like the end of all things

[kernsing]

Fandom: Transformers: Prime.

Rating: Teen. Category: Other.

Relationships: Megatron & Soundwave, ambiguous Megatron/Soundwave.

Characters: Megatron, Soundwave, Laserbeak.

Warnings: Threat of violence, discussion of war/violence, ideological disagreements, Decepticon ideology.

Summary:

A long time ago, approaching the date of the formal Autobot/Decepticon schism:

Ratchet is still spitting venom. "If you keep going like this, you will alienate everyone who ever cared about you. One day even Soundwave—"

"You're wrong. You're wrong about most things, but especially this," says Megatron, his EM field scornful and amused, as if Ratchet had just denied the vastness of space. "Soundwave and I, we will never leave each other."

Soundwave leaves.

Notes: The casettes as Soundwave’s children, Cybertronians as not having an analogous concept to human romance, QPR undertones, open-ish(?) ending, unresolved emotional tension, Soundwave talks a lot and in standard English, the blockquote in the summary does not show up in the actual fic.

Read on AO3

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Soundwave hunches forward and curls around his chest, around Laserbeak, his last remaining symbiote. He should be resting, but all he can do is think.

Soundwave thinks of the bomb found strapped to Laserbeak's body eleven local rotations ago. He sees again the image that has haunted him since: Laserbeak broken and dead, another casualty of war like her siblings. The fear and anger have passed, leaving in their wake something sad and tired and numb.

Everyone he loves, lost to pointless war. Once, there were reasons to fight. But here, now, at the edge of the galaxy on a wet planet full of dirt and dust, civilization fallen, home world dead, the Autobots fighting to defend nothing, the Decepticons fighting to destroy nothing, Soundwave cannot see them. All he can see is death perpetuated without cause on strange alien worlds full of strange alien peoples.

Perpetuated by who? The answer is easy enough. The Autobots plead for peace even when it's not deserved.

The Decepticons, corrupt in their fight against corruption, the Prime’s indictment at the war’s beginning. Pax had meant his words to be a declaration of fact; instead, they are merely prophetic. Soundwave almost finds it funny that he would one day again agree with the archivist from Iacon. But it’s not funny, because it's too circular, too poetic, too much like the end of all things.

He can't do this anymore. Can't fight this war, can't keep his vow from so long ago, can't follow the person he has given everything to, not in this direction so far away from the Decepticons' original purpose.

He's shaking.

Laserbeak, having fallen into recharge some time ago, shuffles in her place. He tries to soothe her with a touch, but she is already awake. She queries him his thoughts; he answers truthfully.

He asks her opinion on the matter of the war. She has always been the closest to Megatron out of all her siblings, and she is quiet for a long moment. Soundwave shutters his optics.

Finally, a single glyph through their radio commline: together/in agreement.

She has always been the closest to Megatron, and yet everything has a breaking point. Soundwave suspects hers was passed many orns ago, when Rumble had died, and she has simply refrained to voice it until Soundwave admitted his own.

He exits his room. The Nemesis is on its resting shift, and few populate the halls, still bright and full of the sound of whirring machinery. Nobody pays him any heed, even as he walks in circles, going around the whole ship two, three times.

He finally stops in front of a door. Laserbeak extracts herself from his chest without command and slinks off into the shadows of the ceiling. He is grateful for her understanding; this is a private matter.

Soundwave announces his visit with a personal commline ping. Nanokliks tick by, two, three, six, twelve. He is afraid, but he stays his course. He must do this if he is truly leaving.

The door slides open to Megatron gazing down at his uninvited visitor, an unreadable look on his faceplates. Soundwave stands up straight even as uncertainty flares through his field, which he has drawn tightly against his body. Megatron says nothing and turns to walk back into his room, an invitation to come in, and Soundwave follows.

As always, Megatron lets Soundwave stay close to his side. Soundwave can hear the rhythm of corrupted Energon alongside the pulse of Megatron's spark, can feel his EM field refracting unlife. Even so, Soundwave longs to remain near him, to bask in that poisoned field forever.

Megatron's room is sparse, and its dimensions are identical to Soundwave's own. The lighting is dim, a stark contrast to the still bright halls. Megatron leans against a wall and waits for Soundwave to explain his presence in the middle of a resting shift.

Silence. Soundwave can't speak, not with his own words or another's.

It's too much. He shouldn't have come. He should've at least waited until the waking shift.

But he knows he would have never come then. He would have stuffed all his doubts down deep beneath the surface of his spark and done a disservice to himself and Laserbeak, to Megatron and the Decepticons all.

