Work Text
It wasn’t fair. He’d only just gotten Megatron back and, before they’d had a chance to say anything to one another, Rewind and Chromedome had whisked him off with the intention of creating
twelve
Matrices of Leadership. If it had been the original three that the plan had called for, Rung was certain that he could do it without issue. But twelve? A sinking feeling settled in the pit of his tank, but Rung tried to remain hopeful; he could heal himself. He’d be alright… wouldn’t he?
Just then, the ping of an incoming call blinked on his HUD.
<<Bright One>>, Megatron’s voice sounded anxious as Rung connected to the communication request. And why wouldn’t he? There was a world-sized titan nearing the ship.
<<I’m alright, gentlespark>>, Rung returned, trying to sound reassuring. <<I can do this.>>
<<I’m coming to you. Where are you?>>
<<No. No, I… I need to be alone for this.>> Only… that was the
last
thing he wanted. He desperately wanted Megatron’s presence, to hold him in his arms once more, to tell him how much he’d missed him, that he’d written a journal entry to him every day during his absence. And yet a part of him knew that if his conjunx followed, it would make what he had to do that much harder. If he didn’t survive the creation of twelve matrices… well, he didn’t want Megatron to have to watch him die. <<Please>>, he added, a kind of sad finality in his tone.
<<Rung….>> Megatron swallowed hard, a shiver running up his back strut. Was something bad about to happen? Did Rung know something he didn’t?
Once he’d reassured Rewind and Chromedome that he needed privacy, he excused himself into the quiet of his office. In spite of his impossibly long lifespan, it felt like only yesterday that he’d joined the crew of the
Lost Light
. That it had been just joors earlier that Skids was pulling him up to safety through the ceiling of his office. Just kliks ago that Megatron had come to him with his metaphorical confession of beginning again, citing Rung as one of the more important figures in his life.
<<Love?>> Megatron’s voice pulled Rung from his thoughts.
Inputting the command on his computer, Rung deleted all of his patient files; he’d already made the decision not to practice psychiatry anymore, so even if he survived, they were no longer needed. <<I’m here.>> He let out a long vent, then triggered his transformation sequence, landing with a thump onto the berth. <<Talk to me.>>
<<What should I say>>, Megatron asked, processor momentarily blanking as he was put on the spot. <<I can tell you about what I’ve been up to once we’ve figured out how to defeat this… thing. That I’ve missed you seems obvious. I don’t->>
Rung activated his long-forgotten creation sequence, light spilling into the room from what had been his spark window. The first matrix was easy. So was the second. But by the fourth, Rung felt bits of himself beginning to ebb like sand washing away from a beach. Realizing that Megatron needed an answer - and that this would be their last communication - Rung took the opportunity to ask for something he’d been desperately wanting.
<<Recite a poem for me. One you’ve made for me but haven’t yet told me. I know you’ve got at least one.>>
Megatron flushed, turning away from the rest of the crew that gathered around him. <<Rung, now may not be the best time to->>
But Rung interrupted again, that same kind of desperate firmness in his voice as before. <<Please, Megatron. There may not be time later.>>
Megatron’s spark spasmed then, the ache in his chest a crushing tightness, but he couldn’t be sure if it was his own fears or if something was happening to Rung.
Maker
, if Rodimus didn’t need him on the bridge….
<<Alright, Bright One>>, Megatron returned. And before he knew it, words were tumbling from his lips. He’d saved up eight-hundred years of poems and now he was suddenly desperate to recite them all to Rung. Worse still was the growing sound of static over the comm.
<<”
Like a song without melody,
A revolution without cause,
I was a mech without purpose
Adrift and lost –
Until you.
You loved me,
And now I find
I am remade,
And home in your smile.
”>>
At the ninth matrix, Rung could feel himself weakening. Megatron must have sensed it too for once more he said, <<I’m coming to you.>>
Rung vented an apologetic laugh. <<I’m sorry, dear one. You may be too late.>>
Megatron’s tank flipped. <<What do you mean?>> But he didn’t wait for Rung’s response, taking off at a sprint towards Rung’s office. Rodimus and several others followed, but Megatron didn’t hear their shouts. All he could focus on was Rung. <<Rung? Talk to me!>>
<<Promise me something, Megatron>>, Rung said then, struggling through the static. It was becoming painful to hang on, but he needed to, just a little longer, to be with Megatron as much as he could.
<<Anything. Just stay with me.>> Why was this ship so damn
big
?! Megatron raced past the corridors leading to Rung’s office, but it felt as if he were running through water; no matter how hard he pushed his frame, he didn’t feel fast enough. He shouldn’t have stayed on the bridge, he should have gone to Rung immediately.
<<Promise that you won’t forget me.>> It was a simple request and yet no one to date had been able to uphold it entirely.
<<I promise, Bright One. I carry a piece of you in my spark. You’ll always be with me. You’ve always
been
with me.>> Megatron realized that Rung’s office wasn’t too much further - but now Rung’s voice was so faint. No… he had to get there in time. He had to make it to Rung!
<<I love you, Megatron>>, he whispered, beginning the creation of the final matrix.
<<Rung! No, keep talking to me!>>
But there was only silence as Megatron finally rounded the corner, spotting Chromedome and Rewind standing outside of Rung’s office. Without addressing them, he barrelled right past to trigger the door. Inside, a thick layer of dust covered everything and, scattered among the grit, were twelve perfectly formed matrices.
“Rung,” Megatron said into the empty room, his voice feeling far away. The glint of something near the window caught his optic and Megatron approached slowly, realizing that it was the only concrete piece of his conjunx left: his glasses. Reaching out, Megatron took them into his digits and lifted them, ignoring the sudden feeling of wet on his face. He’d only just gotten Rung back and now he’d lost him forever.
Feeling a servo on his pauldron, Megatron turned to look; it was Rodimus.
“There’ll be time to mourn him later,” he said as gently as he could. “We’ve got a universe to save.”
“Yeah,” Megatron returned, though it was hard to find a reason to save it now that Rung was gone.
Opening a subspace pocket in his chest near his spark chamber, Megatron carefully deposited Rung’s glasses and helped gather the matrixes, unaware that the memories he’d had of his conjunx were slowly beginning to fade.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~