Author's Note: HUGE spoilers for the finale of TFA! Do NOT read if you have not seen it!

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Fic was inspired by a song of the same title.

Gives You Hell

Megatron expected several things of Optimus Magnus’ newfound leadership: naivety, and uncanny optimism. The former, supposedly, would fade with age – and yet Megatron was not quite so certain. Optimus had always been rather… indomitably hopeful, which admittedly attributed to his eventual victory over the Decepticons.

While the hammer did not seem to be a living extension of Optimus as it had been for Ultra, there was something right about seeing the winged Autobot bearing the weapon. Ultra had been old when Megatron had been young, and although powerful beyond reckoning, and perhaps once the most frightful Autobot to the Decepticons (with the exception of Omega Supreme), Ultra could not last forever. While he clung to life in his pitiful, crippled shell, there was no denying that the longevity of his leadership had stagnated the planet far worse than Megatron could have ever expected.

Although, from the confines of a cell, it was difficult to piece together the whole picture – Megatron was no longer familiar with the planet he had once called home.

Megatron had been expecting Optimus Magnus to confront him, but this was almost too soon. Still injured, still weak and pitiful, Megatron stood at the edge of the cell. His arms were still bound, although with the extent of damage (which the Autobot did not seem particularly concerned with) prevented him from even considering an escape attempt.

Honestly, Megatron was finding it difficult to even contemplate the concept of freedom. He felt… utterly weary, old, broken. Optimus Magnus was perhaps not stronger than Megatron was, and perhaps not smarter – but he was somehow the victor. And Megatron could not deny that when Optimus beckoned him from the cell, Megatron fell into step after him without little more than a second thought.

Megatron had believed the Optimus Magnus would be a better leader to Ultra Magnus. Yet, as Megatron was brought to their destination, he found that Optimus was not better – he was worse, and possibly far more sadistic than Megatron had initially given him credit for.

“I’m afraid I don’t know anything about Decepticon burial rituals,” said Optimus.

Before them, a dull gray seeker was laid out on a larger table. Although Starscream probably had more clones than he had gigabytes, Megatron knew this was the genuine article – if only because this was Starscream’s way of having the last word. Starscream had had the death that had been robbed from Megatron, the demise that he now longed for.

“And you brought him to me?” asked Megatron, raising an optic ridge and glancing at the Magnus.

Optimus might have seemed like the sort of ‘bot that would be awkward when being spoken to in such a manner, yet Optimus did not even twitch. He simply gazed back at Megatron, standing tall and proud despite the fact that the Decepticon easily towered over him.

“You are the only one that I know of that knew Starscream, and–”

“Oh spare me your Autobot platitudes,” said Megatron coldly. “I was no closer to Starscream than I am to you. I am hardly going to be concerned with his burial.”

Optimus nodded slightly, gazing back at the seeker. “Just as well,” said Optimus. “I would like to know how the Decepticons are laid to rest. It’s important.”

That was an interesting statement. Megatron could not help but ask. “Why?”

The Magnus considered the question for a few moments before he finally spoke. “I’m curious.”

“So it is a selfish concern?” asked Megatron, his tone bordering on exasperation. “You could ask any of the other Decepticons – why ask me? Why show him to me personally? I would hope that you weren’t trying to garner some sort of a reaction from me – I can assure you that my feelings for Starscream are not fond ones.”

Optimus smirked a bit, which did nothing to improve Megatron’s mood. His optics narrowed as he stared at the cheeky little Autobot.

“What?” he hissed.

“I think it bothers you more than you’d like to believe,” said Optimus forwardly, and Megatron was genuinely taken aback by the Autobot’s candor. “In fact, I think it bothers you a lot.” The Autobot paused, regarding him fully. “But it would bother me to just do nothing with him. Despite everything he’s done.”

Optimus Magnus was a far more cunning sort of Autobot that Megatron would have anticipated. This was – in its way – a form of torture. And truthfully, as Megatron gazed down at the deadened face of his once-rival, his once-lover, he felt a kind of animalistic rage that blossomed from the very center of his spark. He quivered, and that much made Optimus smirk.

“He is worthless,” hissed Megatron. “He is unbefitting of a proper Decepticon burial.”

Optimus nodded. “So just dump him in the slag heap, then?” he asked. “Perhaps just launch him into space? Toss him onto some asteroid? Is that how Decepticons truly treat their fallen?”

The insult was almost too much to endure. Decepticons – despite everything Optimus seemed to believe – were not uncultured brutes! There were traditions, passed between them exclusively. It was something that was far too… personal to share with an Autobot. Yet, this was the first time than Megatron had encountered an Autobot who had been curious at all – the fact that Optimus had even drawn the conclusion that they had some sort of ritual was shocking.

Defeated again, Megatron’s mouth twisted into a scowl. “Decepticons do not have lavish funeral as Autobots would, no matter the status,” he said. “Nor do we cling to the remains. Most warships are equipped with a furnace. Fallen Decepticons are melted down, and used to forge new weapons.”

Megatron did not expect Optimus to think of the ritual as being anything but perverted, but the Autobot seemed oddly thoughtful.

“No death is meaningless,” said Optimus Magnus after a moment, and he smiled faintly. There was something melancholy in his optics – the Autobot was terribly expressive, and seemed terribly unapologetic about this fact. “Thank you.”

Megatron simply stared at the Autobot. Optimus offered no other words, and Megatron was led back to his cell. It was there he waited again, and thought of Starscream and his idiocy, his brashness, his lies – and he felt oddly bored, and oddly alone, knowing that those days were over.

Surely, wherever Starscream resided now, he was more than entertained that he still had the capacity to give Megatron hell.