Title: Once More

Author: Eiseedoesit

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I owe nothing related to Transformers. It all belongs to Hasbro.

Summary: The star saber pierced his spark. The cybermatter healed him. Now Megatronus awakes to a world reborn, though not the way he envisioned. Post-Deadlock. Megatron/Optimus.

A/N: Birthday ficlet for Kem. May the rest of us be at least half as awesome, creative, and generous as you (insert epic GLOMP here) ^_^

Optimus' spark felt like it was being ripped from the inside out.

He watched, in horror and pain as the Star Saber sliced through Megatron's chassis, taking out the light from the warlord's eyes.

It should have been him. It should have been his servos holding that sword, his face before Megatron as the silver mech died, the last words clear on his audios. But he knew he could not do it. And maybe Bumblebee, after all the tireless centuries, understood that.

The warlord staggered, raising the Dark Star Saber to strike down at Bumblebee. His body flinched, and the cruel weapon slipped from his weakened hold. The dark sword fell fast into space, far below them and beyond all reach.

He was frozen, as if trapped in stasis, spark and mind in turmoil as Megatron collapsed to his knees. The silver mech's red optics, fierce and bloody, were ever defiant. Megatron's claws reached out, grabbing the dangerous blade of the Saber. The silver servos slid painfully, energon seeping through as the blade sliced metal.

Bumblebee was inpatient. He lunged forward, hoping to smash the rest of the saber through the warlord.

But the force wasn't enough. And no one anticipated Megatron's last bout of rage and strength.

The warlord spun his body around, trying to throw the scout into the void of space. Bumblebee lunged forward and twisted the sword further up into Megatron's spark. The silver mech's optics flashed, the red lights flickering madly. Dark, corrupted energon gushed from the wound, running in thick ribbons down the scout's arms.

"Bumblebee!"

Both scout and warlord were falling, Megatron's heavier weight collapsing over Bumblebee. The Autobot's grip on the sword slipped. Megatron's body twisted and fell forward.

"Optimus. No!"

The Prime dashed forward, servos stretched out, spark flaring to burst. But he was too late.

The pool of cybermatter flashed a furious, brilliant blue as it engulfed the massive silver frame into its depths.

"Lord Megatron!" Starscream was there, somewhere above, screaming and cursing at them all. And somehow, Optimus found himself screaming too. Screaming and running towards that mass of cyber matter where Megatron disappeared.

Bumblebee dropped the Star Saber and fell right beside it, the exhaustion overwhelming him.

The remaining Decepticons retreated, terrified and helpless by the loss of their leader. Starscream continued to scream, vowing revenge, fighting Shockwave's attempts to pull him back.

The Autobots fled to Bumblebee's side, the shock of what he did still being registered in both processor and spark.

It was finished. Over.

After countless battles and great loss, they finally won.

Bumblebee shrugged off Smokescreen's overly excited embrace as the others gathered around them. Ratchet appeared torn between crying and laughing, so he did a little of both. Arcee and Smokescreen leaned against each other, their face plates pale and weary from battle. Their optics however, were the brightest Bumblebee had ever seen them.

"Optimus?" Ratchet called out, "Optimus?"

"Primus, he's in the cyber matter!" Arcee ran towards the edge, "Optimus, what are you doing? Get out of there."

Optimus' form sunk deeper into the shimmering pool, his helm and shoulders bursting through the surface every few seconds as if trying to drag something out.

"Optimus—your armor," Arcee shouted, "It's—"

"By the All-Spark," Ratchet stared, disbelief making his voice drop as fast as his spark, "He's reverting to his old form."

"We got to get him out of there,"

Ratchet grabbed Smokescreen's arm before the younger mech carelessly dove in.

"We don't know what else that Cyber matter can do!"

"It healed Bee,"

"It's also destroying Optimus." Ratchet stressed, "Turning him back to a previous state."

"Ratchet, he's coming back this way," Arcee shouted over the others, "Help me."

The medic ran his way to the edge, working with Arcee to pull Optimus' frame up from the matter. It was a lot lighter than it should have been. It might have been the residue from the matter, but the color of his armor seemed to change too. It was more vibrant, pristine, as if war had never touched him.

"Something's there," Ratchet said, grunting as he hauled Optimus far enough to see that the Prime was holding onto something, "Right there, his servo's got it."

"Better get that Saber ready Bee," Smokescreen's weapons loaded, aimed, and locked towards the pool, "If that stuff brought you back I don't wanna know what it did to the old bucket head."

"Just shut up and cover me," Bumblebee snapped, bringing up the Saber to strike should Megatron emerge revived. Smokescreen wasn't sure if it was the new voice, or the perfectly restored armor, but he couldn't pry his optics away from Bumblebee for too long. Even if the scout was yelling at him.

"Primus," Ratchet immediately turned the Prime's helm to the side once they pulled him safely out, "Optimus? Can you hear me?"

