Chapter Text
Megatron knew that none of the Decepticons would understand.
Except Him.
Soundwave was standing outside the lab that Megatron was inside of, where he had made possibly the worst decision ever.
Three sparklings, the loudest of which was squirming and scheming to get out of the protective hold his servos had over him and his two brothers.
A war frame, leader of the Decepticons, becoming a surrogate sire. He put waves of ~calm/safety/no danger~ over his EM field, which got the trio to relax in his arms and softy recharge.
The Decepticons wouldn’t be happy. Megatron himself was already doubting his ability to go through with this, especially with the Autobots constantly pestering his cause, the duties as the war leader, and his unresolved feelings about sparklings themselves…
No mech would understand this ache.
But Soundwave would understand. He was the ever loyal one, amongst all he has ever known in all his kilocycles. Soundwave was there during the beginning, he would be there until the end. He would understand the moment of weakness; seeing the dying sparkling and his abandoned family. Soundwave had his cassettes, who would always be his priority, second only to Megatron himself, on the occasion both were in need of assistance. He would have to understand, or at least, accept.
Stepping out of the lab, his loud pedes were echoing through the halls and the sparklings continued to peacefully recharge after a bit of Energon and the first even mildly caring servos in cycles to touch their frames.
They will have to be raised in a war, but with no carrier or sire seeming to be around but the Decepticons will have to adjust…Megatron pondered. The first sparklings in kilocycles, and like Cybertron they are ravaged by this war.
———
Megatron stepped out holding the three little sparklings, each peacefully recharging in the tank’s strong grasp. The rumbling storm was coming soon, but the clear parts of the sky had gleaming stars, illuminating the cassette player softly.
“Megatron: Gained stowaways.”
“They were abandoned. I couldn’t just leave them to them.” He curtly barked out, his voice harsh with anxiety yet stubbornness.
The blue mech looks almost surprised, but the visor was unreadable to Megatron’s already overwhelmed processor.“Soundwave: understands. Will notify brig for support.”
Megatron calmly exvented, relieved at Soundwave’s cool reception.
When has Soundwave ever faultered in his obedience? Have I ever appreciated this loyalty properly? Or have been too focused on him? The one who wasn’t? When I had the one who always would be all along?
Megatron’s spark relaxed, musing to his closest partner, “I thought we should give them designations to introduce them to the rest of the command. As my beloved amica, would you care to help me?”
The intelligence officer perked up from his gaze at the sparklings, looking the former gladiator in the optics carefully. “Soundwave: honored.” He began to scan the trio of little protoforms, and let out a little exvent. “No given designations.”
Megatron shifted his optics towards his surroundings, searching for inspiration. From what he had read about seekers, they had a special bond when in trios. Vos was very secretive, but they had a very distinct culture. At least, the remains of Vos and their writings.
Soundwave pointed a digit at the red-winged sparkling, perched between the calm blue seeker and his restless purple and black brother. The little red one had snuggled his brothers, then sharply twitched his wings to push them away.
“Designate: PrettyPoision.”
Soundwave seemed to laugh at his own suggestion as Megatron exaggerated rolling his optics.
How long had it been, since we could peacefully laugh together? Had we ever gotten to do that? Perhaps these sparklings will change us all, for the better. Megatron’s processor bittersweetly reflected.
The little red seeker stirred at the laughter, and immediately was chirping and reaching for the sky. Soundwave quickly moved his servos to secure the scurrying seeker. When the little one was firmly held against Soundwave’s chassis, he immediately began wailing and screaming, tiny digits clawing for the stars.
As Megatron snickered at the little one’s futile attempt at escape, Soundwave softly whispered to both Megatron and the little rebel, “Designate: Starscream.”
As Megatron took hold of his amica, the line between them being conjunx and amica was thin, he whispered back, “That’s the perfect designation for this little sparkling. It will be so.”
———
The two held each other and the little sparklings, who all had gotten up, began chirping and speaking in binary. The little purple seeker has become very keen on getting as high as he possibly could, much to Megatron’s dismay as he was climbing on his helm. Starscream was being held in Soundwave’s sub-space, since he bit the little blue sparkling.
“Ship: Approaching. Soundwave: enjoying company.”
Megatron turned to his dearest softly, knowing that this was the most vulnerable either of them had been in vorns.
“Soundwave, I beli-“ Megatron was cut off by the deafening sharp cry of the blue seeker, who had fallen because of the purple one’s antics to try and climb Megatron.
The Decepticon leader tried grab the mischievous little one, but he teleported into the sky with a sneeze.
Megatron immediately rose, semi-panicked that the seeker would hurt himself in the fall. He held out his servos while Soundwave and Starscream looked up anxiously and the distressed blue one continued to wail. The storm had begun, with loud thunder confusing the airborne seeker, and egging on the blue one’s noise.
The purple protoform warped straight into Megatron’s servos with a loud pop, and the tension of them all was swiftly cut.
“We’ll call you Skywarp, since you have this unique ability,” Megatron purred affectionately to the chirping purple seeker, “and you shall be Thundercracker, since you can crack my audials with your thunderous cry!” he called out at the timid blue seeker.
———
Megatron was acting more like a mischievous cyberfox than he ever had, but his excitement was a nice change for Soundwave.
Soundwave was used to his usual coldness: Megatron wasn’t angry at him, but the rage of the world needed to be bared with others on occasion. He was used to this dance: Megatron yells, he listens. Shockwave is frustrated: he listens.
The Autobots are plotting: he listens.
But now with these little sparklings, Megatron was almost acting like how he was in the beginning. When they were truly happy, hopeful even, for the future together.
They both listened to the sweet humming of the seekers recharge on the ship in the Med bay.