Chapter Text
Even with the jitters of a low adrenaline high making Dorothy rolls her shoulders again, she can ignore it just enough with focusing on her family's safety, growth, and settling in again.
"Alright Hashtag," Calling out to the tallest of her baby Terrans, "Put Bumblebee down. I think you've celebrated him out."
"Sure thing Mom-Dot!" She chirps in an accent that had a bit of Cockney Brit in it.
Shaking her head, Dorothy just nods to Bumblebee as he nods back to her in thanks – Inhale, exhale. Count to ten – before he starts to corral them towards Optimus' trailer. Smiling, Dorothy turns to Alex and kisses him on the cheek.
"Can you help with the round-up? I want to do a check-in with the big bots." Hooking her thumb back to them.
"Course Dottie." Alex smiles up at her like she held the universe.
Cupping her face, he leans up for another kiss, one that lingers and has both of them holding onto each other a little tighter. When they finally lean back, Alex presses one more quick peck to her lips before he's jogging off to catch up with the rest of their family.
Inhale, exhale. Count to ten.
Dorothy recites to herself again as she rolls her shoulders and shakes off the tingle in her right thigh. It causes her to limp the first few steps, but motion gets the sensation under control, and soon she striding up to Megs and Optimus as they talk in low tones.
" — good as new."
"I do not doubt it, but I rather burn off this nitrous first," Megatron grumbles, shifting his right shoulder, which makes a hollow groan that has Optimus making aborted motions to him, "Optimus. I am fine," He waves him off with a slight upturn of his lips, the red light of his optics dimming as he narrows them, "I've had worst done to me by that dinobot of yours."
Even as Optimus grimaces at whatever memory that must be, he still nods in acquiescence, "I am aware, but Grimlock has only ever bitten off chucks of your arms. He has never attempted to slice through it. And certainly not in the wrong spot."
"I would be colored impressed if he knew where." Megatron smirks.
"Don't underestimate him again," Optimus chides, the faintest of smiles on his lips, "It's how you kept getting bit."
Harrumphing at that, which meant it was true, Dorothy will admit that she thought the same when she met the Dinobots' leader. But that soon changed when she and many others watched him fight. It was frightening as he wasn't only quick on his feet with all that brute strength, but quick in figuring out how to fight his enemies.
"Hey you two," Standing straighter when they looked down at her, their glowing optics still a bit too bright with the waning sun to their left, "We're going to get out of here. We were hoping to have Optimus give us a lift, unless you need to stay until G.H.O.S.T. gets here." The bitterness in her tone a bit heavy-handed today, but Dorothy thinks its allowed.
Optics widening, Optimus looks to Megs, then the twisted form of the half-sunk factory, and finally to where his trailer was just beyond the dock, indecision marring his face and making Dorothy feel a bit bad for springing that on him so suddenly.
"I will stay and wait for G.H.O.S.T."
"What?" She and Optimus both look to Megatron in shocked only for him to roll his optics.
"I can say I stayed with the wreck, since I'm clearly injured, while you went patrolling to see if Mandroid or any of his arachnamechs got away. I'll even throw in that Dorothy went with you if they ask about her whereabouts."
"If you're sure —" Optimus starts, beating Dorothy to the question, but Megatron just shakes his head.
"The Terrans are our priority now." He says stiffly as he heaves himself up, him and the car creaking in unflattering ways.
Megatron reaches out to pick her up, but passes her over into the cradle of Optimus' open palms, and at her new height can see that the Autobot was not pleased but agreed.
Optimus never did like leaving a man behind.
"You are correct, old friend." Optimus sighs, lips pulling to the side as he watches Megatron, unimpressed, as the helicopter rolls his optics and mutters 'Of course'.
"Big Red," Agent Schloder voice cuts through the friendly moment, "We got your message and we're in route. ETA fifteen minutes. Confirm?"
