Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Optimus sat in his little apartment on the outskirts of Iacon. He’d been back on Cybertron for a few stellar cycles now following his time on Earth. The loss of Prowl was still fresh in his mind, and so much else felt like a strange, bad dream. Cybertron hadn’t changed much since his return, save for Sentinel being the stand-in while Ultra Magnus’ survival was still in question. The Decepticons he and his team captured had been imprisoned in Trypticon for the time being, but the Council kept dragging out any trial or sentencing. It couldn’t be that hard of a decision to make, right? On top of this, random bots have started coming up to him on the street, congratulating and thanking him for capturing those warframes. It still felt weird not being talked down to and constantly reminded of his past failures. He wondered if maybe there was-

A reminder alarm snapped Optimus out of his thoughts. He almost forgot the council meeting. He kind of wished he had. These were always less of a meeting and more of him sitting for three hours in a room of stuffy politicians and scientists while Sentinel gloated and talked himself up, accomplishing nothing. They should be discussing what to do with the captured Decepticons. They should be figuring out how to bolster their defenses along the edge of Autobot space. The Decepticons wouldn’t sit around twiddling their thumbs, they’d be planning a way to get back their leader, or Primus forbid, looking to reignite the war between their factions. The Cons had been getting more aggressive lately. He let out a sigh and grabbed his notepad before heading out.

~~~~~~

Sentinel stood in a cramped elevator heading far, far down. He knew he could excuse his current actions as ‘just another interrogation’ should anyone ask, but he was getting desperate. He knew in the eyes of the public he was rapidly losing what little favor he had. First, Optimus and his little repair crew manage to defeat and capture Megatron and his chief bots, and now there were new rumors of Decepticon activity to put more cracks in an already fragile situation. Optimus Prime. How could he, an academy washout with no prospects, best Megatron? The audacity of him to upstage Sentinel. The citizens of Cybertron were hailing the Prime as some People’s Hero type figure, the Savior and Protector of Cybertron. All titles Sentinel thought he should have. After all, he was next in line to be Magnus, right? Isn’t it what he deserved?

The elevator came to a grinding, jerky halt. The door opened, and Sentinel stepped out into a dark, dingy hall, lit only by the faint lights from inside the prison cells. He was on the bottom floor of Trypticon Prison, home to the worst criminals known to Cybertron, though the basement hasn’t been used in centuries. The hall and cells were dirty from years of disuse, covered in rust, pipes leaking, and the occasional cyber-rat scurrying about. Security cameras were placed in front of every cell, connected to the prison’s main control room. The only ways out of this place were the elevator he had arrived in and a giant prisoner transport elevator. This was the most secure area of the most secure prison in the Cybertronian Commonwealth.

As he walked forward, Sentinel looked around at the prisoners, glowering in disgust at Prime’s little haul. He kept moving, passing by Lugnut, Blitzwing, Shockwave, and all those bizarre Starscream clones before reaching his ultimate destination.

He stood before a large, solid door at the end of the hall. It was covered in various locks and levers with no way to see in or out. To the right was a rather dinky input console. Sentinel punched in a few numbers, and the locks started moving with a teeth-grinding screech. The door groaned as it opened slightly, leaving a tiny sliver for a dim, sickly yellow light to escape in a thin line across the floor. Sentinel pulled the door open with some difficulty and stepped into the small room behind it.

Imprisoned in this cell was none other than Megatron, nearly the size of the cell. The warlord’s mouth was gagged, and his hands and legs were locked in stasis cuffs chained to the wall and floor respectively. Because of his size, he was forced to perpetually kneel in a rather uncomfortable position. Coupled with his large frame size in an already small room, for anyone else this torturous state could be a tactic to effectively break most prisoners. But Megatron wasn’t most prisoners.

Sentinel stood before Megatron, arms crossed, cocky as ever. Megatron glared back. Primus, he hated this posturing clown.

“Hmph,” Sentinel sneered, “Nice to see you too.”

Megatron huffed. In a blink, Sentinel punched him across the faceplate. It hurt more than Megatron would let on.

Sentinel reached up and removed the mouthguard, saying with an irritated tone, “Now are you gonna talk today, or just waste my time again?”

Megatron scowled and let out a small growl, much to Sentinel’s annoyance. Another hit was in order.

“Fine! Fine, act like a petulant Newspark all you want. You’ll talk one of these days”

“Do pardon my attitude, Sentinel Magnus. My lack of visitors has made me rather unpracticed in the ways of social grace.”

Those two words were saturated with venom. Megatron absolutely despised this pompous bot. Were he not restrained, Megatron probably would have strangled him by now. Sentinel had been paying him frequent visits hoping to get some kind, any kind, of information out of him. Sentinel was careful not to talk about personal matters, but sometimes if he got too into his rants, probably regarding Optimus or his own public standing, he would let bits of personal and political information slip. By staying silent, Megatroncould get Sentinel to talk more and more, revealing things he normally might not have. Megatron could tell Sentinel was growing desperate. He was being effortlessly upstaged by that damned Optimus Prime and was frantically grabbing for any shreds of success he could at this point. Megatron found this rather amusing. And potentially useful.

Sentinel continued pouting and complaining, “-and the council still hasn't decided what to do with you! And that damn Optimus kee-”

Oh, this was too perfect.

“Are you not the acting Magnus? Could you not veto the council’s decisions and best the Prime with one wave of your hand?”

“Of course I’m Magnus, you slagging bastard! You don’t think I’ve considered that?! But oh, if I dared do anything to their darling Optimus, the citizens would riot! Do you have ANY IDEA how much that would damage my public image?!” Sentinel shouted, irritated at being interrupted. His vents were in overdrive, frame practically glowing from the heat.

Megatron wasn’t stupid, he knew the angrier Sentinel got, the more he’d spill. The more he felt inferior to Optimus, the more likely he was to do something foolish.

“Oh, I’m certain any direct attack on their precious Prime would not be taken lightly. It’s quite a predicament you’re in, trying to come out on top against the bot who defeated me. This plan would require a more cunning bot than you.”

“How dare you! ‘More cunning,’ HA! I DARE you to find someone more cunning than me!” Sentinel screamed, growing closer and closer to Megatron's face.

Sentinel was getting angrier.

This was too easy.

“I was merely going to suggest a televised trial. That pesky Prime may have captured me, but you could publicly sentence me, broadcast to all of Cybertron,” Megatron said, smirking. “Convicting the leader of the Decepticons of all his crimes would certainly raise the public’s perception of you.”

Sentinel stepped back, his face contorted in anger, “You think I’m gonna take advice from you? Do you really think I’d be dumb enough to let you out in public?! How would that make me look to people?!”

He shoved the gag he was holding back over Megatron’s mouth, huffed, and stormed back out into the hall, the door locking behind him. Despite the brevity of today’s ‘conversation,’ Megatron knew he had planted a seed to feed Sentinel’s ego. He just had to be patient a little longer.

As Sentinel stomped back down the hall, he grumbled to himself, “Who does he think he is? Trying to order me around, giving me, the Magnus, advice!” But maybe… maybe he was onto something with that public trial. Sentinel smirked as he stepped into the elevator. The gears were turning in his mind.

~~~~~~

Optimus hated council meetings. They were dry and pointless. All the senators did was sit and argue for hours, rarely accomplishing anything. In the months since he’d been back from Earth, he had been forced to sit in on these meetings because he was ‘intimately acquainted’ with the Decepticons and could provide valuable insight. The Council really could have worded that better, Optimus thought. Truthfully, he suspected the real reason they wanted him at these meetings was to keep a closer eye on him.

“Next order of business regards the Decepticon prisoners,” said Cliffjumper. He’d been promoted to Head of Security after the…incident with Shockwave. “We have yet to reach a decision on what to do with them.”

Optimus had heard this same sentiment at nearly every meeting. The council would sit and debate for a bit before moving on to some tax code.

Before anyone could say a word, Sentinel stood up, “I propose a live trial broadcast across Cybertron.”

The room was dead silent. All optics were on Sentinel.

Optimus was paying attention now.

“With all due respect, Sentinel Magnus, your proposition is unwise,” replied Senator Botanica, finally breaking the stunned silence with her soft voice.

“Decepticons may be monitoring Autobot telecommunications. It would be a poor decision to put their leader on public display, it would pose a serious security risk,” asserted Alpha Trion.

Sentinel scoffed, “Let them watch! Their almighty leader being publicly humiliated ought to send them a message! Besides, my ratings have been plummeting, an open declaration of Megatron’s guilt is just what I need to-”

“I’ve heard enough, Sentinel. We will not condone this preposterous idea of yours. A petty, ego-stroking ploy is not worth the safety of Cybertron’s citizens,” rebutted Alpha Trion, “All against, raise your-”

“It’s Sentinel Magnus to you! I am the highest seat of government on this planet, what I say goes!”

“Sentinel, this is a gross overstepping of your bounds.”

“Statistically speaking, the entertainment factor of a live trial would sufficiently increase Sentinel Magnus’s public ratings, as it would the rest of ours,” Perceptor chimed in, his nasally, monotone voice grating on the Magnus’ audio receptors, “However, when weighed against the probability of any number of events going awry, the risk is mathematically not-”

“I AM IN CHARGE! I SAY WHAT HAPPENS TO THOSE PRISONERS!”

“You’re reaching far beyond your station Sentinel. Even if you have the power to veto a near-unanimous decision, it’s a bad look to do so.” Optimus knew Sentinel would be mad at his comment. If looks could kill, Optimus would have been disintegrated where he stood.

Alpha Trion tried to reason in vain, “Sentinel, this behavior is unacc-”

“MY DECISION IS FINAL!” shouted the Magnus, visibly venting.

Optimus had never seen Sentinel this angry. The room was by no means cold, but steam was visibly rising off his frame. Sentinel whipped his head around at everyone present, staring daggers into each one of them.

“This meeting is dismissed.”

~~~~~~

I suppose I should be careful what I wish for, thought Optimus. He’d wanted something to happen in one of these council meetings, but not this. A live trial? What was Sentinel thinking? Perceptor was right, any number of things could go wrong with this. The Decepticons weren’t stupid. They were some of the most psychotically determined bots he’d ever had the displeasure of knowing. There was little that could deter a Con with their mind set on a goal.

Optimus walked down a busy street teeming with bots on their way to clubs and bars, all so blissfully unaware of the announcement they’d be hearing in the coming days. How had things become so bizarre? Just a few months ago, he’d been on Earth, fighting Decepticons. Before that, he’d been kicked out of the Academy and put on a thankless space bridge repair detail. And before that-

Optimus caught himself. He didn’t want to think about that right now. He was suddenly painfully aware of every bot on the street, every sound, every bright flashing light. Optimus picked up his pace, wanting to get home as quickly as possible. The crowds would be too much for him tonight.

Chapter Text

The week following the explosive council meeting had been an unpleasant one since Sentinel’s public announcement to proceed with the trial. Optimus guessed it would be a big showy affair, meant to prop up Sentinel as a strong, competent Magnus. Reactions to the announcement were, unfortunately, what Prime had expected. Despite lifelong propaganda campaigns about how terrifying and brutal the Decepticons were, the average, everyday bot found some novelty or thrill in seeing the real-life Megatron. Optimus wanted to skip the trial altogether. He wasn’t obligated to attend since he wasn’t officially on the Council, but of course, he wouldn’t be so lucky. Sentinel had personally requested - no, demanded - Optimus testify at this sham of a legal proceeding. He just hoped it would all be over soon.

~~~~~~

The morning of the trial went about as Optimus had expected. It started with an over-the-top parade with Sentinel at the helm, followed by dozens of bands, performers, news crews, anything nameable, he had it. The crowds gathered along the parade route were immense, as if the whole planet had turned out to watch in person. Everyone wanted an up close and personal look at the parade’s centerpiece: Megatron, stasis cuffed, chained, gagged, and forced to kneel on a platform as the procession moved towards the stadium that would host this show.

Optimus walked to the stadium alone. As he made his way behind the crowd, he couldn’t help but look at Megatron.

He knew the warlord was exceptionally prideful. Parading him like a trophy was Sentinel’s idea of breaking his spirit; however, to Optimus, it looked to be having the opposite effect. Immobilized, Megatron could only move his optics to look around. The rage in them was palpable, but the spectators were too busy gawking to really notice. Optimus almost felt bad for the mech. Being shown off like some prized trinket would take its toll on anyone. As the platform came closer, he was starkly reminded of his enemy’s stature. Even in captivity and humiliation, he towered over the surrounding Autobots.

Optimus found himself lost in thought again when Megatron caught his stare. He felt as if his very spark was being ground into a fine powder. Breaking eye contact, Optimus picked up his pace, feeling Megatron’s optics burning holes into his back plating as he got further and further away.

~~~~~~

The stadium was just as crowded as the streets. Bots were packed bumper to bumper in the stands and entryways, all clamoring to get a good view, practically pouring out onto the field.

A set of risers were set high behind a podium, towering above a small platform set in front. Optimus was directed towards his seat with the other witnesses. A small yellow bot excitedly waved him over.

“Over here, Bossbot!” Bumblebee was practically falling out of the witness stand. The sight of him made Optimus smile a bit.

“Sit down, kid. I don’t need you cracking your headplate again," Ratchet scolded.

“Hehey Prime, long time no see! How’s politics been treating you?” Bulkhead - the big green mech was always welcome company.

“It’s great to see you guys again! When I heard you’d all be coming back, it made me think today might be bearable. It’s the only thing I was looking forward to about this trial,” Prime joked. He meant it though. They had all been pulled their separate ways after returning to Cybertron, and all four hadn’t been able to meet. Ratchet had gone and opened a small clinic so he had his hands full, Bumblebee had been allowed to rejoin the Academy, and Bulkhead had been off-world for months, helping improve space bridge operations.

“Hey, after we’re done here, let’s catch up over drinks! How does that sound? Megatron’s obviously guilty, this’ll be over in twenty minutes easy.”

Bumblebee's enthusiasm was infectious. Optimus knew this would drag on about as much as the Council meetings, but drinks and catching up with his friends were something to look forward to.

The Senators took their seats in the risers as Sentinel walked towards his podium to great fanfare. Optimus could see Cliffjumper rolling his optics at this. Alpha Trion almost seemed to be in pain, pinching the bridge of his nose instead of watching the gaudy display.

“Thank you, thank you, citizens of Cybertron, for joining me on this most historic of days!” Sentinel cheesed to the camera drones floating around, swatting a couple that got too close. “Today, I, your beloved Sentinel Magnus, will be presiding over the trial of the cruelest Decepticon to ever step foot on the surface of Cybertron!”

With a deafening roar from the crowd, Megatron was brought out. He was unceremoniously thrown onto the small stage at the foot of the podium in the same kneeling position as during the parade.

“How’s he supposed to defend himself if his mouth is covered?” The words got out before Prime’s processor realized it had even thought them.

“There’s nothing for him to defend. You know as well as any bot with half a neural cluster they’re not gonna let ‘im so much as open his mouth,” grumbled Ratchet. Optimus didn’t realize he’d been thinking out loud. What was he saying? Of course Megatron had no defense, he hadn’t done a thing right in living memory! Still, though, it felt wrong.

Sentinel pulled out a datapad and began reading, “Megatron of Kaon, you stand accused of crimes including but not limited to: inciting a war, a death toll in the millions, allowing several incursions into Autobot space, and other crimes too numerous to recount. Rattletrap, how does your client plead?”

“Not guilty, Your Honor!” A sketchy-looking brown mech was seated opposite Optimus and his friends, speaking in what Optimus had learned on Earth was a ‘Brooklyn accent.’ Rattletrap must be Megatron’s attorney, though he looked more like some back-alley Syk dealer than a legal aide. Who hired this guy?

“What do you mean ‘Not Guilty?!’ I ju-”

“If you’ll remember, Your Honor, at the end of the Great War, the Decepticons were granted amnesty in return for exile. And so far, my client has abided by this agreement, rendering your list inadmissible”

“Wh- H- That’s stupid! Who would let Decepticons off the hook like that?!”

Alpha Trion stood, “I am responsible for their pardon. At the time, it was our best option for ending the war and preventing another. I must agree with the Defense.”

Sentinel stood shocked for a moment while the stadium buzzed with surprised whispers. Optimus couldn’t believe what he just heard. This shady, barely-a-lawyer had found such an easily exploitable loophole. Had Sentinel not consulted a single historian or legal adviser before setting up this trial? Oh, of course he hadn’t, it’s Sentinel! Optimus suddenly remembered what Perceptor had said at the last Council meeting and got a sinking feeling in his tanks.

“Well then…I uh...I’ll call on my first witness, uh….” Sentinel leaned in towards the witness stand and whispered to the best of his abilities, “Um, what’s the yellow one called again?”

Optimus sighed, “Bumblebee.”

“Bumblebee!” Sentinel’s displeasure could be felt through his feigned enthusiasm.

Rattletrap began his questioning, “Mr. Bee. Is it true that you've had conflicts with Megatron in the past?”

“Uh, yeah. That’s kinda why we’re here.”

“And Mr. Bee, where did these conflicts happen?”

“Well, our first time meeting Buckethead, we were out repairing a space bridge near Talos IV. Pretty much everything else happened on or above Earth.”

“And where is this ‘Oith’ you speak of?”

“Oh uh…I’m not sure. We’ve only really used space bridges to travel between here and there.”

Rattletrap snapped his fingers, and a very tired-looking courtroom assistant wheeled out a map of Autobot space. This was too oddly specific for Rattletrap to not be up to something.

“Now, Mr. Bee, can you point on this map to where this ‘Oith’ of yours is?”

“It’s right-...uuhmm…it’s not on here?”

“Well then, you see, Your Honor,” Rattletrap smugly turned to face the Judge, “any crimes my client may have committed were on a planet outside Autobot jurisdiction. Therefore, in the case of post-war crimes, any charges levied against him by the Cybertronian government would again be rendered invalid.”

Sentinel stood stunned, mouth flapping like a fish gasping for air, frantically turning between his convict and the Council, “Can he- He can’t do that!”

For most of this trial, Megatron had been looking straight ahead of him and slightly down at the ground from the angle he was paralyzed in. Optimus caught himself staring again. He couldn’t help it. He’d only ever really seen Megatron behind the cannon he pointed at the Prime during every one of their encounters, so seeing him sit, unmoving and silent, was indeed a rare occurrence. Optimus began thinking maybe all these spectators were onto something.

Megatron’s optic darted over to his, breaking his stream of thought again. There was an odd glimmer in it. Something was off.

Just as Optimus was about to stand up-

KRA-BOOM!!

A massive explosion shook the stadium, kicking up dust and debris everywhere around them.

Before Optimus knew what had happened, he was already digging himself out of a pile of debris.

“Bulkhead! Bumblebee, Ratchet! Is everyone alright?!”

“A little squished but otherwise, doin’ fine, Bossbot!”

Optimus looked to his left and could faintly make out the silhouettes of-

Oh no.

~~~~~~

Shockwave, Blitzwing, and the Cons who should have been locked in Trypticon’s basement, weren’t. They had, against all logic, escaped, and were now marching through the hole they blew into the stadium wall, directly toward Megatron.

Shockwave disabled Megatron’s stasis cuffs with ease. The gray warframe stood up, stretched, and removed his mouthguard.

“Shockwave, my loyal subject. How wonderful it is to finally see you again.”

“The pleasure is mine, Lord Megatron,” the purple mech bowed politely. “The credit truly goes to our prison guards. Autobots are shamefully easy to pay off to turn a few blind optics.”

“OH GREAT AND POWERFUL LEADER, I HAVE RECOVERED YOUR WEAPONS SO THAT YOU MAY RID THIS WORLD OF-.”

“You have my gratitude, Lugnut.” Megatron cut him off, taking his cannon and swords from the kneeling bot.

Optimus had just managed to wiggle out from the rubble he was under. The Senators were busy being ushered out of the stadium, and spectators were still scrambling to get out however they could. It took the Autotroopers overseeing the trial far too long to finally start shooting at the escapees.

Their shots were, at best, a mild nuisance to the giants before them.

Megatron fired a couple shots in their direction, enough to frighten them off.

“A rather ingenious idea, holding my trial out in the open,” Megatron smirked, his gaze landing on Sentinel, who’d been knocked to the ground by the blast. “Only the most clever bot could have thought up such a brilliant plan.”

Megatron’s optics met Sentinel’s, a look of horror in his at the realization he’d been played.

“Have all preparations been made, Shockwave?” The Cons had turned towards the hole in the wall, making ready to leave while Blitzwing and some of the Starscream clones flew around the panicking civilians, toying with them like giant mosquitos.

Optimus managed to get the last of himself out from under the rubble, and, grabbing his axe, charged.

Extending the axe’s handle, he vaulted up into the air, far above the height of the Decepticons.

“MEGATRON!!”

Optimus caught him by surprise, coming from so high up. He managed to land a solid kick on Megatron’s chest plate, causing the towering mech to stumble backward. Before he could do more, Lugnut’s fist swiped and drove him into a wall on the opposite side of the stadium, passing out.

~~~~~~

The next few days on Cybertron were utter chaos. News networks were endlessly covering the embarrassment of a trial and hyper-analyzing every possible detail. Bots were either too scared to leave their homes or were picketing outside the Autobot High Council headquarters, often in violation of the newly imposed curfew, calling for Sentinel’s removal from the position of Magnus.

Inside, things weren’t much better. The Council had been locked down for days, trying desperately to run damage control and figure out how to calm the populace.

“Divert any resources we have to tracking those ‘Cons, I want them back here, and back in prison, STAT!”

Alpha Trion sighed, “Sentinel, your plan would require us to pull much of our forces from the Outer Rim, leaving it exposed. I do not think this would be a wise decision a-”

“As your Magnus, I command you to-”

“Acting Magnus. And need I remind you, the decision that set off this predicament was yours?” Alpha Trion raised his hand.“All in favor of removing Sentinel from the position of Acting Magnus?”

Every hand in the room went up.

“What are you gonna do, govern without a Magnus? There’s no one to replace me! Who do you possibly think can-”

“Not quite, Sentinel,” a commanding voice came from the hall leading to the room the Senators were gathered in, “A sufficient replacement has been found.” Ultra Magnus stepped into the light, looking better than he did before his coma.

“A pleasure to see you in good functioning, Sir.” Alpha Trion smiled politely.

Ultra Magnus turned to Sentinel, bathing him in shadow. “You have far overstepped your authority, Sentinel. Going against a Council majority vote, parading prisoners through the streets, and allowing said prisoners to escape? That’s to say nothing of your other escapades while I was incapacitated.” Ultra Magnus’ usual calm demeanor was showing cracks. His anger was seeping out with every word.

“Ultra Magnus, Sir, I was only doing what I-” he stammered, laughing uncomfortably.

“I had faith in you, Sentinel, but your careless theatrics have compromised the safety of Cybertron and its citizens.”

“Sir, please, I-”

“I hereby relieve you of your post as Acting Magnus. As punishment for your actions, you will be stripped of all rank, Sentinel Minor.”

That last word hung above Sentinel like a stormcloud. For the first time in his life, he was stunned into complete silence.

The Senators followed the newly returned Magnus out of the room, leaving the former Magnus alone.

~~~~~~

After making sure his friends were in one piece, Optimus had gone straight home following the incident. He’d spent the last few days essentially barricaded in his apartment, staying as quiet as possible and ignoring the endless knocks on the door and windows from reporters itching for an interview.

Sentinel had really mucked this one up. And Optimus knew he’d be the one having to clean up his former friend’s mess again. The red mech took a deep vent in, slowly let it out, and rolled over onto his back. He stared at the ceiling, hoping this would be over soon.

Chapter Text

Immediately upon Megatron’s return to New Kaon, Strika requested an emergency meeting be held as soon as possible. She had sounded rather impatient, far out of character for her. Megatron knew Strika, if she was this worked up about something, it wasn’t good.

Megatron entered his private conference room and took a seat at the head of the table, exventing. Alone, he took the time to silently reflect some. Being home was a relief. He could put up with a lot, but being crammed into that tiny cell for so long and all that came with it had begun to wear on him. Strangely, he’d missed being around his rowdy soldiers and, occasionally more well-behaved Generals.

Before he could sink any further into thought, Shockwave walked in. Strika had specifically asked that the Decepticon Head of Intelligence be present.

“My Liege,” the purple mech bowed politely.

As he took a seat to Megatron’s right, a holoscreen in the center of the table flickered to life.

“Lord Megatron, your return is most welcome.” A large pink and orange femme appeared on-screen. “I apologize for such short notice, I could not put off this matter any further.”

“Apologies are not needed, General Strika.”

“Shall I begin then?”

“Proceed at your own discretion.”

“In your absence, we had received reports of an unknown planet-like object seemingly moving near our borders.”

An unknown body? This was indeed cause for concern.

“Shortly after, contact with Ijurn was lost. A ship was sent to investigate but found nothing upon arrival.”

“Then, what is the problem, General?” Shockwave sounded mildly confused at this.

“Exactly what I said. We found nothing.” An image popped up next to Strika. Where Ijurn once was now looked more akin to a sparse asteroid field. “No planets, no ships, just some floating debris.”

The bots sat wordlessly.

Megatron shifted forward, brow furrowed, hands clasped below his chin, placing his elbows on the table. “Have you been tracking this…moving planet?”

“To no avail. It ceased showing on our scanners after the first sighting, briefly reappearing near Ijurn for a short time. It disappeared again after we lost contact, and we have been unable to locate it since.”

“Continue your search, General. Report your findings to both me and Shockwave. He will be collaborating with you on this search. This is to be kept between us for the time being.”

“Understood, Lord Megatron.”

“This meeting is dismissed.”

The screen disappeared with Strika disconnecting the call. Megatron leaned back in his chair, his thoughts racing.

The two mechs sat in silence for a few seconds before Shockwave spoke, “My Lord, you don’t suppose this could be the Autobots’ doing?”

Megatron shook his head. “If this were one of their projects I guarantee I would have heard of it from that placeholder Magnus. No, this is something else.”

~~~~~~

Things had miraculously calmed down since Ultra Magnus’ return. Well, calm may have been an overstatement. News outlets and tabloids were still running stories of the Decepticons’ escape endlessly, now with the added variety of Sentinel’s demotion and Ultra Magnus’ recovery. Needless to say, things were still a mess. Thankfully the newly returned Magnus was leagues better at calming the public than his replacement had been.

Optimus had finally been able to leave his apartment without being accosted by overzealous reporters for the first time in weeks. He had sped to the Council building upon receiving a private meeting request from Ultra Magnus. He probably wanted to discuss planetary security or launching a search for the escapees.

Stepping into Sentinel’s former office, Optimus saw Ultra Magnus seated at his desk, poring over legal documents and reports. The mech was clearly engrossed in his work, but looked up when he heard the door slide open.

“Ah, Optimus Prime. A pleasure to see you.”

“The pleasure’s mine, Sir.”

“I heard of your efforts to prevent the Decepticons’ escape. A valiant effort, though unsuccessful.”

Optimus blushed a little in embarrassment, “My apologies Sir. I wish I could have done more.”

Optimus could have sworn he saw the edges of Ultra Magnus’ mouth curl upward just the tiniest bit before falling back into his usual neutral expression.

“I suppose you’re wondering why I’ve called you here.” The blue and white mech set down the datapad he had been working on and stood. “In light of recent events, I have made the decision to demote Sentinel and remove him from the Magnus line of succession. This, you are aware of.”

Optimus shifted uncomfortably. Was this Ultra Magnus’ way of gently kicking him off the Council?

He continued, “I had hoped that, in my absence, Sentinel would have stepped up to fill the role Cybertron needed. However, I was wrong to believe this. For the time being, I will resume my role as Magnus,” he picked up a datapad off a stack at the edge of the desk and held it out to Optimus, “You will remain on the Council as a consultant for Decepticon activity, given your familiarity with those which escaped. Your first assignment will be to comb the Iacon Database for any historic information regarding Decepticon activity, habits, and territory that may be useful to us. You will find a more detailed explanation here.”

Optimus took the datapad and glanced at it. The screen displayed a long list of topics and books he’d have to look through.

“I want you to research and hypothesize possible actions they may take against us. You will be collaborating with other Council members and their subordinates and are to report findings at Council meetings. Do you have any questions?”

Optimus took one more look at the screen before answering, “No, Sir, your instructions are clear.”

“Then you are dismissed. I expect to see you at the next Council meeting.”

Optimus left the building and felt every cable in his body relax. Being one-on-one with Ultra Magnus was always nerve-wracking, but after the chaos of the last couple weeks and having failed to stop the Decepticons at the trial, he’d been even more on edge. As he drove towards the library, he decided a night in with some books and a calming oil bath were in order.

~~~~~~

Saying Megatron was in a bad mood would have been an understatement. Only a few days after his emergency meeting with Strika, the mysterious object had reappeared on the long-range scanners before being lost again. A distress signal had been received from a colony planet but was abruptly cut off. A scout ship was sent but, like last time, found quite literally nothing. Those planets were less populated, but they were still his people. Losing them was bad enough, but not knowing how it happened was even worse. The object had blipped a few more times near smaller planets, asteroids, and moons, but no one could get a trace on it.

After the second planet’s destruction, Megatron figured it best to make a formal announcement should anything happen. Energon supplies were low enough already, but with the destruction of a few mining planets and storehouses on some of those smaller bodies, it would certainly start to take its toll.

Megatron was in the control room of his main base on New Kaon when he received an urgent message from Shockwave. He sighed in frustration, opening the communication screen.

“Forgive the interruption, Lord Megatron. We have discovered a pattern in the object’s movement.”

Megatron’s stance perked up at this news. “What have you found, Shockwave?”

“This…thing’s destruction appears to follow a path. From its first sighting at Ijurn, it has been making its way upward through our territory, the last sighting being near Chaar. Given its predicted trajectory, it-”

As Shockwave spoke, a massive shadow moved to cover New Kaon. Megatron looked up at the sky, a deep feeling of terror welling in his tanks.

Above him loomed a metal planet. What looked like two pincers sat on the edge of a glowing opening on its surface. He’d never believed those old stories the miners told, they were just meant to scare newsparks into behaving, but here it was, a primal entity older than time itself. Unicron.

“-appears to have already found us.”

~~~~~~

Optimus was surprised to get a summons from Ultra Magnus again so soon. He’s been ordered to drop what he was doing and make haste to Trypticon Prison, no questions asked. As he sped down the motorway, he wondered what could possibly be needed of him at a prison.

He was met at the prison entrance by a few mechs from the Elite Guard and led inside by two, walking in between them. They stopped at a door to the next cell block and were greeted by Cliffjumper.

“Optimus!” Cliffjumper strangely seemed relieved to see him. “Thank Primus, I was starting to lose my mind. Since you’re our resident ‘Con expert, I figured I’d get you to come out here. You two stand guard here.”

Cliffjumper pushed open the door and led Optimus down the row of detainment cells.

“Of course. What seems to be the problem? I thought all the ‘Cons we had in here were gone?”

“Well, they were all gone. Until this one showed up.” Cliffjumper stopped in front of a cell near the end of the block. Looking inside, Optimus saw a young, silvery-white flier, only slightly taller than himself standing in the middle of the cell in a pair of cuffs, Decepticon insignia emblazoned on his chest. He looked tense. He looked…scared.

Cliffjumper continued, “Security caught his ship on a scanner crossing into Autobot space. They chased him into a crash landing and arrested him, brought ‘em here for obvious reasons. I’ve been trying to interrogate him for hours, but the bot just keeps rambling.”

“I’m not rambling!” Shouted the silver mech, “I’m trying to warn you! Unicron is coming, and you’re all in danger! Please, you have to listen to me!”

“See? Poor bot’s crazy! Crash landing must’ve shook a few bolts loose.”

Optimus paused at the mention of Unicron. He’d read up on the subject before, but the so-called Chaos Bringer was just a myth. A fairy tale, as it would be called on Earth. Crazy or not, this mech in front of him looked to be in real distress.

“Let me try talking to him,” Optimus turned to face Cliffjumper.

Cliffjumper shrugged. “Worth a try. Good luck, Prime!” He walked back to the door, closing it behind him.

Optimus turned back to face the prisoner. This had the potential to be a Decepticon trap, he knew that. But this little jet in front of him truly appeared shaken.

“My name is Optimus Prime. Can you tell me yours?”

“I-I’m Tailwind.” The mech shrank back, unsure of Optimus's presence. “I know who you are.”

“I’m not here to hurt you, Tailwind,” Optimus sat down in front of the cell, “I just want to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about! I keep saying the same thing over and over, and yet no one, not a single bot, has been willing to hear me out. And I know it’s because I’m a Decepticon, but- but-”

Tailwind sank to the floor, visibly upset, voice quivering.

“Then let me be the first.”

Tailwind jolted, surprised at the Prime’s comment.

“Take me to the beginning. How did you end up in Autobot territory?”

“We- We’d been tracking an anomaly through Decepticon space. Before we knew it, Unicron had appeared above New Kaon. Megatron had sent out messengers to find help, but most…didn’t make it off-world. I was lucky enough to crash and be captured, and…now I’m here.”

“You were sent to get help? From us?”

“Get help, deliver a warning, the clarity got lost in the chaos.”

Optimus sat for a moment, contemplating.

“I don’t know much about Unicron, just what I’ve heard in stories. Do you think…” Optimus shifted, “Will he come for Cybertron?”

“I suspect it’s a possibility. Primus created Cybertron. It would make sense for Unicron to have a drive to destroy his enemy’s creation,” Tailwind moved to a kneeling position, closer to the cell window, “I understand you have no reason to believe me. But please, please, for the sake of everything you love, do something.”

“I can’t trust you blindly, Tailwind, you know that as well as I do.”

Tailwind’s frame dropped in dismay at hearing this.

“I don’t have much power, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you!” Tailwind leaned towards him, resting his forehead on the cell window.

Optimus left and was greeted by Cliffjumper outside the cell block.

“What’d he say, Prime?”

“I need to speak with Ultra Magnus.”

~~~~~~

“You’re asking me to believe the storybook ramblings of a captured Decepticon?”

Optimus stood before Ultra Magnus’ desk as the blue mech slowly paced around the office.

“I’m not saying you have to believe him, Sir, just that it may be worth looking into. He didn’t seem like he was lying.”

“Of course not. He’s a Decepticon, being expert liars is in their nature.”

They stood in silence as Ultra Magnus’ comment hung in the air. Yes, Tailwind was a Decepticon, but the panic in his voice just seemed too real.

“Humor me, Sir.”

Ultra Magnus turned to look at the Prime, taken aback by the boldness of the request.

Prime’s tanks rolled, but it was too late to back out. “Direct the Observatory towards Decepticon space. If he’s lying, we lose nothing. And if he’s not, we get time to prepare.”

Ultra Magnus stood, deep in thought, before finally speaking again.

“I will consider your proposal, Optimus. You are dismissed.”

Chapter Text

The Intelligence division continued their interrogation of Tailwind to expected results.

“Please, I know nothing except what I’ve already told you!” The endless questioning and gaslighting was breaking Tailwind. Any more of this, and his processor would short-circuit.

“I’ve asked you once, I’ve asked you a thousand times. Why. Are. You. Here?!” Cliffjumper kicked the window in front of Tailwind. He was losing his patience with this mech. Either this Decepticon was stupid or just really stubborn. Whatever. He’d squeeze out what info the ‘Con knew soon enough.

“I’m telling the truth!” Tailwind’s voice began shaking as he crumpled to the floor. “Why won’t you believe me?”

Cliffjumper felt the smallest pain in his spark at the sight of the mech curled inside the cell. He shifted around awkwardly for a second before walking away, brushing off the feeling as a side effect of stress. Passing into the next cell block, he was surprised to receive a comm from Perceptor.

“Your questioning of the prisoner has yielded no results?” As strange as Perceptor’s voice was, it was a welcome break from a day of nothing but pleading and increasingly frustrated demands.

