That last, final push, literaally pressing every part that was, and wasn't, connected, did indeed drag Megatron over the edge along with Optimus, and as his frame twitched under charge and energy that would just have him pull something out of alignment if limbs weren't locked down, Megatron pressed the front of his helm against Optimus', hand clutching at his shoulder.

Coming back online a few moments later, both their chestplates closed somehow, he feels... drained, as well as buzzing with energy. Utterly, completely worn out, but at the same time as if he could get up on his feet and fight if needed.

Nothing, however, burst through either doors or windows, though the doors out into the corridor briefly open to let Elita and Magnus slip inside. They didn't't even pause, Elita merely grinning and tossing a wave, while Magnus nodded as they passed to go into Elita's room.

Megatron grimaced and huffed, then nodded in return, letting his helm clank back to rest against Optimus' right after.

This was his, now. (As he was Optimus'.)

While the only thing his optics could see this close up was Optimus' relaxed faceplates, Megatron didn't need to see the rest to know what it looked like and where every limb or bit of frame was.

Partly because they're still joined together, spike, valve and tentacles all, partly because that knowledge seemed burned into his processor. He shifted a bit, mostly to feel the lax snugness of spike and jacks moving, not to stir any charge.

He wasn't sure there was anything else to stir up at the moment.