Everyone on the team knew you were by far, the worst at fighting! Couldn't Megatron just call them all off? Both leaders were most likely blinded by their multi-million year rivalry. That was the best reason you could give.

   You hoped your occasional training with your teammates paid off in that moment.

   You fell to the ground. Quickly pushing yourself upwards and kicking at someone's leg, catching them off balance. You stabbed their leg. The grounder fell to the floor, face-planting. Your sword plunged into his spark. Bruises and dents formed on your armor as the remaining soldiers continued their attacks.

   Punch. Stab. Block. Kick. Dodge. Feint left, attack right. You found yourself doing surprisingly well until—bam! You slammed painfully into the ground and the data cylinder flew from your grasp, landing far out of your reach. One of the vehicons has lifted a bolder and thrown it at you, hitting your backstruts and knocking you off of your pedes.

   From there, you grunted as you tried to get up. You failed and your faceplates hit the hard, rocky ground again.

"Look! We got her! Not as weak as she looks, I guess." Oh that just hurt. "Hey, why don't we play with her more, before we bring that thing to Megatron?" You could hear the remaining two walk over to where you lay helplessly.

They lifted the boulder up and dropped it back down, repeating the action multiple. A smaller rock, one the size of of both your fists combined, was smashed multiple times against your helm and face. They even stuffed a rock as big as your intake could stretch and stuffed it in so your distress was muted. They sliced and shot at parts of your frame.

"Mmmmm! Mph mmm mfuumm!" Nothing but incoherent noises came from your intake.

"What is the meaning of this?!" A voice boomed. The sound of a jet engine and the transforming sequence came with it. Your vision darkened. A large frame landed on the ground with a loud thud and you could hear the mech that brought you mixed feelings come closer. His pedesteps seemed distressed.

Two shots rang out. The world was nearly black.

"Y/N, Y/N talk to me," he begged. You moaned. He took the rock from your mouth and tossed it aside.

". . . Megs . . ." You croaked. He turned you onto your back and gently lifted your body onto his thighs.

"It's alright, dear doctor, I will end this. I should have seen this coming, I-" Your vision turned to pitch blackness and his voice faded away, echoing in your audio receptors. Megatron groaned and carefully lifted you up bridal style, cautiously standing up. "Soundwave," he barked into his comm, "I require a ground-bridge."

Team Prime arrived just in time to find him walking through the portal with you in his arms.

"No!" Optimus cried. He wanted to aim his blaster at his rival, but his fear of harming you was too great. Your teammates felt the same as they ran for you, but came to a sudden halt as it closed.

At this point, the mostly forgotten data cylinder nearby was the least of their worries.