Before Optimus can reach for his right audial Megatron is somehow patching through into his system and answering for him. Dorothy wondered how, but her specialty lend itself to biology and ecology, not engineering.
"Agent Schloder," Megatron bites out in that vaguely friendly, but clearly threatening tone of his, "Optimus is currently doing a perimeter check and cannot give himself away. He will comm us when he is sure he will not be made by his prey. Understood." Grinning widely and winking at them before turning his back so he was watching the wreck.
Dorothy expects them to start moving, but after a few seconds she turns to Optimus, seeing how he was softly staring at Megatron's back with a small tender smile, and she wonders. And seeing how he jolts into action, obviously catching himself, and turns quickly to walk them over to where the rest of her family waits Dorothy thinks her first thought isn't so far off.
Though she’s pretty sure that Megatron won't notice, and Optimus won't act on it, which means the next couple years are going to be more ridiculous than they already are. Pinching the bridge of her nose, Dorothy shakes her head with a smile.
I'm not even surprised this is my life anymore.
"Alright Prime, squeeze his servo again."
Ratchet watches as Optimus gives the gentlest of squeezes, looking pained when Megatron doesn’t squeeze back, not registering it. His EM field flutters sadly at it as Megatron's spikes in jagged jumps as the former Decepticon Leader glowers down at his arm and servo like they had personally insulted him.
The scanner pings back and Ratchet finds he's still missing the connection of at least fourteen nerve-bundle wires, some from Megatron's heavy-duty transformations during the fight against a ... Man-droid?
Honestly, it was briefings like this that had Ratchet happy he wasn't in the field or on clean-up anymore.
But whatever or whoever it was had taken out a great deal of the wires with their hackjob to take the helicopter’s arm, but it was the final hit that knocked him down and had crushed most of the connectors. Though it was concerning that this unknown entity knew that he needed the whole arm and that they were mere centimeters off. The only saving grace was that without its connection to the cannon it wouldn't fire, a safety mechanism to keep Megatron from being shot in the back if he didn't have it. The other safety feature was the power source, and a regular human would lack any power that could power The cannon.
Or at least Ratchet hoped so.
"And it's not causing any distress?" Optimus asks again, causing even the medic to roll his optics.
But he also catches how Megatron's glare softens somewhat as he looks back to his former rival.
"As I said before, not at all. The only distress I find myself in is that I can't feel your servo in mine," Megatron smirks easily, red optics gleaming with as much mirth as his EM as Optimus' field sputters, "Though perhaps my repair is being delayed."
The gunmetal bot’s tone is all faux accusation, the need to pick a fight still humming in his flight engines, but if he thought he was getting a rise out of him he had another thing coming.
"If I'm correct, and I always am here," Slowly gesturing to the medbay with his scanner, "You didn't want to go under so I could strip back all the plating and disengage your arm. No one is here to watch you be 'brave', just stupid." Ratchet huffs, not hiding his smirk as flight engines rumble low and the left side of Megatron's plating begins to flare up in offense.
But just as quickly Optimus is expanding his field, the palpable hope and tranquility of the Prime lowering the tension that Megatron brought with him everywhere he went.
"I thought there was a rule here that no antagonizing glyphs were allowed," Optimus says pointedly as he looks up at him, Megatron grinning like a cybercat. But it is short-lived, "That includes you too Megatron." Leveling that 'I'm not mad, just disappointed' look at the other mech.
"He started it." Both of them say, but Ratchet isn't enough of a youngling to gesture at the other as Megatron did.
'The Look' becomes more drawn with the addition of his fins tilting back, Optimus' unknowing version of turbopuppy eyes, which seems to be as effective on Cons as it was on the most rambunctious of the Autobots. Megatron's pinched look was a thing of beauty, like a building had just been dropped on him and Starscream had proven him wrong.
It was wonderfully unflattering.
With a humph, the former Con settles more into his seat on the exam table, his field held still. This was the closest thing Ratchet was getting to an apology, he's sure once he's out of audial range Megatron will apologize to Optimus in his own way.