"Megatron—" Optimus coughed, apparently unaware of his own downgrade, "He—"

"No worries Prime. We got this," Smokescreen said eagerly, "And we'll make sure he falls the right way this time."

"Optimus, your armor—"

The Prime looked down, truly seeing himself with clarity since he emerged from the cybermatter. The bulky armor was melting painlessly away, dissolving in glistening streams back into the pool. His entire body felt frail, unused to the sudden shift in weight and circuitry.

"How can this be?" Optimus asked, looking at Ratchet for answers the medic couldn't begin to provide.

"Primus knows," Ratchet said, "But you're alive. We're all alive."

"One too many," Smokescreen said, pointing at the billowing matter, "But not for long."

Arcee aimed at the disturbance by the edge of the pool. Bumblebee's grip on the Saber was unyielding this time and he raised the sword high.

"Hold your weapons," Optimus said weakly. His systems shook as he tried to stand. With trembling servos he guided Bumblebee to lower the Saber harmlessly towards the ground.

"But Optimus—"

"Hold your weapons,"

They all tensed, their systems reeling into fight response when a massive form began to break through the surface. It was silver, jagged, and by the strokes upon the surface, immensely powerful.

A silver claw burst from the life-giving matter. It latched onto the edge.

"Uh, Prime," Smokescreen said nervously, "You sure about this?"

"We need him to fall the right way as you said, Smokescreen." Optimus closed his optics and nodded, his faceplates solemn. He opened his servo and turned to Bumbleebee, "And this time, his final demise shall be by my doing."

Bumblebee's optics blinked, wide and uncertain. He wordlessly obeyed, giving the hilt of the Saber back to its rightful owner.

"Frag it, he's almost up. Get ready," Arcee warned. But even with all her resolve she couldn't prevent her own body from flinching as Megatron pulled himself out.

The heavy clicks of weapons locking and charging filled the audios of the Prime.

The jagged form wretched on all fours, struggling to stand and failing. Cybermatter rolled away from his body, bright, perfect, and shining like refined silver. A clawed servo pressed against its immense chassis, not from pain, but from relief, surprise even. The helm was different though, it was smoother, more round, less war-like and more—

Optimus shook his helm.

No.

He couldn't allow himself to think that way.

The Prime brought the Star Saber before him, ready to strike down and split Megatron's helm in half.

"Do it," He heard Ratchet say, "Finish it. Give yourself peace."

Optimus' digits curled tightly around the Saber.

"Megatron," The Prime raised the Saber up, "Be forever gone!"

He swung down.

The silver mech beneath him roared, leapt up, and grabbed the hilt of the sword with so much force Optimus nearly fell back. The Autobots held their fire, afraid of striking their Prime.

"You have hurt us for the last time," Optimus' words seethed, pouring his frustrations and pain out, "I will not live with this another second longer!"

His silver claws squeezed over his own so painfully, crushing the wires within his digits close to the point of breaking.

"O—Orion,"

Optimus felt a motion of confusion and fear, and terrible familiarity wash over his spark. That voice…so deep, smooth, and strong. No. Never. That voice died long ago. Along with all the promises that it gave him. Optimus shook his helm. He pushed forward, his optics blazing, systems firing and straining under his rage.

"Where is Orion?"

The Prime refused to answer. It must be a trick. Another deception. It had to be—

And then the silver mech's optics opened and locked with his. The sick, blood-red optics that haunted him for countless centuries were no more. Instead, the optics that greeted him were of the deepest blue, as rich and vibrant as the energon flowing through him.

Optimus stepped back, sword helplessly at his side. His faceplates were pale, optics wide in grief and disbelief.

The silver mech stood to his full height. His body was fuller now, robust, solid, powerful shoulder blades raising and falling with heavy intakes. His face was clear, expressive, the scars of war erased.

"What is this place?" The mech demanded, scanning the strange bots before him, optics narrowed in suspicion, "The Council has sent you all to kill me. Is that their plan? I promised to clean the streets of Iacon in their energon, and if Orion Pax is not returned to me I will add you all to that mix!"

"Who are you?" Optimus said. He motioned for his soldiers to remain at bay. His spark thumped wildly at the sound of that voice, how it said his former name…

The silver mech growled, staring at Optimus in confusion as he kept a clawed servo over his spark. It was only then that Optimus realized he'd been doing the same thing as well.

It wasn't painful or soothing. It was something else entirely. A sort of deep dread and frail hope blending as one. And the result was turmoil.

The silver mech stepped forward, helm held high.

"I am called Megatronus of Kaon,"

"Optimus!" Bumblebee cried out as the Saber fell from the Prime's hold.

The Prime's vision blurred.

"I won't ask for your names. It doesn't matter," Megatronus said, standing to his full height in a show of strength and power. "Now where is Orion?

Optimus felt his spark ache with a great, unbendable force that pulled him forward. Megatronus' blue optics blazed brilliantly, ever defiant.

"Where did the Council hide my mate?"

TBC

A/N: Just part 1 of 2. Please review, for it lets me know why you read the things that I write! ^_^