Megatron stalked through the quiet hallway, the day weighing heavily on his spiked shoulders, though not tainting his expression. He could only hope that none of his incompetent underlings would bother him before he reached his quarters, but, as usual, a comm crackled to life by his audio receptors. Megatron imagined his hands around the skinny neck that belonged to the whiney voice that summoned him, if only to curb his malice.

"Lord Megatron," Starscream began, "We have not been able to locate any new sources of energon in the latest quadrant."

"And you are telling me this why?" Megatron's patience had long since worn thin earlier that day.

"Well, uh," the seeker stuttered annoyingly, "The troops and myself need our daily rations, which we normally subtract from whatever we find, but there is none, and we need energy, and—"

"Then I suppose you are out of luck, Starscream. Go beg for scraps from our medic like the dog you are."

The decepticon leader offlined his comm angrily; Megatron would rather listen to the resonance blaster than his second-in-command's ramblings. Some cycles he wondered why he kept Starscream around at all, but he was good for managing his temper. Moreover, he was despicable; one of the necessary traits for a great decepticon. Nevertheless, he was done being a leader for today.

The doors to Megatron's quarters parted at his presence and, once they closed swiftly behind him, he sighed and allowed his tiredness to show. He sat down heavily on the berth and rested his weary head in his hands. His minions saw him as this "great leader" who never showed weakness, but, in reality, Megatron was just like any other mech. He craved happiness, acceptance, even love, but, as a leader, he had to push all of these feelings aside for the greater good. However, on days like today, he wondered whether this war was truly worth the fight. If the decepticons lost, he would be cast aside as a failure if he was not killed for his crimes, which was the more likely scenario. If his team won, he would continue to rule and this perpetual feeling of loneliness would only climax and conquer his body. He was not sure if he would be able to handle it.

A servo landed delicately on the silver mech's shoulder and he started at the touch. He found himself face-to-visor with Soundwave and he immediately straightened and took on his look of general discontent. Megatron was sometimes frightened by how silent the slender mech could be.

"What is it Soundwave?" he asked disdainfully.

Soundwave displayed a video recording taken moments ago of Megatron slumped over, regretting his life decisions.

"I am fine; Knockout just completed a shoddy repair job on one of my actuators."

Soundwave gazed back silently, clearly not believing his master. Megatron ex-ventilated sharply; his surveillance expert did not miss a thing aboard this ship, especially when it came to his leader. For once the silver mech knew that honesty was the best choice of action.

"Some days are harder than others," he began, opening up to one of his oldest friends, "I just wonder if I am on the right path."

"'I shall crush Optimus Prime'," Soundwave replied using one of Megatron's own vocal recordings. It was slightly unnerving to talk to him when it was like talking to a mirror.

At this, the mighty figure rumbled with laughter. It felt good to laugh, like he was back on Cybertron, celebrating after another victory in the gladiatorial arena.

"Do not worry, that outcome is inevitable, I worry about what will happen after we have achieved victory. If I will even get time like this… Time with you."

Almost immediately after uttering it, Megatron regretted revealing how much he enjoyed his time with Soundwave and, to his dismay, he felt his faceplate flush generously. There would be no playing this off, especially when Soundwave would not doubt be recording every moment of their encounter. The silver mech awkwardly turned away and pretended to be absorbed with the slightly askew pillow at the head of the berth.

"'Time with you'," Soundwave returned the phrase and Megatron heard just how sappy he truly sounded.

Agitated, he stood and went to leave, but the skinny mech had managed to get a firm grip on Megatron's hand without his knowledge. The decepticon leader, the colour of his face nearly matching his optics, gaped at the long fingers interlaced with his own.

"Soundwave?"

The blue mech nodded happily, gently tugging his master back down on the berth. Megatron used his free hand to cup Soundwave's chin and tilt it upwards.

"I never imagined…" Megatron trailed off and leaned down, softly kissing where Soundwave's mouth used to be. Only a few cybertronians deigned to remember that the faceless 'con used to have a face. It had been damaged beyond repair when Soundwave was younger, mere solar cycles before war ravaged the planet. Megatron had only known the flier for a brief time before that, but the accident had changed Soundwave from a carefree bot to a skilled surveillance drone. The spiked mech had been enamored with him; Soundwave used to be charismatic and joyous, but with his new "face" and the war, he had been forced to change his outlook on life with the rest of Cybertron's population. It was during times like this that Megatron knew his old friend was still there, despite the radical changes in both their lives.

Megatron's spark had not felt this light in ages, and he felt the need to spread his wings. He took both of Soundwave's servos in his, kissed his forehead, and, excitedly, said, "Come fly with me."
Soundwave nodded and walked with his leader, hand in hand, to the bay doors that held back the world. The doors opened for the two mechs and they transformed and took flight.

The warm night air sailed past Megatron as he hurtled through the clouds with Soundwave's lithe alt form cruising beside him. His worries of the future melted away; with Soundwave at his side, Megatron knew he could accomplish anything.