Or right now.
Ratchet has to hold back the atmosphere he wants to vent, a strange but useful human action, at how Optimus instantly brightens and Megatron returns it with a light smile.
Turning his back on the sickening sweet scene, Ratchet steps over to the other exam table a couple dozen meters away. He stands on the other side so he can lean back against it as he updates his personal datapad while also giving the odd couple some time alone. Against his better judgement, Ratchet hasn't said much about this in recent years.
He knows they’re something to each other now, but he also knows that Optimus mentioned early on that he can’t show favoritism, which Ratchet agrees with, especially with their situation.
He never much cared for G.H.O.S.T. in it's totality, less so with its name having 'ordinance' in it. It didn't give the best first impression if anyone paid attention to it. The humans were fine though, even if he had only gotten along with a few of the agents, mostly in R&D. But they soon left to procure civilian rank again after a short while of being with the newly formed Special Ops organization.
Something I thought I'd have by now.
Unable to hold in the vent, Ratchet sighs at the loss of what could have been. He didn't blame Optimus for his decision to blow up the bridge or how the humans kept a critical eye on them. He will however blame whatever oil-stain slagface higher-up that thought it was okay to try and hack into his files on his teammates and friends!
After that Ratchet had put in the bare basic info the database provided. He's sure all his mentors from Protihex Medical Mechanics University were rolling in their graves – as the humans say – for his lack of protocol. But it was for the safety of the Autobots and the very few Decepticons that had made Earth their home. Even the Cons that decided to hold on to their more aggressive beliefs were in this group as Ratchet would never allow an entity he didn't fully trust have access to healing POWs.
Besides, with Wheeljack doing something to connect his datapad to some analog, but vast, network called 'cloud storage' Ratchet could have all the detailed notes he wanted. Like how he had to flush the systems of Megatron's arm and then direct the mech's nanobots to clean up the leakage that could have seeped into his chassis. Rolling his optics as he inputs that, Ratchet sneers at how much of a paranoid fragger Megatron has remained, not letting him do a deep clean, ever! And Primus knows if it's ever happened before.
Shaking his helm, Ratchet closes out his form, his optics falling on the one below it marked Terrans.
Wheeljack had spoken at length about one of them, Twitch, and had minor makeup data on her, but nothing that would be more useful to detail what they were looking at with this new species sect. It was interesting and hopeful to know about them, as well as incredibly infuriating that Ratchet was stuck here. He somehow found himself under less scrutiny than Optimus and Megatron, yet had the most security pointed at him. Maybe the paranoia that Smokescreen diagnosed him with was correct, but Ratchet rather be overly prepared for anything than not.
And yet somehow, I hadn't prepared for this!
At that moment, massaging the bridge of his nose ridge, Ratchet wishes he could be in more than one place so he could make sure these Terrans were on the road to living healthy functions and —
"There are car shows in the area, right?" He asks sharply, even as he starts checking for street races in the state, Philidelphia coming up near constantly.
There was abrupt silence behind him before a deep rumbling chuckle was followed by Optimus' agreeable tone, "Yes. I believe we can get him to detour. Plus, the racing in Europe has cooled down as well."
"Good," Ratchet grins as he walks around the table, preparing his tools again, giving Megatron a pointed look, "He can do the full system's check for you too. It's been too long since your last one I'm assuming?"
Megatron glowers at him. Stubborn about his own health as Optimus was.
Are all leaders like this?
"My health —"
"Is equal to the Terrans. Everybots' health is," The medic cuts him off as his visor slides down and he gets back to work, "I better see it in his notes or you're going to see a side of me you won't like."
"I was not aware there were others to see." Megatron quips back before grunting at how Ratchet welds the nerve-ending wire back a bit too quickly before checking his work.
