I've Done It Again

It was night. For two powerful mechs like Optimus and Megatron, that shouldn't have been a problem, but Optimus wasn't quite so powerful anymore and Megatron didn't want to navigate the semi-familiar streets at night. They settled down in what seemed to be a shelter for newcomers waiting to be processed and housed. It wasn't too crowded, so Megatron and Optimus were able to find two berths that put space between them and the others.

Megatron spent the entire night being paranoid, as usual, and he managed to recharge with his optics online. It was something only a warrior with extreme skill like him could manage—or if his ego wasn't so big, he might be thinking the habit was caused by all those assassination attempts. Unlike him, Optimus fell asleep almost immediately.

The ex-prime genuinely looked exhausted and Megatron thought he was deep in recharge, so after a few hours of light rest, he let himself offline completely. His optics were still online, but he couldn't see anything. It was more of a precaution than anything. Nobody in their right minds would attack them if they thought Megatron was awake. Since he lost vigilance, Megatron felt partially responsible to what he woke up to in the morning.

The rest of the blame would be delegated to the culprit: Optimus.

"You piece of scrap," Megatron looked down at his frame. In order to escape the prison cell, Megatron had pushed himself through an electrical barrier and subsequently burnt a good chunk of his sensors. It wasn't a big deal, not as long as he retained mobility, but apparently Optimus disagreed. The joints between his armor were a testament to that fact, largely because they were oozing lotion. It didn't matter that he felt better, or that some of the warnings in his HUD had subsided, but that Optimus had violated his trust.

"OPTIMUS!" Megatron turned over and lunged across the space between their makeshift berths. His shout was enough to wake Optimus up, causing the mech to sit up in alarm just in time for Megatron to tackle him.

"What in Primus's name—?!" Optimus hit the floor on his stomach and flailed as Megatron sat on him, holding his arms behind his back and pulling them tight. "Megatron! Get... off!"

Megatron glared down at him. "Tell me, Optimus, when did you think it was a smart idea to tamper with my systems without my permission?"

"Almost immediately," Optimus snapped. "You should be grateful."

"Grateful that you inhibited my sensors or that you violated our truce?"

"Yes!" Optimus exclaimed, turning his helm sideways in a vain attempt to look backwards at the ex-warlord sitting on him. "You have too much pride to admit your sensors are fried and in desperate need of replacement! You are lucky that Knockout has enough experience with you to recognize when someone is foolishly pushing through their pain."

"I did not ask for your interference!"

Optimus scoffed. "I helped you and I do not regret it."

Megatron's optics flashed with anger and he twisted Optimus's arm further up his back, high enough that his servo could touch his neck cables. It resulted in a satisfying pop and a yell from the mech beneath him. "You may not regret it now, but rest assured that if you ever try something so brazen as this again, I will dislocate your helm instead of your arm!"

The weight on Optimus's back was lifted as Megatron stood up and left for the exit of the shelter. Optimus winced as he sat up, watching him leave with a frown. 

As he stormed out of the shelter, Megatron acknowledged that he was pissed.

Optimus should have expected Megatron to have only bad intentions and selfish desires. It was becoming increasingly obvious that Megatron didn't need Optimus's help finding his cannon, especially due to the fact that Optimus was physically incapable of doing anything noteworthy with the frame he had. So, the obvious choice for the ex-Prime to make would be to tread very carefully, and at least shut up and let Megatron help him without botching their fragile partnership.