“Nope, not a thing. Keeps repeating the same thing over and over.”

“Have you considered a more direct route of extracting information?”

“Yes, I have. And no, we can’t do mnemosurgery, apparently it’s ‘unethical’ or something.” He made air quotes at this statement, hoping the scientist hadn’t deleted his ability to understand sarcasm alongside his emotions. “Besides, I think he’s finally starting to cave.”

~~~~~~

Megatron sat alone on the bridge of the Revenge. The day had been a lot, and there was much to discuss. He dreaded all that was to follow. With a heavy feeling in his tanks, he initiated a call to his Generals.

“Strika, report.”

“Three squadrons were fully wiped out, all others took heavy damage. Casualties are still being assessed but are estimated to be in the thousands.”

“Blitzwing?”

“Half of our flight has been either incapacitated or offlined, Lord Megatron. Even Lugnut has seen better days.”

Blitzwing stepped aside, showing Lugnut sprawled on the ground missing almost half his frame. Unhindered by his condition, the purple mech wiggled around, shouting, “- WILL NOT GO UNPUNISHED SO LONG AS I FUNCTION! WHEN I-”

Blitzwing mercifully muted himself. Megatron wasn’t sure he could handle one of Lugnut’s rage-induced rants right now.

“Continue repairs and launch a search for survivors. Send all reports to me once complete.”

“Lord Megatron,” Shockwave interjected tiredly, “Unicron has turned towards Autobot space, and we have yet to hear from any of our messengers. I can dispatch another few, if you so command.”

“No. I will take this matter into my own hands.”

The Generals signed off, leaving Megatron alone again.

He looked around, taking in the sight of his ship. The Revenge had taken heavy damage in the fight. Windows were broken, wiring was exposed and sparking, and pipes were leaking. It’s a miracle the ship was still in one piece.

Megatron gazed out into space at the thin cloud of dust and pebbles that were once New Kaon. What little they’d had in exile was gone. He felt lost, confused, and unsure. Rare emotions for the mech, and not ones he’d ever admit having to himself or anyone else. What was he to do now? His fleet was decimated, and any idea of a pursuit was out of the question. Sending messengers to find help once was bad enough for his pride. A new thought crossed his mind. But what if-? No. He couldn’t. Out. Of. The. Question. But his people needed help, now more than ever.

Electing to swallow his pride one more time, he opened his private comm channel.

“Shockwave. Find me a suitable Autobot communication frequency.”

~~~~~~

The Observatory had found nothing of note. Astronomers spent days combing through the stars, searching for any indication of truth to their new prisoner’s story but came up empty. Everything looked fine.

Cosmos floated around the Observatory, bouncing through the menagerie of telescopes he’d installed. He was usually the only bot in the building, save for his assistant, Payload, a small white shuttle. Not that he minded, he preferred the company of the quiet, empty universe he was in charge of watching. This day was shaping up to be like any other.

“Cosmos, why are you still looking at the ‘Cons space? You already said everything looks normal!” Payload asked as he walked into the main room of the observatory.

“Well, you know. I just- It’s not an area I get to look at often! I-I want to take advantage of it!”

“Mmhm, ok. Well, come down here and get some fuel. It’s been two days since you’ve had any.”

Cosmos finally tore his optics away from the telescope he was using, suddenly aware of the emptiness in his tanks.

“Ok, ok.” He floated to the ground, accepting an energon cube from Payload’s extended hand.

Cosmos sipped his drink as Payload took over monitor duty. He was often so engrossed in his work, he’d forget to take breaks. As much as he liked being alone, he was glad to have someone like Payload there to keep him at least a little grounded.

“COSMOS!” Payload grabbed the green bot, startling him into choking on his drink. “Look, look!”

Cosmos was dragged up with surprising force to the Observatory’s main telescope, his face practically being shoved into the eyepiece.

“What exactly am I looking for, Payload?” Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Sure, there was a shiny, metallic planet surrounded by some asteroids, but that wasn’t abnormal. Plenty of systems like that existed.

“Just wait for it.”

The two sat in silence as Cosmos watched, brimming with curiosity. The planet was rotating very, very slowly. Soon, it had moved just enough for a large horn-like structure to come into view on its equator.

“Oh.” This was certainly odd. It might be worth reporting.

As the astronomer kept watching, another horn came into view, flanking a large opening. The hole began glowing—growing brighter and brighter — before firing a beam at a nearby planetoid, ripping it apart, and sucking the debris towards the opening.

“Oh.” This was definitely worth reporting.

~~~~~~

Ultra Magnus was stressed. Just as panic surrounding the trial was dying down, he’d received countless reports of a video message from the Decepticon leader himself. Someone had managed to get a recording, which now lay on the Magnus’ desk.

The image on-screen was grainy and full of static but unmistakably that of Megatron. Magnus had replayed it hundreds of times today, taking it in.

“I am Megatron, leader of the Decepticons.” The audio was just as messy as the video. “Mere hours ago, New Kaon was beset by Unicron, who has now turned his attention towards Autobot space. The messengers I sent have likely been ignored, so heed my warning: you are not safe. Cyb- - tron is i- d- -ger - -”

The message cut off there, leaving the screen full of static. Ultra Magnus had feared the prisoner, Tailwind, had been lying, but with this message and what Cosmos had seen, this was certainly a serious matter.

He set down the datapad as he stood, heading out to an emergency Council meeting.

~~~~~~

Optimus had been briefed on his way to the Council chamber. Why did Tailwind have to be right? Why couldn’t he go five minutes without having to deal with Decepticons? Just why?

“By now, you are all aware of the situation.” Even now, Ultra Magnus appeared calm and stoic. “The Elite Guard has been instructed to remain on standby, and our science and engineering divisions have restarted mass weapons production.”

“Pardon my negativity, Ultra Magnus,” spoke Alpha Trion, “but if ancient legends are to be believed, none but Primus can defeat Unicron. If Primus himself was nearly offlined in his final battle, what chance do we stand?”

“We have no chance, old friend,” the Magnus sighed, “we simply need to hold him off long enough to evacuate to a safe distance.”

“And then what? Do we continue to flee with no direction?”

“Until a viable solution is found, we can either fight, or run and live to see another day.”

“Will we be able to transport so many? Even the space bridges have their operational limits.” Senator Botanica was an infrequent commenter but brought up a good point.

“We will send as many through as we can. If it comes down to it, we will begin launching ships without the use of the bridges.”

Optimus listened to the debate going on around him. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Cliffjumper answer a comm, eyes widening.

“Sirs! Please pardon my interruption,” the small mech shot out of his seat into a salute, “I have just received intel that Decepticon ships have been spotted at our border outside Antilla!”

“What?!”

“This is madness!”

“They would dare come so close to Autobot space?”

“Ultra Magnus, Sir!” Cliffjumper almost couldn’t be heard over the commotion. “Megatron is requesting an audience with you.”

The Senators paused their squabbling, turning to face the interrupter.

“Tell Intel I accept. Have them patch him through to a video screen.”

At this, Optimus stood. “Sir, you can’t possibly believe Megatron’s intentions are good. This could all be a ploy to lower our guard!”

“I will decide his intentions for myself, Optimus.”

Prime sank back into his chair as the giant holoscreen materialized, an uncomfortable feeling settling through his frame as he once again looked upon his worst enemy.

“Ultra Magnus. Senators.” Megatron glanced around the table, giving a shallow nod as he spoke, briefly catching Prime’s gaze again.

Damn him, Optimus thought, how does he always manage to sound so polite?

The warlord continued, “I come to you with a proposal I believe could benefit us both.” Megatron smirked. “We seem to be having a similar problem regarding Unicron. Were we to form an alliance, the Chaos Bringer wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“SLAG no, you greasy, two-timing -”

“It is rude to speak out of turn, Cliffjumper.” With one side-eye glance the Magnus silenced the irritable red Intel bot. “What can you contribute to this proposed alliance?”

“You have firepower, Ultra Magnus, but your civil frames are weaker, your civilians untrained. My mechs were built for war. We have a Navy fleet, eons of training, and far superior strength.”

Optimus sneered. Superior strength, HA!

“I don’t believe you would offer your armies purely out of the goodness of your spark. What do you ask for in return?”

“I ask only for a favor from you, Ultra Magnus, to be decided at a future date.”

The large blue mech paused, weighing his options.

“What guarantee do I have that you will keep your end of the bargain?”

“You have my word on my honor as a warrior.”

Your word means nothing. The thought was practically leaking from Prime’s mouth, finding it difficult to keep it closed.

“Should we accept your terms, I would like to add my own.” The Magnus’ voice was somehow more assertive now. “You and your soldiers will treat mine as your equals. Being an alliance, no harm is to come to either side from the other. No Decepticon is to enter Autobot space unless I deem it necessary. After the alliance ends, you and yours are to abide by the original post-war agreement and return to your territory”

“Very well. I accept your terms, Ultra Magnus.”

“And I yours. We will meet in two hours on neutral ground to finalize this agreement.”

“I look forward to our meeting.” Megatron signed off, leaving those present to absorb what had transpired.

Alpha Trion was the first to speak. “Ultra Magnus, I am hesitant to believe Megatron’s sincerity in this matter. He agreed far too easily to our terms.”

“He is either waiting to turn on us, or is truly desperate,” Botanica said.

“I’d guess both.” Optimus was thinking out loud. “If New Kaon was really destroyed, his forces would have taken massive damage. He needs all the bodies he can throw at Unicron. Of course he doesn’t want Cybertron to be destroyed! If there’s no Cybertron, there’s nothing for him to take over. He’s too proud to admit he needs our help.”

“His betrayal will not be immediate. He will bide his time until an opportune moment. This is most probable in the event of heavy Autobot losses, or once the threat has been dispatched.” Perceptor had been quiet all meeting, mentally running through every possible scenario.

“Whatever the case, we need their military power.” Ultra Magnus stood, signaling the end of the council meeting.

~~~~~~

Beating Megatron to a pulp on multiple occasions had apparently qualified Optimus to join Ultra Magnus in finalizing this temporary agreement. He was dreading being in the same room as his mortal enemy for the next who knows how long.

The Steelhaven landed on a small outpost asteroid. From the bridge, Optimus could see a Decepticon ship already waiting. In between the ships stood a small, dinky building, presumably where these negotiations would meet their conclusion. The Autobots, consisting of the Magnus, three Elite Guardsmechs carrying very large blasters, and himself, walked towards the building and met the Decepticons at the door. Unsurprisingly, Megatron had brought his absolute worst: Blitzwing, Strika, and Shockwave.

Optimus made sure to stay as far as possible from the towering bots as they walked inside.

The building, or more accurately, the single room with a roof and four walls, was barely large enough to contain the warframes, who looked rather uncomfortable having to bend and crouch so as not to destroy the ceiling. Megatron fared the worst. His knees were practically under his chin, sitting at the prepared table. Optimus stifled a laugh, finding the sight amusing. He knew Megatron was glaring at him, but he didn’t care. How badly this must be hurting his ego.

“I penned a draft of our agreement. You may look it over at your leisure. If anything requires amending, it can be discussed.” Ultra Magnus slid an Autobot-sized datapad across the table. It looked minuscule in Megatron’s hand.

Optimus looked around the room as Megatron read through the document. The warframes in the corner were getting twitchy and shooting looks at the Autobot entourage.

“All previously discussed conditions appear present. This agreement is satisfactory.” Megatron signed at the bottom and slid the pad back to Ultra Magnus, who signed in turn.

The Magnus handed off the datapad to one of the guards and turned back to face the Decepticons. “With our alliance finalized, it would be wise to plan a course of action.”

Megatron shifted, trying in vain to get comfortable.

“In our battle, we found nothing that hindered Him.” He gestured to Shockwave, who awkwardly hobbled over and handed his superior a hologram projector.

“This footage was captured shortly after the attack began.”

The footage began on a ship, with the videographer looking around, briefly catching a glimpse of his missing leg, before swinging over to a window overlooking New Kaon. The carnage was astounding. Optimus knew this would be bad, but it was so quick. Unicron’s pincers pierced the planet, ripping it apart in minutes as the debris was pulled into the opening between them. And the voices. Primus, the voices, so full of confusion, panic, and fear. It was almost too much.

As the footage played, Optimus chanced a look at Megatron. The warlord’s usual angry expression had softened, just barely. As small a change as it was, it was an odd sight.

The video ended, and Megatron went back to his usual scowl.

“So what course of action do you propose? Your attacks did nothing to deter Unicron. ” Ultra Magnus was leaning forward, elbows on the table.

“Play it again.” Every optic in the room turned towards Optimus, not appreciating the interruption, but the video was turned back on.

“Pause here! Now slow it down. Right here, see? It looks like something exploded inside Unicron. He reeled back here.”

The faction leaders leaned in, scrutinizing the slowed images.

“It seems so, Optimus.” Ultra Magnus leaned back, “But where do we find a weapon strong enough to fully incapacitate such a threat?”

The Prime wracked his brain. He remembered reading something a long time ago, it seemed important, but what was it?

Megatron huffed, amused at Prime’s lack of an answer.

“Perhaps I could find a suitable warhead. I have certain connections you Autobots lack.” Primus, Megatron was full of himself.

“Very well. I will send a scout ship to tail Unicron and report should anything change.”

“A wise decision. He has a way of catching his quarry unawares.”

~~~~~~

Megatron found his mind wandering to thoughts of that damned Prime. The hatred he felt towards the Autobot had somewhat diminished in the weeks since his escape, and he found himself developing the slightest respect towards his former captor. Whatever his feelings towards the Autobot were, he had to admit the little Prime was smart and, dare he say, bold. Few would dare interrupt a meeting between the faction leaders, but Megatron was strangely relieved he had. He’d been at a loss for solutions, and Prime had given him one.

Megatron shook the thoughts from his mind. He couldn’t waste time on Prime now, he had a bomb to find.

Chapter Text

Megatron had delivered on his promise. The warhead lying before Optimus was truly massive, at least the size of the Steelhaven.

Optimus had been sent to this rocky moon by the Council to supervise the arming of the bomb. He knew he was bound to have some assignment with the Decepticons, being their unofficial ‘Decepticon Expert’. He honestly didn’t even mind being around this group all that much, aside from one bot; much to his discomfort, Megatron was also present, scrutinizing his every movement. He’d spent the last six hours glaring at Optimus, and it was really starting to wear the Prime down. Thank Primus for that treaty Megatron had to sign. At least he had a few Autobots to slightly balance things out.

Prime walked around the bomb, inspecting progress. Everything was running smoothly. He just hoped it would be ready in time and that the thing even worked in the first place.

“This thing looks ancient. Where did you guys even find it?”

“Dunno. Some Nebulon traders, I think?” Optimus had learned the technician’s name was Grindwheel. He was pretty friendly, at least by Decepticon standards. “Apparently, this thing’s older than the War.”

“And it’s managed to survive this long?”

“I would appreciate if you did not distract my soldiers while they worked.” For a mech his size, Megatron sure could sneak around quietly.

“Just checking in on progress.” Optimus sighed in irritation. Megatron’s mere presence was wearing his patience thin, and his micromanaging of Prime, and only Prime, was really getting to him. He opted to step inside the moon’s tiny base to cool off before he did anything he’d regret. He could use a refuel anyway.

Optimus hadn’t been inside for long before everything began to shake. He ran outside, fearing the worst. Unicron had appeared out of nowhere. Before he could even open his maw, the small planet began to be pulled in by his immense gravity.

“Everyone, back to your ships! Hurry!” Optimus shouted.

But it was too late. Anything not bolted down was pulled upward, including any bot unlucky enough to be caught unawares. Optimus deployed his axe, swinging it into the ground and praying it would hold. The pull strengthened, ripping up more surface material. Prime felt his ax shift. Seconds later, he was careening into the void of space, trying in vain to dodge the debris being sucked up with him. His systems were overloaded with panic and error messages. This wasn’t how he thought he would die. It’s not how he wanted to die.

As quickly as it happened, it was over, and Optimus was hurtling back towards the moon, followed by all the debris that came out of the massive crater now carved on its surface.

~~~~~~

It took Optimus a second to realize his optics weren’t broken. It was just that dark. When he tried to move, a searing pain shot through his left leg up his spine. He tried his headlights, but those actually weren’t functioning. His optics adjusted to the tiny amount of light leaking through cracks around him. He was trapped in a small pocket under a pile of debris, his left leg pinned.

“Hello? Does anyone copy? Is there anybody down here?”

Silence.

Optimus started to panic again. Was he alone? Did anyone else survive? Would he survive? He sent a distress signal, praying it would somehow make it out through the rubble. As he was psyching himself up to try moving again, he heard metallic grinding and falling rocks.

A faint light shone through an opening as a piece of debris was removed. Someone else was down here; he was saved! As more scrap was removed, Optimus realized with growing horror that his would-be rescuer was Megatron.

Now he kind of wished he hadn’t been found.

Megatron looked down at him with disdain. “What do we have here? A little bug who’s been crushed?”

“Shut it, Megatron - AAGH!” He’d instinctively reached back to grab his ax, forgetting his injury.

Megatron had cleared enough rubble for the two to see each other clearly. He could see Megatron had taken quite a beating, not an inch of him was unscathed.

“You are in no position to be talking back to me, Autobot. Now, turn over.”

Getting himself into a seated position, Prime finally saw the extent of his injury. His leg was more than just pinned, it was completely crushed and leaking energon.

“It will have to be amputated. This room is too small for me to make a clean cut with my swords, I will have to tear it off.”

“What?!”

“I will not repeat myself.” Megatron handed him a small piece of scrap metal. “Bite down on this and stay quiet.”

He wrapped a hand around Prime’s leg before ripping it off at the joint.

“gRRRRGGH-!!” A muffled scream escaped Optimus’ throat, turning to static. This was the worst pain he’d felt in a while. He sat for a moment, panting.

The piece of metal fell from his mouth, his voice shaking. “I hope you enjoyed that.”

“Oh, I most certainly did.” Megatron sneered. He pinched off the torn end of the knee, rolling it a bit to prevent further leakage, scooped up his patient, and stepped out into a small passageway.

“What, you’re not going to make me hop along on one foot?” Optimus couldn’t help making the sarcastic remark, whatever the outcome may be.

“As amusing as it would be, you would only slow me down.”

Despite the tone of his remarks, Optimus was absolutely terrified. While he was at Megatron’s mercy, he did find the situation a bit amusing. Whatever the intentions behind the action, being carried bridal-style by the most feared mech in recent history was a bit of an ego boost. Megatron must be glad no one’s here to see this. Optimus found his mind wandering again. Megatron was holding him with surprising care, and he fit perfectly inside the crook of the warlord’s arm. It was actually quite comfortable. The energon loss finally hitting him, Optimus closed his eyes and fell into a light recharge.

~~~~~~

Megatron stopped in a small but spacious cavern. Looking around, he saw several branching tunnels.

“We will rest here.” He dropped Prime down by the wall and stepped away to stretch his joints. The Autobot weighed nothing to him, but holding his arms in one position for so long was uncomfortable. After sufficiently loosening up, Megatron sat down, making sure to leave a good amount of space between the two of them.

“We have to get back up to the surface. These rocks are jamming every signal I’ve tried sending.” Prime had been recharging for most of the walk. His voice echoed in the spacious dome as he looked around at the ceiling.

“There is no need to state the obvious, Autobot.”

“You know my name. Use it.” Optimus sounded tired. Looking over, Megatron noticed his optics and paint weren’t as bright as they should be. That injury must really be getting to him. After some contemplation, Megaron reached into his subspace and rummaged around.

“Drink this.” Megatron tossed his charge a small energon cube.

He watched as Optimus carefully opened the cube and sniffed its contents, as if worried they were poisoned, before taking a cautious sip. Of course it wasn’t poisoned; he needed the Prime alive. After finishing the fuel, Optimus scooted over to a pile of old scrap metal. He fished around for a bit before pulling out a couple of pipes and a length of wire, beginning to fashion them into something resembling a crude, blunt weapon.

“What are you doing?”

“Making a prosthetic.” Optimus began wrapping his creation around where his leg used to be. “I figured you don’t want to carry me as much as I don’t want to be carried by you, so here’s a solution.”

“Don’t be foolish, Autobot. You could hardly keep pace with me if you had both legs.”

“Oh, quit complaining.” Having finished his project, Optimus stood up with some difficulty and hobbled around, apparently testing his new appendage.

Megatron exvented loudly in annoyance. The little Autobot was as stubborn as ever.

He leaned back against the wall and looked around the room. A feeling of deja vu crept into his processor as his optics flicked around. After a minute of silence, it finally hit him. “I know this place.” He leaned forward again, eyes trained on the ceiling.

“Why would you know about a random little planet like this?”

“A mining operation. I was placed in this section of tunnels.” Megatron stood up to inspect the area further. A few of the tunnels had caved in, but most still looked usable. He walked around for another minute, brow furrowed in thought, before pointing down one of the openings. “This is the fastest way to the main cavern. There is an elevator shaft I may be able to use.”

~~~~~~

Optimus was running as best as he could to keep up with Megatron. The mech hadn’t been bluffing when he said he’d have a hard time. Missing an entire knee and ankle would make walking difficult. And yet, Optimus persisted, wanting to rub Megatron’s nose in this as much as he could. The makeshift prosthetic was incredibly uncomfortable, but the thought of being carried and even remotely liking it was something he didn’t want in his processor right now.

“Ough!” Optimus stumbled, having not lifted the prosthetic high enough. Megatron kept his pace, showing no concern. A system notification popped up on Prime’s HUD. His energon levels were concerningly low, and now his wound was at risk of a rust infection. Great, just what he needed.

Up ahead, Megatron stopped at a fork in the road long enough for Optimus to catch up.

“Enjoying your stroll?” Megatron looked back at him and scoffed, clearly wanting an admission of defeat.

“Yeah, the weather’s pretty nice today.”

Megatron’s smile disappeared quickly. “Bite your tongue, Autobot. Snide remarks will do you no good.” He headed off down the right branch.

“If they’ll do me no good, then why am I still alive?” Optimus asked through gritted teeth. The pain from his wound and this situation as a whole were really souring his mood.

“I have my reasons.”

“Why haven’t you killed me yet? You could've left me to die, but you didn’t. You could kill me and no one would know, but you haven’t!”

Megatron stopped in his tracks and snapped around, anger seeping from his eyes. “Do not. Shout.”

“What, will it make the walls collapse? Or is it bad luck or something? You ‘Cons are so superstitious.”

They stood in silence for what felt like an eternity before Megatron resumed his pace. “I do not believe in luck.”

Megatron had taken only a couple more steps before stopping again. “Do you hear that?”

Optimus strained his audio receptors. “It sounds like something’s tapping on the rocks.” He looked around the tunnel, barely noticing the holes bored into the walls. The sound was coming from them, and getting louder.

Suddenly, a creature resembling a translucent white isopod about half of Prime’s size launched out of an opening straight towards him. Before he could react, Megatron had sliced the giant bug in half, splattering it across the ground. Immediately, more began pouring out of the walls and ceiling.

“I think we walked right into a nest!” Optimus grabbed his axe, swinging it at his attackers. He dodged as best as he could, but his injury was severely hindering his movement. Megatron was faring much better, blasting and slicing his way through the fight.

Prime’s movements were getting slower and more erratic. The fatigue was setting in fast, and his prosthetic was really digging into his wound now, but he pressed on.

What few bugs remained finally retreated, frightened off. Both the tunnel and the bots were covered in gore, panting in exhaustion. Optimus suddenly felt extremely dizzy and stumbled back against the wall, the world around him tilting every which way. Running a systems check, he saw he was practically running on fumes, having taken damage in the fight. He looked down at his mangled stump of a leg and saw it was leaking heavily. Prime began hyperventilating as more error messages were popping up. The world started to spin, and he collapsed, vision blurring, then going black.

~~~~~~

Megatron walked briskly down the tunnel, annoyed with the little mech he carried. Had the Autobot not been so stubborn, he wouldn’t be dying right now. Whatever the case, he had to find an exit fast. Unicron appears to have been stopped for now, but it likely wasn’t a permanent solution, and Megatron most certainly did not want to be on this planet when He restarted his rampage.

He came to another cavern with several branching paths and stopped, unsure of which tunnel was the right one. He supposed this would be as good a time for a break as ever and sat down, leaning back on the cool wall, holding the Autobot. Prime twitched, causing him to look down. The little bot had been completely out after the last fight, barely hanging on. Megatron ran through every point where he could have left or killed Optimus. If Prime wasn't such a valuable bargaining chip, he probably would have.

Seeing him now, Megatron realized he had never really gotten a good look at Prime’s face. There was never really that chance since most of their prior meetings involved fighting. The Autobot was always flying around on his grappling hooks, running around Megatron’s ankles, or had his battle mask on. Megatron couldn’t help noticing how soft his features were. His round cheeks, full lips, and gently curved finials held a certain pleasant visual quality.

Prime stirred, whimpering, a pained expression on his face as he slowly onlined his optics and looked up at the mech holding him.

“Hey, Prowl. What are you doing here?” Optimus giggled, completely out of his mind.

How was Megatron supposed to respond to this?

“Haven’t seen you since…since….” Optimus stumbled over his words, his frame moving with shallow breaths. “It-It’s been a lot. You offlined and…and…nothing’s been going right, Prowl.” His venting became more sporadic. “Everything’s falling apart. The ‘Cons you worked so hard to capture got away, and now…now Cybertron’s going to be destroyed. I-I don’t know *hic* how much longer I *hic* can keep this up.” He began choking up, hyperventilating. “I’m a failure, Prowl, maybe it’d be better if-if-if-” His systems overloaded, knocking him out again.

Megatron was at a loss. His enemy had just poured his spark out to a hallucination, completely forgetting who he was with. It was strange being caught up, an unintended participant, in such a vulnerable moment. He felt a slight pull under his chest plating as he got up and headed down the next tunnel, holding the Prime just a little tighter.

Chapter Text

Optimus onlined, clearing a few notifications from his HUD. As his vision came into focus, he found himself looking at the ceiling of a brightly lit room. He sat up with some difficulty, his body aching as he moved, but was happy to see he now had both legs. He looked around the room, noting the sterile white paneling, cabinets, and medical equipment. A medbay. Am I…alive?

A door slid open, and Ratchet walked in. He looked more tired than usual.

“Prime, you’re awake!” The medic smiled. “I almost thought you were a goner!” He started prodding and poking Optimus. “How do you feel? Anything hurt? Broken? Out of place?”

“A bit sore, but alive.”

“Good to hear. It’s been pretty busy around here, I haven’t been able to work on you as much as I’d’ve wanted to.”

“How long was I out for?”

“You were gone for about a day and out for another. You were hanging on by a wire when Megatron dragged you in here.”

Oh yeah. Megatron.

Ratchet continued, “We were just about to take off after Unicron was immobilized, but he practically kicked down the ship’s hatch. Dumped you in here, refused repairs, and left.”

Prime’s finials twitched. “What do you mean ‘immobilized'?”

“Apparently, those ‘Cons you were with finished arming the bomb right around when Unicron showed up. He pulled it up pretty quick, and once it was inside, we set it off. He shut down long enough for us to get out of there but finished off that rock pretty quick once he woke up. All we really did was make him mad.”

Ratchet finished up his examination. “Now get yourself to Deck 3, Ultra Magnus wants to have a talk.”

~~~~~~

Megatron stood in a small room, facing a holoscreen displaying the Autobot Council. Optimus was the last to arrive at the meeting, looking much better than the last time Megatron had seen him.

“Good to see you up and about, Optimus.” said Ultra Magnus. “I’d like to begin with a report from Cliffjumper to get you up to speed. If you would, Cliffjumper?”

“Sir!” The red mech on-screen saluted. “After Unicron was incapacitated, we were able to confirm his use of a cloaking system to avoid detection. We couldn’t gather much beyond that once he woke up, not that it matters at this point.”

“What do you mean? Where is he now?” Optimus took a step forward, a look of concern falling across his face.

“We’ve crossed back into Autobot space,” Cliffjumper replied hesitantly.

Prime’s eyes widened, his finials dropping.

“Rest assured, Cybertron had been made aware of the situation. Evacuation procedures have been initiated, and we are preparing to engage.” Ultra Magnus was remarkably calm given the current situation. “Furthermore, I have authorized Decepticon entry into our territory, following previously agreed upon terms.”

Cliffjumper squinted and side-eyed Megatron. He smirked, finding it amusing.

“Sir, the strongest weapon we could find barely scratched him.” There was a panicked edge in Prime’s voice, but one he was doing a good job of hiding.

“We’re doing what we can, Optimus. In the meantime, you will continue searching records for anything that could aid us.”

“Yes Sir.” Prime’s frame dropped slightly, his voice lowered. Something about it didn’t sit well with Megatron.

For the rest of the meeting, Megatron kept glancing over at Optimus, looking at the way his facial and body expressions changed throughout. He wasn’t sure why he kept doing it. Curiosity maybe?

“Continue as instructed. May our next meeting be under better circumstances.” Ultra Magnus ended the meeting, cutting off the video feed.

Megatron turned to leave. He had a busy night ahead of him and wanted to get a start on it.

“Hey.”

He stopped, surprised to hear Optimus address him.

“Thanks for saving me back there.”

Megatron stood for a second, thoughts flying through his processor, before turning to glare at the Prime.

“I did not do it out of the goodness of my spark, Autobot. Bringing you back alive is merely a token I can barter with.”

He walked out, an odd feeling lingering in his spark.

~~~~~~

Optimus sat alone in the ship’s mess hall, lit only by the glow of the datapads stacked by him. It was very late, and he knew he should be recharging, but he just couldn’t. He was far too anxious to sleep. He had to find answers. Everyone was counting on him, he couldn’t let them down. Finishing the pad in his hands, he picked up the next one and started to re-read it for the third time. The door on the other side of the room faintly hissed as it opened, not concerning Optimus enough to lift his eyes away from his literature. It only became a concern when the mech who walked in sat opposite him a few seats away.

“You’re up rather late.” Megatron’s raspy voice was unmistakable.

“What do you want?” Optimus didn’t look up from the tablet. His visitor didn’t deserve eye contact.

“I was out for a stroll and thought I would check on your progress.” Megatron wasn’t looking at him either. He was instead busy haughtily inspecting his fingertips. “It is quite an important task you have been assigned.”

“If I had anything I would’ve reported it.”

“There’s no need for attitude, Autobot.”

“Why do you even care?” Optimus finally put down the datapad, exasperated. “Why aren’t you off making some deal with Unicron, hm? I’m sure he’d love to have an aft like you as a lackey.”

The gray mech slowly turned to glare down at him. “Megatron bows to no one.”

“Then why are you here? Why sink so low as to ally yourself with Autobots? You must really be desperate.” Every word that came out was full of anger and frustration.

“If Cybertron is destroyed, what is there for the Decepticons to claim?”

“Oh, of course! Why else would you try saving Cybertron?!” Optimus stood, slamming his hands on the table. “You are the most insufferable, selfish bot I’ve ever met. Even with our species’ survival on the line, you only think about yourself!”

“I am thinking about the survival of my people!” Megatron stood, towering over Optimus, not that it was enough to deter the red bot.

Optimus climbed onto the table, now face to face with Megatron.

“You are the most egotistical, selfish, uncaring bot I’ve ever had the misfortune of knowing. Once this is all over, I hope you get exactly what you deserve. Now leave me alone.” Prime walked off the table and out the door, leaving behind his datapads and a silent, fuming Megatron.

~~~~~~

Optimus couldn’t sleep after his argument with Megatron, his mind racing through every word. Had it been anyone else, he could’ve kept his cool, but the Decepticon’s presence alone was enough to get his fuel lines boiling. As much as he respected the truce, he couldn’t deny that punching Megatron would be cathartic. And the datapads. He practically had those stories memorized by now, but there was nothing he could use. Primus is all that stood a chance against Unicron, but what’s he supposed to do, go track down a god? He lay on the recharge slab in his cramped quarters, staring at the ceiling. What should I do? What can I do?

A forceful knock on the door shook his processor clear. Optimus opened it, finding the one bot he didn’t want to see on the other side.

“Follow me.” Megatron didn’t sound angry, but Optimus was hesitant to obey.

“No, why would I?”

“Do you want to prevent Cybertron’s destruction?” Megatron knew just where to hit Optimus. Of course he wanted to keep Cybertron safe. Begrudgingly, Optimus followed him to the shuttle bay.

“Where are we going?” They boarded a small shuttle. Optimus was almost certain this was some elaborate excuse to get rid of him ‘on accident.’

“To my ship, Autobot.”

Yep, he was dead.

The Revenge had been following their ship closely on the port side, so the trip was mercifully short. The halls inside were huge, bigger than anything Optimus had seen on a ship before. If he’d had his jetpack, he could have easily flown through them without touching the walls. Megatron led him down the winding, empty corridors, coming to a stop before a large door. It opened into a small office-like space lined with bookshelves.

“Is this…a library?”

“My private study. I have a collection of literature you Autobots don’t have access to. Perhaps your search will yield something here.”

Optimus was awestruck. He was standing in a room of illegal books, and it was all at his disposal. No, focus! But it was all so tempting.

He looked around at some of the titles. “Eons on Andellor, The Ballad of Solus Prime, Primus and You: A Guide to Self-Actualization?”

“I don’t believe I’ve read that one yet.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

As Optimus gazed around the room like a tourist at a shiny landmark, Megatron took a half-step out the door before turning back towards the mesmerized Prime.

“You are a guest aboard this ship, Autobot, I expect you to act like it. I will be back in four hours. You are to report any findings then.”

With that, Optimus was left alone, free to read. He grabbed a few datapads and a couple organic books, and hopped into the large chair, placing an elbow on the desk to prop up his head. He had calmed down by now and began dozing off. Prime tried desperately to keep his optics open to no avail, and soon fell into a deep recharge.

~~~~~~

Optimus woke up and, checking the time, saw it was already morning. Megatron should’ve been back by now, but there was no indication he’d come by yet. He hopped off the chair and stretched, feeling rested for the first time in a while. His tanks ached, reminding him that he had forgotten to eat at all the previous day. Checking his subspace, he was disappointed to find he had no emergency energon. Should I go out and look for a cafeteria? Probably a bad idea going out alone into a ship full of bots who probably wanted to kill him. Maybe if I’m careful? I’m pretty small, I could hide easily in a place this size. Staying in the room would be the smart choice, but his tanks won over his brain. Optimus took a deep breath to steady his nerves and stepped into the hall.

He walked quickly, tuning his audials to even the most minute sound. He didn’t want to be caught alone on a Decepticon ship. As he continued, two large shadows appeared on the wall, moving towards him. Their conversation was so loud he didn’t even need to strain to listen.

“I don’t care that you mud race, Breakdown, I just think that a polishing every once in a while could be good for you!”

“I know, I know. I just feel bad, you spend so much time and nice products on me, and I just get it covered in dirt the next day.”

“Oh, come now, you know I don’t mind. Besides, you ought to look your best when you crush your opponents.”

Optimus looked around frantically. The hallway was conveniently clear of hiding places. Of all the times to be on a clean ship. The door frames were narrow, but it would have to do. He pressed himself inside the nearest one, praying he wouldn’t be noticed.

“Well, if you really insist, I’ll-... Hey Knockout, check this out! It’s one of those Autobots!” The blue and silver mech knelt down, cornering Optimus in the door frame.

Optimus was deciding whether he could make a run for it when the other bot, a shiny red mech, spoke. “Leave it alone, it might have rust or something.”

“But he’s so cute! Look! He’s almost the same shade of red as you!” The blue mech bent down to level with Prime’s height and tried gently poking him. “Where’d you come from, little guy?”

Optimus weighed his options: try running and probably be caught again, or answer the mech’s question? He seemed friendly enough. “I uhh… Megatron brought me here last night. I was looking through some books in his office and got a bit hungry.”