The low echo of his landing shakes the shallow river valley, a few of the shipping containers shifting before settling, and the fog resting over the waters dispels only to roll back over itself, conjugating into the thick mist again. Looking around the dock it was unbelievable how quickly G.H.O.S.T. was able to clean up the wreck of the mobile lab. The port looked completely undisturbed. No massive laser groove, cracked concrete, or broken buildings and cranes. Even the battleship had been removed.
Walking to the edge, Megatron looks out onto the water, scanning for any micron of debris, and finds nothing but the usual detritus that slipped into rivers and the aquatic fauna.
Impressive.
When the Autobot, Wheeljack, had come into the Mess all abuzz about the wreck, stating they collected it all Megatron had been skeptical. But Wheeljack had not stopped regaling all the bots that filtered in and out of G.H.O.S.T. for check-ins or fuel in the morning. Everyone was treated to an extensive ramble about the intriguing finds they were uncovering in the labs. Megatron only listened to it with half an audial as the only thing he was interested in was a location of Mandroid to pay him back for the new scar, and to figure out how he had controlled his former soldiers as Ratchet hadn't determined the cause for it as of yet.
Silent minutes pass before a ferry's lights begin to cut through the thick fog, gleaming yellow and ruby optics easier to place in the darkness than the low powered Earth electricity. With a smile, Megatron holds aloft his left servo as he tracks the anchor being swung around in Breakdown's servos before the brawler launches it to him.
Stanching it out of the air, Megatron wraps the chain around his arm twice and displaces his mass down, Breakdown making quick work of pulling the ferry to the dock with him as the anchor point in the fullest literal sense. He brings them in a touch too quick, the bow of the ferry knocking against the dock with a dull thud, but nothing that disturbed the peace.
"Knockout. Breakdown. I trust your voyage was well?" Laying the chain and anchor down softly.
"Great Boss! No delays or anything this time."
Breakdown grins before he's turning around and walking over to the small bridge where Knockout is all but lounging back on it. With a cheeky wink, Knockout uncrosses his legs and scoots closer to the edge so his conjunx can grasps his hips and pick him off the structure. But ever the romantic, Breakdown walks with his ruby red cargo onto the concrete dock.
Megatron is sure it's mostly for the joy of holding his partner as much as it was for making sure the river water didn't touch Knockout at all.
A cranky medic was a feral medic after all.
"You caught us at the perfect time M," The medic grins slowly, as his pedes touch solid ground, sauntering over with nary a sound, "We were coming in for a race in Philadelphia and a car show in Boston. I need to see if I need a new model."
Nodding, he asks, "And no issue with registration?"
It was something they all had to do when crossing over borders and it was an easy enough concession that the Autobots and the few non-aggressive Decepticons had agreed to. For some reason or another humans were particularly touchy about moving between designated lands.
A puff of atmosphere is his answer as Knockout rolls his optics, "Agent killjoy was there, but luckily by video so I muted him. But not before he made sure to remind me that I'm on warning two." He sneers, plating puffing out.
Megatron chuckles as he is aware of Agent Schloder's dislike for Knockout, and vice versa, the bi-monthly meetings the human held at HQ always having one section dedicated to the medic’s conduct. He can understand to an acute degree as the Helexite is an acquired taste and has a habit of viciousness when he feels wronged that Megatron can admired. But it also takes a lot to ruffle Knockout's plating, and shockingly, at their first meeting, the human found a way to push all of Knockout's buttons.
"I assume three with this 'borrowed' ferry of yours."
At the mere mention of it a spark of excitement comes from Breakdown as Knockout's field is full of pride as his face plates settle into an overly smug expression.
"I just don't think so M. Breaky?"
"We got it all planned out Boss!" The jeep says demonstratively, servos open wide as his smile, "The Susquehanna River is one of the most dangerous river in the state because of its currents. Oh! And did you know that because it's so wide it has a collection of islands all around. They're cute. But what I was saying was that with those currents, it's not like boats haven't floated off right? We'll just put in an anonymous tip after the humans that own it put out a call for it. Great plan, right?"
