Chapter Text
Feelings as soft as "love" have no place in a war.
Appreciation, perhaps. That can be turned to loyalty, twisted into devotion that can be useful. But love is, in Megatron's personal experience, a gaping wound. Softness that would be best shoved beneath reinforced plating and never again permitted to see the light of day.
But it's a soft thing, that's the problem. It doesn't stay confined as well as slips through the cracks, bleeding into reason, poisoning logic. Leading with the spark like the damn thing knows better than he does himself.
There's no place for it. Not now, not with their victory forever so damn close, when they just need one slip up, when one slip themselves could mean losing everything, as the leader of the Decepticon cause he cannot AFFORD to-
..... well. Fall.
Fall helm over heels, embarrassingly, sickeningly so. It makes Megatron feel stupid, like the energon in his lines is too thick, or too hot for his frame- fuzzies the processor, inhibits reason, and all over some-!!!
If he pinches the bridge of his nose any harder, he truly fears he may dent the metal for good. And maybe he should- it's something else to focus his thoughts on besides- well. A ridiculous little Autobot scout.
A scout in love with this wretched planet. A scout on the opposite side of this war, working with his sworn enemies, all to protect the humans and their miserable organic home.
It hadn't even been intentional, to stumble upon him that day. to see him amongst the planet's organic, squishy creatures, but he had. He'd looked so happy petting the deer, and it had only taken him catching himself on a branch for them to flee and for the scout to leap to his feet and retreat.
He hadn't bothered to learn the names of Prime's scouts. He knew of them only when they slighted him in battle. They were going to be destroyed anyways, so what did it matter if he knew them or not?
But this was different.
Their file on Hound was near to nothing. They had his designation and the day he was enlisted, and barely anything else.
It was not enough.
He had half a mind to set Sound wave on the task- his eyes and ears rarely failed him, but something about the idea just felt.... wrong?
Which is ridiculous. He's their leader, if he says that information is pertinent to their mission, then it is and he should be able to ask for it.
Except.... That isn't what he wanted that information for. Personal matters, as vexing as they are, should be handled personally. Which is all well and noble, but posed the new and improved problem of how exactly he would go about getting that information.
He could always order Hound to be captured, but even Megatron is aware that's a little bit far. Kidnap a mech, in the middle of a war, and instead of demanding any sort of information about Autobot operations or weaknesses to exploit, just- what? Ask him what his favourite colour is? If he comes here often? If he's free Friday at 7?
Not a chance.
But that.... doesn't leave him with many options left. Aside from one, which was somehow the single most harrowing one he'd thought of yet.
Returning to the place he'd first encountered this.... issue, and wait. Settling himself amidst the organic ridiculousness that made up earths "nature", and seeing if he could catch another glimpse of his strange fascination. It's a foolish plan, one more suited for a lovesick bot back in boot camp daydreaming about secret meetings behind the training camps than anything a recognised warlord should be concerning himself with.
But that hadn't stopped him finding an excuse to make his way out here. It hadn't even stopped him leaving the base under the care of his subordinates, as much as he felt he'd regret it later.
Because much to his horror, Megatron had to face the facts: if this meant he got to see Hound again, the ridiculousness and the risks felt.... oddly worth it.
Without any of his subordinates around, the clearing was...quiet. If he focused hard enough on that silence, he could hear the tiny feathered organics making high-pitched noises to one another. If he focused harder, he could hear the scurrying of a bushy-tailed organic as it traversed the branches above.
It was certainly calmer than the Nemesis and was likely calmer than the Ark as well. The forest, dense enough to hide even a bot of his size, made the war outside almost vanish.
It made him all the more startled when he noticed that there were pale blue optics glowing faintly through the foliage, and that the camouflaged bot they belonged to was one he almost hoped he wouldn't stumble across again so soon.
It takes everything in his frame not to jump visibly, because shifting had been what disturbed the scene last time. Not so much as a stick cracks under his weight this time as for a long moment Megatron just... stares.
He should do something else. Anything else. Move speak raise a blaster drop a line ANYTHING-
But instead he keeps sharp red locked on sky blue like he's trying to stay as still as Hounds beloved deer do.
Hound, for what it's worth, doesn't seem to know what to do here either. His servo stills on the nearest tree, wondering if he's actually seeing the bot in front of him. Surely not, that- out here? What sort of sense does that make?
Enough, honestly. He'd run into Megatron here before. Promptly run away from him, too. But this is... strange. A game of who'll move first- break the silence, break the illusion between them that maybe they're seeing things-
No weapons are raised. No blasters charge, just... for a second they can only hear a bird calling high above them.
"....What exactly is that creature?"
Megatron's own voice sounds wrong in his head. It barely echoes, let alone commands like usual. Just a quiet question- a simple show of interest in something he's fairly sure Hound likes. That's a good place to start, right?