“Well that’s perfect! We’re headed to the canteen right now!”

“It’s not coming with us, Breakdown.”

Optimus was cautious, but the blue mech at least didn’t feel like a threat. He had to walk fast to keep up, but it was a slower pace than following Megatron.

“So what’s your name, little guy?”

“I’m Optimus Prime.”

“Great to meet you, Optimus! You probably heard, but I’m Breakdown, and this is my conjunx, Knockout.” Leaning down, Breakdown did his best to whisper, “He’s usually not this grumpy, he just found a scratch on his paint job earlier-oof!” Knockout playfully elbowed his partner, wanting to keep frowning but unable to.

Optimus regretted his decision as soon as they walked into the mess hall. The room was full of big, rowdy Decepticons, yelling and throwing things.

“Hey Optimus!” He froze in his tracks, feeling every eye in the room turn towards him. Who here could possibly know me? To his surprise, he saw Tailwind near the left wall, excitedly waving to him. Optimus and his companions joined him. Apparently, Breakdown knew some of the bots at the table already.

“Heeyy Tailwind,” Prime muttered awkwardly. “How uhh…How’ve you been?”

“Oh, pretty good, pretty good,” the silvery mech replied. “Finally got released from prison, so that’s been nice.”

The room was nearly silent. These bots didn’t look too thrilled at the presence of an Autobot. Optimus suddenly felt very small. These bots definitely know who I am.

“Hey, Autobot, lose your handler?”

“What’s it doing here? How’d it get on the ship?”

The muttering and heckling were making Prime panic. He started to get up to leave when Tailwind spoke. “Aww, what’s the rush?” He slid a cube of energon across the table, “Stay a while, I wanna catch up!”

“You want to talk to me?” Prime was surprised to hear that. “Kinda figured you wouldn’t like me all that much since we locked you up and interrogated you to a breaking point.”

“Are you kidding? You were the nicest interrogator I’ve ever had! Anyway, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be on your own ship?”

“Megatron brought him here, to read books or something!” Breakdown was really loud in the tense silence.

Tailwind looked confused. “Ok, I’m gonna need a little more inf-”

The door to the mess hall burst open, revealing an angry Megatron. Seeing their leader, the Decepticons stood at attention, being dismissed with a wave of his hand. He looked at Optimus, who had remained seated.

“Why are you not in my library? I do not recall giving you permission to leave.”

“Didn’t realize I needed permission.” Optimus focused on his drink, swirling it around.

“You are on my ship, you abide by my rules.”

“You said you’d be back to check my progress in four hours. I fell asleep for eight and hadn’t been woken up, so I went out to get some fuel. Is that really so wrong of me?” Optimus intentionally spoke as sarcastically as possible. He could tell it annoyed Megatron.

“You are here to do a job, Autobot. You will return to your post immediately.”

“I think I’ll finish my fuel first.” Optimus sipped his drink, feeling Megatron’s eyes burning holes into him. The gray mech turned and walked out without saying another word.

The Decepticons were stunned at what they had just witnessed.

“You-you just talked back to Megatron. And he didn’t threaten you with any punishment?!” Tailwind was practically jumping out of his seat with excitement.

“You refuse to work and don’t get put on hull cleaning duty?! Teach me your ways!” Breakdown grabbed Optimus by the shoulders and shook him. He had clearly been through that cycle a few times.

“Strange, I usually have a cannon pointed at my face when I so much as exist near him.”

“The only other bots I’ve seen not be threatened with the worst chores for talking back are the higher-ups, his closest circle. You must’ve done something right.” The other Decepticons seemed to murmur in approval.

What could I have possibly done right? All I’ve done is humiliate and defeat him a few times.

“Guess so.” Optimus took another sip of his drink. “In all seriousness, I should get back to reading.” But not until I rub Megatron’s face in this a little more.

~~~~~~

Megatron had returned to the bridge after his confrontation with Optimus. He both despised and respected the Prime’s attitude. Few would dare speak so to him, but Optimus was quite forward. Sure, it bruised Megatron’s ego, being sassed like that in front of his troops, but he dared say it was refreshing to have such a witty opponent again. He chuckled at the thought.

At that moment, Shockwave entered to give a report. “Ship operations are running smoothly, my Liege. Fuel levels are acceptable, ration stores have been inventoried, and Unicron has shown no change in his path. Has the Autobot had any luck?”

“No Shockwave. In fact, he has been ignoring his responsibilities purely to spite me.”

“He is rather headstrong. An irritating quality, to be sure, but one fitting a bot of his background.” The purple mech paused briefly, looking at his boss. “You let him rest.”

“I did.”

“May I ask why, Lord Megatron?”

He paused, unsure of an answer. Why hadn’t he just woken the Autobot?

“Recharge is an important component of completing tasks with speed and efficiency. The sooner he finishes, the better it is for us.”

“Of course, Lord Megatron. I will take my leave.”

Megatron went back to looking at reports but couldn’t focus. His mind kept wandering to his and Prime’s recent confrontations. Soon, he found himself thinking back to the previous night. He had gone back to check on the Autobot when he said he would, but upon seeing him sleeping, couldn’t bring himself to wake the mech. Megatron knew Optimus had an important task laid out before him, but he looked so at peace as he recharged, his face relaxed and nestled in his arms, frame gently moving as he vented. He had found himself extending a hand towards the sleeping bot, retracting it quickly once he realized what he was doing. What were my intentions? Had I meant to wake him? Or perhaps attack him? The two hated each other, that was well known, but neither could do anything due to the new treaty. It hadn’t quite felt like hatred, though. Curiosity perhaps? But what about? Had I been reaching out to touch him? His mind flashed to when he had carried an incapacitated Prime through the mine tunnels. Something about his vulnerability, small frame, and soft features tied a knot in Megatron’s chest in both circumstances. It must be some repressed urge to fight that damned Autobot, or perhaps some underlying medical issue.

Megatron pushed the thoughts back, returning to his work. He set a reminder to schedule a checkup with his medic later.

Chapter Text

Optimus was back on the Autobot ship, anxiously waiting for Ultra Magnus to answer his request for an emergency Council meeting. After many anxious minutes of waiting, the Council, and Megatron, appeared on screen.

“Optimus, have you had any luck in your research?”

“Yes Sir, I’ve been going through Megatron’s collection, and I found a few religious texts claiming Primus created the Allspark. We already knew it had the potential to be used as a weapon; we were just missing that connection!” Prime was beyond excited at his findings. Finally, things might be looking up! “Even if it’s not Primus Himself, maybe his creation could be effective!”

“The Allspark no longer exists, if you recall, it was unfortunately shattered during your time on Earth.”

“Yes Sir, but we were able to somewhat reconstruct it and bring it back with us.” A lump grew in his throat at the memory. He swallowed, doing his best to ignore it. “We may still be able to use it. One poem from The Lament for Primus, in particular, stood out to me in this regard.

‘In sorrow and plight, in darkest night,

A spark of hope our cries ignite.

Though it may flicker and may fade

Our enemies all it will abate.

And should the shadows win the fight,

Our darkest hour it shall light.’

“Even if it’s broken, Sir, it sounds like the Allspark was meant to protect Cybertron in Primus’ absence.”

Ultra Magnus thought for a moment. “It’s likely its power would be greatly diminished, but I don’t suppose we have much of a choice. Were you able to find anything else?”

“No Sir, that’s been everything.” Optimus had gone through every historical and religious text he could find with little progress. As quickly as he reached the high of success, he fell right back down.

“Very well. The Autobot science division will continue their tests on the fragments. In the meantime, I will have our fleet prepare to intercept Unicron to buy us time.” Ultra Magnus dismissed the meeting. Megatron and the Senators signed off, leaving the Magnus alone with the downtrodden Prime.

“Optimus, I need to speak to you privately. I want you to disregard my previous orders and prepare to receive the Allspark fragments aboard your ship. It will be sent under heavy guard on a small shuttle to avoid raising suspicions with the Decepticons; it should be arriving shortly. After you receive the package, you are to keep it on your person and secret. Upon confirmation of delivery, the Council will reconvene to give you further orders.” He paused and sighed. “I’m sorry to place such a burden on you, Optimus.”

Prime’s frame dropped in shock. “Sir, I…I don’t think I’m the right bot for the job.”

Ultra Magnus’ stoic mask broke. His face softened as he smiled. “I would not trust you with our most precious relic if I did not have the utmost faith in you, Optimus Prime.”

~~~~~~

Optimus had gone straight to the shuttle bay to meet the new arrivals in private, as per Ultra Magnus’ concerns. The hatch opened, and out stepped three Elite Guardsmechs, followed by a lean, blue bot.

“Blurr! It’s great to see you. You’re looking…better.”

“Well, I would certainly hope so! Being crushed into a cube is about as low as you can get! Thankfully that small half-organic friend of yours was able to fix me up, and in the nick of time too, I wake up and find out the Decepticons escaped and Cybertron is going to be destroyed, and immediately get sent on a mission. My apologies for rambling, Sir!” Blurr snapped to attention, saluting. “I’ve been tasked with delivering a special package to aid in our current fight. I have instructions to guard both it and you until the need to use the weapon presents itself! Of course, that’s up to Ultra Magnus, and who knows when or how or what he’ll tell me to do with it, and what if I have to be around Decepticons, oh what if he’s there, I don’t know if I could-”

“Blurr! Blurr, hey, it’ll be fine.” Optimus tried his best to calm the anxious speedster.

Blurr took a deep breath, steadying his systems. “My apologies Sir, it’s been a lot to take in in such a short time, but I’ll not push it off any further!” The blue bot ran back into the ship and was back in the blink of an eye, holding a rectangular box. “If you would do the honors, Sir.”

Prime gently opened the lid, revealing the Allspark fragments inside the Matrix he’d brought back from Earth. He paused, watching the pulsating glow, before picking up the Matrix and examining it. The chain he’d used to wear it last time was gone. After a moment of flipping it around in his hands, he opened his chest, placing the object inside.

“Safe and sound.” Optimus tapped his windshield.

“Delivery complete, Sir! May we be dismissed?”

“You don’t need my permission, you outrank me!”

Blurr sped back into his shuttle, the Elite Guard soldiers leaving the bay.

Optimus placed a hand on his chest, letting the weight of it all sink in.

“All personnel present to your stations. All personnel present to your stations. Prepare to engage.” The intercom repeated the phrase over a howling klaxon alarm as Optimus ran to a window. Looking out, he saw chaos. They had already entered the Hadean System and were closing on Cybertron fast. Ships and bots, both Autobot and Decepticon, were swarming around Unicron like flies, attacking him desperately. Explosions littered the surface like dying stars, lighting the void of space. They weren't dealing any significant damage, but it looked to be slowing him down at least a small bit. Turrets on his shell were firing back with concerningly good aim, blowing their targets to dust.

“Kid, where are you?!” Ratchet’s voice rang over Prime’s comm. As panicked as it was, it was a welcome distraction.

“I’m in the shuttle bay! I’m heading up to the bridge right now!”

A cannon blast ripped through the hull, depressurizing the room and flinging Optimus out into space. He was lucky to catch on a piece of another destroyed ship, easily righting himself in the zero gravity environment. Looking around, there were no nearby vessels he could flag down.

“Why in Primus’ name are you out here?!” Megatron’s voice shot through his comm, a mix of confusion, surprise, and irritation. The mech flew over, stopping next to Optimus, his face a perfect reflection of his tone of voice.

“Fighting! What does it look like I’m doing?!”

“Failing is more accurate. Get back to your ship!” Megatron grabbed Prime’s arm and started pulling him in that direction.

“No! I have to get to Unicron.”

“What?! Why would you want to get closer to that thing?!”

The two continued to argue as Megatron dragged him towards the ship, but their debate was cut short when they realized they were being pulled backwards. Unicron had finally lost his patience with the gnats flying around him. This is not what I meant, this is not what I meant! Optimus’ mind flashed to the last time he’d almost been consumed. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’ll be fine, everything will be ok, I have to figure something out! Last time they’d had a bomb, but were now at the mercy of chance. Prime frantically swung his head around, looking for anything useful, anything that could get him out of this, but found nothing. He was so close to Unicron now he could see his paneling and the turrets firing on any ships lucky enough to avoid his pull. He was practically over the rim of the glowing pit when Megatron grabbed him, pulling Optimus close to his frame. Even if it was his worst enemy, it felt nice to not be alone in his final moments.

~~~~~~

Ratchet had been trying to get ahold of Optimus since the hull breach to no avail. He feared the worst had happened to the poor bot, but he couldn’t abandon his duty to go out and look for him.

The ship was in disarray. Bots were busy fixing damage, searching outside for survivors, and holding emergency meetings with Cybertron. Unicron had ceased firing and continued ahead, leaving behind a trail of carnage and a few intact ships. A good number of bots had been found and brought to the medbay, and, to Ratchet’s ire, many of them were Decepticons. He was working on one such individual, a large black mech with yellow accents, welding his wounds shut. The bot was wide awake and in surprisingly high spirits given how he was missing an arm. Ratchet listened in as his patient chatted with an Autobot next to him.

“Hey. Nice paint job.”

“Not too bad yourself.” The red mech on the next berth over was missing a good chunk of his face, and the rest of his frame was badly torn and shredded.

“Name’s Deadlock.”

“Rodimus.”

“Nice work, taking all that blaster fire.”

“You’ve clearly mastered the art of swinging around your detached limb at nothing.”

“Wanna hang out later?”

“Hell yeah.”

Ratchet rolled his optics. These ‘Cons were getting awfully friendly with the Autobots, and that rubbed the old bot the wrong way. But, like it or not, he had to fix them up.

After finishing up with the chatterboxes, Ratched got cleaned up and stepped into the hall. He tried calling Optimus again but was met with static, same as every other time. He leaned against the wall and sighed. Where are you, kid? He rubbed his face, collected himself, and went back to work.

“-racing out in the country, I passed this big open field full of cows. I’d never seen one in person before, so I just had to stop and look at em, but they looked friendly, so I hopped the fence and tried to pet one, but it ran away, and I chased it for a bit, but then-” Ratchet was relieved to hear Bumblebee was awake. The yellow bot had been on another ship caught in the crossfire, but had only sustained a head injury and a few dents. The unwilling listener in this one-sided conversation, Blitzwing, hadn’t been so lucky. He was missing a wing and a good chunk of his lower right body. A piece of shrapnel had severed his cranial stem, leaving him paralyzed. He lay silent, probably wishing he could be anywhere else while another medic worked on restoring his movement.

“-it reminded me of this video game I played a lot with Sari back o- Ratchet!” Bumblebee propped himself up shakily.

“Easy there, don’t get too excited. Your cranial plate is still healing.”

“Haha, yeah, sorry about that. Guess I’m pretty good at breaking it after all.”

“I can’t be mad at you, it wasn’t your fault this time. But if you rip that weld open, I’ll give you a what-for!”

“Cool your circuits, docbot, I’ll take it easy.” Bee shifted into a more comfortable seated position. “How are the others doing? Where’s Optimus? I thought he was on this ship.”

“I’m sorry, kid.”

Ratchet had never seen Bumblebee so still or quiet for this long.

“But…But it’s Optimus. He’ll be fine, right? He-he’s been through some rough stuff before. Maybe we just haven’t found him yet!”

Ratchet’s spark wanted to believe Prime was somewhere out there, but his processor told him it was a lost cause. He should tell the truth. He couldn’t get a hold of Optimus, and no one had picked up his spark signature. It’s true Optimus had survived incredible odds before, but when does luck run out?

The medic sighed, looking away from Bumblebee. “Yeah. Maybe.”

~~~~~~

Megatron had only seconds to act. Unicron’s pull was much weaker once they crossed the rim, but it took all his strength to break free of it, launching himself over the bubbling smelting pool below into a small passage. It was a hard landing, but better than being dissolved alive. He got up, panting, and realized he was still clutching Optimus. The little bot was overheating, frantically venting, and face buried in Megatron’s chest.

Megatron loosened his grip, and Optimus slowly started to move.

“What…Where?..”

“Inside Unicron.” Megatron bent forward, allowing Optimus to find his footing before fully letting go. He walked to the opening of the tunnel and looked around. The ledge they were on was slightly above the pool. The two looked down in horror as debris and now unrecognizable, screaming bots were rapidly dissolved and fused together before finally going silent. The look of horror on Prime’s face was gut-wrenching.

“We can not leave the way we came, we will just be pulled back in. Perhaps this tunnel connects to another exit.” Megatron turned away from the liquifying mass and walked into the darkness of the passage.

“Wait.” Prime’s tone had changed. There was a coldness to it Megatron had never heard before.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I can’t leave. I have a mission to complete.”

Megatron recalled their earlier argument. “What do you intend to do?”

“I’m going to kill Unicron.”

“And how, pray tell, do you plan to do that?”

Optimus swallowed. He didn’t want to mention the Allspark, given his current company. “I need to get to his spark chamber.”

Chapter Text

Optimus trudged through the low, narrow tunnel. He had managed to convince Megatron to go along with him after much bickering and sass, although neither really knew where they were going. This passage seemed to go on forever, winding around at odd angles and narrowing to a crawl in places. The deeper they went, the more irregular and uneven the walls became. As he walked, Optimus listened to the sounds the giant made. He could hear the groan of straining metal, the rush of flowing liquid, and a muffled, steady sparkbeat from somewhere deep inside. The sounds might have been relaxing had he been literally anywhere else. They continued walking, and the passage soon widened drastically. Optimus felt something odd under his pede and looked down. All around him, the tunnel was blanketed in a tangle of cables of various sizes. His plating prickled. Something felt off. His tanks flipped as he remembered what happened the last time he’d been in a similar place and kept his eyes fixed on the cables, anxiously looking for anything out of the ordinary, making sure to step gingerly. Optimus wasn’t sure if it was the anxiety or what, but he swore he saw some of the cables slowly-

“Watch out!” Optimus sprang up, slicing a few cables that had launched down towards them. One shot up from the ground and managed to grab him, coiling around his frame and constricting him to the point of denting. As he struggled against it, Megatron cut through it, dropping him to the ground.

“Come on!” Megatron helped him up, fending off more wires. They turned to run but found the tunnel walled off by their attackers.

“Looks like we’ll have to fight our way out.” Optimus gripped his axe and Megatron his swords as they stood back to back.

The cables shot towards them, resuming the battle. Optimus flipped through the air, slicing away, launching himself off the walls to cut a thick rope of cables aiming for Megatron. His venting started to become more shallow, but these things just kept coming. He narrowly dodged the sword cutting in front of his face, spinning to avoid it. As he continued swinging at the assailants, Megatron blasted through the wall of cables blocking the exit, grabbed Prime’s arm, and ran.

They paused to catch their breath once they were far enough. Optimus was especially out of breath, having just had to keep up with a running Megatron.

“What is that?” Megatron’s tone made Optimus straighten up to look around. There was nothing of note but a blue glow coming from his chest. Looking down, Optimus saw his windshield was broken and missing pieces, exposing the Matrix he had been keeping inside.

“It’s…part of the mission.”

After what felt like forever, Megatron looked away and continued walking. Optimus followed cautiously, aware of his guide’s history with the Allspark. Megatron now knew the object of his desires was quite literally within reach, so he’d have to be extra vigilant. The sparkbeat he heard got louder as they moved closer to their target.

~~~~~~

Ultra Magnus stood on the bridge of the Steelhaven, looking out the windows to Cybertron, evacuation still in progress. Unicron was now visible, moving closer with each passing second. Evacuation was running behind schedule, a heavy knot growing in his chest as he contemplated the impending fate of the remaining ships. The blue mech sighed. He had been informed earlier of the battle and Optimus’ disappearance, and with him, any hope of saving their home. As he stood watching, a call came in from one of the surviving ships.

“Ultra Magnus, Sir!” He was relieved to see the blue Intel bot on-screen.

“Agent Blurr, to what do I owe your presence?”

“Requesting permission for a final attack, Sir!”

Ultra Magnus was taken aback. “To what end, Agent? Our previous attempts did little to deter Unicron. What would this accomplish?”

“Surviving company has reached a near-unanimous decision, Sir. If this is the end, we would like to go out with one last fight. Maybe we could buy time to get the remaining civilians to a safe distance.”

Ultra Magnus thought for a moment before answering, “Permission granted.”

Blurr signed off, leaving the Magnus to think. One final attack. He turned to his crew, having made up his mind.

“Prepare to engage. We make one final stand on the doorstep of Cybertron.”

~~~~~~

Despite the circumstances, Bumblebee was having the time of his life. After receiving the go-ahead from Ultra Magnus, he’d sped to the weapon storeroom to grab a blaster but found something even better: a hoverboard. He was flying literal and metaphorical circles around Unicron, blasting the turrets on his surface. Countless other ‘Bots and ‘Cons were out in one last attempt to slow down the World-Eater, knowing it might be the last thing they did. Bee ducked and wove through the crevices in Unicron’s shell, dodging his attacks.

“Hey, quit stealing my thunder!” He comm’d the blue Starscream clone who had shot a turret he’d been aiming for.

“Puny Autobot! It is all part of my master plan to- oh, I like that, Thunder has a nice ring to it. My new designation will strike fear into the sparks of- no, that sounds incomplete. I need to add something more.”

He continued to ramble and flew off in a different direction as Bee zoomed upwards, having reached the end of this particular crevice. Glancing around, he saw a few Autobots using Decepticons like surfboards, standing on their backs as their ride flew around, letting them shoot freely and easily. As much as he was enjoying his hoverboard, Bee had to admit saddling a ‘Con looked pretty fun. He skimmed across the surface, blasting more turrets as he went, and saw Blitzwing not too far from him. Oooh, I can use this.

“Hey, Blitzbrain!” He pulled up next to the Decepticon. “Bet you can’t blow up more of these things than me, you lunkhead!”

Blitzwing’s face spun around to his angry personality. “Oh, it’s ON, Autobot. I vill crush you like ze insect jou are!”

Bee zoomed around, shooting everything he could. He was loving the competition, admitting to himself that maybe Blitzwing was almost as good a shot as him. Almost.

“I got fifty, you ugly mug!”

“Sixty, Autobot!”

This just wouldn’t do. Bumblebee picked up his speed, taking out ten more targets in seconds.

“Ha! How do you like that!” As Bumblebee was gloating, he saw panels start to move. He flew up to get a better view and watched in horror as Unicron began to transform.

The attacks ceased as everyone pulled back and watched as the planet’s surface changed. Two giant arms folded out from Unicron’s sides, his legs extended, and head rose up. He wasted no time in reaching out towards Cybertron and smashing his palm into its surface with such force it sent shrapnel into orbit.

Bumblebee was frozen in terror, his mind blank. He knew this was a likely outcome, but actually seeing it happen was unreal. The home he’d known for most of his life was being ripped apart right in front of his eyes.

Despair turned to rage, and he blasted full speed at Unicron. Bumblebee knew whatever he did wouldn’t matter, nothing would stop this destruction, but he couldn’t just stand by. His stingers predictably did nothing, but he blindly kept shooting. A volley of blasts came from behind him, stopping Bee in his tracks. Looking around, the other bots and ships he’d been with had resumed their attack. One bot was nothing, but this many were enough of a nuisance to distract Unicron. The giant swatted at the specks buzzing around his face, but was easily outsped. Someone landed a lucky shot on one of Unicron’s optics, causing him to reel back, attention now fully on his assailants.

Bumblebee felt a rush of renewed excitement as he watched before flying off to continue the fight. Maybe they could turn this around somehow. At least the remaining refugees had a chance now.

~~~~~~

Optimus was nearly deafened by the creaking metal as the tunnel began to shake. He didn’t know what was going on outside, but he was sure it wasn’t good.

“We have to hurry.” He transformed and sped off down the passage, certain Megatron could keep up with him, even on foot. Optimus saw a faint red glow up ahead. He hoped his assumption was right as he rounded the corner into an enormous, spherical cavern. Suspended in its center was a giant spark chamber, a red spark pulsating inside it, shaking Prime’s frame with every beat. Megatron joined him shortly, taking in the sight.

Optimus took a step onto an extended platform, intending to get closer when a security system activated. Blasters fired, and cables grabbed at the bots. The whole room was violently shifting around, throwing Optimus off-balance. What in Primus’ name is going on out there?!

“GO! I will provide cover.” Megatron flew around with ease, blasting and slicing away at the threats. Optimus found his footing and opened his chest panel, only to take a blast to the face from Unicron’s defenses. He fell backwards, the Matrix flying out of his chest, and skittered across the floor, teetering on the edge of the platform before tipping over into the dark void below. Optimus sprang to his feet, ready to jump after it, when Megatron rose up, holding the Matrix. Scrap. Megatron finally had the Allspark, the one thing he’d been after for millennia. Optimus panicked at the thought, fully prepared to fight Megatron for the relic, but was shocked when Megatron shoved it back into his hands.

“Hurry!”

Prime didn’t hesitate. He ran to the edge of the platform, extended his arms, and…the Matrix wouldn’t open.

“What are you waiting for?!” Megatron shouted, slicing through a cable as Optimus stared at the thing in his hands.

“I-I can’t do it.” Why won’t it work? Am I doing something wrong?

“Quit your complaining, and get this over with!”

“I-I’m trying, but something’s wrong!” His frame slumped as he lowered the Matrix. “I was right, Ultra Magnus shouldn’t’ve trusted me with this.”

“Oh shut up! You are one of the most bizarrely competent bots I have met. Right now, you are Cybertron’s only chance of survival, so figure something out!”

Being called competent by Megatron, of all bots, was quite the compliment. Optimus thought back to his victories; he’d taken a repair crew and shaped them into heroes, saved Detroit from Megatron countless times, and saved Cybertron from him too. He’d done well, he knew that, so what was holding him back? I want to save my friends, my home, my people. He tightened his grip on the Matrix and closed his eyes in concentration. I don’t know if I’m truly worthy of you, but I need your help. Please. Please, help me.

Optimus felt a warmth rush through his frame as the Matrix clicked open, releasing a blinding blue glow. I ask you now to light our darkest hour! The light engulfed the room, seeping into Unicron’s spark. It swirled, fighting for control, before overtaking the red mass and releasing a soft wave of energy, extinguishing his life force. Unicron thrashed about, knocking Optimus over the edge, the flickering glow of the Matrix fading into the dark abyss below. To his surprise, Megatron scooped him up and dropped him back on the shifting platform. He didn’t need to wait for instructions as he transformed and sped down the tunnel they came from, followed by Megatron. The walls were bending and caving in, flooding the passage with energon. Optimus pressed on, spark racing. The bots came to a screeching halt as the walls constricted in front of them, blocking their way. Megatron grabbed Prime’s arm, dragging him through a tear in the surrounding metal seconds before the passage collapsed.

They were in freefall, the pitch black of this empty cavity periodically lit by explosions as Unicron’s body failed. Megatron held on to Prime’s arm and, picking a direction, flew as fast as he could. Unicron’s frame rumbled as the two flew upward towards the biggest brain module either had ever seen. Megatron fired off a blast through a green, opaque window at the end of a bundle of optic cables, making it out and just barely avoiding the worst of the initial explosion. Optimus looked back at the being, watching as he swelled and exploded. A massive shockwave rippled out and knocked them off-course, sending them spinning towards the surface of Cybertron.

Prime’s systems were overloading with panic, cluttering his HUD with error messages and alerts. He tumbled uncontrollably, his frame heating up from reentering Cybertron’s sparse atmosphere. This felt all too close to when his team had crashed on Earth, their ship damaged and in flames, barely avoiding a catastrophe. Moreso, this felt like his first battle with Starscream. The memory of the frantic movement, uncontrolled fall, and his rapidly approaching doom were almost too much for his already overheating processor to handle. A chunk of metal hit his head, scrambling his thoughts and blurring his vision. The chaos made even less sense now. Optimus strained to refocus his optics. He couldn’t tell that the large, gray mass moving towards him wasn’t just another piece of debris.

A large hand halted his spinning, but the gravity was too strong now. Both he and the blurry shape of Megatron were helpless in the face of their impending fate. Optimus wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or panic more. Why does every one of my near-death experiences involve him? Prime’s vision cleared, his thoughts slowing as he looked at Megatron. There was something barely peeking through his chiseled frown as he moved to pull the small mech in. Time resumed its movement as Megatron flipped on his back, his frame shielding Optimus from the atmosphere’s scorching friction. The debris around them was engulfed in flame and trailing embers in its wake, Megatron shortly following suit. Optimus felt the air heating around them as the city below came faintly into view. The hot air shook them on reentry, Prime’s cooling system unable to keep up now. Pressure built behind his optics, and he prayed they would just crack already; it would at least be some relief from the pain. The ground was moving towards them faster with each passing second, the dark buildings and bright lights a mockery of the stars above them. Optimus pressed his eyes shut and braced for impact.

He felt every joint in his body crack as they came to a hard, abrupt stop. Optimus lay still in the newly formed crater, too scared to move, fearing he’d fall apart if he did. His audials were ringing, mixing with the dull roar of burning rubble falling from the sky. He wasn’t sure how long he was there for when he felt Megatron’s chest lurch as if coughing. Optimus managed to prop himself up with great difficulty and looked at the mech below him. Megatron’s frame was burnt and torn to shreds, still hot to the touch, and the mech himself was out, a hand loosely draped over Prime’s frame.

“Oh Primus.” Optimus’ entire frame screamed in agony as he tried to sit up. His processor and fuel pump started to race again as he searched for any sign of life in the mech who saved him. Megatron didn’t look like he was venting, but he’d just coughed, he must still be online, right? He reached for Megatron’s helm and tapped it with some force in hopes of jostling him awake. “Megatron? Megatron, wake up!” I know who he is, but I can’t lose another bot, not again. Not on my watch. Prime could feel his head spinning again but pushed through, desperate to stay conscious.

A faint red glow lit Megatron's optics as he slowly onlined, squinting. Turning his head to face Optimus was clearly a slow, painful ordeal for him. Optimus could see now that Megatron was missing half his face. It looked as bad as the rest of his frame. Now awake, the gray mech was venting, chest heaving from the effort and pain. He cracked a smile and gave Optimus a light, almost congratulatory, pat on the back. Optimus grinned back, strangely relieved to see Megatron alive, before his processor finally overwhelmed him, pulling him into emergency shutdown.

~~~~~~

Everything around him was dark. All Optimus saw was a small, brightly lit reboot request. He allowed it and felt a rush of pain and energon flow through him. His body spasmed as his optics onlined, but everything was a hazy mess blending together in a monochrome puddle. His audio receptors were damaged, as evidenced by the muffled cacophony around him. It sounded like he was underwater, but with significantly more high-pitched ringing. He tried to focus his optics, but it was a slow process. He desperately wanted to see what or who the shapes moving around him were. Things slowly came into view, and though still quite fuzzy, Optimus could tell he was once again in a brightly lit medbay. He felt the cool metal of the medical berth under his back and relaxed, letting it soak into his aching frame as he took in his surroundings. A spark stabilizer was positioned above his chest, holding him down, a few tubes and wires hooked up inside. He could make out the red and white of medics rushing around the room, attending to their patients. Optimus felt like he was floating, his head still spinning. Everything was so bright, sterile, and unclear. Is this…the Afterspark?

“Thank the Allspark, you’re awake!” A familiar, grouchy voice interrupted his thoughts.

Optimus strained his optics, realizing the figure in front of him was Ratchet. His expression was different from his usual tired frown. He still looked tired, but also relieved, happy, angry, and a mix of other emotions Optimus wasn’t in the right headspace to figure out.

“After the ship got blasted and we lost contact, we thought you’d-” the old bot cut himself off, not wanting to continue that thought. He sighed and squeezed Prime’s hand, a welcome gesture of comfort.

“Hey, Ratchet.” Prime’s voice was raspy and full of static. “Did…did it work? Is he…did we win?” It took all of his energy to get out that one choppy sentence. Optimus felt his vision blur again with a rush of energon pounding through his head.

“Yeah. I suppose we did.” Ratchet looked at him, his expression softening. “Get some rest kid, you’ve earned it.”

Optimus closed his eyes again and drifted into recharge, his mind eased with the knowledge that everything was as it should be.

Chapter Text

Optimus spent the next couple of weeks recovering at a hospital in Iacon. He watched the endless news coverage of the Unicron incident, relieved that Cybertron still existed but shocked at how much damage had been done. Vos, Praxus, and many smaller towns were taken out with one swipe, leaving behind a moon-sized crater, many other cities taking heavy damage from the ensuing shockwave. Countless smaller moons had been destroyed, and, of course, the Decepticons’ holdings were utterly decimated.

Optimus sat up on his medical berth and stretched, loosening his still achy joints. Everything that had happened now felt like just a bad dream, but one that was still fresh in his mind. He sat on the edge of his bed for a minute, lost in thought. A warm light streamed through the window on the opposite wall, illuminating the dancing specks of dust caught in its pale golden rays. A quiet hum came from all around, mingling with the sounds of tools and construction equipment outside. He stood, wobbling slightly, and walked to the window. Outside, repair crews were busy hauling away chunks of metal and crushed buildings, fixing what could be salvaged. Repairs were proceeding quickly, though Iacon had fared better than many other cities. He found himself wondering what had become of Megatron and his soldiers. There hadn’t been a word of them on the news or in his correspondence with Ultra Magnus. Megatron had been in a less-than-ideal condition the last time he’d seen him. A knock on the door halted his train of thought.

“Come in!”

“Optimus Prime?” A small medic stepped in, holding a datapad. Optimus wasn’t particularly well acquainted with First Aid, having only met in passing, but Ratchet seemed to have a soft spot for the little nurse. “You’ve been cleared for discharge. I have to fill out some paperwork so I’ll be back for you in a few minutes.”

Optimus gathered the Get Well Soon cards from his friends into his subspace, taking great care to keep them safe. First Aid returned to collect him, and the two left the medical wing to be greeted in the waiting room by a very eager Blurr.

“Optimus Prime, Sir!” The blue bot saluted. “A pleasure to see you up and functioning!”

“It’s good to see you too, Blurr.” They weren’t all that close, but Optimus admittedly enjoyed the bot’s company.

“Sir, I’ve been sent as your escort to the Council chambers! Ultra Magnus wishes to speak with you in person.”

Optimus wasn’t surprised. Ultra Magnus had been insinuating holding a meeting once he’d be able to attend, and it made sense he’d want to do it as soon as possible.

Optimus found it hard to keep up with the racecar; he sped down the damaged roads as if they were freshly paved. After many detours, they arrived at their destination, and Optimus made his way inside the familiar meeting room. He took his seat, again the last to arrive.

“Optimus, I congratulate you on a speedy recovery. It’s always a pleasure to have you here.” Ultra Magnus showed the slightest smile, barely perceptible, which wasn’t much but threw Optimus a little.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Now then, I would like to begin this meeting with a rather important matter. Cliffjumper, if you would, please?”

“Sir! We’ve continued to receive reports of Decepticons around the planet. We’ve been able to capture a lot of ‘em, but some have managed to get away.”

Optimus was shocked at the news. Why hadn’t he been told sooner?! Why hadn’t he noticed sooner? “How’d they get here? What are they doing? Are they attacking?”

“Well, that’s the weird part. Most of the ones we’ve found were helping with cleanup and construction.”

Optimus was in disbelief. Decepticons didn’t build, they destroyed. He had met some friendly ones, though, so maybe it wasn’t entirely impossible. “Were they…doing anything else?”

“Nope, just…fixing things.”

“Then, what’s the problem? Why not let them continue? They could be kept under supervision, as an extra workforce.”

“These rogue Decepticons pose a security risk, Optimus,” Ultra Magnus interrupted, clearly wanting to move on from the topic. “Your spark is in the right place, but leaving them to their own devices is dangerous. You know that.”

