Night sky

A collateral songfic for the fifth chapter („Night") of Thornwitch's M-rated TFA fanfic „Wolf by the Ears ". Lyrics by Alphaville. Original fic can be found here: .net/s/6993918/1/Wolf_By_the_Ears

Megatron was eager to ignore the fact that the young Prime was still awake. The newly activated coding, however, surfaced immediately after he powered down his CPU, and as the conscious control faded away, the slave programming got so strong that it eventually woke him from the much-needed recharge. He stared at the ceiling of the elegant room and silently cursed at the quintesson who invented the whole coding. He hoped that the five-faced scum died a long and painful death.

But he also knew from a long life's experience that cursing itself doesn't solve anything for him. He needed a temporary solution for this immediate problem. He had to find a way to play along, for now. Let's dance in style, let's dance for a while he thought. He marched out of the berthroom, wondering where his unwanted Autobot flatmate might have been.

His gaze fell on the city lights, the wonderous night view on his home planet. Despite all that happened to him, it still felt good to be here. There were Decepticon warships cruising in space, and Decepticon fortresses in the most remote corners of the known galaxy, but his ultimate goal would have been coming home. There! He was brought back. By the mech who should have killed him.

To his little surprise, said mech was sitting just a few metrics from him, taking in the same view. Something in his fine-tuned spark suggested that he joined his master, and he was too tired to resist for now. He was careful to keep a safe distance, though. Heaven can wait, we're only watching the skies.

From this angle, the little Autobot didn't seem to be that fearsome. Megatron looked at him, hoping for the best but expecting the worst. The Prime was deep in his thoughts, and Megatron would've bet he was thinking of something he had recently lost. Most likely, on that mudball planet. And whatever the mechling lost, he lost it to Megatron. Will he catch retribution, he wondered. Are you going to drop the bomb or not? The mech turned to his newly aquired pawn, but didn't show any other reaction. There was only sadness... more exactly, grief. He must have been remembering that Autobot cyber-ninja who made himself the dead hero of Detroit.
Let us die young or let us live forever.

Prime turned away from him, back to the dark sky. Megatron remembered the time when he had fought for the freedom of this planet. And they had won. And then, they had lost. They had won Cybertron's freedom, and had lost that of their own. Then, after a long and scoreless civil war, the Decepticons were free to leave and never come back. We don't have the power but we never say never.

He gave the blighter Autobot a judging look. Sitting in a sandpit, life is a short trip. And even this youngling had already lost a subordinate he valued and relied on. The music's for the sad men, he nodded.

Mildly, he wondered how the Autobots accepted the overall cost of their final victory. Those few unexperienced bots surely hadn't expected it to be this dirty. Can you imagine when this race is won, turn our golden faces into the sun? He couldn't help his sarcasm. Praising our leaders we're getting in tune. He remembered that slagpiece Xaaron and the rest of the Council.The music's played by the madmen.

He registered the Autobot's disgusted grin, and it made him feel sick. His forever young master had reacted to his unspoken thoughts? Primus, please no... I want to be forever young.

His so-called master flinched as a telltale sign of him feeling the Decepticon Leader's rage and disgust. He even seemed to be scared of him, for a nanosec. Good. Do you really want to live forever, forever and ever?

Unbeknownst to him, Optimus was trying to guess what Prowl would have said to him in this overly awkward situation. He was being forced to share an apartment with the Decepticon warlord! Only a few months ago, they shared the same planet and even that turned out to be catastrophic. Several times.

But Prowl would have said something phylosophical. Maybe something like „some are like water, some are like the heat". The other cyberninja, Jazz, would have put it as „some are a melody and some are the beat". Either versions sounded pathetic to him at the moment.

Beside him, Megatron was in a fret. If the sparkbond kept strengthening at this rate, he would soon be able to read the little Prime's thoughts. He would have prefered being killed on the spot. The fool thought he granted Megatron mercy? Wrong. He was granted a chance for revenge.

Autobots. Sooner or later they all will be gone. Including this one. Unlike those old morons in the Council, this mechling was almost respectable with his naivety. Why don't they stay young?

He looked at the once-unknown bridgebuilder without any respect. It's so hard to get old without a cause. The Prime felt rather uncomfortable under his piercing gaze. The Autobot knew he was seething.

He had to get rid of his master, whatever it may cost to his already scarred spark. In fact, he should have got rid of the mechling before he would do more damage to him. Silently, Megatron wondered if any miracle would save him before the bond gets complete and his dark blue spark gets addicted to the Autobot because of that fragged programming. I don't want to perish like a fading horse.

Optimus looked at him again, and gave a reassuring, distant smile. Megatron hid his fears behind his usual seething, but he was sure his spark still gave him away. He didn't want that!

Yet, the smile of his Autobot was so innocent, so harmless. Youth is like diamonds in the sun, and he couldn't filter another Earthling cliche from his CPU: diamonds are forever.

Wonderful perspectives, really. He would have prefered the Prime was at least older when they first met. Things would have been easier, he mused. So many adventures couldn't happen today.

A few steps away, the mechling was wondering if he would be able to pull that „captured enemy being treated honorably" idea. Would the Decepticon be able to cope with the concept, or had he lost the ability to peacefully co-exist with another being? So many songs we forgot to play, he sighed.

His Decepticon gave him another judging look (which was possibly meant to disguise his valid concern for his spark integrity) and he rapidly turned away. This had increased the war machine's irritation. So many dreams are swinging out of the blue. He would have preferred a plan to set the Council on fire, even if he wouldn't have been able to participate in such action.

He cherished these plans, nevertheless. We let them come true.