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It wasn't uncommon for Shockwave to feel pain through the amica bond he shared with Soundwave. Less common than hearing Starscream's pleas for mercy, but often enough. Especially when Starscream wasn't around, or was already hurt and Megatron needed another living, breathing target for his ire.
But this pain was different. Soundwave mutely endured everything Megatron threw at him, saving his tears for Shockwave's embrace in the cold hours of the night. But now, raw, deep pain cut through the bond, followed by silent pleading. I'm sorry/forgive me/I'm not strong enough/someone help me, anyone!
Shockwave's decision was immediate. Whatever was going on, he needed to interfere. Logically, whatever was causing the Chief Intelligence Officer such pain was a threat to the Decepticon cause. So he put down his tools without a second thought and stomped out of the lab. He followed the bond unerringly, sending verbal reassurance. I am coming. Be strong.
No! You'll get hurt! Stay away… but Soundwave's words dissolved unconvincingly into sobs, and Shockwave marched on.
He barely registered that it was Megatron's berthroom door that he tore open with little effort. The Nemesis was made of paper, if an angry amica was barreling through it. Error.
Megatron stared at him, frozen in shock as he kneeled in his massive berth. Soundwave was folded over in front of him, arms forced behind his back, face smothered by rumpled thermals. A low moan of pain filtered through the thermals, and Shockwave was galvanized back into action. “ Let him go,” he growled, aiming his massive cannon right at Megatron’s head for the first time in his life. Error.
“This doesn't concern you, Shockwave. Leave us.” Megatron said warningly, shifting his hips. Another hiss from Soundwave.
The cannon whined, energy swirling inside the barrel. “ I said LET HIM GO.”
“Or what? Or nothing. I am your lord. Get out. ” And, utterly unconcerned, he continued like Shockwave wasn't there, like he would leave and pretend he'd seen nothing.
In another age, he would have.
In another age, he would not have even come here.
But he loved Soundwave, and Soundwave was hurt.
ERROR],,!*&y(*^;;
And so he fired his cannon point-blank directly into Megatron's head.
Of course, one blast did almost nothing permanent to the heavily armored warlord, but he was slammed against the wall by the force of the shot, and Shockwave was grabbing Soundwave by the waist and sprinting away as fast as his heavy, clumsy legs could take him.
Megatron roared behind him, and a returning shot scorched past his left audial.
Threat analysis: Red.
Retreat: imperative.
Escape: 10% chance.
He flung himself through corridor after corridor, dodging shots, sometimes blindly firing behind him, rarely getting a roar of indignation for his efforts.
He took random elevators and maintenance halls, until he stopped in a very dusty closet. His vents were burning, heaving with the effort of activity he quite literally wasn't made for, and he leaned against the wall, holding Soundwave close.
Soundwave? Are you hurt? he sent through the bond with as much concern as his broken processor could muster. Error.
Soundwave: will live, came the weak reply, tinged with overwhelming pain.
Let me run a diagnostics scan.
I am fine.
Please, Soundwave. He had never pleaded with anyone before. Error. You could be seriously injured.
Soundwave lifted one arm to allow easy access to one of his ports, hissing through his teeth. The sound was hollow behind his mask…which was cracked, and leaking pale blue.
Shockwave had never wished so badly for his own head to be miraculously restored as then. He longed to comfort Soundwave… what are these feelings?
ERROR
Soundwave's diagnostic results were not pretty. Torn mesh, broken calipers, cracked nodes…to say nothing of his head trauma and strained shoulders.
Soundwave, you need a medic, he said seriously, sending as much comfort as he could, which wasn't much at all. His processor railed at its inadequacy. Soundwave needed something he did not have. Error.
Knockout: unlikely to risk Megatron's wrath for my sake.
Soundwave, are you able to make a ground bridge?
What are you planning?
Answer the question.
One, perhaps, but I will likely crash afterwards.
Just one is all we need. I will protect you. Error.
Coordinates?
A place in the desert, where Autobot sightings were frequent.
Shockwave: lost his processor?
Autobots are well known for their softness. We can use this to your advantage.
We are their enemies.
Not anymore. Error.
Shockwave: cannot be serious.
I have no loyalty to someone who would hurt my amica, no, my conjunx so callously. Tell me, do you think the Decepticon cause is worth the depravity Megatron has sunk to?
ERROR
You care only for logic, not the cause.
Yes. And logically, Megatron has not served his own cause for millennia.
Shockwave…is right. Let us not delay, then.