It difficult not to grin at the bright energy the former Stunticon had. Once one of his quietest followers, Breakdown had since been more vocal in the years after choosing to demilitarize with him.
"It has merit, but I suggest a delay. Perhaps two hours after to avoid suspicion." Breakdown nodding as his optics frost over as he changes parameters for the alert.
"So," Knockout starts, face plates smoothing into a charming expression, "I got to read what old Jacks had to say on the 'possibility of forming Cybertronian life on a carbon-based world' and listened to Prime’s history lesson on the Emberstone," Pausing, a brow ridge lifts expectantly, "I know we weren’t asked to detour for small talk. What is it. That you. Want?" Each word punctuated with a sharp tap to his arm.
"Your skills. Though surely you know and wish only to hear that praise again," Smirking at the faux gasp of shock from the medic, "I have been threatened to receive a full work up, but your main objective and more important quarry will be incredibly delightful."
That immediately draws a suspicious look from the bonded.
"I doubt anyone is happy for a check-up unless they're angling for something else." Knockout lifts an optic ridge as he leans back against Breakdown.
"Trust me," Megatron grins, "And if I’m wrong, I will make sure you get two barrels of the brew I’ve just completed."
"Oh, has it been five years already?" Knockout asks even as Breakdown gives them both away with his excited grin and shoulder platings’ aborted little jump.
"Don’t jest. I know it is on your processor." Smirking at the smaller bot.
Shameless, red mech shrugs, "I’m a mech with taste, so sue me."
"The last one was pretty good Boss." Breakdown agrees, "So what did you want in exchange?"
While not overly hostile or needing to blackmail each other – anymore – the practice of low-stake bartering had passed seamlessly over to the demilitarized Decepticons as a various set of hobbies were rediscovered or discovered for the first time during their peaceful exile.
"The ingredient list to Knockout’s polish and we're even."
Grinning from rim to rim, Knockout looks like he was just told he’d get a chance to race against the likes of Blurr or Hot Shot while sporting a vintage Earth car mode.
"Vanity finally taking root?"
"Not at all."
And yet, the grin grew, smug as a pneuma-lion’s grin, "Ah... I see."
"Do you?" Megatron challenges the medic, receiving no response as he walks around him with a gleam in his field.
"I'll take your measurements during your check-up and adjust it," He says instead, "So where are we off to?"
"These coordinates," Sending them over short-wave comms, which has the bonded standing straighter and on alert, ready for action, "Scope out the area before contacting me with a suitable area for a tirage-tent."
"Of course my liege. We will not fail." Knockout smirks, a dangerous lift to it.
Then folding down into his sleek Aston Martin mode, he flashes his headlights in code to say 'Contact soon' before tearing off to the edge of the docks, Breakdown revving and following after. Once the headlights weren't visible Megatron jumps into the air, taking off in the opposite direction to dissuade detection. He had only circled back, getting no farther than an Earth mile, when his comm is pinged from a nearby tower.
Checking it he answers curiously, "Breakdown?"
"Sir, I think... Thundercracker says he hasn't seen anything after we told him, but I'm sure they're following me. Us."
Megatron wasn't surprised, not with how gestalts worked, but it would prove a hinderance if they weren't apprehended soon as the other Stunticons had proven they had no want for peace. Right now, the gunmetal mech could only hope that the ocean crossing had stalled or delayed them if they had indeed picked up Breakdown's trail. It was Knockout's constant traveling that had been the biggest deterrent in the gestalt pinning them down, not their best strategy in hindsight.
But no matter, Megatron would attempt reason again, but if not, he had no issues fighting the overly confident and inadept Motormaster and showing him once again why he should never cross him.
"Thank you for telling me Breakdown. I'll have Prime's bots look into it." Pushing his engines so he could relay this to Optimus without delay.