As a klik passes and Soundwave still has said nothing, Megatron takes two steps to reach him and put a hand on his shoulder. It's meant to be reassuring, but Soundwave can't help but clamp down his inner plates. Megatron notices the minute out-of-character gesture, and eyes him for a moment before saying, "Soundwave. Tell me, what is the reason for this visit?"

Soundwave stares at the floor, willing himself to say something, but nothing comes. Megatron's servo moves from Soundwave’s shoulder to the side of his face and turns it towards Megatron, who is searching Soundwave's blank mask for Primus knows what. Over their commline, Megatron says, « Tell me, » as well as the glyph regard for you.

« Or would you rather not talk? » he asks, and he curls his EM field around Soundwave in an offer, radiating care, acceptance, and other things the Decepticons of today have stopped talking about; and it is too much for Soundwave, his own field seeping out from beneath his plating to entangle with Megatron's. He hears Megatron's quiet click of surprise at the swirls of fear and anxiety, the sick dread, the intense sorrow.

Megatron silently rests his helm against Soundwave's. For a small moment, all Soundwave wants is to lean into that comfort for the rest of the night and forget everything else. But then he remembers why he is here, and something ice-cold rolls through him. Soundwave steps away from Megatron's touch and clicks his vocalizer on. "I came here to talk," he says in his own voice that is reserved for Megatron alone, according to the vow that he has already broken in his spark.

Megatron's field wavers for a nanoklik in confusion before he nods for Soundwave to continue. A glyph: listening, and another: regard for you, again. Soundwave's will falters, and he considers excusing himself and pretending tonight never happened, considers falling to his knees and begging for forgiveness for his lack of faith.

Instead, he says with voice and glyphs, "I'm worried about the direction the war is going." Megatron tilts his head in inquiry. There is bemusement in his field; this sort of talk is usually reserved by Starscream—this sort of talk being doubt in anything of Megatron's, his strategies, his ideals, his war. Soundwave never doubted. A long, long time ago, before the deaths of his children, before this wandering among the stars, before Dark Energon and heightened proclivities toward violence. He has doubted for orns.

He looks away from Megatron. "I'm worried about the direction the war is going," says Soundwave again, as if replaying his own words. "We set out to root out Cybertron's corruption, and since our beginnings, we have dismantled both the Council and the Guilds. What else are we fighting for?"

Megatron has withdrawn his field, and Soundwave has to consciously keep himself from reaching out with his own. Soundwave hears Megatron shift his stance before he says, "We must also war against those who align themselves with corruption. You know this. The Autobots have never understood justice. That is why we must fight them until they do, or until they are destroyed."

Soundwave is still looking everywhere except Megatron. "The Autobots were wrong to stand against us; that is not in question. But they have never been fundamentally evil—they have explicitly disavowed the Council and casteism and state violence—"

"—With us or against us, Soundwave." Megatron's voice is almost imperceptibly louder. "They refused to take the necessary measures, they nonetheless supported casteism and state violence through their condemnation of us—"

"—And that was wrong of them, but they weren't able to stop us, and now the Council is dead, the Guilds are dead, and Cybertron is dead—"

"—You understand," says Megatron, very evenly, "that Cybertron is dead because of the Autobots. If Prime and his followers had not stood against us, our war would never had consumed the whole planet. For that alone, we should fight them to the ends of the universe."

"But we don't have to. Do not misunderstand me. I still hate the Autobots. I am not sure what could ever convince me to live alongside them or listen to their Prime preach his misguided morality. Peace only means that we do not fight them. The Autobots would accept these terms; this stalemate tires and frustrates them as it does myself—I am not sure I can continue—"

Soundwave stops when Megatron again reaches out with a servo to turn Soundwave's face towards him, less gently than last time. Megatron asks with a voice as quiet as the background hum of the lights outside, yet clearer than the skies over Uraya, "Is this treason?"

"No," says Soundwave immediately. Then, a nanoklik later, the unthinkable, "Yes." Megatron's grip tightens until it is almost painful. Soundwave grits his dentae and plows on with his explanation because he needs Megatron to understand what has happened to them and them all. "No. I am always a Decepticon. I will always defend the war's beginning. Cybertron's standing government was evil. It deserved its destruction; death unto death. I maintain that everything I have said in this conversation is faithful to Decepticon ideals.

"Yes. I cannot continue to fight an eternal stalemate against those who align themselves with evil people but are simply wrong and not evil themselves. The Autobots are not Senators enslaving or silencing others for wealth and power; they are only idle hypocrites. A victory over them is not worth it. It's not worth the cost of war, not like the destruction of the Council was.

"If this is the course you keep, I—"—he stumbles on these words, the very opposite of those he swore so long ago—"—I am leaving. I will not stay at your side."