Sure enough, Soundwave passed out as soon as the bridge closed. Shockwave cradled him in his lap, and waited. He knew the Autobots would respond to the ground bridge signature - they were so very predictable.
And sure enough, within an hour, two bots were approaching their position cautiously. He raised his arms to the sky and called down to them. “We surrender. Soundwave is in need of medical care.”
“And why should we believe that?” Arcee snapped, blasters leveled at his single optic.
In response, he tore out the thick cable that powered his cannon. Without the extra charge, the arm went limp. “I am now unarmed,” he stated simply, ignoring the pain, and the energon spreading on the ground next to him.
“Like you'd willingly leave yourself helpless.”
“I have done exactly that. And Soundwave is in no shape to fight. You may restrain us however you wish, but Soundwave's condition is truly dire.” He framed Soundwave's broken mask with his claws significantly.
The restraints of choice included visual dampeners, as it happened. He could not blame the suspicious Autobots.
They were escorted to…somewhere, where Shockwave was unceremoniously kicked to his knees and Soundwave was whisked away. “Wait, I have diagnostics for your medic.” He pinged the nearest person with a data packet, which was accepted, to his surprise. And presumably shuffled to the correct party, because he heard Ratchet gasp and drop something.
“ Who did this? NOBODY deserves this, not even a Decepticon!”
“Megatron,” he said simply. “I don't know why. Only Soundwave knows, and it would be logical to assume he does not wish to divulge much.”
“I wouldn't blame him. Alright, I'll take care of him. Get this ‘con to a cell, won't you?”
“I was hoping to stay with him. He may become distressed in my absence.”
“Soundwave, the unflappable faceless wonder? I doubt it. Get him out-”
“Soundwave asked me for help,” he pleaded, for the second time that night. “He will be lost without me.” Error.
“Good grief, you're acting like he's your conjux or something.”
“He is.” Error.
Those two words fell on thunderous silence.
Then laughter.
“Now I know you're lying. You'd never conjux anyone. ”
“Untrue. I have conjuxed Soundwave.” Error .
“Bah, whatever, you can stay if that's what it takes to make you shut up.”
In a way, he didn’t know if he was lying or not. Certainly he felt the same about Soundwave as he always did for anyone: Absolutely nothing. But when he wasn’t looking, when moments snuck up on him, Soundwave was the only reason he ever felt anything at all. Peace, when he was focusing too hard on something and Soundwave silently watched his back. Satisfaction when he debated Soundwave hotly on something, regardless of who won. Quiet rage, when Soundwave was in danger. He did not know what these feelings were, after the fact. But his long term memory kept a relentless tally of Soundwave-centric errors and blank spots, and Soundwave was a trustworthy enough ally that he had relentlessly ignored what the errors meant for the state of his processor. For eons.
Ratchet worked in tense silence, Shockwave watching him steadily after the dampener was removed. He held Soundwave's hand in his claw, and wished he had a hand instead. Error.
Ratchet sighed finally, tossing his tools away. “Most of this is self-repair work, albeit the slow kind. I've done what I can with what I have.”
“We are in your debt, Ratchet.”
“Yeah, yeah, why couldn't you have gone to your own medic?”
“Because I defied Megatron, and questioned the logic of staying on his ship for much longer. And Knockout is a coward, he would not have harbored us with any secrecy.”
“Hah, picking up some bad habits from Screamer, are you?”
“I have no desire to depose Megatron. The cause was lost a long time ago. I only wish to stay out of his sight.”
“You understand we're in an uncomfortable position ourselves. We can't exactly trust Megatron's two most loyal commanders to roam free, however unemployed you might be now.”
“That is a logical fear to have. I will discuss our options with Soundwave when he awakes.” He turned his gaze pointedly to Soundwave's face, where the glass had been cleaned and a nanite patch had been placed over the worst fracture. It still sluggishly oozed energon, but the nanites were already working fast. Error .
It was midmorning the next day before Soundwave awoke, tensing instantly like he expected an attack at any second.
“Query: location?” His voice was small and hoarse.
“We are at the Autobot base. Ratchet gave you medical aid. He said it is up to your self-repair now.”
“Are we prisoners?”
“Unsure. I doubt they are willing to let us go without some guarantee of our behavior, but they have not treated us badly, either.”
Yeah, it's called the Geneva Convention, Bumblebee beeped sarcastically from his conspicuous post across the room.
“Query: our fate as Autobot prisoners?” Soundwave directed to the small yellow bot.
A shrug. That's up to Optimus Prime, and he's on patrol right now.
“Very well.” Soundwave settled back, and soon fell back asleep.