Prime knew the Decepticons were dangerous, so why was this exchange pricking his circuits?

“Sir, if they’re not being hostile, what right do we have to arrest them? I know we had an agreement to allow them into our space, but if it’s been nullified now that Unicron’s been destroyed, why not just send them back to Decepticon space instead?”

“This discussion is over, Optimus.”

The rest of the meeting was just another iteration of every previous one: dull and boring but technically important. Optimus knew he should be listening this time, as rebuilding and resettling Cybertron were of utmost importance, but he couldn’t shake his exchange with Ultra Magnus. The stoic bot was right, Optimus knew that, but were the Autobots’ actions really necessary in this case? Something about it just didn’t sit right.

The meeting adjourned, and Optimus chose to walk home. He had a lot to think about. He made his way down the street, observing the construction crews and volunteers clearing the damage as he wove through the sparse crowds of returning civilians trying to put their lives back together.

His attention was grabbed by a commotion across the street around which a not-insignificant crowd had gathered. A group of Autobots were in a standoff with a few Elite Guardsmechs, and it was escalating fast.

“I don’t slagging care what your rank is, you’re not takin’ him!” A red and orange bot stood between the soldiers and a large black mech. To Prime’s surprise, the black bot had a Decepticon insignia boldly displayed on his chest plate.

“Step aside, Rodimus Minor. This Decepticon is no longer your concern.” The soldiers raised their blasters slightly in a failed attempt at intimidation. The Decepticon just stood there, tense and uneasy.

“All he’s been doing is move rubble, he’s the strongest one here! Name me one thing Deadlock has done wrong and I will- HEY!” Rodimus was grabbed by one of the soldiers and shoved aside, stumbling to the ground. Optimus could have sworn he saw the mech’s frame glow in rage.

Deadlock raised his hands defensively and took a couple steps back as the soldiers moved towards him. “Hey now, I don’t want trouble. I’m just helping my buddy here fix some apartments. If there’s a problem, I can-”

“Can it, ‘Con.” The soldier jabbed his blaster at him. He turned to his partner and nodded his head towards the Decepticon. “Cuff him.”

His partner obeyed, activating a pair of stasis cuffs and reaching towards their intended target.

“I swear to Primus if you lay a servo on him I-AGH!” Rodimus tried to get up but was immediately shoved back down and surrounded at gunpoint.

“Look, I’ll go with you, just leave these guys alone.” Deadlock lowered his hands in surrender and held them out in front of his frame, ready to be arrested. The expression on his face was one of deep sadness and concern, not something Optimus would have expected to see from a bot like this.

“Aww, it thinks we’re giving it a choice.” The soldier scoffed as he cuffed the bot and pushed him into a cramped transport vehicle, driving off towards Trypticon prison.

Optimus had been too stunned to move. He felt he should’ve stepped in, but what could he have even done? He knew Deadlock wasn’t supposed to be here, but he wasn’t doing anything to deserve this treatment. Optimus hadn’t realized the crowd dispersed, and he was the only one left, Rodimus now silently facing him. They made brief, uncomfortable eye contact, Rodimus not shying from showing his anger, fear, and sadness.

Optimus crossed the road and continued home, his spark heavier and more uneasy than ever.

~~~~~~

Megatron shifted around on the medical berth. His condition had greatly improved since crashing into the surface of a planet, but he was still in rough shape. His larger joints would scrape when he moved, and sweet Primus, it was uncomfortable. His back plating was also incredibly sensitive, having to be almost entirely replaced, and his face had certainly seen better days. The welding seams all over his body stood out like fresh scars, slow to heal.

He’d been in stasis for a couple of weeks and woke up to an absolute mess. Shockwave, his second-in-command, had been busy coordinating ship repairs, running a survivor census, and assessing the astronomical damages. Megatron had wanted to get straight back to work upon waking, but Knockout had insisted he needed rest, saying the burdens of leadership, though heavy, did not outweigh the importance of his health. He knew his medic was right, but his people needed guidance right now, and Megatron felt like he was neglecting that duty. Even the condensed reports he was oh so generously allowed to read weren’t enough to make this feeling go away.

The cherry-red doctor entered, ready to start the next of what was sure to be many future examinations.

“How are we feeling today, my Liege?”

“Not much different from the last three times you asked.”

Knockout snickered at the response. He prodded and poked for a minute, taking note of every twitch.

“Mhm, mmhm. Well, this is against my better judgment, but I know you’re eager to get back to work, so I will allow you to take on some lighter duties. However, if I see you back here for anything other than a check-up, I will be very displeased.”

This news was a relief, lifting a massive weight off Megatron’s frame. He made his way up to the bridge of the Revenge and was greeted by Shockwave upon entering.

“Your return is most welcome, Lord Megatron, and quite timely, might I add.”

“Thank you, Shockwave. Now, I suppose you have more detailed reports for me?”

“Yes, my Lord, I have compiled every detail up to this point.” He handed Megatron a chunky, greenish datapad. “Shall I give a brief summary of events that have transpired since our last discussion?”

“Proceed.” Megatron flipped through the pad while his SIC relayed his most up-to-date report.

“Ship repairs are nearing completion sooner than expected, likely due to a lack of salvageable ships. Our most recent headcount has shown more survivors, though we estimate more may be unaccounted for. We’ve run into a slight problem in regards to this.”

“Oh?”

“Due to our considerable territorial losses and survivor count, fuel and energon consumption rates are higher than we can currently sustain. Resettling and feeding the remaining population in our territory may not be feasible.”

Megatron felt the energon freeze in his body before his systems kicked into overdrive, nearly overheating him. The rage, worry, and confusion were dangerously close to consuming him, but he had to keep a straight face.

The purple mech shifted awkwardly before continuing. “Regarding potential survivors, we’ve picked up faint Decepticon signatures on Cybertron. We fear they may be stranded or held prisoner.”

Megatron gripped the datapad, cracking it.

“Lord Megatron?”

The gray mech needed a moment to collect himself, or he feared he may lash out at his most loyal underling. It’s not like Shockwave was thrilled to deliver this news. He shouldn’t be punished for simply doing his job, much less one Megatron had requested of him. He clenched his jaw and took a deep vent in.

“Get me a frequency to contact Ultra Magnus. I have matters to discuss with him.”

~~~~~~

Optimus understood Council meetings would be more frequent now but daily seemed a bit much. Yes, rebuilding Cybertron was important, but nothing much really changed over such short periods of time. He had no reason to think this meeting would be anything more than the usual as he waited for the remaining Senators to arrive. He stared at the blank holoscreen in the center of the room, hand propping up his helm, tired from the near-constant running back and forth he’d been caught up in since leaving the hospital.

The meeting started as usual, with Perceptor and Cliffjumper reading off reports scrolling across the screen at a snail’s pace. Optimus was struggling to pay attention, unable to get the previous day’s event out of his processor.

The meeting was interrupted by a call request from the Intel division, which Ultra Magnus accepted. The small green femme on the screen looked troubled.

“Pardon the interruption, Senators, but we’re receiving a transmission from…um…Megatron requesting an audience. He doesn’t sound happy.”

When does he ever sound happy?

The room was a mix of reactions; some grumbled, others recoiled, some had no change. Ultra Magnus just sighed.

“Patch him through.”

After a few tense, silent moments, the shadowed figure of Megatron appeared, looming over the room. Optimus was certain he’d never seen Megatron angrier. It was a smoldering, silent aggression, radiating through the screen and seeping into the frame of every bot present. His optics blazed with rage, standing out harshly against his deeply shadowed face. Through what light was present, Optimus could see a raised welding seam running down and across Megatron’s face, disrupting his usual smooth, collected visage and leading into a heavy, furrowed brow. The main object of his ire was Ultra Magnus, who appeared unmoved.

“I understand some of my Decepticons are stranded on Cybertron.” Megatron’s voice was a low rumble, echoing through the Council chamber. The icy tone sent shivers over Prime’s frame. “Why have they not been returned to me?”

Megatron’s voice echoed in the cavernous room.

“Rest assured, they are in safe servos.” Ultra Magnus was still unphased by the oppressive atmosphere.

“You are avoiding my question. Where. Are They.”

“I assure you, there is no need for worry. They are being held at a secure facility with utmost care.”

“And I assure you, Ultra Magnus, that if any harm has come to them, a fate far less generous than Unicron shall fall upon those responsible.”

The atmosphere was thick enough to cut. Prime’s spark raced. The situation was escalating, and he feared it could turn ugly very fast.

“Your citizens will be returned in due time, Megatron. However, since they are so deep in Autobot territory, it is a matter of security to keep them away from the public.”

Optimus swore he saw a flicker in Megatron’s optics as the gray mech straightened his posture and leaned forward ever so slightly, still enraged but clearly had something up his sleeve. After a tense silence, he finally spoke.

“As part of our truce, Ultra Magnus, I recall you agreeing to grant me a favor at a time of my choosing. I believe I am ready to name my terms.”

“Proceed.”

“Due to recent events, my people have been displaced. They are in need of a place to settle down and rebuild. I require aid from you, and a refuge for them.”

“With all due respect, I-”

“Any Decepticons fortunate enough to be in your territory are to be freed and allowed to remain, should they wish.”

“Allow my Council a private discussion.”

Without much choice, Megatron was forcefully muted, and his video feed cut.

The Council sat in silence for what felt like hours, processing the situation, before Ultra Magnus finally spoke.

“His terms are far too steep.”

“I agree. But perhaps we could at least provide some aid. The Decepticons did help us after all.” Senator Botanica, though an infrequent speaker, was a welcome voice of reason.

Optimus felt uneasy about the whole situation. A favor should be repaid, but these were Decepticons. He thought back to what he’d witnessed the previous day and just how wrong it felt. Obviously, he didn’t know what Deadlock had done in the past, but he hadn’t been causing any trouble at the construction site; he’d been helping Autobots and being quite friendly, at that. He remembered Breakdown and Knockout and how willing they’d been to help him out, and Tailwind, who, despite his treatment in prison, had been nothing but kind to Optimus. Everything he’d known about Decepticons was in conflict with what he’d been through in the last few weeks. Of course there’d be good Decepticons, just as there would be bad Autobots. It was all so confusing. His processor raced as the Senators around him bickered, his audials too full of rushing energon to make out a single word.

“Could we at least release the prisoners?” Prime spat out the words before his brain could catch them.

The room fell silent at his outburst. All optics were now on him.

“I have already explained why that is not possible.” Ultra Magnus’ tone had the faintest hint of irritation at having to repeat himself.

“I know, Sir, but if we just send them back into Decepticon territory-”

“Optimus, they are dangerous criminals who put the safety of Cybertron at risk, whether they are free on Cybertron or in their own space.”

“But Sir, we have no right to keep them here!” Prime’s frame was heating, his fuel lines pumping furiously. “Regardless of who they are or what their intentions may be, they helped us! I agree we should be cautious, but what is this going to achieve?”

“That’s enough, Optimus.”

“You’re antagonizing Megatron, provoking him. Any further, and we risk possibly reigniting a war. Is that really something you want?!”

“Stand down, Optimus, you are out of line.”

“No!” Optimus didn’t know when he’d stood up, but he was now leaning forward, hands on the table, venting deeply. “This could be a chance to patch relations with the Decepticons, and you want to throw it away, and for what?! Because you think the stragglers will cause problems? All I’ve seen them do is help us. Help us destroy Unicron, help us rebuild, and sure, some of them are troublemakers, heck, a lot of them are war criminals, but don’t you dare sit here and pretend you’re any more innocent than them!”

The silence was deafening.

Optimus was suddenly aware of his position. He could feel every bit of silent judgment from the Senators, every tube and piston in his body, every speck of dust on his frame. His head spun, and his frame shivered in terror at what he’d just done.

The senators were frozen in shock, stunned at Prime’s boldness. Ultra Magnus’ facade was cracking, anger spilling from his optics as he glared at the offender. None dared speak as he closed his eyes and slowly stood, loudly exventing. With a wave of his hand, the screen lit back up, displaying a rather ticked-off Megatron. After a second, Ultra Magnus spoke.

“I am open to discuss your terms.”

Chapter Text

“I am open to discuss your terms.” Ultra Magnus was as hard to read as ever.

As annoying as it was to be shoved out of a meeting, Megatron was pleased at the outcome. He wondered if Prime had some part in it, given how tense the little bot looked, or perhaps he’d tried to talk Ultra Magnus down from accepting Megatron’s invitation. He couldn’t worry about that right now, though. He had another deal to make.

“I am pleased to hear that, Ultra Magnus.” A smug grin crept across his faceplate. “Have you had time to consider my initial proposal?”

“I have, and I am willing to negotiate. As it stands, your aforementioned terms essentially constitute a peace treaty. If you agree to this, we can proceed.”

Megatron knew he’d have to bend to the Autobots’ will if he continued, his fuel lines boiling at the thought. This, or really any, compromise would be a massive blow to his pride and likely the Decepticons’ freedom, but as far as he saw, it was his best option to ensure his peoples’ survival for the time being. “I suppose so.” He glanced over at Optimus, curious as to his reaction. The Prime had seated himself, optics wide as a full moon and staring off at nothing. An amusing sight, to be sure. “I don’t believe you would agree to my terms outright, however. What stipulations do you have?”

“Naturally. If you are able to, we can discuss it now. If there are any others you wish to bring into the discussion, you may do so.”

Oh how generous of you. This was going to be a painful process, and Megatron couldn’t and didn’t want to go it alone. Moments later, Shockwave joined him on-screen.

“Now then, Megatron, if you would restate your terms for the purpose of recordkeeping?”

Megatron took a deep vent in, attempting to calm himself. “I require the release of any Decepticons you are holding. They are to be allowed to remain on Cybertron, should they choose to do so, and will aid you in rebuilding your planet. All others are to be returned to Decepticon space unharmed. I will require aid in the forms of fuel and a resettlement effort.”

“Resettlement and energon supplies, I can provide, but releasing those in custody is a different matter. I am willing to release them to you once things have settled, but I can not allow them to roam free on Cybertron.”

“Their freedom is not negotiable. Either they are released, or any deal we may have is off. And do tell, what have my soldiers done on your ground to deserve such punishment?”

“Removing them from the public eye is a preventative measure to avoid panic and civil unrest.”

“If I may,” Botanica chimed in, “would it be feasible for those remaining on Cybertron to simply be monitored? Our security and military are extensive. Keeping an optic on them would be an easy matter. I don’t think reintegrating warframes into society would be impossible, but it would have to be gradual. Our civilians are rather wary of such individuals, and as Ultra Magnus pointed out, we would not want to incite a panic.”

“And what would this ‘monitoring’ entail, Senator?” Megatron didn’t like the thought of his missing soldiers having their every move watched. The very idea made him itch.

“The Decepticons would be allowed to go about as normal, however, should they cause trouble, they will be apprehended by law enforcement following close behind. From what I have been told, the majority have been aiding in our efforts to rebuild, and if this truly is the start of a peace between us, I believe it would be in good faith to allow them some freedom.” Botanica turned her head ever so slightly towards Ultra Magnus as she spoke, clearly directing this at him. “If it would please you, reports of their activities and reintegration can be provided.”

“I will agree to having them monitored, within reason. No trackers, no implants, no collars, only close observation.” Megatron knew the Autobots could play dirty. He was well aware of the tactics they had used during the War to tag and release prisoners, erasing their memories to track them without their knowledge. He knew it was a gamble to place so much trust in the politicians before him, but it was a risk he had to take.

“What guarantee do I have that this is not part of a ploy for you to take Cybertron?” Ultra Magnus asked.

“Have I not proven myself to you already? I had every chance to take the Allspark for my own. I could have snuffed out his spark at any point, or left him for dead,” he nodded towards Optimus, “and I am still quite capable of eliminating you if I so wished. Yet here I am asking help from my enemies.”

Ultra Magnus contemplated for a minute; Megatron knew his concerns were valid. He could easily implement a takeover from the inside, especially once his troops were fixed and fueled, but strangely, he felt no desire to do so. His main concern right now was the wellbeing of his people. World domination could wait.

“I will allow their release so long as they stay out of trouble. However, should any step out of line, they will be swiftly placed back in secure custody.”

“I shall make certain of their good behavior.” This was a small victory, and one in the right direction. “What of my remaining proposal?”

“I will require a report to determine an appropriate quantity of supplies.”

Megatron nodded to Shockwave, prompting him to display his most recent data.

After a few minutes of reading and mumbling from the Senators, Perceptor spoke up, “The amount of material you ask for is high, but I believe it is feasible.”

“We will, of course, need to discuss this in further detail.” Ultra Magnus looked more tired than usual, recent events clearly weighing on him. “As I am unable to leave my duties on Cybertron, I request to send an envoy to speak on my behalf.”

Something clicked in Megatron’s processor. He knew there would be boundaries with this situation, but perhaps he could have some fun with this. “This, I will grant. However, I would like to make my own request.” He turned to face Optimus, who had been silent for the duration of the meeting. He looked anxious, his optics heavy. “He is to be your speaker.” Megatron pointed towards the Prime, much to his surprise.

“What?!” The Prime’s panicked expression brought a tiny prickle of joy to Megatron’s otherwise gloomy day.

The meeting soon concluded, and Megatron signed off, feeling rather pleased with himself.

~~~~~~

Optimus wanted to crawl under a rock. After a harrowing Council meeting, he’d gone home and sat in a dark corner, absorbing everything that had happened. He was surprised he’d been allowed to leave after mouthing off to Ultra Magnus like that, but he supposed his karmic payback was to be personally requested as an envoy by Megatron. He’d been contacted by Ultra Magnus later that night to discuss what that would entail, and thankfully his outburst wasn’t mentioned. Ultra Magnus, of course, told Optimus he was the best choice for the job; he’d been around Decepticons, and specifically Megatron, more than anyone else, etc., etc. Optimus had heard it all before. He wanted to believe it was true, but he couldn’t help feeling like maybe both sides were inadvertently conspiring to get rid of him. Tossing him to the Decepticons like this certainly would be an effective strategy. Whatever the case, he had a job to do.

Once he was able to move without feeling sick, he slowly packed for a potentially one-way trip. Optimus slowly walked through his apartment, taking in every detail. He wanted to remember every seam line in the wall, every crack in the floor, and every mysterious stain. He stopped to look at a framed picture of his old team taken on Earth. He picked it up and gently brushed his fingers over it, smiling at the memories it contained. He slipped it into his subspace, wanting a comforting memento to follow him into the hell that surely awaited him. He grabbed a few of his favorite books, and after one last look around, left the building and headed towards an unknown future.

It was early morning, so the streets were empty. Optimus drove a bit faster than normal down the freeway, letting the cool air rush over his frame. It was a calming feeling he’d grown to enjoy, and wanted to experience it as long as he could, as he didn’t expect he’d feel it again for a while. Thoughts buzzed through his head as he took an exit heading downwards and towards the edge of Iacon, feeling like he was leaving behind a part of himself.

The launchpad housing Omega Supreme was small and in a rather infrequently used area of the Iacon spaceport. As he drove closer, he was surprised at who he saw waiting for him.

“What…what are you all doing here?”

“We’re going with you, Bossbot!” Bumblebee chirped excitedly. “Ultra Magnus wanted us to keep you company, so we were assigned to come keep an eye on things-OUF!” He was cut off with a swift chop to the cranium by Blurr.

“I was assigned. You begged your way into tagging along! And those two are no better!” The blue bot gestured towards Jetfire and Jetstorm, who smiled excitedly next to a very tired-looking Jazz.

“We say being with other flying-types is good for learning experience! Boss can’t say no to that!” Jetfire had a grin plastered audial to audial and was visibly shaking with excitement.

“Besides, everybody knows about us now because of Unicron fight!” Jetstorm practically shoved his brother aside to get his comment in. Jazz just slumped behind them, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Don’t get too excited. We’re here to keep things running smoothly, not to have fun! Not that there’d be any fun even if that were the goal.” Optimus hadn’t noticed the short, old medic behind the taller bots.

“Ratchet?! How’d you get pulled into this?”

“I got asked nicely. Decided I could use a break from Cybertron. And besides, someone needs to keep these yahoos alive.”

As rowdy as the younger bots were, Optimus was relieved he’d have some familiar faces to keep him company. He smiled as he watched them, his spark lighter. Not wasting any more time, the group boarded the ship and took off for the edge of Autobot space.

~~~~~~

Shockwave walked through the cavernous halls of the Revenge to the shuttle bay. The Autobots had arrived ahead of schedule, and he had been tasked with meeting them. Shockwave had been uneasy since the initial meeting with the Autobot Council. He knew who was part of this envoy, and he wasn’t looking forward to seeing him. He couldn’t believe he’d failed to dispose of Blurr. He’d taken every step to get rid of him, but his biggest mistake was giving his crushed frame to Cliffjumper to dispose of instead of just doing it himself. Lucky for Blurr, he supposed.

The Autobots had already disembarked and were huddled by their ship, not thrilled to be around the larger bots working in the bay. Shockwave’s optic flicked around before landing on the lean, light blue bot who, to his ire, happened to turn towards him at that exact moment. The disgust on Blurr’s face was evident, not that Shockwave cared how he felt.

“Greetings, esteemed guests.” Oh, this is painful. “If you will follow me, I will show you to your quarters and fill you in on the ship rules and itinerary.”

The group made its way through the dark corridors, drawing the attention of the bots they passed. Shockwave was embarrassed to be seen with what were practically newsparks following at his heels like lost turbofox pups, but he had a job to do and didn’t want to disappoint Megatron.

“You may roam the ship in your free time, so long as you keep a detailed log of your activity and report it directly to me. You will have today to settle into your accommodations. Starting tomorrow, you,” he looked over his shoulder at Optimus, “will meet with Lord Megatron to discuss and finalize the terms of your…treaty.” They came to a stop in front of a small door, which Shockwave motioned towards weakly. “Your quarters.”

“Thank you.” Optimus bowed half-heartedly and went in, the door sliding closed behind him softly.

The group continued on, stopping to drop off the medic, the yellow one, and the easily excitable fliers and their handler, leaving only Blurr alone with Shockwave. Neither said a word as they came to the last room at the end of the hall. Shockwave opened the door and gestured for his guest to enter, which he did, shooting his host the coldest side-eyed glare the purple mech had ever seen. The door shut, and Shockwave was left alone, wondering why that look had made him feel so strange.

~~~~~~

Optimus was surprised a Decepticon ship would have a berthroom this small. It was almost too cramped, even for him. After closer inspection, he saw a couple brooms and jugs of cleaning supplies haphazardly thrown into a corner and figured this must have been a repurposed storage closet. A small recharge slab cast a dark shadow across the floor, lit faintly by the dim, slightly flickering light fixture in the center of the low ceiling. Optimus realized in dismay that there was no fuel dispenser in the room, meaning he’d have to try his luck with the mess hall again. He sat down on the bed, feeling the cold metal on his plating, and exvented in relief. The Decepticons were sure to be under orders to treat their guests with some decency, or at the very least not try picking fights with them, but that didn’t change how anxious Optimus felt around them, some more than others.

He leaned back on the wall, ignoring its uneven texture. He wasn’t looking forward to being in a room with Megatron again, alone or otherwise. Negotiating a peace treaty wouldn’t be easy, especially with a mech as cold and stubborn as him. Megatron would absolutely do everything he could to antagonize Optimus without overstepping Ultra Magnus’ bounds, starting with personally requesting him as the primary arbitrator. The thoughts made Prime’s mind race, and he felt his energon pressure rise. Reaching into his subspace, he pulled out the photo he’d brought with him, smiling as he set it on a crate near the foot of the recharge slab. He grabbed a pad of Earth fairy tales he’d transcribed and settled in, preparing himself for the coming days.

Chapter Text

Optimus woke to a knock on the door of his room, expecting to find a Decepticon waiting on the other side. To his surprise, all he saw was a cube on the ground filled with the clearest, brightest energon he’d ever seen. He glanced up and down the hall but failed to find who had delivered the fuel. He picked it up and returned to his accommodation, thankful he wouldn’t have to go to the cafeteria, at least for now. He flipped the cube around in his hands, examining it. The seal didn’t appear to be tampered with. As he cautiously peeled it back, a pleasant aroma wafted out of the container, reminiscent of freshly bloomed flowers. The liquid itself was a deep crystal-clear pink, a gentle glow emanating from it as Optimus swirled it around, mesmerized by the tiny, shifting sparkles it created. Snapping out of his trance, he sniffed the liquid, concerned it may be spiked with something intended to take him out, but the pleasant scent was too tempting. He brought the cube up to his lips and took a cautious sip. The drink tasted as good as it looked and smelled, its texture slightly thick and silky-smooth. He expected any moment to drop dead from some poison mixed into it, but felt fine after a minute of waiting, and continued slowly drinking.

This must be some attempt at getting me to lower my guard or get me comfortable and on their side.

He had realized that, to his dismay, the last couple days hadn’t been just a bad dream. He really was in an old storage closet on Megatron’s warship, tasked with negotiating peace between their factions. His spark sank at the thought of all the ways it could possibly go wrong and that it would probably be his fault. He pushed the thoughts from his processor and tried to focus on the positive of his drink. No sooner had he finished when another much stronger knock jostled the door. Upon opening it, someone was on the other side this time.

“I have been asked to escort you to the designated meeting room. Now, if you would kindly follow me.” Shockwave was as unenthused as he’d been the previous day. Even so, Optimus found himself jogging to keep pace with him as they made their way through the dark maze of halls until finally coming to a stop in front of a large set of double doors, nearly indistinguishable from the others they’d passed. As they walked in, Optimus realized that, for better or worse, he wouldn’t be alone with Megatron. Strika, Blitzwing, and Lugnut were seated on either side of the table, with Megatron at the head facing towards the door, quietly chatting amongst themselves. The large bots turned to face the new arrivals, making Optimus want to crawl out of his plating. Shockwave took his seat on the left side of the table, leaving Optimus to do his best to hoist himself onto the Decepticon-sized chair opposite Megatron. The chair itself was comfortable, but he had to sit on his knees to properly reach the table. He felt his face plating flush with embarrassment and hoped the room was dark enough for it to go unnoticed, though Megatron’s staring made him think otherwise. Maybe this was a bit of payback for all the humiliation Optimus had inflicted on those in attendance.

“Now that all parties are present, shall I bring out the treaty, Lord Megatron?” Shockwave asked, pulling a small datapad seemingly out of nowhere.

“Proceed at your own discretion.”

With a swipe across the datapad, a slightly grainy holoscreen popped up in the center of the table, angled so it was visible to all in attendance. Across it scrolled a well-organized document of neatly formatted paragraphs and bullet-pointed additions; a draft of the peace treaty written up by the Autobot Council.

“Pause here.” Shockwave did as Megatron commanded. “This article is one of my biggest causes for concern.”

Optimus looked down at the Autobot-sized datapad he’d been provided, noting it contained a copy of the document he could read and edit.

‘In accordance with Autobot Code 56, Article 3, Paragraph 18:

Flight frames are not permitted public use of alt-mode or other methods of aerial movement associated with alt-mode. Any use of flight capabilities is to be carried out in designated indoor flight ranges under supervision. Date and duration of the activity will be recorded and reported to the Flight Database in accordance with Autobot Code Addendum 12. Flight frames are encouraged to seek removal of visible defining flight-capable characteristics, including but not limited to wings, thrusters, and cockpits, or seek mode-alteration surgery to transition to a ground-based civil frame. All current and former flight frames are required to register as such to maintain a proper census count.’

Prime’s eyes widened, frowning at the paragraph’s contents. He’d read the entire Autobot Code multiple times, and was well aware of the limitations placed on flight frames after the War, but he didn’t remember the law being this harsh. Had it been changed recently, and he just hadn’t read the new version yet?

“After the War, that law was passed to avoid panicking civilians since so many warframes and, by extension, Decepticons are flight-capable.” Optimus gave a matter-of-fact answer, still confused about the excerpt.

“Forcing a slim minority of the Autobot population to conform to the comfort of the Council. If my Decepticons are to integrate into life on Cybertron, this law will have to be amended.”

“I assume you want it repealed entirely?” Optimus asked, Megatron nodding in response. “Are there any specific conditions you’d like to add?”

“Flight frames are to be permitted to utilize their vehicle mode freely and openly. Registration for census purposes can continue, so long as civilian and ground frames are included in the same manner. Frame type is not to be used in any discriminatory way in any social, political, or legal matter.”

“I’ll note it.”

“In my time stationed on Cybertron, I saw very few buildings or entryways of appropriate size to accommodate larger frames,” Shockwave added. “If such large swathes of cities require rebuilding, perhaps it would be in our best interest to request warframe and flight frame friendly buildings be added.”

“I could ask the Council to sign off on frame-specific housing with larger rooms and a change to public spaces for accessibility.” Optimus paused to think for a moment. “What about flight deck attachments on buildings? For easier access to higher floors.”

“The presence of flight frames would necessitate such additions on new buildings and old. There wasn’t a building without one in New Kaon.”

Optimus went ahead and added that to the list.

The heavy awkwardness had slightly lifted after this, though Optimus still felt incredibly small and out of place. The meeting session lasted a few more hours, making decent progress into the lengthy treaty. Optimus had kept his head down for most of it, not wanting to accidentally make eye contact with the war machines he was trapped with, and spent the duration of the time marking up his document to send to Ultra Magnus later.

After the meeting was dismissed, Optimus hastily went to his room, letting out a sigh of relief once the door had closed behind him. As civil and cordial as this first meeting had been, it was still nerve-wracking to be around those bots. More relaxed now, he felt the exhaustion from the anxiety set in. He laid down on his little recharge slab and fell into a light, uneasy sleep.

~~~~~~

Bumblebee was bored out of his mind. After spending the night in the tiny room ‘graciously’ provided for their stay, he’d been itching to get his surplus of energy out but didn’t really want to risk running into Decepticons if he left the room. He paced around and did some exercises in hopes it would help, but it was to no avail.

“Uuuggghhh, there’s gotta be something to do here!” He groaned to himself. Optimus would be in a meeting right about now, so asking him to hang out wasn’t an option. Blurr was too uppity, and Ratchet didn’t condone most of what Bumblebee considered fun. But maybe…

Bumblebee grinned, a horrible little idea blooming in his processor. He opened the door, and after checking that the hall was empty, tiptoed over to where the Twins were staying. The second he knocked on the door, it flew open revealing the two bots eagerly standing on the other side.

“Hey guys! You wanna-”

“Shhhh!” Jetfire swiftly cut him off, shoving a digit into the yellow bot’s face to silence him. “Caretaker is in recharge, not wanting to wake him!”

Bumblebee glanced around the Twins, optics landing on Jazz, out cold and unbothered. “My bad. Anyway, you guys wanna race?” He whispered back.

“No can do, small friend. Jazz will be unhappy if we are found out.”

“He give strict instruction to stay here.”

“Aw, come on guys!” Bumblebee’s eyes darted around before leaning in and up towards the Twins. “We can be out and back quick, he doesn’t have to know.”

The jets looked at each other, then back at Jazz, then back at Bumblebee, all three now grinning audial to audial.

The bots transformed and took off at an absurd speed, Bumblebee pulling ahead just barely. He swerved to avoid a few large mechs upon rounding a corner, nearly knocking the Decepticons off their feet. Bumblebee picked up speed as best as he could, inching further ahead of the fliers. It wasn’t quite the same as speeding across the Salt Flats on Cybertron or an empty Detroit underpass, but man, it felt good to stretch his struts. He flew around another corner, tilting onto his wheels, before continuing down the long, straight hall. He noticed Jetfire and Jetstorm were gaining on him again, and he just couldn’t have that.

He pushed the throttle again and yelled back, “When’d you two get so slow? I remember you being a challenge!”

“Ha! He says we are not challenging, brother!” Jetstorm laughed.

“We are only letting you win, scout bot!” Chided Jetfire. “If is challenge you want, then we- LOOK OUT!”

Not even a second later, the racers crashed hard into a wall at a fork in the road, transforming on impact and falling into a tangled pile on the ground.

“Ooowww, everything hurts,” Bumblebee whined as he propped himself up on the wall, noting the new dents in his plating. “Ratchet’s gonna kill me.” Before he could worry about that any more, the speedster’s eye was caught by a bright light and what sounded like fighting emanating from a door sitting slightly ajar down the left hall. His interest piqued, Bee jogged off towards it, followed by the Twins.

Peeking through the crack, they saw a padded training room full of weapons, dummies, and lots of large, intimidating training equipment. A silvery-white flier with blue accents, not much taller than Optimus, was flying around, dodging a mace being flung around on a rotating pole. Bumblebee was enthralled by the sight. The equipment in the room was so tempting, but the presence of the Decepticon deterred him from going in. He wanted to stay and watch just a little longer but was startled when the flier was hit by the mace, being flung to the ground and bouncing a few times before landing on his back right in front of Bee and the Twins.

“How’s it goin’?” The Decepticon had noticed them and waved politely, smiling as he panted.

“Uh…hi?” Bumblebee wasn’t sure how to respond. “You uh…you doing some training?”

“Yeah, guess you could call it that.” The white flier stood shakily, steadying himself by leaning on his knees. He slowly straightened out, stretching his back before extending a hand towards his stunned observers. “Name’s Tailwind.”

The yellow bot pushed the door open a little further, cautiously accepting the handshake. “Bumblebee-nNRGH!” He was shoved down with a surprising amount of force by the jets behind him.

“Hello, I am Jetfire!”

“And I am Jetstorm! You fly, yes?”

Tailwind was silent for a moment, surprised at the bots’ enthusiasm. “Nice to meet you guys! And yeah, I do fly.” He grinned, turning around to show off his wings.

The Twins’ eyes lit up. “We have not met many flying types before! We only have each other most times.” Jetfire was visibly shaking in excitement, thrilled to finally meet a fellow frame type.

“Dang, that’s rough.” Tailwind sounded genuinely disappointed at this news but perked up rather quickly. “Say, how fast are you three?”

“We are fast!”

“Super-duper fast!”

“I don’t mean to brag, but I’m the fastest thing on Cybertron.” Bumblebee couldn’t help gloating a little bit. After all, he had technically won their race, having managed to stay ahead for the duration. And he was faster than Blurr, no matter what that stuck-up intel bot said.

“Do not believe his lies,” Jetfire whispered, leaning in towards a skeptical Tailwind.

“Let’s test that theory.” Tailwind gestured towards the machine he’d been sparring with. “Bet you can’t beat that thing on its highest setting.”

