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Getting a T-cog was supposed to be cool. It was supposed to solve all of D-16’s—scrap no, Megatron’s problems—But so far all it’s done was change his entire frame, make him a good two sizes bigger than he was three days ago, make Orion, err Optimus banish him from Iacon, and make his fuel tank hurt. Megatron winced and wrapped an arm around his abdomen. His tank really did hurt.
He leaned back against a rock and sat in the dirt, holding his knees up to his chassis. This was officially uncool. The high guard and Megatron had been traveling for days now with minimal breaks. Starscream said he “knew a place” far from Iacon where they could set up their base, and since Megatron had absolutely no idea what he was doing or where to go he begrudgingly let starscream take the lead.
He’d snuck away from tthe group to brood in his feelings and finally get some quiet—somehow the high guard was way rowdier than any of the miners from home Iacon. Another cramp made him wince. Maybe he needed to void his waste tank? He remembered how prowl used to get tank aches from skipping washrack breaks, maybe that would help.
He pushed himself into a crouch, resting his elbows on his knees. It felt kind of undignified voiding out in the open but he guessed he’d done it in worse places. He shifted his legs apart while inputting the command to open his panels.
Megatron attempted, in vain, to relax and not think about how horrible everything was. He glanced down, maybe to find a rock to study while he waited, but his faceplate pained when he saw what looked like dark discolored energon dripping out of him into the sand. He hadn’t realized he screamed until he slapped a servo over his intake and scrambled back, bumping the large rock he had just been resting against.
He was bleeding! Out of his valve! And the energon looked weird and there were little chunks of mesh or protoform or something squishy swimming around in the small pool of energon. What was wrong?! Was he dying? Were his systems rejecting the T-cog?!??!?
Megatron yelped when he heard Soundwave’s deep monotone behind him. When did Soundwave get here?
“Lord Megatron: screamed. Inquiry: Lord Megatron alright?”
Megatron’s optics darted from soundwave back to the energon pooling out of him. Soundwave. Energon. Soundwave. Energon.
“I-” Megatron’s voice cracked. He sniffed, not realizing that he had started crying, “I’m… dying.”
Soundwave cocked his helm, glancing at Megatron, then to his lord’s splayed legs and the rich energon steadily leaking from his valve (Soundwave was going to talk with him about modesty later. Young bots these days…). Was he trying to make a joke?
“Lord Megatron: not funny. Expelling cycle: not quantifiable to offlining.”
Megatron blinked.
He was dying and soundwave was calling it a joke! Frustrated and fear boiled in his chest.
“Expelling? What even—“
Megatron’s was cut off by Starscream's shrill voice. Great.
“What are you two overblown buffoons doing?” The seeker snarled as he strutted over to Megatron’s rock, “we have to start moving! We don’t have time to waste!”
Starscream’s sour expression grew when he saw Megatron.
“And you,” he started in on Megatron, “close your panels, we don’t have time to be indecent!”
Megatron’s nasal ridge wrinkled. He would be indecent if he wanted to! It was his frame! This old geezer couldn’t tell him what to do!
“No way,” he retorted, “I’m dying. I don’t have—”
Starscream cut him off with an optic roll. (Why did everyone keep cutting him off today?)
“You’re not dying you ignaramus,” Starscream jeered, “your cycle isn’t going to stop this whole operation, now get up. We don’t have time to waste.”
Megatron just stared up at Starscream and soundwave. Why were they acting like this was normal? He was bleeding out of his valve! An orifice that should very much not have energon pouring out of it! And what was this cycle thing they kept talking about? Was it the reason he was currently bleeding out?
“What’s a cycle,” Megatron asked hesitantly, trying to maintain his angry facade, but his fear was starting to seep into his words.
“Your expulsion cycle,” Starscream emphasized as if Megatron was a sparkling, “something you're more than old enough to know about! What are you? a sparkling?”
Megatron tried to look offended, but it was difficult with the fear growing in his chest. He was supposed to know about this? Did Optimus know about this? Was he just that incredibly stupid that he didn’t know something that was common knowledge?
Soundwave, who had admittedly been reading Megatron’s processor to find out when he would stop messing with them, nudged starscream sharply with his elbow. Before the seeker could yell at him for hitting him, Soundwave spoke.