Optimus arrived around noon, and beelined for where Shockwave kept his unceasing vigil.
“I understand that Soundwave was injured in…unspeakable ways, and you claim Megatron is to blame.”
“Correct. My claim is true. I can send you a data packet-”
Optimus raised a hand placatingly. “No, that won't be necessary. I am mainly concerned about your intentions going forward.”
“Personally, I wish to set up a base of operations somewhere, and continue my personal research. But I am unaware of Soundwave's plans at this time, and ultimately, I will likely go wherever he goes, and assist him.”
“Soundwave…does not know, either.” Soundwave's sudden return to the land of the conscious startled both of them. “Soundwave: hates Megatron. Soundwave: hates Autobots more. Autobots: eternal enemy, but demonstrably better allies than Megatron ever was. Soundwave…lost.” His fingers tightened around Shockwave's claws. He sat up suddenly, and ripped the Decepticon brand off his chest, leaving it, too, to slowly leak energon. “Soundwave: loyal only to Shockwave.”
Shockwave nodded, and tore his own brand off. “Shockwave: loyal only to Soundwave.” Error .
Optimus’s mouth was in a tight, thoughtful line. He spoke after a moment. “Will you interfere with Autobot goals?”
“Only when they clash with our personal interests. And I think we are more open to fair negotiations than Megatron, so I see no need for fighting in our future.”
“Very well. When Soundwave has recovered enough for Ratchet's liking, we will ground bridge you two to a place of your choosing.”
“Thank you, Prime. We are in your debt.” Error .
Soundwave was stoic and mute for the rest of their stay with the Autobots. Dull pain Shockwave could not parse drifted through their bond. It frustrated him. He sent what little he could, but it made no difference.
He asked Soundwave once, in the dead of night, when only Bumblebee was awake to watch them. Talk to me? I want to understand your pain and help you.
Soundwave: does not understand the pain himself. I am thinking. Shockwave: should sleep.
Shockwave didn't want to admit it, (error) but he was exhausted down to his struts. He relented, and settled next to Soundwave on his medical berth. It was too small for both of them, and Soundwave ended up curled up entirely on top of Shockwave, head tucked under the heavy duty energy generator in his chest. His feet dangled off the end of the berth at this angle, but he didn't seem to care, and they both quickly drifted off to sleep. Error .
Soundwave did not have any input on the ground bridge location, mutely following Shockwave's lead.
Their destination was an abandoned government facility in a natural park. Only the bravest of civilians would dare approach, and the government had forgotten about the location. It was perfect.
Well, it needed a lot of work before it was a laboratory worthy of the two most fearsome former-commanders of the Decepticon army. But it was a start.
The first night, Soundwave disappeared.
Amica, where were you? Error .
Flying, was the terse answer.
This happened for several more nights.
Amica, I wish I could fly with you. Error.
Soundwave did not answer.
The sixth night, Shockwave was waiting for him before he left. “Soundwave, I…dislike you being gone so much, with Megatron surely looking for us.”
“Soundwave's activities: none of your concern.” Soundwave sounded cold.
“Soundwave…” He stopped. He physically did not have the words for what he wanted to say. “Soundwave. I…feel your absences greatly, like a hole in my spark. All my processor can do is run endless scenarios and calculate your chances of return, and I do not have enough data for satisfactory answers.” Error.
Soundwave watched him silently. He struggled on. “Soundwave, I can't calculate what you want from me on my own. You are an enigma to me, as every mech is, but you are the only mech who has ever told me what you needed, expected from me. Please, if there is anything you need from me, you only have to ask. I would do anything within the limits of my frame for you.” Error!
Soundwave kept watching him.
Shockwave coughed and sharply in-vented: the result of an aborted sob that had bubbled up from his spark.
“Soundwave, what do you want from me?” Error.
“Soundwave: wants space.”
Shockwave slowly nodded, spark spinning until he thought he might be sick. “Do not unnecessarily risk your life. I will be here if you need me.” Error.
Soundwave inclined his head, and vanished into the night once more.
Errors were piling up in his processor faster than he could dismiss them, emotional requests he couldn't fulfill, he missed Soundwave, he was worried sick, he was afraid of losing him, I don't want him to die…I'm not a good amica, I failed-
He crashed, hard.
When he rebooted, Soundwave was still gone, and his processor ached.
He pushed the pain aside, and dedicated himself to his current project of making the base livable for Cybertronians. And if he knocked out doorways with more force than necessary, desperate to feel something, what did it matter? Megatron wasn’t here to criticize him, to tell him to be the perfect little empurata scientist. Error.