Bumblebee grinned in delight. “Oh, it is SO on!”

~~~~~~

Optimus woke up from his nap in the early hours of the morning, when any normal bot would be deep in recharge. He sat up and stretched, noting he’d slept for around seven hours. As he moved to the edge of his bed, a low rumble came from somewhere in his frame. It took him a moment to realize it was his empty tanks and not a creaky joint. He slumped, wishing he’d saved some of that morning’s mystery energon, but it had just been too good to not finish. Optimus reached into his subspace and came up empty, remembering he’d drunk his emergency cube the night they’d arrived on the Revenge. He considered staying put and hoping someone would bring him another ration in the morning, but another louder rumble quickly extinguished that thought. He really didn’t want to go to the mess hall, but figured there wasn’t much of a choice.

He peeked into the hall and looked around and, not finding anyone, quietly made his way towards the mess hall, aided by the map Shockwave helpfully provided to him. He reached it without much trouble and thankfully without coming across any other bots, attributing that luck to the ungodly hour. The door slid open with a soft ‘fwhoosh,’ and he crept in, looking around to make sure he was alone. The room was silent, save for a low, ambient hum. The lights were off, leaving only the fuel dispensers to cast a ghostly, pale blue glow in a small circle around them. Without a bot in sight, Prime walked to the shortest dispenser on the adjacent wall, which he still had to stand on the tips of his pedes to reach, and filled a small cube. His spark skipped a beat, nearly causing him to drop his fuel, when a gruff voice came from somewhere behind him.

“Awake at such a late hour, Autobot?” Megatron sat in a dark corner, barely visible save for his crimson optics and a few edges on his armor reflecting the dim light of the dispensers.

Optimus quickly wiped the shock off his faceplate, praying his unwanted companion couldn’t hear his racing sparkbeat. Not wanting a conversation, he scowled and turned to leave.

“You had some decent suggestions at today’s meeting.” Megatron continued, despite not receiving an answer to his question.

“I didn’t make them for you.” Optimus could feel his frame heating at choosing to interact with this mech. He refused once again to face him, instead looking straight ahead at whatever wall was in front of him. “I’m here to help the Autobots avoid another conflict and to ensure a decent life for what few Decepticons and flightframes I do care about. As soon as we’re done here, I’m leaving and never looking back. Whatever you do afterwards, whatever happens to you, is neither my problem nor my concern. While I hope this pans out well for your people, I can’t say the same for you.” And with that, he left.

Megatron knew he should be angry at the Prime’s attitude, and he was, but he found himself more amused than anything. As meek and quiet as he was during meetings, Optimus had no qualms taking the lead in battle or insulting Megatron to his face, especially when they were stuck alone together. He took a sip of his drink before catching himself, not wanting those thoughts to go any further. This felt like the last time he’d had similar thoughts, chalking it up this time to having drank some spoiled energon or some error in his code. Knockout had said everything looked fine after his last checkup regarding this odd feeling, but maybe he’d schedule one more just to make sure. Megatron reminded himself that despite the manifesting peace treaty, Optimus was his enemy. He had a healthy respect and hatred for the little bot; nothing more, nothing less.

Chapter Text

“I see you have had little luck convincing the Decepticons of our terms.” The grainy image of Ultra Magnus felt much bigger than it was on the screen of Optimus’ datapad.

“Yes, Sir. Predictably, they’ve been stubborn, but a lot of their requests and changes sound reasonable.” Optimus unknowingly held the datapad too close to his face, bathing in the blue glow.

Before leaving Cybertron, Optimus had been given a datapad and access to an untraceable frequency. The Council had insisted upon maintaining a covert correspondence despite his protests. It felt wrong to go behind the Decepticons’ backs, given their attempts at peace, but it wasn’t like he had much of a choice.

“The amendments you have sent me would allow them to easily establish a foothold for future attacks. I need you to convince them to pull back on some of these demands. I will send you a list of notes before your next meeting.”

The Decepticons knew Optimus had to communicate with Ultra Magnus, sending reports and treaty edits back and forth, but he worried about what could happen if they found out about their private communications. “Yes, Sir.”

“Have you had time to search their ship for signs of invasion?”

“Yes, Sir.” Optimus hesitated, not wanting to admit he’d been holed up in his room outside of meetings. “I have not seen anything warranting suspicion.”

“Continue as you were, then. Report to me even the slightest change.” Ultra Magnus’ tone softened at the change in Prime’s expression. “You’re doing good work, Optimus. I have faith in you to see this through to the end.”

The blue mech signed off, and Optimus adjusted his position on his bed, trying to get comfortable. After receiving the report from the first meeting, Ultra Magnus had ‘suggested’ Prime follow the Council’s notes more closely; he was speaking on their behalf, after all. Optimus knew he had no real power, he was just the Council’s mouthpiece, but a vast majority of their demands just didn’t sit quite right with him. But, like it or not, he had a job to do, and it had to be carried out to the Council’s liking.

Optimus managed to scoot into a corner, finally able to lean back and relax a little. Much to his disappointment, he hadn’t received any more mystery energon. While he didn’t particularly expect that kind of hospitality from Decepticons, that first morning had made it seem like there would be some special treatment for the Autobot visitors, but that had not been the case. When Shockwave said they’d have to follow the ship’s rules, he hadn’t been lying. Prime’s only method of refueling was the cafeteria, which he had no desire to visit again. Even if he went at a later hour when less bots were present, there was still the chance of running into someone -and one bot in particular- and that’s not something he wanted to deal with at any time of day. Prime’s tanks tightened, aching from days of avoiding refueling. He placed a hand over them at a particularly bad cramp as he sat curled on his bed, re-reading one of the datapads he’d brought. In the little over a week they’d been aboard the Revenge, he’d managed to go through every datapad at least twice. He practically had them memorized, considering all the other times he’d read them.

Optimus sighed, tilting his head up to stare at the ceiling. He’d been incredibly anxious since his first meeting with Megatron, his books being his only tether to a semblance of sanity. He’d barely even talked to the others he’d come with since he’d been in long meetings practically every day. Optimus wasn’t sure how long he’d been reading before thinking to check his chronometer. Checking the time, he was a little surprised to see he’d read through the night, realizing he’d soon have to leave for that day’s meeting. He set down the pad and rubbed his face before making an attempt to get off the recharge slab. Every joint ached from being in one position for so long, unhappy at being moved. Optimus gingerly paced around the closet, shaking the tiredness from his body. After a few minutes, deciding he didn’t want to be late to the meeting, Optimus stepped out into the hall.

He got to the conference room precisely on time, the last to arrive, climbed onto the comically large chair at the end of the table, and picked up the provided datapad.

Hours passed as Prime’s discomfort grew. I should’ve gone to the cafeteria. The Decepticons would drone on and argue, and he’d just nod and jot down their demands. It didn’t feel too dissimilar from Council meetings, albeit with less friendly faces.

“Proceeding to the next section.” Strika scrolled to a section Optimus had sent to the Council previously, pausing to read the edits Ultra Magnus had made to their requests. “We talked last time how this section essentially disallows Warframes from holding most jobs, relegating us to hard labor, little different than how things were before the War. The Council seems reluctant to allow us to work civilian jobs, no?”

Optimus knew the femme was right. At the last meeting, the Decepticons had requested changes befitting a peace treaty, but the Council turned most down, citing planetary security and civilian safety.

Optimus sighed. “I agree, it’s a bit ridiculous, but I can understand not wanting to panic civilians. They’ve never been around Decepticons.”

“But how will they learn to live with us if they are not exposed to us? What makes Decepticons less suited for civilian work than for mining or construction?”

“It’s umm…your larger size and strength.” Optimus was not comfortable saying that, even if there was some truth to it. Most Decepticons were bigger and stronger than even the largest Autobots, often dwarfing bots like Bulkhead. He wished he didn’t have to repeat what the Council wanted him to.

“Well, that’s certainly reductive.”

“Tell jour Council they can either agree to our terms, or shove it up their exhaust ports!” Blitzwing’s anger made frequent appearances at these meetings. As loud as he was, it was still more quiet than Lugnut, which Optimus was very thankful for.

“None of the Council’s terms in the matter of employment are acceptable.” Megatron stared daggers at Optimus from down the table. “Scrap any changes they’ve made and send back my original terms.”

“They won’t agree.” Optimus kept his head down, embarrassed at his previous comment. His irritation was growing, not helped by his lack of sleep and fuel.

“Did I stutter, Autobot? If we are brokering peace, why should my people not be treated the same as yours? Should they not be afforded the same opportunities?”

“Fine. Fine, I’ll send it again.” He could feel his frame heating, vents speeding up. “Starting to think these laws are here for a reason,” he mumbled angrily.

“Would you care to repeat that?” Megatron’s tone could have sucked any warmth from the room.

Optimus kept his head down, his mind clouded by exhaustion and anxiety. He could feel a fuel line pulsing under his helm. Some gears near his chest were grinding against one another. His audio receptors sizzled with static and rushing energon. He tightened his grip on the datapad in his hands, putting more pressure on his already achy joints. “I said, I’m starting to think these laws might exist for a reason.” He raised his head just enough to see the Decepticons from under the brim of his helm. “Would you like me to repeat myself again?”

Prime’s mood was too sour to care about the stunned, angry Decepticons around him. He kept eye contact with Megatron as best as he could as the gray mech leaned forward. “I think we all know why the Council doesn't want Decepticons on their planet. They have a wonderful memory of the history they withhold from their populace.”

Prime’s optic twitched. “The Council may not be saints, but don’t you dare sit here and lecture me about morality! I can’t speak for every Decepticon, but so many of the ones I’ve met have been more friendly and kind than I believed possible. But you,” his eyes darted around the room as he raised himself to his feet, “For eons, every one of you in this room has done nothing but destroy everything you touch, and I’ve had the displeasure of witnessing that firsthand. I don’t know what your angle is here, but given our peoples’ history, I think the Council has every right to be this cautious!”

“Remember who you are speaking to, Autobot.”

“Oh, I’m well aware of who I’m speaking to.”

Optimus and Megatron glared at each other, optics locked in a stalemate. Nobody wanted to be the first to break the cold, tense silence, fearing retribution from either side. After what felt like hours, Megatron relented.

“This session is dismissed.” He growled, rising from his seat.

Optimus sat frozen as the others filed out past him. He didn’t know how much time had passed before he was able to move. Sliding off the chair, he checked that the hall was empty, and cautiously made his way back to his room.

~~~~~~

Hours after the disaster of a meeting had concluded, Optimus’ spark was finally slowing down. His chest hurt, his head was throbbing, and the realization of what happened was finally setting in. He lay in the dark on his recharge slab, hands covering his face. Primus Almighty, why? Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut? That’s two outbursts at important dignitaries in two weeks, Optimus. What were you thinking? What are you doing?! A sharp pain in his tanks halted his train of thought. He sat up, remembering it had been days since his last refuel. His willingness to risk the mess hall was below rock bottom at this point, but maybe one of his companions’ rooms would have a dispenser.

Optimus sighed and opened a comm channel with Ratchet. “Hey, it’s me.”

“Haven’t heard from you in a while, kid. Thought you’d forgotten about us.” Ratchet chuckled. “You sound terrible.”

“Yeah, I feel terrible. Say, you wouldn’t happen to have an energon dispenser in there, would you? I could really use some fuel.”

“Something tells me you need more than fuel. Why don’t you come down to the medbay, I’ll give you a once-over.”

The thought of leaving his room wasn't an appealing one, but Optimus knew Ratchet wouldn’t let him hear the end of it if he declined. “Yeah, I’ll be right there.”

The room spun as he stood up, grabbing onto a box to steady himself. Regaining his composure, Optimus made his way to the medbay, staying close to the wall.

The medbay was a decently sized room full of what could generously be called medical equipment, though it was significantly cleaner and more well-lit than the rest of the ship. Prime’s eyes adjusted to the brightness as he entered, the familiar shape of Ratchet coming into focus.

“Hop up on the table, Prime, I’ll get you some energon.”

Optimus did as he was told, thankful to be handed a cube of fuel. He drank it down eagerly, taking no note of the doctor’s concerned look until he was finished. “No wonder you look the way you do, you haven’t been refueling, have you?”

Optimus shrank back in shame. “Among other things.”

Ratchet shook his head in disappointment, picked up a small light, and checked the dilation of Prime’s optics. “Hmm. And what’re these ‘other things?’”

“Where do I even start?” He sighed, feeling his emotions well up. “I suggest what the Council wants, Megatron shoots it down. I suggest a compromise, and the Council shoots it down! I’m trying to stay in my place and to keep both sides placated because I want this to work, and I don’t want to think about what will happen if it doesn't, but everyone in that meeting room hates me, and I don’t know if they have ulterior motives, and-and-and I don’t know if I can keep this up.” The pressure in his fuel lines increased again. “I can’t exactly blame the Decepticons for not accepting the Council’s terms, but Megatron is practically asking we ignore centuries of war with his demands, and-and can’t leave my room because what if I run into one of them, especially after today, and I can’t sleep because what if-”

“Optimus! Optimus, steady venting, in…,” He inhaled, pausing, “And out.”

Optimus could feel his spark beating as if it were trying to escape his chest. He did as the doctor said, taking a slow, deep breath, and holding it for a few seconds before exhaling, and doing so a few more times before his sparkbeat returned to normal. He was handed another energon cube, which he gladly accepted.

“One thing at a time, kid.” Ratchet continued his examination, putting a stethoscope to Prime's chest. “Start from the beginning. What all does the Council want?”

Optimus steadied his thoughts, wondering if he should even be telling Ratchet these things. He needed to tell someone though, or he might spiral. “Ultra Magnus wants me to broker peace with the Decepticons, but it’s been…a challenge. We’ve been going through the Council’s peace treaty outline in our meetings, but some of the things they’re asking… I don’t like the sound of them.”

Ratchet moved on to examining Prime’s joints. “Like what?”

“The Council wants restrictions against flight frames to remain in effect, but Megatron wants them to be scrubbed entirely. I know why those restrictions are there, but so many Decepticons fly that it wouldn’t be fair if they couldn’t on the very planet they’re trying to integrate into.”

“Mhm.”

“A-and then, the Council is denying the request for equal employment for warframes, again citing ‘not wanting to panic the public.’ And I get that practically no one on Cybertron has interacted with warframes before, but they did aid us when we needed it.” He sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. "I’m really trying to meet in the middle, but being civil and working with the people who tried destroying everything you know mere months ago has been…a lot.” He was at a roadblock again and wasn’t sure he could go any further.

“Well, what do you think?”

Optimus was taken aback at this question. He was just a mediator, here on behalf of the Council to do their bidding. He hadn’t really considered his own stake in this, let alone his opinions. Though, now that he thought about it, he had been giving suggestions during the meetings. “I…I don’t know. I want our fellow Autobots to be safe and comfortable, but if we’re serious about moving towards peace, then we have to make concessions. I hate to admit it, but the Decepticons have some good points and some fair requests.” He frowned, still unsure of his answer. “ I know I’m just here to do what the Council wants, but what if I fail? What if there is no midpoint for them to meet, and this all comes to nothing?”

“You’ve had a lot unfairly placed on your shoulders, Prime. But whatever happens isn’t your fault, alright? Now, I’m not saying you can’t or shouldn’t give input, but at the end of the day, it’s up to the Decepticons and the Council to find that middle ground. None of that is your responsibility.”

Optimus stared glassy-eyed at the ground. Ratchet had really undersold how awful he looked; the poor bot’s paint had lost much of its shine and had dulled, the circles under his eyes were dark, and his systems had been pushed to their limits.

Ratchet finished the examination and sighed. “Look kid, you know as well as anyone that I don’t like Decepticons. But even I have to admit, there are some good ones.” He sat at a small desk across from Optimus, his expression softening. “Maybe I’ve grown soft in my old age, but it might not hurt to give them a chance.” He paused again, chuckling softly. “I won’t deny it would be nice to see the end of this conflict before I join the Afterspark.”

Optimus silently processed the conversation, almost more confused now than when all this had first started. His orders, personal beliefs, and morals were all in conflict. “I don’t know, Ratchet. I just…I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to.” Ratchet stood, giving Optimus a light pat on the back. “You have a good spark, kid. Follow it.”

~~~~~~

It had been a few days since Bumblebee’s last excursion out into the ship, and he was raring to go again. He and the jet twins had had a blast in the training room with Tailwind, and had, of course, accrued more than a few injuries, much to Ratchet and Knockout’s ire. All four had been chastised when they limped into the medbay, laughing and falling over each other like idiots while carrying in pieces of themselves. Ratchet had ordered bed rest, heavily implying he would further worsen their condition if any of the young bots disobeyed him. Bumblebee knew it would be in his best interest to listen to Ratchet, but the training room had been too much fun to not try it out again.

Bumblebee walked across the hall and knocked on the door, eagerly expecting Jetfire and Jetstorm to fling it open. Confused after a few seconds of silence, he knocked again. This time the door opened, and he was met with an irritated Jazz looming over him.

“Oh hey man! Are the twins here? I wanna go to the training room again!”

“Nah, you’ll have to break the rules on your own, these two ain’t leavin’ this room until further notice.”

“Sorry Bumblebee! Maybe next time Mr. Jazz will not be such a wrench in the gears!” Jetfire yelled from somewhere behind his caretaker.

“Aw, c’mon Jazz, please? We’ll be more careful this time!” The yellow bot pushed out his bottom lip in his best attempt to pout and plead his way to permission.

Jazz sighed, “I’m sorry little man, I’m not gettin’ on the docs’ bad sides again.”

“Come on, please? Maybe w-” Bumblebee was cut off by the closing door. He huffed, annoyed. “Fine! Guess I’ll just go have fun on my own then!” He transformed and drove off, wishing he’d gotten Tailwind’s comm link last time.

After a couple wrong turns, Bumblebee finally made it to the training room, noticing the sound of combat coming from within. The door was half open, but given how large it was, Bumblebee could easily fit his entire frame through. Looking around the room, he saw several training machines powered on, but nearly missed Blitzwing dodging through the spinning obstacles. Bumblebee rubbed his hands together, grinning.

“Hey Blitzbrain!”

The Decepticon was distracted just long enough to miss dodging a spinning mace, and was knocked into the ground close to the heckler. He raised his head to see a smug Autobot looking down at him, arms crossed over his chestplate. Less than thrilled, Blitzwing’s faceplate spun around to display his frustration.

“I vill crush you, bug!” He extended an arm, lunging at Bumblebee, who somersaulted out of the way, jumping back and upwards quite a ways.

“Cool your jets, Hothead!” He landed on a tall rotating platform, jogging along with its movement. “I’m just here to have some fun! Do some training,” He dodged a missile the angry Decepticon shot at him, “Maybe a little sparring! Whaddya say? You’re not too scared to lose to me, are you?”

Blitzwing gave him a toothy scowl. “It vould be my pleasure to beat you into a million tiny pieces!” He jumped up, aiming for Bumblebee’s position. “No doctor vill be able to put jou back together vhen I’m done!”

The little bot dodged again, weaving his way down a series of rotating bars and stopping on one just above the floor. Blitzwing jumped down, shattering most of the structure and knocking his opponent to the side. Bumblebee rolled, bouncing to his feet towards the opposite side of the room, standing his ground as the angry Decepticon charged at him like a bull.

“Is this really your best, Blitzbrain? Or have you just gotten worse at fighting?” Bumblebee flipped over the charging bot, getting him in the back with his stingers. He’d forgotten how much fun it was to mock a bot as reactionary as this.

Blitzwing stumbled, gritting his teeth. He turned to glare back at Bumblebee, the heat radiating off his frame now visible like asphalt on a hot day. “rrRRRAAAGHHH!!” Blitzwing lunged at the gloating bot with shocking speed, fist clenched and wound back, ready to deliver a crushing blow.

Bumblebee was caught off-guard, and unable to dodge, was thrown backwards at speeds high enough to dent the wall under the padding. He slid out of the divot and onto the floor like a ragdoll, head spinning. His HUD was full of error messages and warnings, each appearing worse than the last. Oh man, Ratchet’s gonna kill me! If Blitzwing doesn’t do that first. Blitzwing slowly marched towards him, taking sadistic joy in the Autobot’s poor condition. Bumblebee was starting to regret his decision to antagonize Blitzwing, but he was determined to see this through. He pulled himself off the ground with much effort, and ran into the maze of spinning machines as fast as his broken frame would allow, hoping he was small enough to hide.

“Come out little Autobot! Didn’t you vant to have some fun?!” Blitzwing lumbered around the room, observing the equipment for any sign of his opponent, shooting missiles on the off-chance one hits his desired target.

Bumblebee watched, staying out of sight as best as he could. He climbed one of the remaining towers, avoiding what hazards were attached to it, and emerged at the top. His next attack would have to be timed perfectly. Confirming Blitzwing didn’t see him, Bumblebee leapt off, stingers charged. He landed perfectly on Blitzwing’s back, discharging the full power of his stingers into his opponent’s neck. The towering bot writhed in pain before falling to the ground, face up, smoke leaking from his frame.

Bumblebee made a successful landing on Blitzwing’s chest, taking in the sight of his victory. “Guess I win, big bot!”

“No,” Blitzwing jerked, throwing Bumblebee off balance. He grabbed the tiny bot by the chest plate, pinning him to the floor under himself; one hand was more than enough to restrain his small frame. Blitzwing grinned smugly, leaning in close to Bumblebee's face and whispering, as best as Hothead could, “I win.” He released his grip on the Autobot, got up, and left.

Bumblebee lay still for a long time, regretting all his decisions. His spark beat faster as he wished he could erase every thought going through his processor right now.

Chapter Text

Megatron was fuming. It had been two days since the last meeting. Two days since that pesky Autobot had the gall to speak in such a manner. He paced around his quarters, unable to keep his mind off the situation. How dare he behave as such in the presence of superiors. Has he forgotten who we are? Whose ship he is on? Megatron scowled, growling under his breath. He needs to remember his place. And Megatron needed to blow off some steam. He picked up his swords and took a step towards the door before a thought struck him. Perhaps he could relieve some stress and give his guest a reminder of his position at the same time.

“Shockwave.”

“Yes, Lord Megatron?”

“Have our mediator sent to my private training room. I wish to have a ‘meeting’ with him.”

Shockwave had half a spark to protest, as fighting a dignitary sent for peace talks could be seen as…inadvisable, but the tone of Megatron’s voice was more than enough to deter him. “I will send for him posthaste, my Lord.”

Megatron took a deep breath and exhaled, steadying his systems. Ignoring his better judgment, he made his way to the training room, and waited.

Optimus was surprised, and more than a little worried, at Megatron’s request. It wasn’t like he could turn it down though, that would probably upset Megatron further. Maybe he does just want to talk? Unlikely, but it’s worth holding out a bit of hope. He cautiously jogged to the location sent to him by Shockwave, spark pounding. He was exhausted, wishing he was back in his closet, sleeping. The last few weeks, and especially the previous couple days, were really wearing him down, and he was at the end of his rope. Optimus prayed to every deity he could think of that Megatron. Just. Wanted. To. Talk. He reached his destination, and taking a deep vent in, stepped forward, the door sliding open automatically. His face dropped, any remaining hope leaving his body as he laid eyes on Megatron, angry and carrying his swords.

Optimus looked worse than Megatron remembered. He seemed downright defeated. Megatron almost felt…bad for what he was about to do. Almost. He glared down at the bot, anger flooding his systems once again. Optimus met his gaze, surprising the Decepticon leader with how hollow yet full of hatred his eyes were. He could see the tension in the smaller bot’s frame; it was practically shaking. Scowling, Megatron reached towards a weapon rack, tossing Optimus a small axe, though it was decently larger than the one he’d had to leave behind on Cybertron.

“I want this to be fair.” Megatron unsheathed his swords, taking a fighting stance. “It will make it more satisfying to beat you into scrap.”

Without warning, Megatron took a step forward, swinging at his opponent. Optimus dodged clumsily, unaccustomed to the weapon’s weight. Megatron spared him no time to regain his balance. He swung again, connecting with Prime’s back. The small bot hit the wall, falling to the floor, but raising himself to his knees surprisingly fast. Megatron grinned, pleased at the sight. He could feel the stress start to leave his body as he lumbered towards his victim.

Optimus was shaking. That hit took all the wind out of him. He wasn’t unsure Megatron wasn’t planning to kill him and was just playing with him first. Raising his head as best as he could, Optimus saw Megatron slowly moving towards him, a maniacal grin on his face. His face. Optimus knew that look well. It’s the same one he saw every time the two had fought on Earth, and he hated it. He didn’t have time to ruminate on those thoughts as another blow threw him into the back wall. He collapsed, audials ringing from the impact. His axe was on the other side of the room, far out of reach. The pressure in Optimus’ fuel lines skyrocketed. The responsibility placed on him by the Council, the mess of the last meeting, and now this was too much. He forced himself up on his shaky legs, taking a stance as best as he could. Megatron drew his arm back again, preparing to attack. Seeing an opening, Optimus shot his grappling hook at a weapon rack across the room, sliding out of the way just in time.

Having avoided Megatron’s second attack, Optimus had grabbed a new axe, not caring about leverage anymore. He was angry at the Council, at Megatron, at himself, and at everything in general. He gripped the weapon, his knuckles aching, as he scanned the room for an opening. Taking note of some bars and pipes on the ceiling, he shifted, planting his feet solidly on the ground. Megatron wrenched his sword out from the gash it made, annoyed at missing his target. He lunged at Optimus, his anger returning. Just as Megatron charged, Optimus shot a hook up with his free hand, rising above Megatron as the bigger bot ground to a halt. Time seemed to slow as the two made eye contact, the rage in Prime’s tangible. He released his hook and fell, bringing the axe down on Megatron’s shoulder, tearing a gash halfway down his back.

Megatron stumbled, grimacing in pain. He hadn’t expected Prime to be so ready to fight, not after being kicked around like a rock, and especially not after how broken the Autobot looked. Receiving as little warning as he’d given Optimus, Megatron cried out as the axe connected with the back of his knees, nearly dropping him to the ground. Desperate to regain his footing, Megatron dropped his weapons as the little bot buried his own in the Decepticon’s heel. He fell backwards, landing squarely on his fresh wound, wincing. Trying to prop himself up, he failed as the full weight of Optimus barreled into his chest, kicking him to the floor. Megatron’s helm hit the ground, a dull pain radiating across it as he blinked through his blurred vision.

The silhouette of Optimus came into focus against the blindingly bright lights of the room, holding his axe under Megatron’s chin. The sharp steel was cold against his neck cables, shaking precariously. As his sight returned, he could see the Prime better; his frame heaved as he panted, though his arms seemed to shake of their own accord. Megatron focused in on his face, noticing something flash in Prime’s optics. Are those…tears?

Megatron didn’t have time to register his own shock before Optimus dropped the weapon and left the room, limping.

~~~~~~

Optimus stumbled into the medbay, not remembering how he got here. The adrenaline seemed to wear off as soon as he crossed the threshold, his internal systems screaming in disordered union. Thankfully, Ratchet was present, shocked and horrified at the sight of his friend.

“Primus Almighty, what happened to you?!” He grabbed Optimus under the arm, catching him before he could fall. The doctor got him seated on the medical table with some difficulty, examining him. Prime’s frame was covered in dents and gashes, most leaking energon, and missing patches of paint where it had been scraped off on impact. Ratchet scrambled to gather some medical instruments, furious. How could he be so careless? I swear, when I find who did this… He slammed his instruments down and began working on his patient. “Start talking, now.”

Optimus stared ahead blankly. He could barely hear what Ratchet was saying; his audials rang, and everything sounded muffled, as if he were underwater. His head pounded from the injuries, not helped by the dangerously high pressure in his lines. The world seemed to lag when he moved; it almost felt like he was floating. The weight of what he’d just done and its inevitable consequences set in as his optics began to burn.

Tears poured from Prime’s eyes, his frame shaking with every loud sob. His thoughts and feelings were too scrambled to even consider forming words. Ratchet was surprised but chose to keep silent. He sighed, placing a hand on Optimus’ back. He wasn’t prepared for his patient to lean into him, crying into the crook of Ratchet’s neck. Embracing Prime in a tight hug, Ratchet rubbed his back, figuring he could question the kid later. The poor bot needed this right now.

~~~~~~

The next few days had been uneventful, if rather stressful. Optimus had spent all of his time locked in his room, trying desperately to distract himself with books. The only interaction he’d had with anyone was an electronic message from Shockwave that meetings were on hold for an indeterminate length of time, and Ratchet stopping by to drop off fuel. Despite Ratchet’s reassurances and threats to give Megatron a what-for, Optimus knew this was his fault. I should’ve stayed quiet. I should’ve let him beat me, or just not gone at all. Everything’s gonna fall apart because of me, the exact thing I didn’t want happening! He set down his datapad, trying to get some sleep. After tossing and turning for what felt like hours, unable to silence his racing mind, he sat up, rubbing his face. I’m sure a walk would help clear this up. No, no, you can’t go out there. No Decepticon would be a fun encounter right now. Checking his chronometer, Optimus was startled at how late it was; any normal bot would be deep in recharge. Maybe the halls would be empty enough.

Optimus pulled up the ship schematic the group had received upon arrival, studying it in search of out-of-the-way passages. After a few minutes, he’d mapped out a route through a smaller hall along the outer edge of one of the lower decks. Still not entirely confident in his decision, he reached for the door. I shouldn’t. He pulled his hand back, but found it on the door handle again seconds later. Taking a cautious step into the hall, he listened for any sound of another bot’s presence. To his relief, he heard nothing, and made his way into the dark, sticking close to the wall.

The ship was silent, save for the gentle hum of the engines and creaking metal. It was almost…relaxing. Optimus was relieved his assumption had been correct; he hadn’t run into a single person so far. The area he’d chosen for his walk was oddly cozy. The ceiling was lower here than on the main decks, the walls were more narrow, and the right side had the occasional porthole. They were too high for Optimus to look out of, but he could see a few small stars peeking through a sliver at the top. The floor and walls were dirty and less well-kept than the rest of the ship, but Optimus didn’t mind. All he cared about was that he was alone. He continued down the hall, steps echoing lightly. So far, the walk had done little to calm his processor. Optimus had been so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed he reached the end of the hall until he nearly walked face-first into the wall. A dead end? This wasn’t on my route, did I take a wrong turn? His attention was caught by a thin, impossibly faint ribbon of light escaping a door slightly ajar to his right. Carefully tiptoeing to the crack, he looked through, seeing part of an observation room of sorts. It was large and circular, with floor-to-ceiling glass windows looking out into the void of space. In the center was what Optimus assumed to be a semi-circular couch, since the right half of it was obscured behind the door. The room was dark and quiet, the view quite peaceful: the perfect spot to sit and decompress. No, I shouldn’t. I don’t want to risk being caught outside my room right now. He took a step back, intending to leave. The view would be a nice change of pace… A quick look wouldn’t hurt.

Optimus pushed open the door, which thankfully made no sound, just enough to squeeze through. He took a cautious few steps, noting how much larger the room seemed inside. While looking around, his optics landed on a dark shape on the far side of the couch that had been blocked by the door, who he realized, to his horror, was Megatron. Prime froze in his tracks, too scared to move. Megatron was thankfully facing away from him, and didn’t appear to have noticed the intruder. Spark beating wildly, Optimus turned back as quietly as his anxious self could.

“I know you’re there.” Megatron’s raspy voice, though quiet, was deafening in the silence.

Optimus froze. Was Megatron angry? He didn’t sound angry, but maybe he was just really good at hiding it. Am I about to die? This place was so out of the way, nobody would hear them, let alone find them.

“Come. Sit.”

Prime swallowed. Should he run? Tempting, but maybe not the smartest move; it could just anger Megatron further. Terrified, Optimus gingerly crept to the opposite end of the seat from Megatron, refusing to make eye contact and choosing instead to focus on the dark nothingness outside. The two sat in tense silence for what felt like forever before Megatron finally broke it.

“What do you see out there?” Megatron nodded towards the windows.

‘What do you see?’ What kind of question is that? What’s his angle? Is he expecting some specific answer? After some hesitation, Optimus replied, “Space. Stars, planets, galaxies. Not much else out there.”

Megatron gave a soft ‘hmph’, amused. “Do you know what I see? Possibilities. Endless opportunities for power, expansion, and growth.”

Of course that’s all you think of. Nothing else goes through that thick processor of yours, does it? Optimus grimaced, still refusing to look at Megatron, and tried shifting further away despite already being squished against the arm rest.

Megatron shot him a side-eyed glance, uncrossing his arms. He placed one arm over his own lap, leaning his head on the other. “Despite what you may think of me, I have no ulterior motives with this peace treaty. As much as it pains me to admit, my people need help, and I have no plans to throw that chance away.” He sighed, shifting around to get more comfortable.

Optimus had no response. What could he say? He searched for anything in Megatron’s voice that could indicate a lie, but there was nothing. This was the most genuine, honest thing Optimus had ever heard leave his mouth. It was so bizarre, almost uncomfortable. His expression softened from a scowl as his mind raced, taking no notice of Megatron turning his head towards his ever so slightly.

Optimus was looking much better than when they last met. That doctor of his is quite skilled. Every dent was gone, and his paint had been reapplied seamlessly. Even its vibrancy seemed to have returned, though it was hard to determine in the dark room. What little light there was reflected off his stern face, highlighting the finer details of his visage. It was almost…pretty. Megatron snapped out of this trance, unsure how long he’d been staring and surprised he’d even think like that.

“For what little it’s worth, you bested me in combat.” Rather skillfully. Not that Megatron’s pride would ever let him admit that out loud.

“I did.”

The coldness of Prime’s voice didn’t sit well with Megatron. “I suppose it pays to be smaller and quicker sometimes.”

“Not like you’d know anything about that.” Giant oaf.

Megatron chuckled, startling Optimus.

The gray mech quickly returned to his usual demeanor, pleased with himself for getting such a reaction. “I know you do not want to be here, and that’s fine. But you are acting on behalf of the Council. The Council that, last I checked, you were a part of. You have as much a right to speak your mind and make suggestions as they do.” Megatron turned his head noticeably towards his listener. “I know you are more than capable of that.”

Prime froze, side-eyeing Megatron. “Thought you’d be more upset I mouthed off like that.” As if you didn’t literally invite me to die in your training room because of it.

“Oh, I was. Still am. However, there is something about your irritating persistence and hard-headedness I find admirable, for lack of a better term. When I called you one of the most bizarrely competent Autobots I’d ever met, I meant it.”

Optimus couldn’t believe how polite Megatron was being. It must be taking everything in him to not implode saying these things. “I’ll…take more initiative.”

“Good.” Optimus swore he could see the faintest smile curl the corner of Megatron’s mouth.

To Prime’s surprise, the tension seemed to have cleared a bit, and he found himself relaxing his frame and enjoying the view.

“Look out the window again, Prime. Tell me what you see.”

The use of his proper title almost slipped past Optimus. It felt like a small victory to be addressed as such by Megatron, the one bot who so stubbornly refused to use any part of Optimus’ actual designation. His finials twitched and perked up, doing a poor job of hiding how he felt. No! Focus on the question. He allowed himself a moment to think, his mind now clearer. “I see…room to grow. Ample space for change. A chance to…to build something.” He sighed, staring ahead. “I’ll see this through to the best of my abilities. If not for you, then at least for your people, and for mine.”

Megatron’s smile was unmistakable, as slight as it was. Optimus almost found himself copying it. They remained in silence and stared into the vast unknown surrounding them, unsure of what was to come, but certain of the odd comfort they felt in each other’s company.

~~~~~~

Optimus awoke the next morning, confused to find himself in his room. He didn’t remember walking back, but assumed he’d been so tired the trip back hadn’t registered in his mind. He sat up and stretched, feeling remarkably well rested, his thoughts noticeably quieter. A distinct knock on the door alerted him of the time. Must be Ratchet. Optimus opened the door, his assumption proven correct. “Good morning, Ratchet.”

“Mornin’ Prime. Found these on the floor right here, figured they might be yours.” Ratchet held up an older-looking datapad on top of which was a familiar cube of sparkling, pink energon in addition to the blue cube the doctor had brought.

“Oh, um…thanks!” Optimus took the items carefully, now more confused.

“How ya holdin’ up?”

“I feel pretty good right now. Finally managed to get some rest.”

“That’s good to hear. Hey, listen. So, I’m training a couple of the medics here later. Primus knows they need it, so I might not be able to pick up if you call. Just wanted to give you a heads up.”

“Thanks for letting me know. I’ll probably be in here all day, so no need to worry.” Optimus smiled, the look on Ratchet’s face letting him know it wasn’t convincing.

“Take care, kid.” Ratchet gave him a pat on the shoulder and left.

