this actually slaps so i'm crossposting it from ao3. it was for day 7 of soundwave week.
The war ends with a whisper.
Megatron dies at the servos of a young mech by the name of Hot Rod. Soundwave barely recognizes him from the Decepticons ranks. He’s a small thing, bright and burning, but Soundwave can see the fangs he hides behind bright smiles.
He poisons Megatron when Soundwave is away in Polihex.
No one suspects him. He’s well-liked, kind. The most anyone has to say about him is how sorry for him they are. Nyon had gone with a bang. Beside it, Vos and Praxus are the only atrocities that can match it. No one would expect Hot Rod to poison their leader when the Autobots led to the destruction of his home and Soundwave has no evidence to convict him.
Confrontation is a calculated decision.
Hot Rod stares up at him in careful defiance, chin tilted upward and jaw set. He is ready to march into a battle of his own making.
“Why did you kill Megatron?” Soundwave asks, without subtly. There are no cameras here and the both know it.
Hot Rod’s optics flare, “That’s a bold accusation, Soundwave.”
Soundwave tilts his helm to the side, analyzing. “Perhaps,” he admits, because it is even if it is the truth. “Why?” he repeats.
Hot Rod’s red, red optics flash blue for only a moment. Soundwave jerks back in surprise. It is not a confession and yet—
“Autobot,” Soundwave hisses.
Hot Rod smiles, bitter and sharp. His fangs glint in the darkness. But resignation colors his posture, his entire frame.
“Not really,” he says. “I just want to protect my friends.”
And Soundwave truly can’t think of who his friends would be because Hot Rod has been a Decepticon ever since Nyon. Or, close to, at least.
“Friends?” Soundwave asks carefully. Information is a precious resource that cannot be squandered. Soundwave knows it. He wonders if Hot Rod does too.
Soundwave tries to make himself seem not a threat while he speaks, but Hot Rod can see right through him. Soundwave can’t make assumptions but—he looks a lot like an Ops agent. It would make sense.
“We both have bots we’d do anything for, Soundwave,” Hot Rod speaks in measures. His voice is level and calm and infuriating. “Megatron was just the mech keeping my from protecting mine. If anything happened to Ravage…”
Hot Rod trails off. He doesn’t need to say much else, but he forgets that Megatron was a mech that Soundwave would die for. Except grief boroughs itself in his chest and he cannot find it in himself to hurt this mech who has lost so much.
“Was it worth it?” Soundwave asks tiredly.
It does not feel as if it was. Has Hot Rod thought through the repercussions? Does he know what this means for mechs like Soundwave? For mechs like Deadlock? Starscream? Himself? Prowl, even? Those who suffered at the servos of the Senate whether they realized it or not. Does Hot Rod understand what he has done?
“Yes,” Hot Rod says. He’s still so calm.
“Decepticon Hot Rod,” Soundwave says, taking one step closer and then another, “you are under arrest for the murder of the revolutionary and leader of the Decepticons, Megatron. If you resist, you will be terminated.”
Hot Rod doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even look surprised. He doesn’t step away nor does he fight. He is resigned. He knows his fate.
“You will be given a fair trial,” Soundwave continues, a script he’d learned from Thundercracker of all mechs. “It will be presented before Decepticon High Command.”
“They’ll kill me,” Hot Rod informs.
“I know,” Soundwave says and it tastes like ash.
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