Death was a strange feeling. One might think it would have been a realm of non-feeling, but it was like being encased in a thick liquid, slowing movement and thought with a creeping lassitude. He likened it to that time Waspinator had crashed in to a huge old tree and came out absolutely covered in sap – it had taken ages to get him clean and the stuff seemed to stick for days, much to everyone's disgust.

Still, the absence of pain was a nice bonus. There had been the initial pain, of course – burning lava seeping in to one's joints and orifices was not precisely the most pleasant of feelings – but it had soon faded in to this odd state of not-being where one could float hazily through nothingness.

And then it seemed that he woke all at once, shaking and confused. He looked down and saw the ruined floor of the Darksyde several meters below him. It was strange, though – it almost seemed that the floor was fading in and out, and everything was cast in grey tones, as if all color had been leeched out of his surroundings. He raised a claw to scratch his helm when he quite suddenly realized he had no claws. Or helm. Or any other body part, for that matter.

"Well," Terrorsaur's voice said suddenly, "this sucks slag."

Scorponok couldn't help but agree, pulsing his confusion in short bursts of light that spun out from his spark – the only part of him that was left.

Terrorsaur was starting to get annoyed. His day had already gone to the Pit – dying wasn't exactly what he'd had planned, at least not until after he'd managed a proper takeover of the Predacons. He might have been able to handle it if he'd had some decent company. Idly, he wondered how Waspinator was doing, and who would be the one to pick up his pieces the next time he got himself blown up. Well, not that he really cared or anything. Waspinator was just someone he could rant at on occasion and fly with, and it wasn't like he'd miss him now since he was still alive and would likely stay that way for the foreseeable future, with his luck. But no, instead he got stuck with the stupid Megatron-loving scorpion. The same stupid Megatron-loving scorpion who was currently refusing to leave the Darksyde, despite the fact that the living Predacons had long since vacated the area on some mission or other.

"I'm not ready to go," Scorponok said. "The Maximals are still out there."

"We're dead, in case you haven't noticed." Terrorsaur retorted. "Permanently off-lined. End of the road! The Maximals aren't our problem anymore."

"But Megatron will need me…"

"Megatron," Terrorsaur said mockingly, "could care less, and you really should get over your stupid sycophantic crush."

"It's called loyalty." Scorponok said tightly. "Maybe you should try it some time."

"We're Predacons. We don't do loyal."

"Maybe that's why the Maximals are in power," Scorponok said slowly. "Maybe if Megatron had more loyal troops the Predacons would have won the war a long time ago."

Terrorsaur paused for a long moment. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard." He finally said in disgust. "Dying really scrambled your processors, didn't it? More than usual, even."

Scorponok somehow managed the semblance of a shrug in a brief flicker of his spark light. "Just a thought," he muttered. "Doesn't really matter now, anyways. Everyone left is either damaged or conniving."

"Like proper Predacons should be," Terrorsaur said with a sniff. "Well, the conniving part at least. Are you coming or what?"

Scorponok stilled; his spark light muting in blank surprise. "Huh?"

"Well," Terrorsaur said ungraciously, "if we're going to be stuck together for all eternity, we might as well go somewhere interesting."

"But, Megatron…"

"Megatron can slag himself on his own," Terrorsaur said dismissively. "Let's go find Primal. He ought to be around here somewhere."

"Why?"

"So we can make his afterlife the Pit, of course."

Scorponok considered that carefully. "Megatron would like that," he said.

"Yeah, sure. So let's go!"

As Terrorsaur took off, Scorponok paused to give the living plane one final look. "I'll be waiting for you, Megatron," he promised quietly. "Just…don't be too quick about joining me." With one last flicker of brightness, Scorponok turned and followed his fellow spark out in to the mists.

A/N: AND THEN DANTE'S PRAYER STARTS PLAYING. Seriously, iTunes, sometimes I wonder about you and your strangely appropriate music cropping up, particularly when the playlist time is listed in days rather than hours.
Predacons, as I think I've stated before, tend to give me trouble when writing, so this was definitely a challenge. Hopefully I didn't mangle either character too badly. This was written for graycalls on LJ for a request from a drabble challenge.