Optimus returned to his quarters, setting the items down. He picked up the pink cube, scrutinizing it. It looked exactly like the one he’d received on his first day here; just as mesmerizing as he remembered. The seal appeared intact. A relief, considering how convenient an assassination attempt would be. He pulled back a corner, the pleasant floral scent wafting out. Optimus took a sip, a gentle warmth flowing through his systems. His curiosity shifting to the datapad, he pressed the seal back down, setting the drink aside. Prime hopped up on the recharge slab, fascinated with the item in his hands. It was very old, likely a pre-war model, and covered in scratches and nicks. To his surprise, it powered on, revealing its title:

Cybertron: An Early History

[Earliest Records-New Cybertronian Order]

Penned by Nobody

“A history book? Who-?” Megatron’s words echoed. They have a wonderful memory of the history they withhold from their populace. Prime’s spark dropped. Someone in that meeting room had delivered this. He wondered if he should leave the ‘gifts’ be. I should give it a shot. I’ve read everything else I brought with me. Taking a deep breath, he turned the page and was greeted with a foreword.

Dearest reader,

Your patronage implies to me you are a seeker of truth. I admire that. It is often said that ‘history is written by the victors’, and by the time you read this, I fear that idiom may have become more than that. As the war nears its brutal end, I implore you to never forget how it started.

Regards,

Nobody

A history of the Great War and its lead-up. A lot of what he’d learned at the Academy didn’t add up, and most of Prime’s questions were met with half-hearted non-answers or were glossed over altogether. He’d fared no better at libraries, getting the same information from the books and strange looks from the employees. Eventually, he stopped asking, letting his curiosity gnaw at the back of his mind. Maybe…

Optimus read, taking no notice that day had turned to night. He finished the book, mind abuzz with questions. I can’t trust this. What if it’s all fake? He rubbed his temple, conflicted. His questions had been answered, but he was left with even more. The pink cube of energon had been long-forgotten, but now seemed like as good a time as ever to finish it. Optimus swirled it around, watching the sparkles dance. Maybe I can try asking Ratchet tomorrow. He doesn’t like talking about that part of his life, but it might give me something. Resigning himself to another sleepless night, he nestled into the corner of his little bed, slowly sipping the gifted drink.

Chapter Text

The next couple days had been quiet. No meetings, no Megatron, only Optimus, alone in his closet, re-reading that mysterious book time and time again. With each subsequent pass through, he seemed to gain more questions than were answered; the Senate, the Autobots’ rise to power, the social stratification, where this book came from and who wrote it? It all swirled in his head, pushing against the inside, desperate to be asked, but to whom? Ratchet, of course, was still his best option, but the poor old bot had already done his time..was there really a need to remind him of the past, even to sate Prime’s curiosity? There were of course a few..less desirable options, but Optimus quickly pushed that idea from his mind. Asking a Decepticon about this could only lead to lies and mockery. Optimus sighed and flipped onto his back, staring up at the ceiling as he finished the book yet again. So many questions unanswered..so much stiffness in his joints. He frowned in surprise when he checked his chronometer. Morning already? How long's it been? Was..I awake all night again? He had little time to dwell on that though, as a new message popped up on his HUD..from Shockwave. About how meetings were starting back up again. In twenty minutes. Groaning, Optimus rubbed his face. Maybe he could just skip this one. The Decepticons could draft their own amendments and requests, right? He didn’t need to be there.. Besides, his whole..situation with Megatron was still fresh in his mind, the bad and the slightly less bad. Maybe if I’m ‘sick’ today..? No, that wouldn’t fly. Megatron had competent doctors on board. But maybe..maybe Ratchet would be willing to help him fake an illness. As he lay on his slab weighing his options, another message alerted him that he now only had ten minutes before he was late. He sat up with some effort, and with even more got to his feet. Standing by the door, his hand hovered near the panel to open it, still debating if he should just call it in. His hand suddenly twitched, setting off the door sensor, opening his little room up to the hall.

“Ah, perfect timing, Autobot.” Shockwave just ‘happened’ to be passing by at the very moment Prime’s door had the misfortune of opening. “I am heading to our meeting as well. Would you care for an escort?”

His frame drooped. Well..I guess that decision’s been made for me.. Reluctantly and without a word, Optimus followed a good distance behind Shockwave all the way to the meeting room.

~~~~~~

Megatron was in his usual seat at the head of the meeting table, facing the door. He had wanted to start this meeting on time, given how they’d already lost several days of valuable time, but two attendees were still missing. As the minutes grew shorter, so did his patience. Just as he was about to explode, Shockwave walked in with Optimus trailing behind. Megatron’s attitude somewhat mellowed out upon seeing the Autobot’s demeanor; he was quiet, walking slower, and seemed to have more than a bit on his mind. Quickly shoving those thoughts away, he scrubbed whatever expression he had on his face back to his usual scowl and straightened his back. “Let us begin.” After a quick bit of shuffling, everyone had their datapads out. Clearing his throat, Shockwave would take the lead. “I would like to begin this meeting with an update on the Cybertronian Council’s response to our addendums from the previous meeting. ..They were all denied.” He paused, letting the displeasure of the attendees settle over the room. “..They have sent our requests back with further edits, which I would like to read out here.”

Megatron’s eye twitched. Denied again?! We already bent and caved to their demands, we practically copied their demands word for word, and they still want changes?! As his rage built again, he started tuning out Shockwave’s droning; it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before. Minutes, or perhaps hours passed this way, Megatron’s gaze slowly moving back and forth around the table. But, something caught his attention: Optimus. Sitting there unmoving, silent, and looking down at his datapad with the same level of enthusiasm as Megatron. Leaning a cheek on his hand, he found himself staring, Shockwave all but forgotten. The Autobot seemed strangely calm, not a line on his face out of place. Despite this, he seemed tired and..determined? Megatron’s own expression softened as he continued trying to figure out Optimus.

“Just send it back to them.”

Megatron was startled out of his trance at the Autobot’s unexpectedly assertive voice. “..What?” He was both surprised at the boldness, and lost at what Prime was referring to.

“Just send back your original demands, these ones Shockwave just read off that they edited?”

Shockwave’s surprise was equal to Megatron’s, if not greater. “Will they not just send those back?”

“Probably.”

“Then why bother? Will it not just become an endless back and forth?”

“Maybe. But, if you keep pushing they’ll either agree, or at least loosen their own terms.”

"And what if they do not relent?”

“Well then, you just keep going until it becomes moot. At some point, Cybertronian civilians will become comfortable around Decepticons and any demands the Council has regarding them won’t matter anymore, and that’s not something they want. You’ll need to be stubborn, yes, but Decepticons are good at that. Annoyingly so.”

Megatron blinked rapidly, rather baffled at what he was witnessing. Optimus, speaking up against his own Council to this extent? It was surprising, but welcome. “Your Council is rather stubborn as well. What makes you so certain of our chances?”

“They don’t have the time or resources to not agree soon. They won’t admit it, but they need this treaty as much as you do.”

Megatron frowned, mulling it over. They had already tried sending back unamended requests several times, but just as Megatron feared, they were simply returned. But perhaps more persistence and insistence was necessary. After all, it wasn’t like they could use force this time. “..This entire treaty would take far less time to complete were the council willing to show their faces.” “Yes, yes it would. But they’re ‘preoccupied’ with the rebuilding efforts on Cybertron, so you got me instead.” Optimus had not once looked up during this meeting, a hint of irritation now in his voice.

“If the Council truly needs this treaty so desperately, they will attend. Until you can give me that, we will not continue.”

“Oh, save it.”

Megatron was taken aback at Prime’s increasing shortness. “Pardon?”

Optimus sighed, clearly tired. “You need this treaty and so do they, and playing chicken with it is only going to hurt both sides. Just like I said they’d be stubborn about you sending back unedited requests, they’ll be just as hard-headed about these talks coming to a halt. I still don’t doubt they’d cave eventually, but they’d drag it out as long as they could just to try screwing you over. They’re desperate, but they’re petty.”

The room was dead silent in the following minutes as Megatron fell back into thought, while the other attendees sat frozen in fear and anticipation. He agreed to be more assertive, but this is awfully bold. ..It’s respectable. ..And, he is correct. That Council of his would do just as he says, but are we to sit back and let them do with us as they please? To decide our fates by some foolish game? Megatron’s brow furrowed as he took a deep breath in, and slowly exhaled. “..Send back our terms, unedited.”

“..Yes, Lord Megatron.” A bit hesitant, Shockwave added those to a new file to send after this meeting.

Not particularly happy with the choice he had to make, Megatron straightened his posture back to something more regal as his optics glided across all those present. The discomfort on their faces was evident; they likely expected their leader to explode in anger, or to at least go off on the Autobot. ..The Autobot. Optimus had yet to look up from his datapad once. He just sat staring at it, scrolling through previous notes. Megatron found himself staring again. Despite his lowered head, Prime’s frame did enough to convey his person. His daintier shapes and lack of visible integrated weaponry almost made him look..unfinished somehow, and yet it wasn’t towards his detriment. On the contrary, Megatron found it interesting. Appealing, even. The more he looked, the more the Autobot’s smaller stature stood out against the largeness of everything else in the room, namely his chair. It would’ve been comical, had Megatron’s train of thought been of that nature. No, instead his mind wandered, as did his optics, around Optimus. Despite the Prime’s clear disinterest in being here, Megatron couldn’t help wondering if this was what he looked like when reading outside of these meetings..

“Lord Megatron?” Shockwave’s tired voice was enough to stop his processor from taking those thoughts any further, and was quite thankful for it. What were those? Knockout had said his code looked fine, but maybe one more visit couldn’t hurt, just to be sure.

“Continue with the meeting.” He forced his face back into a scowl as Shockwave began reading off a new list of the Council’s demands.

The hours passed with little progress, just the same things being regurgitated and sent back like the last ten times. Megatron tuned it out, knowing he’d miss nothing of importance. As much as he tried to keep his eyes on Shockwave, he continued subconsciously stealing glances or even staring at Optimus again. Every time he did, he wished the little bot would just look up. Megatron wanted to see his face again- he cut that thought process short again. What was wrong with him?! Knockout needed to find his malfunction, and fast. His face twitched. This meeting couldn’t be over soon enough.

~~~~~~

Optimus spent the entire meeting, pre and post talking, with his head down. Megatron kept staring at him, and Optimus didn’t want to risk provoking him. Raising his head could’ve been seen as an antagonistic gesture by the volatile warlord, especially with his current resting bitch face. Why does he keep looking at me? Did I really irritate him that much with what I said?! I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, he’s easy to set off especially if it’s me. He unknowingly wished the meeting would be over just as much as his observer did, but until his wish was realized, he contented himself with scrolling through old meeting notes and pretending to be busy.

Once Shockwave had finally concluded his practically memorized readings of Cybertron’s demands and they’d gotten absolutely nowhere again, the meeting was mercifully dismissed and he could skitter back to his room. ..Right after stopping to chat with Ratchet and get some more energon.

The medbay was just as bizarrely clean as the last time he’d been here. It still amazed him at how much brighter and cleaner it was than the rest of the ship, even despite it being a medical facility. Ratchet was thankfully present, his back to the door as Optimus entered, though he was accompanied by Knockout this time. They seemed to be engrossed in something on the counter.

“I said cut it, not butcher it! Tsch, you ‘Cons, always so quick to rush your work.”

“I will have you know, I am a master surgeon! I simply don’t work well with someone breathing down my neck!”

More than engrossed, they seemed heated. ..Maybe this is a bad time.. Optimus began to quietly walk backwards out the door, when he suddenly ran into something with a loud CLANG. Turning around, he realized the something was actually someone: Megatron. His spark froze and plummeted into his stomach as he quickly got out of the way to avoid being stepped on. He's staring at me again.. It feels worse when he’s above me instead of across. Strangely enough, Megatron didn’t seem to be in too bad a mood; his scowl wasn’t as harsh, though it was hard to tell with him sometimes.

“Ah! Lord Megatron, a pleasure to see you as always.” His attention immediately shifting, Knockout abandoned whatever he was fussing over with Ratchet and headed to his larger exam table, Megatron already having taken a seat.

“Hm? Whad’re you doin’ here kid? You not feelin well?” Ratchet noticed Optimus as he was just about gone, midstep out of the room.

“Oh..it’s nothing, I’m fine. I was just gonna stop and say hi. I can come back later, looks like you two will be busy.” He just wanted to leave..

“Ah nonsense. Get in here, I’ll give you a quick look. I wanna make sure you’re doing better since the last time you were here.” Grabbing his patient by the arm, Ratchet dragged him over to the smaller exam table and got him seated.

Optimus could cry. He didn’t want to be in a room with Megatron so soon after being cooped up with nothing but Decepticons for hours already! It didn’t help that he could feel Megatron’s optics boring holes into his back. Did I upset him that much?! Is he gonna demand another fight?! Am I gonna die? He just wanted to leave..

Noticing how tense Optimus was, as well as his reason for it, Ratchet worked a bit faster. “How ya been holdin’ up?”

Optimus shrugged. “Fine. Not getting anywhere with the Council, but what else is new?”

“Hm. Not surprising, they’ve always been like that. Don’t let it getcha down, just keep peckin’ at em. You’ll get there. Besides, it’s not just the Council being stubborn.” Catching Megatron’s gaze, Ratched glared at him, causing the Decepticon to look away.

“We’ve been at it for weeks, Ratchet, we’ve made no progress..” He would’ve said more if not for the giant, violent elephant in the room. No point in making him even more angry.

“You’re smart, kid. Really smart. Crafty. And I know you’re not gonna drop this, you’re too good to give up on this assignment.” Not pressing the issue further, Ratchet quickly finished up. “Welp, everything’s lookin’ tip top. You’re free to go.”

Relieved, Optimus hopped off the table and gave his joints a quick stretch. “Thanks Ratchet.” And Primus. “I’ll uh..get out of your circuits for now. I might stop by later to chat.” He just wanted to leave as fast as he could.

“Just a minute there, kid.” As Optimus had finally made a dash for freedom, Ratchet grabbed his wrist. “Take this with you.”

Turning, Optimus saw a fresh cube of energon being held out to him. He gladly accepted the drink, subspacing it, and giving the old doctor a nod. “Thank you, Ratchet.. Take care, ok?”

“You too, kid..you too.” Letting go of Prime’s hand, Ratchet lingered in place as he watched his friend leave. Poor kid.. It’s too much too soon. Sighing, the old bot returned to his little swivel chair, plopping down like a rock. All things considered, Ratchet’s time aboard the ship had been mundane. As stressful as medical work was, he was used to it after all these centuries. He had discovered, however, that Decepticons were far more reckless than even some of the worst Autobots he’d treated. Aside from Bumblebee of course, that kid was one of the most insane, hyper, careless adrenaline junkies he’d ever met, and the amount of times he’d already been in the medbay left a distinct yellow shape practically burned into Ratchet’s eyes. He was always making excuses for his injuries by going on about some ‘Con he ‘made friends’ with, or how he was ‘training’ to ‘get stronger and finally kick Blitzwing’s skidplate’. Bumblebee always seemed to get a little flushed and pouty when he talked about that.

He fiddled with a pen, his processor swimming and his optics aimlessly wandering around the room..before landing on Megatron. The Decepticon was fixated on the door, paying little attention to Knockout. “My Liege? ..Lord Megatron!”

“What is it, Knockout?” Megatron’s eyes didn’t leave the door, even when the rest of his attention did.

“Your checkup is over, you’re free to leave.”

“Did you run a code diagnostic?”

“Lord Megatron, you requested the same thing just days ago. Your code looked perfectly fine, I highly doubt there would have been any change.”

“I do not like repeating myself, Knockout.” Megatron finally looked away from the door, his attention now on his doctor. There was a sharpness in his voice and optics as he looked down at Knockout, who shrank back a little.

“I’ll..get right on that.” He scurried away to retrieve a data cable, getting everything set up quickly to avoid his leader’s ire.

Ratchet watched the whole interaction, only slightly amused. He was moreso curious and worried about Megatron’s demeanor towards Optimus. That old scrap heap really has it out for the kid. I swear to Primus, if that ‘Con tries anything, that peace treaty will be the least of his worries. The medic stood up with a grunt, his joints creaking with every movement. “Yer on your own. I’m takin a walk.” Giving Knockout a tired wave, Ratchet was off, his grumbling growing quieter as he retreated down the hall.

“You seem to be getting along quite well.” The sarcasm and irritation in Megatron’s voice was thick enough to cut.

“You’d be surprised, my Liege. Ratchet is abrasive and almost certainly doesn’t like me, but he is a skilled doctor. Sometimes, he's even nice.” By now, Knockout finished hooking up the cable and Megatron’s code analysis was well under way. “Now. What’s on your mind?”

“Pardon?” Megatron’s eyes narrowed, confused and not exactly appreciating Knockout’s boldness. What was his doctor insinuating? That there was something wrong with him outside of his code?

“Exactly what I asked, my Liege. Until I see some error in your code, I am inclined to believe there is something else going on. Is it stress perhaps? Something to do with your meetings? Or..someone to do with the meetings?”

“The meetings are proceeding as I expected, and all attendees are behaving accordingly. I fail to see how the expected outcome could cause me stress.” He wasn’t lying, per se, more like omitting the truth. He was stressed, and it was building day by day. No part of these peace talks was expected to be easy, but he was desperate to get them moving; his people needed help and the Council was really hindering his ability to provide for them.

“And what of the Autobot? Oh what’s his name… Optimus?”

Megatron’s eye twitched again. “What of him?”

“Oh, well perhaps I’m reaching a bit, but you seem to have a vested interest in him.”

His face morphed into a scowl, glaring down at Knockout from the corner of his eye. “I do not appreciate what you are insinuating.”

“I wouldn’t dare insinuate anything, my Liege.” Despite his calm demeanor, Knockout would be sweating bullets if he could. “Only making an observation.” His other observation being Megatron’s spark rate briefly spiking on the vitals monitor.

“Then I suggest you watch your language, Knockout.” Megatron looked back at the door then quickly shifted his attention to the nearby wall.

“As you wish, my Liege.” Shrugging, Knockout dropped the subject and finished the examination in silence.

Megatron paid him no mind, not even noticing the soft beeps and humming of the machinery he was hooked up to as he continued mentally arguing with Knockout. ‘Vested interest’. A vested interest in his downfall perhaps. In his humiliation. There is nothing else of interest to be found in him. He’s as useless in those meetings as the rest of his Council. Fitting, as he is a part of it. Though..he does seem to have more interest in actually making progress than they do. ..He’s only here because he has to be. He’s only doing this because he has to. He said so himself. …Does he read in between meetings? He seems to have some interest in history, perhaps he would like access to my library again.. I could use that as leverage, bribery perhaps. Yes, I can give him more topics to discuss and gain his trust through conversation. I could use that against him, get him comfortable around me, and as I crush him under my foot I will see the fear in his eyes. ..How are they so blue? So..bright? Strangely, he felt almost disappointed he didn’t get to see those optics today at the meeting. Before that thought could fully form, he cut his train of thought. He didn’t like where it was going. Just bad code.

He was thankful when Knockout finally pulled out the cable. “Well my Liege, as I suspected, your code is perfectly normal. Your spark rate and brain activity were elevated, which I wouldn’t doubt could be stress related.”

Same diagnosis as last time. This wasn’t good enough for Megatron, it wasn’t an answer! At least not a satisfactory one. It was that damned Autobot. He’d somehow weaseled his way into Megatron’s mind, gnawing at it constantly. His attitude and persistence were irritating to be sure, and him constantly besting Megatron in combat was more than humiliating, and yet his anger over these things was but a simmer, having recently given way to curiosity. And Megatron hated it. How could he possibly feel anything but a boiling rage towards this particular Autobot, who’d been the biggest thorn in his side for ages now? He didn’t want to think about it, so he didn’t. Or at least he tried not to. Pesky Autobot.

“My Liege?” Knockout had caught his leader lost in thought again, trying to get his attention without provoking him. Megatron didn’t move, only glancing down. “I was saying, since you appear stressed, try taking a break. Even if it’s just for tonight, take some time to not think about..everything. Go relax in your quarters, take some time for yourself. Doctor’s orders.”

Megatron decided it would be pointless to argue. As easily wigged as Knockout was, he could be quite bull-headed when it came to his patients. Still fuming over his entire situation, he left in silence, tromping back to his quarters. He needed a distraction right now; he couldn’t be alone with his thoughts.

~~~~~~

Optimus had gone straight to his room from the medbay, his spark pounding the entire way. Finally in his room, he leaned against the wall, trying to steady his venting. Megatron had been staring at him so much and so intently today, and he genuinely didn’t know why. Was I too bold in the meeting? Too blunt? I said I’d be more assertive and he seemed to agree with me, was he lying? Was he trying to get my guard down? Please don’t come by for another ‘talk’..please please please don’t.. Taking a deep breath in and out, he finally felt his systems returning to normal, though he was still beyond anxious. Shuffling over to his recharge slab, he flopped down and rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling for a while. Glancing over at the picture of his team, his spark ached. Nothing made sense..he wanted to go home. He just wanted this all to be over…

Chapter Text

The next day started without a meeting. The Council had yet to send back a reply, likely bickering about what they should do. Optimus, however, would be woken even before that by an irritating alert from his datapad. Groaning, he rolled over, still half asleep, to see just what was so important to wake him at this unholy hour. His sleepiness rapidly vanished upon seeing a call request from Ultra Magnus. Shooting up into a seated position, he fumbled the datapad, answering it just before the call went to voicemail.”Sir! Ultra Magnus Sir…and...Senator Botanica…and Alpha Trion..” This was going to be a rough morning.

“Optimus Prime. I hope you are doing well.” Ultra Magnus’ voice was as flat and stoic as ever. “Do pardon this unexpectedly early call. I presume you already know what this is about.”

Optimus wasn’t certain, but he could make a very educated guess. “..Was it about yesterday’s meeting with the Decepticons?”

“The Council is concerned about the Decepticons’ repeated unwillingness to compromise. We would simply like to discuss this issue with you and try to find a solution.”

A solution. There really was only one solution, but Optimus didn’t think the Council would appreciate his suggestion right now. He just wanted to sleep. “I’ll let you start, Sir.”

Clearing his throat, Ultra Magnus did just that. “This most recent meeting on your end seemed to make no progress. Our most recent addendums and edits, particularly those in regards to the monitoring of Decepticons residing on Cybertron and the requested additions in our rebuilding efforts.”

“What’s the issue with them, Sir?”

“They are asking for too much. The leniency the Decepticons want in monitoring is simply not doable.”

“Well, I can see how explosive implants may be a bit..extreme. Are explosives and trackers really necessary? I know they’re Decepticons, but..” He trailed off, not finishing his thought.

“These are dangerous criminals, Optimus. ‘Extreme’ is the only option.”

“Sir, they’re not all violent. They’re not all soldiers! They have civilians, just the same as Autobots. Theirs just...happen to be bigger.” And have built-in weapons and war machine alt modes.

“Regardless, we can not give them such excessive freedoms. We are already taking a security risk by allowing them to be here in the first place.”

Something didn’t sit well with Optimus about what Magnus had just said. “Remind me, Sir... How have the planetside Decepticons been monitored so far?”

“I assure you, Optimus, they have been taken care of accordingly.”

“That’s not what I asked, Sir.” Prime’s voice unconsciously grew more stern.

“Any Decepticon caught misbehaving or breaking the current law has been dealt with accordingly. That is final.”

“No, it’s not final, Sir. I need an answer.”

Ultra Magnus stayed silent for a moment. His expression dropping was imperceptible to anyone but the most attentive. “That is not information you are privy to, Opti-”

“With all due respect, Sir, I am your representative on this ship, and I can’t provide effective counsel if I’m being kept in the dark.” He was starting to get irritated. When had his patience grown so short?

Ultra Magnus remained stone-faced, his own frustration growing. “Any Decepticon caught misbehaving or breaking the current law has been dealt with accordingly. They have been arrested and taken to a high-security facility to be registered.”

“And have any been released?”

“Any released have been registered in the Cybertronian criminal database.”

“And?”

Magnus paused again. “‘And’ nothing more.”

He didn’t trust that one bit. “The explosive chips you proposed? You haven’t already implemented those?”

“Nothing not set in stone has been implemented, Optimus.”

“All released Decepticon criminals have been given an irremovable explosive collar with a built-in tracking device.” Senator Botanica’s interruption was welcome, though not very reassuring. Explosive collars were barely a step under the suggested chips.

“I’ll be sure to let Megatron and his Generals know of this development.” He begins jotting down a note.

“That won’t be necessary, Optimus.” There was almost some haste in Ultra Magnus’ voice.

“Would you rather tell him yourself then?”

“As much as we would like to be in attendance, we can not. The rebuilding efforts here on Cybertron are consuming much of our time, as you already know.”

“I’m sure you could make time to attend some of our meetings. After all, you’re making time now, aren’t you?” All his recent fear and stress came bubbling up as his speech grew more snappy.

“This is an exception. The rebuilding of Cybertron is our top priority right now.”

“If it’s your ‘top priority,’ then you should be attending these meetings. They’re imperative to the rebuilding of our home!”

“Due to outstanding circumstances, we can not do that. That is precisely the reason we sent you in our stead.”

“I’m the political equivalent of a middle manager! All this does is slow down the process of getting these things done. If any of you could bother to be at the meetings, we wouldn’t have to send things back and forth seventy times, we could just get it done in one go! If you really cared about Cybertron, or its people, or actually making any progress, you’d make an effort to be here!”

The Senators grew still and silent, taken aback by Optimus’ increasingly escalating demeanor. He had continually raised his voice at Ultra Magnus, culminating in such a bold accusation. The air was thick with tension, practically clinging to their frames. As his frustration died down, it slowly dawned on Optimus just what he’d done. He’d lost his temper with the Council yet again; he wasn’t sure how much grace he had left to be given from them. He tried not to let his fear show, but felt like he’d start shaking at any moment.

Ultra Magnus blankly looked back at him, the other Senators growing restless. As calm as his face was, there was a distinct air about Ultra Magnus. He was clearly irritated, angry even. Seconds felt like minutes felt like hours. Eventually, Ultra Magnus finally spoke. “Carry on as you were, Optimus. This meeting is dismissed.”

The screen turned black, and Optimus was left to stare at his reflection in it. Finally alone and unperceived, his frame loosened enough to begin shaking. His breathing grew choppy as two big tears fell on the darkened screen. He closed his eyes, sliding down into a little ball, and tried to fall back asleep despite the early hour.

~~~~~~

As per usual, Bumblebee was finding it impossible to sit still. Primus knows he’d tried, but despite Ratchet’s chastising, he just had to go do something. He had to move. Lately, he’d taken up sparring with Blitzwing, much to the old doctor’s ire. It wasn’t exactly that Bumblebee and the Decepticon had agreed to keep meeting up, it was more like Bumblebee would just constantly check on the training room he knew Blitzwing used and would pop in. He ‘just happened to be passing by,’ even after he’d figured out Blitzwing’s training schedule. Originally, the jumpy yellow bot had been coming back with the goal of beating Blitzwing in a rematch but had continually failed, the bigger bot always coming out on top, figuratively and literally. Time and again, Bumblebee had found himself pinned to the ground or the wall, completely immobilized and quite irritated. At least the sparring part was fun. He took much enjoyment in spitting quippy insults at Blitzwing and getting him all worked up, at least until it came back to bite him…which was a thing Blitzwing also threatened to do to him, aside from beating or tearing him apart.

Bumblebee paced around his room. The more he thought about fighting Blitzwing, the more excited he got. Unfortunately, his door had been locked from the outside by his so-called ‘teammates’. Ratchet had gotten mighty tired of fixing him and had placed him on ‘medically mandated house arrest.’ But he needed to get his energy out so badly! What was a bot to do? As he continued his pacing, he happened to notice a small vent grate in the top corner of the room. A mischievous grin spread across his face. Maybe...

After a few minutes of fiddling, Bumblebee had managed to stack several random, unstable items on top of his bed into a very rickety, debatably climbable assemblage. The climb was perilous, with several near-falls, but he eventually made it to the top. Removing the screws was the easiest part of the whole ordeal. Throwing the grate to his bed, the opening was just big enough for him to wiggle through and start on his dusty, winding journey to the training room.

~~~~~~

‘Relax,’ he said. ‘Take some time for yourself’, he said. How am I meant to do that with so much depending on me?! Megatron had tried to take Knockout’s advice and follow his medical orders, but it was impossible. He couldn’t sit by and relax while the fate of his people rested on his shoulders so heavily!

He leaned his head back, rubbing his face. The couch he was on suddenly felt like a rock. Megatron had confined himself to his quarters since visiting Knockout, hoping some isolation would do him good. On the contrary, being alone with his thoughts had only exacerbated his worries and other undesirable thoughts. His mind drifted and ping-ponged all day and night, nearly driving him insane. Those damned Senators are impeding our progress. Do they not care? Is it on purpose? There’s no point in this endless back and forth. It gets us nowhere! That Autobot they sent me barely seems to care anymore. All he does is argue with me and act stubborn! What does it matter if he’s here on the Council’s behalf? His presence is but a feeble facade on their part to pretend they want this to get anywhere. He is as stubborn and insubordinate as any Autobot, and it is becoming increasingly frustrating to see him squandered on such a useless position! What do I care what the Council does with him? He’s been nothing but a barricade to my plans in the past, and even now, he’s being used as one! That annoying little Autobot has beaten and humiliated me at every turn...so what does it matter what happens to him? The more miserable he is, the better. Misery will break him faster and get him out of my circuits...Although, his face is...wrong when he’s upset. There’s something about it I despise. Does he think about his hatred of me when he looks like that?

Megatron had recently begun noticing a strange feeling every time Optimus was around or when he thought of the Autobot. His tanks tightened and felt like they were flipping, his mood shifting to a strange type of irritation he couldn’t explain. He wouldn’t necessarily call it a bad feeling; he’d been annoyed and angry with the Autobot plenty of times before, but this was different. Annoying little Autobot. Even when I need rest, you still find a way to bother me.

Growling out a sigh, he slid down to the floor and elected to stay there on his back. It was more comfortable than the couch, anyway. Peace still eluded him, thoughts fighting in his processor for dominance, and the ones of Prime’s gentle smile and bright optics were winning.

~~~~~~

After many a wrong turn and harrowing fall, Bumblebee finally made it to the training room. Looking through the vent cover, he saw Blitzwing was already sparring with one of the big, rotating training dummies. Bumblebee was very eager to get the drop on his opponent, but the grate stood in his way.

Rubbing his two brain cells together, a thought formed! Scooting back from the vent’s opening to the nearest bend in the vent, he flipped onto his back and tensed his body. The wheels on his shoulders and legs rapidly spinning, he shot back towards the opening and rammed the grate off, flying into the open air of the room. Twisting around mid-fall, he readied his stingers as Blitzwing finally took notice of what caused such a loud noise. But his realization came too late. Bumblebee rammed into his chest and discharged his built-up energy, causing the larger bot to jerk and his joints to freeze briefly. Five seconds in, and his patience was already growing thin.

“Eat that, Blitzbrain!” Grinning, Bumblebee pushed off of his chest, landing on a broken-down piece of equipment nearby. Already pleased with getting the drop on Blitzwing, he zoomed back in for another barrage of attacks. He was over in a flash, jabbing at his opponent’s ankles as the larger bot stumbled, unable to regain his footing. Narrowly avoiding one of Blitzwing’s missteps, he nearly tripped as he dodged towards a weapons rack.

“Insolent bug! Vhen I get my servos on you, you'll regret ever being created!” Blitzwing’s Angry face made an appearance, likely to stay for a while. Finally regaining his footing, he swatted at the zigzagging Autobot, narrowly missing Bumblebee as the smaller bot zooms to the top of the rack. He lunges forward and makes another grab, again missing as the annoying yellow bot dodges.

Having avoided being squished a second time, Bumblebee jumped up from the weapon rack, spinning down towards Blitzwing’s face. A half second before making contact, he revs his wheels, and, upon touching down, does a burnout on his opponent’s cheek. The force threw back Blitzwing’s head enough for Bumblebee to launch off it, back on top of the dummy Blitzwing had been fighting seconds earlier. “How’s that taste, glitch head?” He was grinning wide as Blitzwing struggled to pull various training weapons that were stuck in his joints.

Giving up on that, Blitzwing simply clenched his fist, snapping anything stuck in between his fingers. Shifting into a bracing stance, his cannons fell forward, expelling a tidal wave of fire towards his biggest nuisance. “It vill taste better cooked!”

Bumblebee narrowly missed the worst of it, only his right ankle and wheel were licked by the flames. Hissing at the pain, he grabbed onto a climbing bar on the wall, perching in anticipation of the next attack. It was hard to focus through the pain, but he had to win this.

Pausing his assault just long enough to turn, Blitzwing shot another wave of fire towards Bumblebee. There was enough distance between them to comfortably dodge, but as Bumblebee landed, his injured ankle gave out, eliciting a small shout of pain. He scrambled to his feet, trying to keep the weight off that foot, but it was too late. Blitzwing’s hand wrapped around his tiny frame with ease, lifting Bumblebee to his eye level. With one more smirk from Angry, his head spun, and the high-pitched cackle of Random soon echoed through the room.

Scrap, scrap, scrap, I can't go out, not like this! Bumblebee squirmed and struggled in a vain attempt to escape, but his opponent’s grip was far too strong. My stingers! Scrap, do I have enough charge left? Before he could act on that, however, Random’s laughter intensified as he began to spin around in the center of the room, arms outstretched as if he were frolicking in a field of flowers. Everything blurred as Bumblebee spun faster, the centrifugal force pushing his head back as he yelled in panic and, if he were being honest, a little bit of excitement at the intensity of the ride.

After only about ten seconds, Blitzwing began to slow down and eventually came to a stop, teetering a bit himself as he kept laughing. Shaking his head fast, the bigger bot would spare no time in slamming his disoriented foe into the ground and began doing a silly little victory dance. “I win, I win! Lalala lala la!”

Bumblebee’s vision was swimming, his audials ringing, and his entire frame pulsating with a dull pain, much of it radiating from his ankle. I lost? Again?! I can feel every dent on me. Oh man, Ratchet’s gonna kill me! For real this time! He tried to sit up but felt nauseous. Looks like I’m staying in this hole for a while. Blitzwing’s singing was really starting to get on his nerves, though. “Can you be quiet?! You sound like a choking seagull!”

As fast as those words left his mouth, Blitzwing was looming over him on all fours, still laughing maniacally. “Aww, jou’re so cute vhen jou’re mad! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

With a sudden burst of adrenaline making him forget every bit of discomfort he was in right now, Bumblebee shot out from under Blitzwing, scrambling to his feet. “ExCUSE ME?!”

“Jou heard me, Autobot!” Blitzwing now lay on his stomach with his chin propped on his hands, kicking his feet and giggling.

Bumblebee had no response to that. He leaned on the wall, eye twitching and face red. With a frustrated growl, he stumbled out and down the hall towards the medbay. If he thinks he can embarrass me into giving up, he’s got another thing comin’! I will not let him win again.

Chapter Text

Bumblebee sat hunched over on the exam table, arms crossed and fuming. Cute. I’m not cute, I’m fierce! I’m scary! How dare he call me cute?!

“This is the last time I fix you! You’re responsible for your own carelessness next time!” Ratchet was, understandably and unsurprisingly, very angry.

“Cool your circuits doc bot, you said the same thing the last six times.” Bumblebee huffed, looking away from Ratchet.

“Well this time, I mean it! You couldn’t even stay in your locked room!” The old doctor growled as he banged out another dent on his patient.

“What’s the big deal, Ratchet? I’m fine!” He winced as Ratchet hit a sensitive spot.

“You most certainly are not fine! You’re small, and he’s a Decepticon! The fact that you have to come here every time you ‘spar’ is all the proof I need that you are not fine!” Grumbling, he moved on to the next dent, not being particularly gentle. “Why d’you care so much about beating him anyway? Just drop it and you won’t have to listen to me nagging you any more.”

“It’s the principle of it, Ratchet! I gotta beat him! I gotta even the playing field.” He started gesturing, forcing Ratchet to stop his work as he was accidentally elbowed in the face.

