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heliopauseentertainmentsFor fandomweekly challenge #250 - Quick Exit. Won 1st place.
Continuity: IDW1
Megatron awoke on the ground, back and head aching. His HUD flashed damage alerts. Thinner regions of armor, such as around his barrel were registering as crumpled or otherwise compromised. Impact injuries, but he couldn’t recall anything that would explain them.
Cautiously, he pushed himself to his feet, reflexively checking the function of his components along the way. Nothing was broken that wouldn’t be fixed with a hammer. No danger, from his present injuries at least.
He appeared to be in… a small, windowless room of unknown construction. The walls were completely smooth, devoid even of vents. There was a door on one side, the material not immediately identifiable. It had no obvious handle or mechanism for opening but its sharp outline in the naked wall implied that it was supposed to be a passageway of some sort. It reminded him some of Rodion’s jail, minus the energy bars.
Was this room some kind of alien cell?
Not that it mattered. With no mechanism for thermal exchange with the outside world, it would only be a matter of time before he suffocated under his own heat.
That meant time was running out to analyze the situation.
While he thought, Megatron put his hands on the “door,” pressing along its edges to try locating a weakness in the structure.
The last thing he remembered was cautioning Rodimus against meeting with the Parthian raider delegation on the outpost asteroid alone, as requested, and insisting that they instead go together—
Ah. Of course. Something must have gone wrong. Something always went wrong where Rodimus was concerned. Chaos made metal, that one.
Unfortunately, the “door” seemed to be solid under pressure, not shifting in a frame of some kind or pivoting on a hinge. It might as well have just been a decorative carving in the wall. He was also no closer to determining its make. It was neither metal nor stone.
Perhaps whatever it was would be brittle enough to shatter under a sharp force. The risk of breaking his hand was a small price to pay to avoid the certain death of overheating—That almost sounded like something Rodimus would have said.
Terrible. And yet it brought a smile to his face all the same.
But his thermal sensors were already reporting increased temperatures compared to when he had awoken. Time was short.
Just as he raised his arm, the wall behind him exploded, pelting his back with… something soft?
Baffled, he turned to look, his fist still awkwardly held up.
At his feet lay scattered bits of what looked like some sort of foam.
And, in the crumbling hole that had once been a wall, stood Rodimus, several small bundles of clearly stolen explosives cradled in his arms. Smoke wreathed him as it seeped out from the seams of his dented armor and his shoulders heaved, like he was winded.
“No time to explain.” The words came out in smoky huffs. “Just grab the fireworks and follow me. We’re getting out of here, big guy.”
Rodimus threw a bundle of explosives at him, clearly expecting Megatron to effortlessly catch them as he looked back the way he came, presumably for pursuers.
He was lucky that Megatron made the catch on reflex… given that, based on the sloshing sounds in the containers, these could have easily gone off on impact if someone were to fumble.
“What are—“
“What part of ‘no time to explain’ is hard, Megs?” He waved a beckoning arm. “Let’s go!”
Rodimus disappeared back through the hole as quickly as he had appeared.
“Now!”
Wisely or not, Megatron followed.
Continuity: IDW1
Rating: General
Relationships: Megatron & Rodimus
Characters: Rodimus & Megatron
Tags: Sextuple Drabble, Ambiguous Relationships, Not Beta Read
Summary: In which Megatron finds himself unexpectedly locked up.
Crossposting: AO3 | Tumblr | Fandomweekly entry
Fic under cut. See AO3 for complete notes.Megatron awoke on the ground, back and head aching. His HUD flashed damage alerts. Thinner regions of armor, such as around his barrel were registering as crumpled or otherwise compromised. Impact injuries, but he couldn’t recall anything that would explain them.
Cautiously, he pushed himself to his feet, reflexively checking the function of his components along the way. Nothing was broken that wouldn’t be fixed with a hammer. No danger, from his present injuries at least.
He appeared to be in… a small, windowless room of unknown construction. The walls were completely smooth, devoid even of vents. There was a door on one side, the material not immediately identifiable. It had no obvious handle or mechanism for opening but its sharp outline in the naked wall implied that it was supposed to be a passageway of some sort. It reminded him some of Rodion’s jail, minus the energy bars.
Was this room some kind of alien cell?
Not that it mattered. With no mechanism for thermal exchange with the outside world, it would only be a matter of time before he suffocated under his own heat.
That meant time was running out to analyze the situation.
While he thought, Megatron put his hands on the “door,” pressing along its edges to try locating a weakness in the structure.
The last thing he remembered was cautioning Rodimus against meeting with the Parthian raider delegation on the outpost asteroid alone, as requested, and insisting that they instead go together—
Ah. Of course. Something must have gone wrong. Something always went wrong where Rodimus was concerned. Chaos made metal, that one.
Unfortunately, the “door” seemed to be solid under pressure, not shifting in a frame of some kind or pivoting on a hinge. It might as well have just been a decorative carving in the wall. He was also no closer to determining its make. It was neither metal nor stone.
Perhaps whatever it was would be brittle enough to shatter under a sharp force. The risk of breaking his hand was a small price to pay to avoid the certain death of overheating—That almost sounded like something Rodimus would have said.
Terrible. And yet it brought a smile to his face all the same.
But his thermal sensors were already reporting increased temperatures compared to when he had awoken. Time was short.
Just as he raised his arm, the wall behind him exploded, pelting his back with… something soft?
Baffled, he turned to look, his fist still awkwardly held up.
At his feet lay scattered bits of what looked like some sort of foam.
And, in the crumbling hole that had once been a wall, stood Rodimus, several small bundles of clearly stolen explosives cradled in his arms. Smoke wreathed him as it seeped out from the seams of his dented armor and his shoulders heaved, like he was winded.
“No time to explain.” The words came out in smoky huffs. “Just grab the fireworks and follow me. We’re getting out of here, big guy.”
Rodimus threw a bundle of explosives at him, clearly expecting Megatron to effortlessly catch them as he looked back the way he came, presumably for pursuers.
He was lucky that Megatron made the catch on reflex… given that, based on the sloshing sounds in the containers, these could have easily gone off on impact if someone were to fumble.
“What are—“
“What part of ‘no time to explain’ is hard, Megs?” He waved a beckoning arm. “Let’s go!”
Rodimus disappeared back through the hole as quickly as he had appeared.
“Now!”
Wisely or not, Megatron followed.
