The war did not pause for feelings.

Three cycles after their night on the ridge, Megatron led an assault on a supply convoy bound for Iacon. The skirmish was brief but brutal — Autobot reinforcements had arrived faster than anticipated, forcing the Decepticons into close-quarters combat.

Megatron’s blade tore through enemy ranks like a thunderstorm through metal, his war cries shaking the canyon walls.

But when he heard the sharp, unmistakable sound of Soundwave’s comm-link sputtering — the sound of damage — his focus shifted.

An Autobot sharpshooter had landed a precision shot to Soundwave’s side plating, denting the frame and sending him crashing against a support pillar.

Megatron saw blue.

He was there in seconds, sword snapping upward to intercept the next incoming shot. One brutal slash, and the sniper was in pieces. Another strike sent two more attackers reeling into the dirt.

“Status,” Megatron barked, stepping into Soundwave’s personal space without hesitation.

“Functionality: Intact,” Soundwave replied automatically. But his visor was flickering — a telltale sign of processor strain.

Megatron’s hand moved before he could think about it, bracing Soundwave by the arm and steadying him.

The contact was firm, grounding. Not command. Not control. Something else.

“Stay with me,” Megatron said, low — and for a moment, it sounded less like an order and more like a plea.

Soundwave’s processors noted the tone, the unexpected softness under the steel.

They fought side-by-side until the battle ended, Megatron’s focus never straying from his second-in-command for long.

Later, at Base

Soundwave sat in the medbay, allowing Knock Out to repair the cracked plating. He watched silently as Megatron entered without ceremony, ignoring the other mechs in the room.

“You are dismissed,” Megatron told Knock Out.

Knock Out glanced between them, smirking knowingly, but said nothing as he left.

The door sealed, and Megatron stepped closer. “You took a hit that could have been avoided.”

“Correction: You placed yourself in additional risk to prevent further damage,” Soundwave said evenly.

Megatron folded his arms, optics narrowing. “Would you rather I didn’t?”

Silence stretched between them.

Finally, Soundwave’s voice came, quieter. “Observation: Your actions are inconsistent with prior patterns.”

Megatron tilted his head slightly. “Inconsistent… or deliberate?”

Soundwave’s visor dimmed faintly, his systems caught between suspicion and something dangerously close to hope.

Megatron leaned forward slightly, his tone dropping. “You wanted proof. I’m not even trying, Soundwave… yet I find myself protecting you before I think to protect myself. Explain that to me.”

Soundwave held his gaze. “You are the only one who can.”

Megatron exhaled slowly through his vents, stepping back — not in rejection, but as if giving Soundwave the space to decide. “Then watch. See if I’m lying.”

For the first time in cycles, Soundwave’s visor brightened — just slightly — as if acknowledging the possibility that Megatron meant every word.

The mission was simple on paper.

Destroy the Autobot munitions depot in the Rust Cliffs before reinforcements could arrive.

Simple missions had a way of becoming hellfire.

The Decepticons advanced under a hail of plasma fire, Autobots entrenched behind fortifications etched into the jagged cliff walls. The air was thick with dust and smoke, every sound muffled except the roar of weapons and the shouts of commands.

Soundwave moved in calculated bursts, disabling turrets with precision shots and relaying positional data to the frontline. Megatron fought at the spear’s tip, his blade singing with every strike, pushing their forces forward inch by inch.

Then the Autobot's heavy cannons came online.

Soundwave’s scanners caught the charging energy signature a split-second before they fired. His systems flagged it as lethal. The beam tore through the battlefield, disintegrating everything in its path.

It was aimed straight at Soundwave.

He didn’t flinch — there wasn’t time. His processors calculated his chances and came up short.

But then Megatron was there.

The warlord moved faster than any recorded velocity in Soundwave’s databanks, shoving him hard out of the line of fire. The blast caught Megatron full in the side, sending him crashing into the cliff face with a deafening impact.

“Megatron!”

Soundwave was at his side instantly, scanning damage. The armor was blackened and warped, energon seeping from the joints. The wound was severe. Too severe for any leader to risk taking.

And Megatron had chosen it — consciously.

Through the static of his own pain, Megatron’s optics locked on Soundwave’s. “I told you,” he growled, voice rough but unwavering, “I protect what matters.”

Soundwave froze. This wasn’t instinct.

It wasn’t just battlefield coordination.

He had chosen.

Megatron pushed himself up with a snarl of defiance, leaning heavily but refusing to show weakness to the enemy. “We finish this,” he said. “Together.”

And they did.

After the Battle

The depot lay in ruins, the Autobot forces scattered. The Decepticons regrouped under the smoke-filled sky, but Soundwave lingered near the outskirts, standing just far enough from the others to avoid prying optics.

Megatron approached, moving slower than usual, favoring his injured side.

“You’re still processing,” Megatron said simply.

“Affirmative,” Soundwave replied.

“I didn’t do it for strategy,” Megatron continued. “Not for the war. Not to keep you obedient. I knew the risk. And I took it because losing you…” He hesitated — a rare, raw pause. “...is not acceptable to me.”

Soundwave’s visor dimmed and brightened in a slow pulse, a quiet sign of emotional overload.

“I operate best in combat scenarios,” Soundwave admitted after a moment. “This is… easier to process here.”

Megatron’s mouth curved in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Then I will prove it here, as many times as it takes.”

For a long moment, neither spoke. The battlefield smelled of scorched metal, the sky still heavy with the weight of war — and yet, something between them had shifted.

Soundwave still didn’t lower every wall.

But a crack had formed.

And Megatron, for the first time, knew he intended to break through it.