Rubbing his nose, Ratchet almost considered stopping his treatment right there. “Well I don’t know how exactly you plan to ‘level’ the field with someone four times your size, but as long as it doesn’t land you back here with more injuries than brain cells, knock yourself out.” He continued working as Knockout peeked around a corner briefly, thinking he’d heard his name. Realizing he was wrong, he rolly chaired back into his office.

Bumblebee pouted, huffing again. How do I ‘level the field’? I’m doing my best in the training room, but he keeps getting me every time! And when he pinned me, and called me CUTE?! Raaaagghhhhh!! …Ahh, I see what he’s doing. Blitzwing’s trying to make me uncomfortable so I’ll leave him alone! He’s scared he’s gonna lose to me so he’s trying a last ditch effort! HA! A smug grin spread over his face. Well two can play at that game. If he wants uncomfortable, I’ll give him uncomfortable!

His mood increased dramatically as he formulated his plan. By the time Ratchet was done, Bumblebee was itching to go enact it. It was foolproof! Excited and impatient, he hopped down the second the old bot was done. “Thanks doc bot!” With not a second to spare, he transformed and sped off to set his revenge in motion, leaving Ratchet scratching his head.

~~~~~~

Blurr had spent the entirety of his time aboard the Decepticon ship in his room or in Jazz’s room. Anything was better than potentially running into Shockwave again. Today was shaping up to be like any other, with Blurr settling in to read his one and only book for the twentieth time, when there was a light knock on his door. Strange, he wasn’t expecting anyone. He didn’t immediately open it for the likely stranger, instead staying silent and hoping they went away. If it was someone he actually wanted to see, those bots had his comm. Just as he was about to return to reading, another knock came, this one a little harder. Blurr continued to stay quiet, hoping his unwanted guest would leave.

“I know you’re in there, Blurr.” The familiar cadence of Shockwave’s voice sent chills up the blue bot’s spine. After another lack of answer, the tiredness in Shockwave’s voice was tangible. “I’m not here to hurt you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“And why would I believe that?!” Blurr’s fear got the better of him, shouting out a panicked sentence before slapping a hand over his mouth.

“Because if I so much as scratch you, Lord Megatron will have my head. Just open the door, I have a job for you.”

“You can tell me what it is from the other side of the foot thick sheet of metal between us.” He curled up, hugging himself. As much as he tried to keep it together, Blurr’s anger and fear leaked into his tone.

Blurr could practically hear Shockwave rolling his eye. “One of the dock workers injured his back and is taking medical leave. You’re fast and not the weakest bot aboard the ship so you’re going to push pallet carts, I have all the details on this datapad.”

“And why would I do a favor for a Decepticon?”

“Because I said so.”

“And what if I don’t?”

“Then you will be forcefully removed from your quarters to assist.”

Huffing, Blurr refused to move. Why should he open the door? Why should he listen to Shockwave?

“Fine, I’ll go, just leave first.”

There was a long pause where Blurr listened for retreating footsteps, but none came. The silence was broken by an exasperated sigh from Shockwave’s side of the door. “If this is about me attempting to kill you, I’m sorry. It was a poor choice on my end, and I have regretted it since.” Shockwave’s tone seemed genuine but forced, like he was uncomfortable apologizing.

Blurr inhaled sharply. Regret?! Now?! Why lie about it just to get me out of my room?! His face contorted with anger as his frame began shaking. Shockwave had the audacity to come here and do this right now? With a burning rage in his optics, he flung open the door and snatched the datapad from Shockwave’s claws. “You wouldn’t know regret if it stared you in the face.” He hissed, speaking uncharacteristically slow.

“Regret is staring at me, and is rather upset.”

Why did Shockwave seem remorseful? He hadn’t had a second thought about offing Blurr before, right? So why start feeling bad now? “Don’t talk to me.” Scowling, Blurr sped off as fast as his alt mode could carry him through the winding halls. The faster he went and the further he was from his would-be murderer, the better he felt.

Shockwave, on the other hand, was left alone in the hall, watching long after Blurr had disappeared. He didn’t know where the sudden urge to apologize had come from, but it could’ve been more eloquent. All it had left him with was an empty feeling in his body, and a tight knot in his chest. “I’m sorry..”

~~~~~~

Bumblebee had scoured half the ship in search of Blitzwing with no luck. It was disheartening, but he couldn’t give up yet, he had to enact this plan today. Or, more like he wanted to do it today; time wasn’t really an issue, he was just impatient. He came to a screeching halt outside his next stop: the mess hall.

Inside, the room was loud with chatter and jam packed with Decepticons enjoying their breaks. Being as small as he was, Bumblebee found it nearly impossible to see anything from the entrance, but going any further could prove dangerous. But for the sake of his pride, he had to. Taking a deep vent in and out, he scampered further in, dodging footsteps as he wove through legs and under tables. If only he were taller…

For the second time today, his brain cells created a thought! On the far side of the room was a line of drink dispensers with just enough room on top for him to crouch. In two seconds flat, he’d carefully plotted out a course to the top-

Of course he had no plan, winging it was more his style. Diving under a table, he skittered up the leg of a seated bot up to his shoulder, startling the poor Decepticon. Not paying that any mind, he jumped onto a passerby, then onto another, then another, keeping nice and high off the ground as he moved closer to his destination, still not caring about the confusion he left in his wake. With one final jump, he made it to the top of a shorter dispenser and had clambered to the top of his desired one in seconds. Finally perched, he scanned the room for his quarry.

Bingo. At a middle table by the windows was Blitzwing. He was a good distance away, but it was worth a shot. He was so close, he couldn’t give up now! With a determined wiggle, Bumblebee pounced onto the head of another unsuspecting passerby, startling him into dropping his drink, and seconds later came careening down onto the table in front of Blitzwing.

The bigger bot nearly choked on his drink, startled by the sudden presence of his biggest nuisance. Bumblebee, for his part, stood authoritatively with his hands on his hips, his best attempt at anger on his face. “How dare you?!”

Blitzwing looked at him with bewilderment, genuinely confused at what was going on.

“You dare call me cute and pin me down and don’t even have the decency to buy me dinner first?! Shame on you!” Bumblebee leaned forward and raised his voice, doing his best impression of a trashy drama Sari had made him watch.

The room began to grow quiet as those present sat in shock and anticipation at the mess this would surely become.

His campaign of public humiliation was working! Blitzwing was still clearly baffled, much to Bumblebee’s satisfaction. But, to his dissatisfaction, a barely perceptible smirk spread over Blitzwing’s Icy face for half a second before it spun around to Random yet again.

“Steak, or sushi? AHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Blitzwing leaned his chin on his hands like he had earlier, clearly playing Bumblebee’s game.

Bumblebee pouted and leaned closer. ‘Level the playing field’. Oh sure, as if he wouldn’t keep trying to upstage me! Whatever, whatever, I’m not losing this time! “You. Me. Here, tonight, 9 pm sharp. Bring your best personality.”

“Zhen it’s a date!” Random giggled in the same tone he had earlier, making Bumblebee grit his teeth.

“Great! It’s gonna be lovely, I can’t wait!” He practically yelled his final sentence before jumping off the table so Blitzwing couldn’t get the last word. With a defiant ‘Hmph’, he turned up his nose and proudly left the dead silent cafeteria.

Blitzwing just shrugged and continued his drink.

~~~~~~

The day was winding down, and Ratchet had seen the last of his patients. He sat cleaning his instruments as the sound of a welder echoed from the other bed where Knockout was working on some poor dock worker who’d thrown out his back. Their bickering over nothing was getting on the old bot’s nerves as he continually tried to block it out to no avail.

“Quit squirming, Wrench, I can’t fix your back if you keep moving!”

“Well maybe I wouldn’t if you'd give me more painkillers!”

“I’ve given you enough to put a Titan to sleep! Now quit moving, or I’ll have to tie you down!”

“Oh, don’t even go there!” Wrench struggled to prop himself up, being in the middle of surgery, but managed to get up enough to look down on Knockout. “You can’t tell me what to do, you’re just a tiny mech with no-”

Ratchet had enough of listening to this, he was starting to get a headache. Hobbling over, he activated the table restraints and injected more sedative directly into the base of Wrench’s brain stem, grumbling with some relief as the guy finally passed out and began snoring. Rolling his optics, Ratchet returned to his seat and continued like nothing happened.

Knockout watched him for a few seconds before returning to work. “...Thank you.”

“Uh huh.”

He continued the surgery for a few silent minutes, unsure if pushing the conversation was smart. “...Is it..normal to inject a sedative that close to the brain module?”

“Nope.”

Clearly Ratchet didn’t want to talk. Fidgeting with his mouth, Knockout tried to move his focus entirely to his patient. Once Ratchet finished cleaning however, he slowly ambled back over to watch, clearly scrutinizing every one of Knockout’s movements. It was honestly nerve wracking for the younger doctor, having someone staring over his shoulder as he performed a rather delicate part of a spinal procedure. Knockout scoffed, growing irritated. “Your hovering isn’t going to make this go any faster, you know.”

“I know. Just wanted to see somethin’.” There was a hint of judgment in Ratchet’s voice.

“Well, you’ve seen it. Now let me work in peace.”

“No, I haven’t seen it yet, so I’m gonna stay right here.”

“What’re you even looking for anyway?”

“I’ll know when I see it.”

Knockout growled, but relented. There was no point in arguing. Ratchet would never back down, especially not when it came to medicine. About a half hour later, the surgery was complete and Wrench was still out cold. Heaving a loud sigh of exhaustion, he plopped onto his chair, head tilted back as he collected himself.

“Where’d you go to school?” After such a long silence, Ratchet’s scratchy voice tore through the room.

“What?”

“Where’d you go to medical school?”

“...I didn’t.”

Back in his own chair, Ratchet crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t.”

“No.”

Now it was Ratchet’s turn to wonder if he should push the conversation further. The two spent a few more minutes in awkward silence. “...You know a good bit about doctors’ work. What, did you flunk out?”

“I never got to attend.”

“Well, where’d you apply?”

“Protihex.”

“Hm.” Being accepted to the most prestigious medical academy on Cybertron was quite a feat. A rejection was so common though, it was nothing to get upset over at this point. “Don’t let it getcha down, nobody gets accepted there.”

“Oh, I was accepted. I just made the ‘wrong’ choice when they gave me an ultimatum.”

Wrong choice? What kind of school gives a prospective student some tough decision to gain admittance? Ratchet’s brow furrowed in thought as he leaned back, rather curious now.

Knockout hesitated to continue. Was it a good idea to keep going? Did Ratchet even care? Was he just trying to get dirt on him? He took a minute to mull it over, relenting. “...They didn’t like that I was Conjunxed to a low class security worker.” A lump began forming in his throat. “Said I’d have to leave him if I wanted to go to school.”

That made too much sense. Autobot society had a habit of sweeping shady practices under the rug, and a prestigious institution like Protihex wasn’t any different. If anything, they were some of the worst. “Well that ain’t fair.”

“No! It’s not! Why should I be punished for loving someone?!” Knockout’s relatively calm demeanor failed as his emotions erupted. “I just wanted to help people, and I’m being denied that because some pencil pusher hates my partner?!” His voice cracked as he barely held back his tears.

Ratchet looked away and bit his cheek, not really sure what to do. He was a doctor, not a therapist! He gave terrible advice! “...And that’s how you ended up here?”

Knockout nodded weakly. “I wouldn’t give up what I have with Breakdown if Primus Himself ordered me to.” He sniffled. “It’s not ideal but leaving was the best choice.”

Ratchet had to admit he admired the kid’s dedication, both to his work and to his partner. “...You’re doin’ what you can with what you have. I can respect that.”

“Respect? Respect?! Don’t mock me, you hate me!”

Ratchet blinked in shock. “Where’d you get the idea that I hate you?”

“Well, you grumble at everything I do, you nitpick, I hear you muttering about ‘those damn Decepticons’ constantly, and just earlier you got on my case about not being able to properly suture a cyber grape! When would that ever be an applicable skill?!” His voice raised in frustration as he started gesturing to relieve some of his feelings.

Ratchet was genuinely surprised to see Knockout like this. He was so used to seeing the younger bot act snarky and nonchalant, this almost didn’t feel real. He had no idea what to do. “Don’t take it personal, I’m like that with everyone.”

“I don’t know what to do, Ratchet! I’ve been scraping by for centuries with what little I could find in books, but it’s only so much!” His voice quivered. “I just want to be a good doctor..”

Ratchet was frozen in his seat. Where’d this come from? Shit, waddo I do?! He glanced away, not giving a response as Knockout started cleaning his own tools. Do I say something? He remained like this until Knockout was basically done putting his stuff away. “...Kid, you are a good doctor. You’ve helped every idiot who’s come through those doors leave in better health than they were before their injuries. Your techniques are amateur, but with some training you could be something great.”

“You..you mean it?” He didn’t dare hope for anything right now, as much as he wanted to.

“Yyep. You just need a little…shaping.” With a grunt, he got up from his chair.

“Are you..offering to mentor me?”

“If that’s what you wanna call it.”

Knockout’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. “Really?! I get to train with the Ratchet?!”

“Pardon?”

“Oh this is exciting! I’ve followed your work for years! At least, when you still published for journals, then you kind of dropped off the map and I couldn’t find word of you and I assumed the worst but then you showed up here and-” Knockout continued rambling as Ratchet stood absolutely befuddled. He talks as much as Bumblebee..this might’ve been a mistake. He was startled when Knockout grabbed him by the shoulders. “I get it now! That’s why you made me do surgery on a grape!”

“Uh..yeah! Yeah, that was to uhm..help teach you patience and microsurgery.” That was partially true. It was also to give Knockout something to do so he’d leave Ratchet alone.

By now, Wrench had started to wake. “Cn yall shuddup? M’ trynna sleep!”

“Why don’t you go wake him up, kid? First assignment.” He gave his ‘apprentice’ a pat on the arm.

Knockout happily did so. Pulling out a small syringe, he injected his patient with a tranq reverser and waited. Within just a few seconds, Wrench was conscious and out of his restraints, sitting up. “....Thanks.”

“Of course. Now, you’re going back to your quarters and staying off your feet. No working, no fighting, nothing more strenuous than sitting. If anything feels wrong, come back to see me but otherwise your next checkup is in five days.” Writing a quick script, Knockout let Wrench leave on his own terms.

Giving him a low energy wave, Wrench was gone. Once the door closed, Knockout turned to Ratchet with a big, proud smile, like a puppy expecting a treat.

The old bot cracked the tiniest smile. “Get some rest kid, tomorrow’s gonna be a long one.”

With Knockout gone, Ratchet returned to his chair. The realization hit him all at once. Did I just offer to mentor a Decepticon? Primus help me, what did I get myself into?! The next day might be long, but tonight would be longer.

Chapter Text

“Hey, Magnus! How’s it pickin’ up trash?” Some passersby jeered and threw an empty cube at Sentinel, who was indeed collecting trash from a ditch. The last few months had not been kind since his demotion. His paint was more dull and chipped, his demeanor much quieter, and overall the bot seemed defeated, and rightfully so. Since his demotion to Minor, Sentinel’s group had been exclusively placed on the most unpleasant ‘community service’ assignments; cleaning ditches, picking up trash, sweeping streets..and the whole time, he was relentlessly mocked by Autobots and Decepticons alike. The whole experience left him hollow and bitter, lashing out at the slightest provocation. Being hit on the helm with the sharp corner of a used drink cube was more than slight.

“Oh, you wanna go, huh? Is that what you want?!” He threw down his collection bag and lunged up the side of the ditch, loose gravel and the steepness making it impossible to get out that way.

The onlookers just laughed harder as they stumbled down the road, likely to their next bar.

Sentinel growled as they walked away, letting out a frustrated yell as he punched the ditch wall. He breathed heavy, his engine revving and steam practically spilling out of every seam.

“Hey man, chill..” A soft voice fluttered into his audial and a gentle hand came to rest on his shoulder. Whipping his head around, Sentinel was greeted by the very punchable face of Smokescreen.

Grimacing, Sentinel shoved Smokescreen’s hand off and stomped back to his trash bag. The small ninja bot had been one of the only people to not be cruel to him, and Sentinel hated it. He was determined that Smokescreen was being fake, that he wanted something from Sentinel, or that he was just toying with the disgraced mech. Huffing angrily with every movement, he started shoving trash into the bag as the rest of his team of rejects watched cautiously. He could sense their optics on him. “What?!” He barked, spreading his arms threateningly. The rest of the team quickly looked away and returned to their own work.

The only one who didn't seem bothered by Sentinel’s outburst was Smokescreen. “Y’know, you could try being nicer. Nicer bots are easier to forgive.”

“‘Nicer’.” Sentinel scoffed. “You try being ‘nicer’ when you’re mocked every second of the day.”

“I mean..” He glanced around. “I kinda have experience there? ..I’m on this cleanup crew, aren’t I? Besides, my therapist says that-”

“Oh would you shut up about your therapist? No one slaggin’ cares!” Sentinel’s attitude towards Smokescreen wasn’t unusual, he blew up every time the smaller bot talked to him. And yet, Smokescreen was annoyingly nice and persistent.

Smokescreen simply shrugged and silently got back to work, not really caring if Sentinel despised him.

The former Magnus mumbled angrily as he worked. The more he thought about everything, the more force he used to shove things into the bag. Damn annoying ninja bot, what does he know? He has no idea what I’ve been through, I don’t deserve this! I shouldn’t be out here clearing trash, why am I here?! If anyone should be doing public service duty, it’s that damn Optimus, but he’s too busy canoodling with Decepticons to worry about anything else! Why should he be on a diplomatic mission and not me? Sure I made a couple missteps as Magnus but that shouldn’t condemn me, right?! He’s done equally as bad if not worse! I shouldn’t be a Minor! Ultra Magnus doesn’t know what he’s doing, he’s making one hell of a mistake doing this to me! I swear to Primus if I ever see him again-

His bag tore, spilling its contents over the ground. Sentinel stood staring at it, shaking as his rage came to a boil.

Noticing, Smokescreen started to reach out a hand. “Hey man, you ok-”

“Don’t…touch me.” Sentinel hissed and growled as his frame began to heave, heat noticeably radiating off him.

Smokescreen pulled back, realizing this might be a bad time. Without another word, he pulled out a fresh bag and set it on the ground by Sentinel.

Sentinel was dangerously close to overheating, some of his joints already beginning to lock up. His rage finally came to a rolling boil and just as he was about to explode-

“Sentinel Minor.” A strong, authoritative voice came from a looming shadow above.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the shapes of two tall bots, the Elite Guard insignia proudly displayed on their frames. The glint of the sunlight off it only fueled his anger.

“You have been ordered to appear before Ultra Magnus. You are to be escorted to his office posthaste.” There was no nonsense or mockery in the Elite Guardsmech’s voice, just a flat, straight to the point delivery. It grated on Sentinel’s audials, reminding him of Ultra Magnus’ manner of speaking.

With a low rumble, he calmed down. Not from any actual comfort, but from fear; fear of Ultra Magnus, fear of what he could do to Sentinel, and fear at what this meeting could be about. He clawed his way out of the ditch, receiving no help from anyone, and was walked to his destination in silence.

~~~~~~

The efforts to rebuild Cybertron had been proceeding at a snail’s pace. Everywhere, there seemed to be a new roadblock. The slowness of the meeting with the Decepticons, growing civil unrest from both sides, and a general shortage of resources were all piling up and giving Ultra Magnus the processor ache of the century. Exhaling, he finished reading the datapad he was holding and set it down on top of an ever-growing stack on the edge of his desk. He reached for the next one but stopped, rubbing his face instead. Months had passed already with little accomplished, and progress was nowhere in sight.

Taking a deep breath, he took the next datapad, this one a statistical report showing public favor regarding Decepticons. The numbers were nearing a balancing point, with civilians beginning to mind the presence of Decepticons far less. Some were even starting to call for the Council to speed up their integration process and the announced peace treaty, but that could not happen because Megatron and his damned Generals continue to impede our every attempt!- ..Ultra Magnus took another breath to calm his thoughts. There was no need to think like that, no need for anger. He couldn’t risk letting any of it slip out publicly. He collected himself and continued reading the report; it basically boiled down to the public’s opinion of the Council decreasing as sympathy for the essentially homeless Decepticons grew. Ultra Magnus felt his line pressure growing again as he got to the included civilian testimonies, when a light tap on the door made it briefly spike. He grimaced, but quickly scrubbed it for his neutral expression. Still, he didn’t take his eyes off the datapad. “Come in.”

The door slid open with a soft whoosh, and in shuffled a sheepish Sentinel. “You..called for me, Sir?”

“Indeed I did, Sentinel Minor.” The slightest hint of poison slipped through his tone. “I have a new assignment for you.”

A new assignment? Anything was better than trash duty at this point. He tried to straighten up and raise his shoulders in a feeble attempt at confidence. Truthfully, Sentinel was all bark and no bite. However he felt back in the ditch, it all gave way to fear and anxiety the longer he spent around Magnus. It took everything in him to not start shaking again. “Y-yes Sir.”

“I have received reports of suspicious activity within the city. Apparently, several individuals, Autobot and Decepticon alike, have been reported as members of a suspected underground rebellion. We have been unable to apprehend any of them, but there is one individual that has been spotted consistently in likely association.” Pulling up an image of a lean purple mech, Ultra Magnus pushed the datapad towards Sentinel. “His name is Cyclonus, he’s a highly dangerous Decepticon and one of Megatron’s best. He is ruthless and cunning, and would do anything for his Master.”

This was all making Sentinel genuinely excited. Finally, he was gonna see some real action again! “If I may be so bold as to ask, Sir, why has he not already been arrested? Surely if he’s so dangerous, the public would be safer with him locked up.”

The older mech laced his fingers together. “He has yet to commit any crimes in Autobot space, and it would be unlawful to detain him as such.” Ultra Magnus would usually have no qualms about a mech such as this never seeing the light of day again, but public opinion was currently not in his favor. He showed no change in demeanor, even as his thoughts grew sour again. “This mech has been seen in several lower income areas of Petrex. He wanders around and is always seen wandering around before entering a run down housing complex. What exactly he is after, the Security Force has not figured out. That is where you come in. I want you to trail him nightly and report back to me your findings.”

Had Sentinel been in the presence of anyone else, he might’ve been jumping for joy. Instead, he just tried to suppress a smile. “Yes Sir, I won’t let you down Sir!”

“You won’t, Sentinel.” A tinge of coldness was in his voice, almost as if the statement were a threat. His optics simmered with repressed vitriol.

The Minor’s elation immediately left his body, once again replaced with fear. Swallowing, he carefully took the provided datapad. “Yes Sir.”

“You are dismissed. Return to your post.”

Despite keeping a steady pace as he left, it took all of Sentinel’s willpower to not bolt out of the room. Ultra Magnus’ explosion of anger at him after waking from his coma was nothing compared to the emotions he hid just under the surface. The silence was the most terrifying part of the old mech.

Keeping his head down, Sentinel slunk back to his dirty gutter.

~~~~~~

After weeks of near-silence, Optimus had been hit with a sudden barrage of news articles about the current state of Cybertron. Growing civil unrest, clashes with law enforcement, and a surprisingly vocal campaign of speaking out against the Council brought him to the end of his rope. These talks were going nowhere, and this only exacerbated his feelings.

He set down the datapad on the couch next to him and pulled his knees up under his chin as he stared out the window. He’d gone to the small observation room again in hopes that a change of scenery would be good for him, but it kind of made things worse. Staring outside, Optimus was greeted by a black abyss, peppered by a few measly, dim pinpricks. The longer he watched, the darker his thoughts grew.

“Not much of a view tonight.” A low, gravelly voice broke the silence. Optimus jumped in surprise only to be greeted by a massive dark shape leaning on the back of the couch. The only discernible part were his bright red optics, which were now pointed at Optimus. Brushing off his initial shock, he just turned back around to his original curled position, otherwise not acknowledging Megatron’s presence.

A bit irritated at being ignored, the larger bot grumbled and took a seat at the opposite end of the couch, joining Optimus in staring out the window. Should I leave? Should I say something? He doesn’t seem to be in a talking mood… A few tense minutes passed with neither bot so much as moving, with only the distant hum of the engines filling the emptiness.

“Waddyou want.” Optimus was monotone in his delivery, breaking the silence.

“Hm?”

“Why’re you here.”

Megatron needed a moment to consider. Why was he here? What prompted him to come back tonight? Relaxation? Alone time? The hope of possibly running into Optimus again? “...I don’t know.”

“..Then why don’t you leave?”

“Why would I?”

“Because I said so.”

“You are giving me orders, aboard my ship?” Megatron glanced over, an eyebrow raised.

“Yes.”

Megatron had no response for that. He realized now that Optimus really was in a bad way, and that maybe his presence was making it worse. Suddenly feeling a bit awkward, he started to get up to leave.

Optimus sighed. “Wait…”

Megatron paused halfway up off the couch, looking at the Autobot with confusion.

“...You can stay.” He wanted company right now, and as strange as it was to admit, even Megatron’s was welcome.

Cautiously, he sat back down, averting his eyes again. Uncounted minutes passed in more silence, slipping away like sand through a sifter. It was awkward, but nice, at least on Megatron’s end. He strangely found himself enjoying this time, almost relaxing the longer he sat.

“Why am I here?”

The question caught Megatron off guard. What did Optmus mean by it? “I do not know why you would be in this room. That was your decision.”

“No, I mean here. On this ship.”

“You are the Council’s designated mediator, are you not?”

“...I haven’t been much help, have I?”

“Why do you say that?” Why do I care?!

Optimus pushed the datapad across the seat, letting it slide over to his visitor. He didn’t speak, only pulling his legs in closer.

Megatron scrolled through all the articles Optimus had been reading, realization slowly dawning. “...And you believe this to be your doing?”

Prime simply shrugged. “Maybe if I’d..been less stubborn, or more insistent that the Council actually be at the meetings…”

Megatron sat staring at this sad little lump on the other end of the couch, a strong urge to crush him nearly winning out. It wasn’t really so much of an urge to crush, at least not violently. He wanted to pick up the smaller bot and give him one of those gentle crushes he’d heard about before. What were they called again? He tried to shake the urge but it just would not leave. Worse, it kept evolving. The more he looked at Optimus, the more Megatron wished he would uncurl; he wanted to see Prime’s face again, illuminated by the soft glow of his bright blue optics and starlight. What is wrong with me? Why am I thinking like this?! There is something wrong with my code and Knockout will know my wrath if he does not find the error.

“You are not at fault for anything in this matter. It was bound to spiral at some point, and it was unfair from the start for the Council, and for me, to place so much on you.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Megatron felt stranger than he ever had. He’d just said something…reassuring to his worst enemy. Why?!

Megatron’s almost apology was unexpected, making Optimus lift his head a little, his optics wide for only a moment before he shrank back down. “Aren't I..? All I do is butt heads with you and Magnus, I take notes of the same things over and over, none of my suggestions seem to end well... Am I really doing anything worthwhile? I said I wanted to make this work, but..I’m starting to think it’s gonna fall apart before we can make any progress.” His voice quieted to a near whisper as he spoke, burying his face in his knees.

Something about his demeanor stung at Megatron. He suddenly felt upset, but not necessarily angry, at least not at Optimus. He started to lift a hand to reach out for the smaller bot, but caught himself and lowered his arm back into his lap. What has gotten into me tonight? “Mine and Ultra Magnus’ stubbornness is not a reflection of your abilities. I’ve said it twice already, but you are far and beyond one of the most capable Autobots I have ever met.” He paused, letting his own words sink in. “...I will..contact Ultra Magnus myself..see if he and his Council will deem us worthy enough to be graced by their presence.”

“You mean it?” Optimus looked directly at him and uncurled a bit, staring with wide, glowing optics, a hopeful expression on his face.

“I have no reason to lie about that.” He looked back at Optimus, struggling to keep it together. Had the lights been on, Optimus would’ve seen Megatron’s face was as red as his paint. Taking this opportunity, Megatron studied his guest; his wide blue eyes like pools of energon, reflecting off his soft features and highlighting the finer seam lines of his face and helm, how the barely existent light from the emergency exits gave his frame the faintest outline and left the rest in silhouette, how the same faint lights reflected off his lips- Primus, his lips..of all of Prime’s features, those came the closest to rivaling his optics in terms of beauty. They looked as soft as the rest of him, reflecting light as if wet, and slightly parted.

Horrified at where his thoughts were going again, he shoved them to the furthest part of his mind, where they still continued to itch. Quickly looking away in an attempt to ignore Prime’s stupid face, he shifted his own expression back to something resembling a scowl.

Optimus stared at him for a few more seconds. Why’d he look at me like that? He’s being so nice, what does he want? Does he even want anything? I have no reason to believe him, it’s Megatron for Primus’ sake! …But...he hasn’t given me a reason to not believe him since I’ve been here, aside from being Himself. …Huh. His optics are almost the same shade as me..

The corners of Prime’s mouth curled upward ever so slightly as he turned his attention back out the window too, focusing on a bright little spot hundreds of thousands of miles away. “...Would you ever go back to Cybertron, if you had the chance?”

He wants to keep talking?.. Alright, I’ll play along. “..For eons, it was all I wanted, to go back or to control it.. But now..now I’m not certain if I would. The planet itself would almost certainly reject me, much less its people.” The thought made him sad, not an emotion he was particularly used to.

Optimus needed a moment. Hearing that Megatron of all bots didn’t think he’d go back to Cybertron.. It was a truly strange and unexpected sentiment. The two sat in silence for what felt like hours before Optimus broke the silence again. “You’re old, right?”

Megatron chuckled, almost offended but finding the boldness amusing. “I will have you know, I am in peak condition.”

Why did he just laugh?! I’m so dead, he’s gonna throw me out an airlock while I sleep. “Nono nothing like that, I just…you know any history?”

"I'm disappointed you would even ask such a question, do you not remember my library?”

“I do, but…” He pulled the mystery datapad out of his subspace and held it out to Megatron. “Do you know who wrote this?”

Megatron took the pad and examined it, his spark pounding in his chest. So he read it. ..Good, my hunch was correct then. “I am familiar with this author, yes. His identity however, remains a mystery, even to me.”

“Oh. Well…can I ask you some questions about it then?”

He wants to ask me questions? About history? Why?! “What are your questions?”

Prime’s eyes lit up, glimmering against his will. “Oh, I have so many! Why did Nova’s expansionist policies lead to the stratification of the caste system? The term ‘functionism’, what’s its relation to Autobot society? What’s forging? What were Prima’s favorite drinks? What was-” He continued rambling out his questions and tangents but Megatron tuned it all out, simply watching this little Autobot go on excitedly about his curiosities. He leaned his head on one hand, a gentle smile slowly forming.

Megatron stopped himself before that could go any further. Again, his face returned to an attempt at his usual scowl, though he was finding it increasingly difficult to maintain. “Now now, all in due time. I can not answer everything tonight, it’s growing late. What do you say we meet here again? Perhaps tomorrow evening?”

“Oh! Sure, that uh..sounds good.” He blushed a little, embarrassed at his rambling and surprised at Megatron’s offer.

Megatron’s spark nearly jumped out through his mouth. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! He forced himself to look away, clearing his throat. “In the meantime..we can just sit here in silence..and watch.” Watch what, he didn’t specify.

Unexpectedly, Optimus kicked his feet up onto the couch, his frame facing Megatron as he leaned back on the armrest. It took every bit of willpower in Megatron to not look, though he stole a few quick glances from the corner of his eye. Optimus looked genuinely calm and relaxed as he blinked at the emptiness outside, not a state Megatron had ever really seen him in.

And he was. Optimus felt bizarrely at ease around the mech who had previously been his worst nightmare. Something about Megatron felt less intense than before. Maybe because this was a diplomatic mission. Everyone was bound to be exhausted by now, even him. Whatever the case, Optimus decided to just enjoy the lack of tension for once.

Yawning, he stretched and slid down into a lying position as he continued looking out into space. He soon felt his optics grow heavy. The hour was late, and Optimus found himself drifting into recharge, not bothered by Megatron’s presence.

Megatron had continued stealing glances the whole time, barely able to keep it subtle. His chest pulled every time he saw the Autobot, his frame warming. This had to be some kind of illness, there was no other explanation! He watched in disappointment as the calming glow of Prime’s optics faded with his consciousness, but it gave way to a new pleasantness of seeing him asleep again. Somehow, his face was even more serene like this, if that was possible. The more he watched Optimus sleep, the stronger his intrigue grew. He wanted to see closer; he had to. Sliding off the couch, he knelt close to Optimus, finally getting a better look at his face. It was even more appealing up close. He almost reached to touch him again, but the sleeping bot twitched, scrunching his nose a bit and making a small squeaking sound. Megatron’s spark damn near tore out of his chest.

Taking a moment to collect himself, Megatron pondered what to do. He didn’t want to leave Optimus here all night, it was cold and uncomfortable. Perhaps he should wake the sleeping bot? No, that would be rude of him. Megatron had carried him back the last time they’d been here, but it felt less strange then. Still though, it felt wrong to make him stay here. Taking a deep breath, Megatron carefully slid his hands under the sleeping Prime and brought him close to his chest. Optimus instinctively snuggled into the warmth of his frame, and Megatron prayed his charge couldn’t feel his sparkbeat. Thus began the tragically short trip back to Prime’s room, cradled in the arms of someone who had so recently wanted him dead.

When Optimus awoke the next morning, he was surprised to find himself in his closet again. He didn’t remember walking back, but figured he was just so tired he forgot. The last thing he did remember before dozing off was gazing out at the stars, which were now embodied by the glittering specks in the fragrant energon cubes left inside his room. He stared at the glittering dots as they floated through the glowing liquid, the most visible thing in the darkness, as the puzzle pieces began to fall into place. It couldn’t be…

Chapter Text

Terrified mechs jumped out of the way as a very upset Blitzwing charged through the hall. His face was red with anger, his frame dangerously close to catching on fire as he searched for the little yellow nuisance. As he burst into the cafeteria, said nuisance happened to be present, nonchalantly sipping a cube of energon by the door.

“Jou stood me up!” Blitzwing’s frame heaved, yelling at the top of his vents down at Bumblebee.

“Ohhhh, was that date last night? I must’ve gotten my dates mixed up.” Bumblebee barely feigned the apology, disingenuous and smug. He didn’t even care that he could so easily be pummelled into a fine powder.

“Jou’re the one who picked the time!” Blitzwing was really getting into it. While he was mostly acting, he did feel a bit slighted. Sure, it wasn’t a real date, but it was still rude! He crouched down as he yelled, his fingers flexed into claws.

A silence had fallen over the cafeteria as those present watched the drama unfold with rapt attention.

Bumblebee faked a pout, cocking a hip as he looked up at Blitzwing with big, sparkly puppy dog eyes. “I’m sorry babe… Can you ever forgive me for my terrible memory?”

“NO! Jou should have added it to a calendar! How do jou forget a date jou made the same day?!”

Slag, he’s good. I gotta turn it up a notch. Bumblebee’s expression changed to something more seductive, his eyes half-lidded and a light smirk painting his lips. “Aww, don’t be like that. I said I was sorry!” His tone was much more sultry as he took a step towards Blitzwing, running a finger down his chest. “Maybe I could…make it up to you?” He glanced up at the angry mech with the same half-closed eyes, raising his eyebrows. Sari had really drilled in those trashy reality shows, and Bumblebee was determined to channel his inner thespian.

Blitzwing stood back up and shouted angrily at the ceiling, all as Bumblebee continued to smugly sip his drink.

Still towering over the Autobot, Blitzwing looked down and jabbed a finger at him. “Tonight! Date! Here! Same time!”

“Sounds like a plan, big bot!” Bumblebee gave him a dismissive wave and turned around to leave, immediately smacking into a table leg and falling to the floor.

The opportunity was too perfect to pass up. His Icy expression returning, Blitzwing made his best attempt at pretending to be worried. “Ach, Meine Liebe, are jou hurt?” He knelt down, making a big show of scooping up the smaller bot into his arms. “I vill take jou to zhat medic of yours to feel better.”

Scrap, is this how he plans on winning? By making Ratchet kill me?! “Uh..nono, you don’t have to do that, I’m fine! See?” He knocked on his head to try and prove his point.

“Now, now, jou might have a concussion. I can’t simply ignore zhat, can I?” Bullshitting harder than he ever had before, Blitzwing headed out with a protesting Bumblebee securely in his arms. The door slid closed, leaving the cafeteria in stunned silence and with plenty of new gossip to spread.