Megatron lets go of him and steps back as if hit, as if he'd still been expecting something less than a broken promise until those very words. Megatron's field flares in shock, anger, and an overwhelming sense of betrayal before disappearing from Soundwave's senses again. The emptiness is palpable, painful. Soundwave watches as Megatron silently curls and uncurls a fist, and he holds himself tense and ready, even though he's not sure what he would do if Megatron were to decide to strike him with intent to hurt.

Megatron stays quiet and visibly on the edge of violence for a long klik. Finally, he hits the wall he had been leaning against, leaving an indentation in the metal and a clanging echo in the room. He does not look at Soundwave as he asks, "Where is Laserbeak?"

"Outside." A pause. "She agrees with me."

Megatron's servos become tight fists again. "I never expected this treachery from the two of you. But so be it. You know you dishonor the deaths of Ravage and the twins with your faithlessness."

Soundwave sees again that image of Laserbeak broken, sees Ravage and Frenzy and Rumble dead dead dead, and the conglomeration of doubt and shame and sadness turns into something more like anger and searing righteousness, and he says, "I am more faithful to you than you yourself are."

Megatron whirls to face him. Soundwave does not stop.

"You made me," says Soundwave, something strange he can't quite identify in his own voice. "You, a long time ago, you made me, with your words and your actions, you who prized defense of the downtrodden and life. I cannot help but be forever devoted to that you of so long ago. It is written in my code. Don't you know this?"

Megatron simply looks at him for a long time. At last, he turns away and straightens his posture. Holding his servos behind his back and setting his pedes a shoulder length apart, he says, "Aren't you leaving? Get off this ship."

Is that all? Soundwave doesn't say. You haven't even hit me yet, he doesn't say. I still love you, he doesn't say, tries not to even think. Instead, as if he is yet ever loyal, he follows Megatron's command. He exits the room and gestures to Laserbeak. He can tell she wants to talk to Megatron, but common sense wins out in the end, and they silently disembark the Nemesis and fly into the fog of the alien morning.

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Notes: megatron: tfw ur best friend wakes u up in the middle of the night and says “it’s over” while u squint at their face and try to tell if ur hallucinating or not

ngl my soundwave is definitely part of Decepticon Drama™ Command along with megs and starscream, no matter how much he wants to deny it

This was originally published to AO3 on March 15, 2019, where the fic notes are slightly more organized, and I laugh about accidentally posting this on the Ides of March. Et tu, Soundwave?

Things that led to the writing of this piece: (1) I wanted to see if I could finagle one of the Decepticons into favoring a ceasefire without eschewing Decepticon ideology, and (2) there needs to be more Soundwave &/ Megatron content in this fandom.

Another one of the main sources of inspiration for this fic is this comment (specifically, "Soundwave probably should leave [Megatron] but he won't," which led me to think, "but what if he did") by carinatae on their story The Right To Change, which is a wonderful take on the post-war era in the Aligned continuity and one you should go read. (Clarification, if anyone needs it: The Right To Change is set post-war, but this fic is not.)

Soundwave talks in standard English in this fic because per headcanons his canon cadence is actually in the style of his native language's grammar, which he only uses in that language and those he is unfamiliar with (e.g. English). He's not speaking one of those here. I think. My language headcanons are still very wavy. Standard English is just easier to write.

On a related note, "dentae" are not teeth. They are only used to manipulate sounds for phonetic purposes.

Title and phrase, which I believe comes from a LOTR quote, probably stuck to me because of this Silmarillion fic, which I am planning to read once I first actually read Tolkien. I just. Mostly read fanfic nowadays. Sigh.

Some notes on time units that may be useful—
nanoklik: a Cybertronian "second"; about 1.425 seconds; defined as 1/144 of a klik
klik: a Cybertronian "minute"; about 3.42 minutes; defined as 1/24 of a joor/"hour" or 1/864 of a rotation/"day"
orn: about 83 years; defined as 12 solar cycles/"years"
(Cybertronians use a base 12 counting system, fight me.)

More headcanon notes for clarification: Soundwave here isn't exactly representing Autobot philosophy with nuance, due to both bias and ignorance. Most notably, there are quite a few Autobots who aren't keen on the idea of real, guaranteed peace with the Decepticons; they exclude most of Team Prime and are a minority for sure, but not a negligible one. They are very close ideological cousins with the standard Decepticon party line, which Megatron invokes in this fic: "the Enemy's understanding of justice is the reason antebellum Cybertron was resistant to positive social change and why it eventually fell to the war that destroyed the planet; it is bad and evil, and as a moral imperative we cannot let it exist in any form; peace is repugnant."

I tried, but I know I didn’t give Laserbeak the attention she deserves. She is Her Own Adult Self, and I’d like my fic to reflect that. Laserbeak, I love you, please take this mention in the author’s note as recompense for your very short appearances above.