His spark ached, too. Over the long hours, the ache deepened, until he clutched his chest, and flailed towards the bond. Soundwave, are you hurt? Error.
Silence, but the kind that meant nothing was immediately pressing, and Soundwave was focusing.
Soundwave, come back. Something is wrong with me.
Silence.
Soundwave- and he groaned aloud as his spark spasmed, and darkness rushed up to meet him.
He came online to Soundwave cradling his head against his slender chest.
:.I am sorry,.: Soundwave commed as soon as he stirred.
“Soundwave, are you-”
:.I am fine. But I have been selfish..:
Shockwave wordlessly waited. Errors pinged him like slowly dripping water.
You were my only bright light aboard the Nemesis. Without that, without the cause…I assumed our bond was one of convenience. I should have known better than to try to break it. I only caused you pain.
Error. “Soundwave…do you remember what I told you, before we left the Nemesis?”
“I was delirious. My memory may be faulty.”
Shockwave sent him a data packet, with the word “conjunx” highlighted. He waited a moment.
“I don’t understand our bond. Barring a scientific miracle, I will never understand it. But illogically, I would choose you over Megatron, over my work, over my life itself.”
“Shockwave, I would never make you choose.”
“I would hypothesize that is the beauty of our bond, then.”
Soundwave’s head sank until his mask tinked against the rim of his optic. “I love you, Shockwave.”
Shockwave, as was to be expected, had no words, and Soundwave didn’t expect any. But Shockwave did have illogical actions, one of them being to wrap his arms tightly around Soundwave as if he might fly away again.
I cannot be present for you as you are for me, he lamented over the bond. Error.
Then I’ll just have to be here enough for both of us. Soundwave: superior. Soundwave teased.
On the twenty-third night, Soundwave watched silently as Shockwave pored over a datapad. He’d had to abandon all of his work aboard the Nemesis, and his scientific days were filled with the frustration of starting from scratch. Of course he remembered all the theories, but he’d lost his experiments and his new data.
A tickle of something he didn’t recognize came over the bond. “Soundwave,” he stated by way of question.
“Soundwave: wishes to interface.”
He straightened slowly, allowing his back struts to relax, and turned to face Soundwave. “I doubt the experience will be worth the desire. You are a passionate mech, and I am not.”
“If my interfacing life is set to be a string of disappointments, I would much rather yours be most recent in my processor than Megatron.”
“If you are sure, then.”
“Soundwave: never more sure of anything in his life.”
He nodded, and stumped over to their shared berthroom, Soundwave close behind.
He could not care less about interfacing, personally. But pleasing Soundwave gave him strings of errors which he carefully hoarded, and interfacing would be an excellent source of mysterious code strings and erratic spark activity.
He set about the task the same as with any task: carefully, methodically, and with meticulous note-taking. As wooden as his performance must be, Soundwave seemed to relish every moment of him, proving himself to be the “more passionate mech” a hundred times over.
He was inexhaustible. He trudged on until Soundwave was thumping his shoulder, vocalizer reduced to binary and static. Methodical interfacing became methodical cuddling, and he tucked away a truly staggering data packet deep within the most secure layers of his processor. Not just errors, but the entire event. He…cherished it. Error.
Soundwave was looking at him. “Was that satisfactory?” It was only logical, and polite, to ask.
“Exemplary, ” Soundwave breathed, and his spark jumped. Error.
“Merge with me,” Soundwave requested a moment later.
“Merges make my processor crash.” Not a denial, but a fact. Soundwave knew this about him.
“I won’t let you fall. Let me do this for you.”
He allowed his plating to separate.
Soundwave was beautiful, when sparklight was glittering off his features. Error.
Soundwave kept his promise, somehow. He drifted in a sea of chaos that threatened to crush him, and Soundwave held him in the eye of the storm, surrounding him with warmth and stability he did not need to try and fail to parse.
Soundwave gently placed him back in his spark chamber with only the usual errors, and he did not crash.
“Satisfactory?” Soundwave asked, half teasing.
“Exemplary,” he said flatly, and it was the truth. He knew Soundwave would interpret a thousand layers he did not intentionally place, but that was the beauty of Soundwave; his interpretations were rarely wrong. It did not matter if he didn’t understand humor, sincerity, or anything else - Soundwave understood, and treasured those imagined-not-imagined moments. And Shockwave had been cataloging his interpretations for eons, and chose his words deliberately to get the best ones. A happy Soundwave meant more errors in his illogical box of treasures. And he would treasure those errors forever, for he knew they meant something, and someday he would find out what.
Error.