In These Hands

In Too Deep

The last whistle blew, signaling the few kliks the light-tram had before departure was initiated. And yet there Megatron stood with a conundrum to hastily repair in the form of a despairing medibot.

"Don't be like that, you knew it would come to this."

Ratchet only stood there, arms crossed and a frown dampening his facial features. "I did, but I still never agreed to it."

Megatron sighed, feeling his shoulder struts slouch ever so slightly. Just how many times were they going to have this argument? "This is an opportunity I just can't miss." He rose his hands, glad that Ratchet was conforming enough to let him touch him. "And it's not like I'm leaving for good. My home will always be here, with you."

Despite the affection and the gentle touch, Ratchet shrugged away. His frown only deepened. "Then why isn't it reason enough to stay?"

Megatron could feel it in the medibot's field. He knew Ratchet was having a hard time letting him go. But, he wanted him to know that he felt the same.

Reaching out his own field, he brushed against the medic's. "It's the reason I have to leave. There needs to be change, but there won't be if there aren't those willing to make it."

"You're not just going out to lead change, you're going out to-to fight against 'bots you've never had time to study or assess, you're going out to sit with tycoons and entrepanuers in their high towers surrounded by the elite and decrepit, you're going out to work for a 'bot I'll never be able to trust, and you're going out from this city's protection, out and away from those who can defend you and heal you should you . . ." Ratchet shook his helm, even as Megatron's hands rose and rubbed against his arms. Even when Megatron pulled him into his arms, the smaller mech continued to push away the turmoil he was feeling right then.

"I won't forget you," Megatron assured, his lips moving against his lover's helm. "You'll always be on my mind, my reason to do what I do." He pulled away only to lean in, to give Ratchet the light of his optics. "I know you don't like it, but the mechs will be watching over you in my absence, at a distance you're comfortable with. Promise me you'll take care of yourself while I'm away."

He heard Ratchet chortle, and watched him shake his helm. He was even able to witness a small smile form on those lip plates as the white 'bot looked up at him, his own red hand laying on his. "As long as you promise me the same."

Megatron nodded before he leaned in and gave Ratchet the final departing kiss he'd been reluctant to give since the morning arrived. Letting go of him and pulling away his field had been harder than he thought, and he knew that the other felt those pulling effects just the same. There was no face full of bright hope that he left behind, simply one etched in longing and despair, and because of that Megatron knew he had to find success in this journey, for all the ones he left behind.

Senator Ratbat had sent an entourage, one large enough to provide an impressable escort and protection for Megatron's travel. His messenger, Soundwave, had been quiet at the station, observing the gladiator and those he bid farewell to. Not that the 'bot had ever uttered a word to him before, but during those farewell exchanges, Megatron couldn't help but feel the deeper stares from unseen optics, ones that hadn't moved from him even as he took his seat and waited out the commute.

Luxuries were provided in high grade, an assortment of funds used for procuring battle-ready weaponry that even the Elite Guard would find interest in, and of course upgrades that many in Megatron's occupation would only find themselves fortunate enough to get once in their life. And, of course, a personal medibot whom Megatron was introduced to as Railtrack. However, one look and Megatron shrugged away from the pleasantries, especially the offered personnel.