“Query: Lord Megatron is really ignorant of expelling cycle?”
Megatron nodded his helm slowly.
“Explanation: expelling cycle is a biological function. Gestational tank lining is expected once every lunar cycle. Leakage lasts 5-8 solar cycles. Symptoms may include: back strut pain, nausea, abdominal cramping, bloating, fatigue, chassis tenderness, helm aches, digestive upset, mood swings or irritability.”
“Gestational tank?” Megatron sputtered, his helm spinning from the hefty list of symptoms just handed to him, “b-but that can’t be it, coggless bots are infertile. I can’t—”
Megatron cut himself off, remembering that he wasn’t a coggless bot anymore. He had a T-cog. And apparently now the ability to conceive a sparkling, with the added cost of an excelling cycle. Megatron buried his faceplate in his servos, curling up in on himself, his cramps suddenly feeling ten times worse.
“This is worse than dying,” he mumbled.
Soundwave and Starscream exchanged a look.
“Well?” Starscream hissed, “what do you want me to do about it?”
“Lord Magatron: requires sanitation items,” Soundwave said quietly, “Starscream: has items?”
Starscream's nasal ridge wrinkled at the thought. He hadn’t had an expelling cycle in cycles, and was perfectly happy that he was done with it for that matter.
“Of course not,” he hissed back, “should you? Mr always prepared or whatever,”
Soundwave shook his helm.
“Negative.”
Starscream paused. Of course. Soundwave and he were roughly the same. It wouldn’t make sense for either of them to have sanitation items on their person.
“Perhaps Shockwave has some,” Starscream suggested, “he’s still young isn’t he?”
“Shockwave: entering perimenopausal stage. 42% likelihood: of having necessary items.”
Starscream just nodded, not asking why Soundwave knew that specific and intimate piece of information about shockwaves health. That was a can of worms for another time.
“Just go get the stuff,” Starscream waved him off, turning to Megatron. Soundwave nodded briefly before walking off to find Shockwave.
Starscream stared awkwardly at Megatron, who was still mopping in a ball. A situation like this required kind words and comfort, something starscream wasn’t used to giving. He should have left Soundwave to deal with this. But still he inched closer to Megatron, easing himself to sit next to the youngling.
He places a servo on Megatron’s shoulder planting, “There, there,” he strained out, “don’t cry… you will be fine.”
Megatron stiffened. He wanted to pull away, yell something about not being a child, but instead he just leaned into Starscream's side. He felt horrible, emotionally, physically, and maybe even a bit grossed out that this would be a reoccurring thing.
So even if Starscream’s attempt at comfort was strained at best it was still better than nothing. Megatron sniffed again, not wanting to speak and embarrass himself further. Starscream was silently thankful for the fact. He really didn’t want to answer any questions Megatron had about this.
Thankfully Soundwave returned, with shockwave in tow, quickly. Megatron and Starscream quickly parted when they returned, neither wanting to be seen cuddling up to the other.
“I have the tampons as requested, Lord Megatron,” Shockwave said, dangling what was presumably a tampon in front of Megatron. The new warlord took it from the scientist, looking over the small thing.
“How—” Megatron started, and was immediately cut off again.
“Ah yes,” shockwave nodded to himself, probably already catching on to the situation at hand, or maybe soundwave had informed him, “to insert a tampon first remove the outer wrapping. Ensure the string hangs free from the applicator, then line it up with your opening, pointing towards your back struts to follow the frame's natural curve. Insert it into yourself, push down on the applicator and pull out the applicator.”
Megatron followed Shockwave’s instructions all the way up to the word insert. He wanted him to do what? Put this thing inside of him?!? That felt all sorts of weird. But it wasn’t like he had much of a choice.
So Megatron took in a sharp breath before pressing down on the applicator. It felt weird and strange but it was better than bleeding everywhere. Shockwave nodded approvingly.
“Good,” the scientist said, “tampons should be changed every 6-8 vorns, lest you want to contract TSS.”
Megatron blinked.
“What’s TSS?” he asked, narrowing his optics.
Shockwave then went on to describe toxic shock syndrome and the many other ways that his cycle could offline him. Megatron sighed as shockwave prattled on.
Getting his cycle was officially the worst thing that had happened to him yet.