~~~~~~

Optimus spent the entire morning in bed. His optics never moved from the energon cubes, even as the minutes wore on. He simply couldn’t fathom the conclusions he was coming to. His ending up back here, the cubes, the warmth he’d felt in the midst of his sleep… Everything pointed to Megatron. Why? What does he want with me? Is he planning something and is trying to get me comfortable? To lower my guard? Why? Just…why? Why would he even pretend to be nice?

He took a deep vent in and out, opening up his airways a bit. There was no meeting planned for today, as there had been no responses from the Council yet again. For better or worse, Optimus was relieved about that. With every moment that passed, he dreaded the potential of receiving a call from Ultra Magnus; the very thought of his datapad ringing made his spark rate increase.

What was there to do today? Read his books again? No, it didn’t sound appealing. Visit Ratchet? No, Megatron might show up again unexpectedly. Go for a walk? Again, Megatron. Moving didn’t sound that appealing either. Rot in bed, waiting anxiously for a call that might never even come? That one at least didn’t involve much effort. He sighed and closed his optics. There was never an easy choice, was there?

Optimus struggled to fall back asleep for hours. He eventually accepted that there was no chance of that until much later tonight. Tonight, when he’d willingly agreed to meet with Megatron in hopes of getting answers to some of his most burning questions. It was nice to not have to bother Ratchet with them, but how could Optimus be certain Megatron wasn’t lying or bending the truth for his own goals? He figured he would have to bring it up with the old doctor eventually, regardless of this meeting’s outcome, if only for cross-referencing.

After so long on his side, sitting up was a chore, but he pushed through the soreness. Pulling out his personal datapad, he tried to focus on compiling a list of questions, but the soft pink glow of the energon cubes kept distracting him. He wasn’t sure if he should partake, knowing now where it came from. The fresh, floral taste danced on his tongue as guilt and confusion flooded his body, his desires and instincts locked in a stalemate. His tanks felt increasingly more empty the longer he sat. He’d extended and retracted his hand several times from the tantalizing drinks, desperately wanting them and yet not wanting them. Eventually, though, his hunger won out. Still hesitant, he peeled up a corner and let the smell float about him, further tempting him. Prime’s mouth was watering, but he held back. What if this batch was secretly poisoned? What if the others hadn’t been just so he’d let his guard down around this one? Nothing looked or smelled off, but there were plenty of poisons that wouldn’t change the properties of a drink if added. How could he have been so careless the first time? And the second, and the third…

He took a sip and waited a few minutes. Nothing felt off, so he took another. Then another, and another. Soon enough, he was leaning back and relaxed, a pleasant warmth radiating through his frame with every taste of the fuel. The guilt was overwhelming. How could he enjoy something from Megatron, of all bots? His feelings continued to mix and mingle into a confusing mess as the liquid slowly disappeared from the cube, finally congealing as the container emptied. Optimus weakly fidgeted with it, watching the few remaining drops roll down the inside as he processed what he remembered from the previous night. Megatron’s calm demeanor with seemingly not a hint of animosity, his quickly hidden smiles, that little laugh, the look in his optics when Optimus spoke… None of it made sense. Why go to such lengths to get Optimus’ guard down? Why pretend to be friendly? And how was he so good at it?!

He groaned and slid back down into bed, staring at the ceiling. His optics lazily followed the length of a pipe, his mind now blank. He found a few new spots, some new stains and dents, but nothing of interest. With these new realizations, he began to dread his promised meeting. Perhaps he could just not go? It was an option, and one that could break Megatron’s ruse as well. But he wanted answers, and he wanted to go to that room again. Despite Megatron’s existence, last night had been rather pleasant. The thought made him feel strange. Pleasant..? With Megatron? It just wouldn’t leave his processor, no matter how hard he tried to push it away. Even trying to sleep again was useless, busy as his processor was. All he saw when he offlined his optics was an image of Megatron leaning on his arm, smiling with a warmth that should have been impossible for him. A warm smile, and warmer optics… Those crimson eyes and orange pupils were seared into his memory like blazing suns.

Optimus forced his eyes to stay open, angry and confused at his own thoughts. Even alone in his room, Optimus couldn’t get away from his worst enemy. Nowhere was sacred, not even his mind. Still unsure if he’d go back tonight, he picked up his datapad and tried to distract himself with his list of questions again.

~~~~~~

“Pleeeeeeease Mister Jazz? Pretty pretty please can we go outside? We promise to be good!” Jetfire and Jetstorm were quite literally on their knees begging.

“No! The last time you ‘went outside’ and ‘promised to be good,’ you trashed a training room and got all buddy-buddy with a Decepticon! You’re lucky Megatron himself didn’t come to punish you!” Jazz stood plastered against the door in an attempt to block it from the Twins. They’d been begging him for weeks to leave the room, but he knew they would just run off and leave him in the dust. As little time as they’d spent around him, Bumblebee had been a terrible influence on their impulses.

“Pleeeeeeease, we can not fly in here! Ceiling is too short!” Jetfire pushed out his lower lip and widened his optics.

“Pleeeeeeease? We pretty pretty promise we will not break things!” Jetstorm did the same and scooted closer.

“No means no, and that’s—AGH!” A knock on the door startled the poor mech, making him jump.

A muffled but cheery voice came from the other side. “Hiii! It’s Tailwind again. Can the Twins come out today?”

“No! And my answer ain’t gonna change! Go destroy a room with someone else!” This had been a near-daily occurrence, and Jazz was so, so tired.

“Pleeeeeease Mister Autobot? We promise to be good!” Tailwind’s pouting and puppy dog eyes could be heard in his voice.

Jazz loudly sighed, looking upwards. Why, Primus? Just why? He sluggishly flounced aside, and the door slid open, revealing a grinning Tailwind in the hall. “Hi guys!!”

“You three are not my problem anymore.” Jazz threw his hands up in exasperation and shambled over to his recharge slab. Before he could lay down, however, each arm was grabbed by one of the Twins, and he was dragged out.

“You can not stay locked in room forever, Mister Jazz!”

“Brother is correct, stretching limbs for exercise is healthy!”

Jazz squirmed in protest. “Hey, lemme go!”

Jetfire smirked. “Okee dokes!” He and Jetstorm released their hold on him just as the door closed, leaving them all in the hallway. “Now you are outside! It would be great shame if you did not come with us, yes?”

“No, absolutely not! I don’t wanna be around any Decepticons, I’m goin’ back in.” Despite Jazz’s attempt to leave, he found himself once again restrained by the arms and being dragged away from the comfort and safety of his room. “Wait, what’re you doing, stop it!”

Tailwind and the Twins pretended not to hear. “Is the weather not lovely today, brother?” Jetstorm chirped.

“It is indeed! Perfect for flying and socializing, yes?” Jetfire returned.

“Hehe. Waddyou guys say we get some of this energy out first, and then maybeeeee drinks?” Tailwind walked alongside them, a little spring in his step.

“Ohhh yes! We have not been to dining location aboard this ship, no?”

“I would very much like to see it!”

“Sounds like a plan then! You guys are gonna love the cafeteria.” Tailwind too pretended Jazz wasn’t there as they continued their walk.

Jazz ceased his struggling and resigned to his fate. He just hoped neither the training room nor the cafeteria were crowded.

~~~~~~

Ratchet’s relatively mundane day was interrupted by the horrifying sight of Blitzwing walking into the medbay with Bumblebee in a bridal carry. Immediately, his face contorted and his optic twitched. Thankfully, Knockout took the initiative.

“Go ahead and lay him down, I’ll be there in a moment.” Oh, this is delightful.

Blitzwing did as he was told, laying his charge down with the utmost care and definitely not letting Bumblebee’s head hit the bed with a THUD.

Bumblebee inhaled sharply but didn’t let the discomfort break him. He was here to win.

Seeing this, Blitzwing put on his best worried expression, gently caressing the little bot’s cheek. “Are jou hurt, Meine Liebe? I was so worried, my strength faltered.”

Bumblebee shot him a glare, his face red with embarrassment, but quickly shifted his own expression. He arched his back slightly and placed a hand dramatically on his forehead, swooning. “Oh, my dearest Blitzy, I am so thankful for your care… But, I feel faint… I think I caught the Rust Plague from that disgusting table leg.” His optics fluttered like a telenovela star ready to pass out.

“Perhaps I can take away jour pain, my dearest.” Sliding a hand under Bumblebee’s back, he propped the smaller bot up. With his other, he gently tilted back his head and leaned closer.

Bumblebee was in panic mode but played along, leaning in as well. Slag, what am I doing?!

“Now now, you two, passing along a contagious disease won’t benefit anyone, would it, Blitzwing?” Knockout tsked, clearly trying to hide his grin.

Blitzwing immediately dropped Bumblebee like a rock. His act was over for now.

“Now, Bumblebee, what brings you here today?”

“Blitzwing.”

Knockout looked at him disapprovingly.

“...Ohh it’s awful, doctor!” He immediately returned to his dramatics. “I hit my head, and my beloved is worried I might have a concussion!”

“Mmhm. Alright, I’ll get you hooked up and check your brain activity.” Not that there’s much to check up there. “Sit tight for a minute.”

Knockout turned away to rifle through the drawers for a cable, and Blitzwing took the opportunity to further irritate Bumblebee. Kneeling by the bed, he took the yellow bot’s hand gently in his. “Jou vill be alright, my little bug.”

Slag, he’s good. “With you by my side, I feel I can conquer anything.”

Ratchet had watched all of this in abject disgust, his fuel pressure increasing by the second. By the end, his grip was so strong he snapped the pen he was holding in half. Feeling like he was literally about to explode, he walked into his office with surprising calmness and slammed the door. This was followed by a long string of muffled expletives shouted at the top of his voice.

The trio in the main room were struggling to keep it together, and pretty soon, they couldn’t. Bumblebee was howling, crying with laughter as he beat a fist on the table. Knockout held himself up by a cabinet, his legs nearly giving out. Random rolled on the floor, cackling like a rabid hyena. Eventually, the cursing ceased, and the three started to calm down and catch their breath.

Blitzwing got to his feet, hands on his knees, as his venting returned to normal. “Zhat…vas so worth it..” Giggling, he skittered to the door. “Toodles!” And left.

Knockout too, had calmed down enough to get back to work and plugged in a data cable. “Alright, what’s going on between you two? What’s the bet?”

“We’re in a stalemate and I. Am. Gonna. Win!” Bumblebee huffed and crossed his arms.

“Hm. And this is how you’re going about proving you’re the stronger one?” Knockout raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“It’s a psychological battle, see? If I make him uncomfortable enough to cave and give up, I win!”

“Riiight. And you think you’ll win because..?”

“Because I’m the smarter one! I’m sneaky, I’m crafty! I got this in the bag.”

Watching Bumblebee’s brain waves was fascinating. There was so much going on, and yet so little of value was actually happening. “Uh huh. And when did this…rivalry of yours start?”

“Well I guess we’ve kinda been at each other's throats from the start, but a few weeks ago we were in a training room and he unfairly beat me and pinned me down. And just yesterday, he did the same thing and had the gall to call me cute!” A slight blush pinked his cheeks. “I can’t let something like that slide! Maybe he’s physically stronger than me, but I’ll beat him in the mindscape.” Bumblebee continued rambling about his spats with the Decepticon as Knockout nodded along. Interesting…

After Bumblebee had exhausted his chatting reserves, Knockout unhooked him. “Well, you don’t have a concussion, at least. Just be careful if you do spar again, and…maybe keep this away from Ratchet. Save him from an early grave.” He gave his patient a knowing wink.

“Can do, doc!” Bumblebee hopped cheerily off the table and had a quick stretch. “Tell Ratchet I said hi, ok?”

“Will do.” Knockout gave him a friendly wave and got to cleaning. “You can come out now, they’re gone.”

Ratchet shuffled out and flopped down in his chair, looking exhausted. “I liked it better when they were trying to offline each other.”

“Oh, don’t say that. Who knows, it might be good for them to get their competitive energy out like this instead.” Playful chastising didn’t seem to make Ratchet any better. “There’s no harm in having a little fun, Ratchet. We’re in peace talks anyway, why not let them loosen up a little?”

“Because it’s annoying, that’s what it is! If I see another Autobot snogging a Decepticon, joke or not, I’m takin’ a nice short walk out the airlock.”

“Hm. Well, I can’t say that kind of walk would be particularly good for your health, but you have seniority so whatever you say is best.” Knockout shrugged and got back to work, knowing the threat was empty.

Ratchet just grumbled and settled into his chair for a nap.

Chapter Text

Megatron was growing impatient. The hour was late, well past the evening time he and Optimus had agreed on, and there was still no sign of the Autobot. And to think, he’d seemed so excited the previous night. Perhaps he’d just decided to not come, whether from nerves or distrust, or maybe he altogether forgot or fell asleep. Whatever the case, Megatron was a bit hurt. He almost felt sad Optimus had skipped out on him. Megatron sighed and slid down in his spot on the couch. Maybe he could give it just a few more minutes.

A half-hour later, he was wholly ready to throw in the towel on this meeting and stood, taking one last look out the window. Why had he expected anything different? And why was he upset about it? Just as he was about to leave, however, a rhythmic hum grew in volume in the hall, soon followed by the revving of an engine and squeaking of tires as their owner came to an abrupt stop. The door flew open with a clang, and to Megatron’s surprise, in stumbled an out of breath Optimus.

“I…sorry I’m late… I lost track of time…” Hands on his knees, he tried to catch his breath.

“Lost track?” Megatron skeptically raised an eyebrow. “I had begun to believe you were not coming.”

“It…I was going through the whole book… I have a lot of questions.” Still steadying his venting, Optimus stumbled to the couch and plopped down. That was only a partial truth. He really had gotten lost in his book again but had also been flip-flopping on whether he would go or not the entire time.

“Well then, we had better get started, or we’ll be here until morning.” Prime’s lateness was irritating, but Megatron may have exaggerated it to hide his relief. He sat on his usual end of the couch, but a little closer to his guest this time. “You may begin.”

Optimus scooted over to his armrest and pulled out his datapad. He felt kind of bad for almost ditching Megatron but was still on the fence about this whole thing. “Promise me you’ll answer truthfully. I want honest answers.”

“You will receive nothing but the unfiltered truth.”

It was hard to believe a promise of truth from a Decepticon. Whether Megatron was honest or not, Optimus wouldn’t know. It seemed he’d have to cross-check with Ratchet anyway, unfortunately. Taking a deep breath, he started. “I want to start from the beginning. Nova’s ‘Age of Expansion.’”

“Hm. I take it then, you are familiar with Nova as a leader?”

“He was a somewhat controversial one, though his time in power led to Cybertron flourishing, the closest it had ever been to its former Golden Age.”

Megatron scoffed. “Oh? Is that what they taught you?”

“Your reaction tells me I’m wrong. Enlighten me, then. Can I record?”

“I will allow it.”

Pompous windbag. Rolling his optics, Optimus started that function on his datapad.

Megatron rolled his optics in response and directed his attention out the window. It was easier to focus when he wasn’t looking at Optimus. “Nova was a despotic tyrant, ruling Cybertron with a fist of iron and a stranglehold on the populace-”

“Kind of like you?”

“Do not interrupt me. As I was saying, Nova was one of history’s worst. He was the first to enforce a planet-wide curfew, where breaking it was punishable by an extensive prison sentence or worse. This curfew and countless other oppressive policies were created in response to growing social unrest and distrust in Cybertron’s government after waves of fuel shortages.”

Just what we’re trying to avoid…and we’re failing already. Optimus swallowed nervously. “And…some of those policies, did they carry over?”

“Oh yes. Quite a few did, like you Autobots’ strict curfew. It’s not as harsh as Nova’s, but strict nonetheless. You Autobots still practice Cold Construction with your ‘new citizens,’, am I correct?”

“That’s actually another question I have. That term and ‘Forging’. What do they mean? The author didn’t elaborate, I guess he assumed readers would already know the concepts.”

“Ah, now that relates to another of your questions regarding Nova’s Expansionism. What do you know of that?”

“Well, that he began colonizing other worlds to accommodate Cybertron's growing population.”

Megatron nodded in disappointment. “Cybertron’s expansion was in part a stunt to showcase Nova’s power, but was in reality a way to scour resources from other worlds, whether they were inhabited or not.”

Optimus shuddered to think what happened to those inhabitants but didn’t interrupt.

“Resources dwindled, and the population grew, under strict control of Nova, of course. As his next move to maintain power and quell any rebellion, he stratified the citizenry into castes based on their alt modes, entirely disregarding their prior occupations. ‘Form is Function,’ he spouted. You were only as useful as your alt mode. I see a lot of that remains in Autobot society as well.”

That was true. As soon as a new protoform took its shape, they were sent off for basic education and funneled into a ‘suitable’ profession based on government-mandated metrics. Still, Optimus didn’t interrupt.

“Despite the lack of resources, even from the conquered worlds, Nova needed more workers to harvest them. Thus, he began the practice of Cold Construction, where a spark is taken and inserted at random into a protoform.” Megatron exhaled, his expression gaining a hint of melancholy. “…Creation was never meant to be that way.”

This topic in particular seemed to weigh on Megatron. Softness was still so strange to see coming from him, but sadness? That was wholly new. Intrigued by it and the incoming explanation, Optimus positioned himself with his feet on the couch under his chin, and turned towards Megatron with full attention.

“You wanted to know about Construction and Forging? Then listen well. Few are left who remember.” He paused again, taking a deep vent in. “Construction, as I said, is where a spark is taken at random and placed in a protoform chosen equally at random. What your people have forgotten, or perhaps choose to ignore, is how unnatural that is. Every protoform may look alike, but each is unique, even if it’s not visible. Each one is meant to be paired with a certain spark. In Forging, a protoform would be placed inside the Well of All Sparks, and the proper spark would give life to its host. Every spark had its perfectly matched body. There was a balance, but that method was too slow for Nova. A single spark selection could take hours. He was in need of specific frame types as well, those he deemed proper for his ‘disposable’ workers, so he began his practice of Cold Construction. He had figured out some way to manipulate protoforms into what frames he wanted. It yielded him his workers, but now so many felt like they were in the wrong body because they were. We were promised prosperity, but all it brought was more misery.”

Optimus watched and listened with rapt attention as Megatron continued, his voice growing sadder with each passing word. His energy had completely shifted to something unrecognizable, something more raw than anything Optimus had seen from him so far. He almost hesitated to speak but just had to know. “I’ve seen some bots with more unique frame types. What about them?”

“Your current government is more lenient with things like frame swaps and modification, though not by much. Aside from that… I have no proof of this, but I like to believe that every so often, one of those randomly chosen sparks is given to the correct body.” A soft half smile formed at his last statement. “It’s not much, but it gives me a shred of hope to hold onto that our race will someday regain what it lost.”

It was a lot to take in. Optimus stared, motionless, as he tried to process this information. He’d always wondered why everyone seemed to share the same few frame types but had chalked it up to a biological quirk. This explanation made too much sense though, uncomfortably so, and he wasn’t sure what to do. He remembered a few bots from his Academy days and how he didn’t remember seeing any others like them in appearance. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now he was thinking of nothing but that. And what about him? He racked his brain, trying to remember if he’d seen anyone else like him, but came up empty. Maybe his just wasn’t a particularly common frame type, he probably just hadn’t met anyone else with it yet.

Hearing Megatron speak of hope, too, was odd, and Optimus was having a hard time writing his show of emotion off as fake. Either Megatron was the best liar in the universe, or this was genuine, but either way it was yet another thing for Optimus to try and rationalize. Glancing away, he pulled his legs closer. “And…what about you? How were you made? I haven’t seen your frame type before.”

Megatron hesitated to answer, nervously picking at his finger joints. Optimus seemed receptive to his explanations, but should he really divulge any more, especially something so personal? What if Ultra Magnus had put him up to this? Prime’s eagerness last night had seemed so genuine, though. “I was Constructed. I have had several modifications.” “Oh…” Optimus felt a little bad for asking now.

“I was originally created to be a miner on one of Nova’s conquered worlds. But, soon after riots broke out there, Nova deemed Messatine drained of resources and had it destroyed…with all of us still on it. I can’t help but believe it was my fault.”

“Your manifesto..?”

“So you are familiar with it?”

“Only the parts we were shown in the Academy. I could never find the full thing.”

“Of course not. The Council feels the same about it as Nova did. My ideas were ‘too drastic.’” Megatron frowned, shifting a bit. “Believe it or not, I wasn’t always the Megatron you’ve known. Eons ago, I was a pacifist.”

Megatron’s demeanor had shifted again to something akin to anger and melancholy. Optimus still couldn’t quite rationalize why Megatron was being so open with him. “What happened?”

“After Nova’s failed attempt to kill me, I was taken by law enforcers, beaten within an inch of my life, and dumped at the Pits of Kaon. I had to kill to survive, and with every life I took, I grew angrier at myself, at Nova, at the injustices of the world. I was scared of myself and of what I was becoming. The guilt ate away at me day after day. But, my anger finally outweighed the guilt, and…you know the rest.” Megatron scoffed, turning his head to the wall.

The room grew deathly quiet, only the ambient hum of the engines filling the otherwise oppressive silence. What could Optimus even say? Megatron was being so open with him, could he even say anything? All this new information coupled with the Decepticon’s unusual mood was beyond strange and almost more than Optimus could handle at once. A pacifist? Megatron?! As much as he didn’t want to believe it, he couldn’t deny how much talking about this all seemed to affect Megatron. “...I’m sorry.”

An apology? What for? Megatron’s eyes burned as he forced back tears. He was just relieved Optimus couldn’t see. “Don’t apologize. You had no part in it.”

“I know, but…you still deserve one. Regardless of who you are now, you didn’t deserve what happened.”

Megatron pawed at his mouth and chin, his face growing hot as it became harder to hold in his emotions. He hated feeling like this. He hadn’t felt like this in centuries. He was Megatron, fearsome leader of the Decepticons, a ruthless killer! He didn’t cry! He wasn’t supposed to feel anything except anger and hatred.

Anger. Anger was safe. It was comfortable and easy to use as a mask. Megatron forced that feeling to the surface but could barely keep it up, and not nearly well enough to show Optimus. Minutes felt like hours as he tried and tried but got no closer to raising his guard back up. His face twitched as a tear managed to escape, but he refused to wipe it; he couldn’t let Optimus know.

Optimus could sense the tension in the air and see it in Megatron’s body. He shrank back a little and looked away, feeling guilty. “I’m sorry for bringing it up…”

Megatron didn’t respond for fear of his fragile facade cracking and let the silence persist.

“I should go.” Keeping his head down, Optimus gathered his things and left.

Alone, Megatron’s emotions only evolved. His face contorted, and his frame heaved as he tried to turn whatever this was into anger, but to no avail. A couple more tears escaped, and he could finally wipe them away, his frustration and confusion growing. He could usually so easily push everything below his anger, even surrounding the topics they’d discussed tonight, so why was this time any different? Why did Optimus apologize? Why did it make Megatron feel even worse?

Hours passed and he didn’t move. As the morning grew closer, Megatron’s thoughts would slowly drift towards the day’s upcoming meeting. He debated calling it off since there had still been no response from the Council but resolved to see it through. He just had to push everything except the meeting from his mind.

~~~~~~

Morning arrived far too fast after another sleepless night for Optimus. For once, he arrived at the meeting early, if only because his nerves wouldn’t let him stay in one place, although the thought of seeing Megatron again didn’t help. He sat in the empty room, staring down at his datapad, picking at it. He had half a spark to leave, but lost his chance when the other Decepticons started slowly filing in. Their chatter grew more irritating by the second; all Optimus wanted was some peace and quiet. The scheduled meeting time came and went, with Megatron as the only one missing. Maybe this meant the meeting was canceled, and Optimus would have the chance to slip out!

Just as his hopes had slightly raised, they were immediately crushed by the hulking shape of Megatron. The room immediately fell silent upon his entry, his sour mood preceding him. Optimus absolutely refused to look up, again fearing to set off the clearly unhappy Decepticon, especially after the previous night’s talk. It really didn’t help that Megatron sat directly across from him, either.

Without a word, Megatron shot a tired glare at Strika, signaling her to start. Hesitantly, she did. “An updated casualty census has been returned to us, and as predicted, the numbers are higher than previously thought. We believe we have found most missing persons, alive and deceased, though several are now considered MIA.”

“We will hold a vigil for those lost. It will be scheduled for a later date.” Megatron stared somewhere in the middle of the table, trying to keep his focus on the matter at hand. This was all important for him to hear, but everything from the previous night just kept nagging at him.

“We have received a shipment of energon from the Autobots, but it is far from enough. Our stores grow increasingly lower, even with ration cuts. It seems the Autobots are running low as well. I expect to hear soon how they can ‘no longer supply us.’”

Megatron massaged his forehead, a dull ache slowly pulsating. “Find an alternative fuel source. I do not care if it’s that accursed organic sludge, just find anything.” He was being very short and snippy with his answers, a big departure from his usual eloquence and ability to soften the hard blows. His thoughts just would not stop nagging. He let Strika and the others drone on, only hearing the worst parts. He felt guilty he wasn’t paying more attention, but it was all he could do to not explode. The bits and pieces of terrible news kept piling on top of his already nasty mood, just making it worse.

“Lord Megatron?” Shockwave had been trying to get his superior’s attention for a few minutes with no success, but this last, slightly louder attempt seemed to get his attention.

“This meeting is dismissed.”

“My Lord, we have not yet-”

“I will not repeat myself.”

Shrinking back, Shockwave looked around the table and nodded. The Decepticons exchanged knowing glances and quickly left with Optimus following, leaving Megatron alone again.

Damn it all! Springing from his seat, Megatron let out a loud, guttural shout of frustration as his fist dented the wall. He panted as his frame relaxed slightly, his hand resting inside the significant dent it had created. He felt like crying again, and it only made him angrier. Finally, an emotion he could have some control over. Any relief that gave him faded just as quickly as the tears started pouring down his face. Leaning his forehead on the wall, he tightly grabbed his helm and sobbed, his vents working overtime to keep them quiet. Everything that could possibly go wrong had; casualties, a fuel shortage, unwilling negotiators, whatever his undiagnosable illness was, and now whatever Optimus had dragged to the surface. He’d spent so long successfully keeping it all inside, only to be reminded of it all under the guise of a history lesson. Megatron felt like a fool. He’d been tricked like a frog in a pot of slowly boiling water.

He tricked me. I let my guard down and he took advantage of it to dredge up the worst aspects of my history. That wretched little Autobot, how dare he?! Was this the Council’s doing? It must be. They want to undermine me and wait out the madness so they can take control. …No matter. I can be plenty patient. I will not be the first to break. I will not show weakness. Taking a deep vent in, a dark scowl returned to his faceplate, determined to stay this time. Megatron straightened his posture and clenched his fists, exhaling with a growl before storming out.

~~~~~~

The mood aboard the ship had been exceptionally gloomy the next few days. Meetings had again been put on hold for lack of the Council’s response, much to its attendee’s relief. Megatron had been locked in his quarters since the dismissal of the last meeting, only occasionally coming out to expend some energy in the training rooms. The ship was rapidly running out of functional training dummies, much to Bumblebee’s disappointment. He sat with Tailwind in a very empty cafeteria, sipping on a cube that seemed even smaller than it had a week ago.

“What’s the deal? Where is everyone?” He didn’t take much notice of the shipwide tension.

“Waddyou mean, ‘what’s the deal’? Megatron’s in a bad mood!” Tailwind whispered loudly, a note of panic in his voice. He covered the side of his face as he sat hunched over, anxious to be out of his room right now. “I dunno what’s going on in those meetings of his, but it can’t be anything good.”

“C’mon, he’s always like that! When’s Megatron not mad?”

Tailwind glanced around to make sure the one other mech in the room wasn’t listening. “He-he is, but…it’s almost never this bad. Something must’ve happened to set him off. I heard he punched a hole through the wall a-”

The door slid open to reveal Blitzwing, who immediately went to the fuel dispensers. Tailwind cowered, and the other mech scurried out, not wanting to be there with one of the higher-ups present.

A grin spread over Bumblebee’s face, again not sensing the mood. “Watch this, Tailwind.” He quickly cleared his throat. “Oh, Blitzyyyyy! It’s me, your favorite bot in the whole universe!”

Blitzwing paid him no mind as he watched the dispenser struggle.

Bumblebee frowned. It wasn’t normal for Blitzwing to ignore his antagonizing like that. Turning his whole frame, he tried again. “What’s wrong? Got dust in your ears, you ancient model? You stood me up this time, I haven’t heard from you in days!”

Blitzwing sighed and weakly glanced at Bumblebee, startling him. He’d never seen Blitzwing, or any Decepticon for that matter, looking so tired, so defeated. The shock of it was enough to shut up the little chatterbox, and he watched as Blitzwing lumbered out. “...What was that all about?”

“You know he’s in those meetings too, right?” Tailwind squeaked from under the table.

“Geez, whaddo they talk about in there?” He turned back around and sipped his measly ration, but something just didn’t sit right. It was just so strange to see Blitzwing so mopey, and it made Bumblebee uncomfortable. His jokes not hitting hurt, but this was different and he couldn’t really explain it. “You ok down there?”

“Yep! Nice and comfy!” The floor was sticky and dusty in the corner they were in. It was clearly not a spot of high priority to the cleaners, but it was better than being noticed by a General in a bad mood.

Bumblebee shrugged and finished off his drink, Blitzwing’s demeanor at the front of his thoughts. Maybe some training would get his mind off it? No, the training rooms weren’t very usable right now. Maybe he’d go chat up Ratchet later, or the Twins, or maybe Optimus.

Chapter Text

Knockout twirled around in his chair, organizing some files. Business had been slow the last few days, but the gossip he got from his patients shed some light on the situation. He hummed a random little tune, rather enjoying the lack of work for once; it let him get caught up on things. In the distance, a loud, clanking stomping could be heard quickly approaching, interrupting his peace. Primus help me.

Megatron would’ve flung the door open if he could, but alas, it only slid open quietly. He growled at it and plopped down on the exam table, not acknowledging the doctor.

“Well, good afternoon to you, too, Lord Megatron. What brings you here today?” Knockout was shitting bricks but outwardly kept his cool.

Megatron honestly wasn’t sure why he’d come here. Maybe it was to get his code checked again or have his hand looked at from where he punched the wall, or maybe he just wanted company. Whatever the case, he didn’t know, and he didn’t want to talk. He just huffed and looked away.

Knockout had to tread carefully. He’d had plenty of stubborn and angry patients, but never had Megatron been one of them, at least not to this extent. “I’ll give you a checkup and look at your code. How does that sound?”

Megatron gave no answer, to Knockout’s irritation. Grabbing his tools, he began his examination. “Does anything in particular hurt?” He asked, eyeing his superior’s dented knuckles.

Again, Megatron gave no answer.

Knockout rolled his optics and continued working in silence. Obviously, there was more than a little wrong with his patient, but it wasn’t like he could just outright ask. While Knockout was engrossed in his work, he hadn’t noticed Ratchet come out of his office. Upon seeing an incredibly pissed-off Megatron in the medbay, however, he went back to his room immediately. He did not feel like dealing with that today.

Moving on to Megatron’s knuckles, he couldn’t proceed much further. “Would you mind unclenching your fist for me? I need to bang out these dents and redo your paint.”

Megatron didn’t budge.

“Do you want me to fix it?”

Again, no response.

Increasingly more annoyed, Knockout sighed and abandoned that attempt, instead moving on to hooking up the data cable. “Is there anything in particular I’m looking for on this scan?”

Instead of a verbal answer, Megatron clenched his fists and scowled harder.

“Just the usual, then,” Knockout muttered under his breath and started the device. He did a double take at seeing Megatron’s brain activity and fuel pressure. Everything was erratic and spiking, worse than he’d seen in a long time. “Have you been under any stress recently?” He realized that was the wrong thing to ask as soon as the words left his mouth.

Megatron’s head whipped down to glare at the doctor, leaning in close. His optics blazed like a raging fire, the heat from his frame visibly distorting a small area around him.

“M-my apologies, Lord Megatron, it was a force of habit! I ask that of all my patients who receive a brain scan!” Knockout raised his hands to his chest, backpedaling and trying to run damage control. “It’s simply a matter of concern on my end!”

Megatron let out a low rumble and sat back up, looking away again. Knockout sighed, relaxing significantly. Of course, he knew Megatron was stressed, it was all anyone was talking about! He stayed at a safe distance as the scan continued, with Megatron’s readings never lowering. Knockout knew it was a bad idea to poke a sleeping bear, but at this point, it was a matter of helping the entire ship. With a deep breath, he again tempted fate. “Sometimes talking about what’s bothering you can help.”

“Do not…speak to me.” Venom dripped from between his clenched teeth as Megatron hissed out those few words.

Apparently, Knockout felt like meeting Primus today. “Is it the meetings? Perhaps the Council? Or maybe it’s that Autobot?”

Megatron’s readings visibly spiked at the mention of Optimus. He grimaced, optics wide, but otherwise kept himself together.

Ah. We’re getting somewhere now. Knockout steepled his hands and straightened his posture. “Lord Megatron, if I may be so bold-”

“You may not.”

“You are acting like a petulant newspark. I assume you came to a doctor for help with something, but I can’t provide help if you don't talk!”

“What did you just call-”

“You are by far one of the most stubborn and emotionally constipated bots I’ve ever treated! Just because you’re our leader does not mean you’re above having problems. You think I can’t read this monitor? Did I hook you up to it for fun?!” His voice began to raise as he gestured wildly. “You bottle up everything, and clearly it’s beginning to affect your leadership! Have you noticed the atmosphere around here the last few days?! You’re under a lot of pressure, yes, but nothing about you means you can’t talk or ask for help! Now, I might just be a lowly doctor, and I haven’t the faintest clue what happened in that meeting room, but maybe, just maybe, you ought to take a step back and really evaluate yourself!” Completely out of breath and fucks to give, Knockout huffed and started unplugging the data cable.

Megatron stared at him, stunned and bewildered that one of his subordinates had just gone off on him like that. Is it the red paint? Is that what makes these civilian frames so feisty? By all accounts, he should’ve been mad, but honestly, he was just impressed. “Is that…what you believe is best?”

“Yes, of course, I wouldn’t have just spouted all that if I didn’t.” His exasperated exterior was doing a great job of hiding his fear. Worried he might not have long left, Knockout sent a quick ‘I love you’ comm to Breakdown as he finished winding up the cable. “Just talk and relax. I know it's hard right now, but you owe it to yourself and to your people. You can’t be an effective leader if you’re falling apart.”

With a head full of fresh, swirling thoughts, Megatron got up and left without another word, much to Knockout’s relief. As soon as the door closed, Ratchet tiptoed back out, only to be greeted by a limp hug from a sobbing Knockout. “Ratcheeeettt, I thought..I thought I was gonna diiiieeeee!”

“No shit! Why in Primus’ name would you think any of that was a good idea?!” Despite his grouchy attitude, Ratchet still returned the hug, gently rubbing his back.

“I don’t know! It just came out! If I disappear, tell Breakdown I love him!” He was now completely limp in his mentor’s arms, without even his legs supporting him.

Primus, give me the strength to keep it together. Sighing, Ratchet gave him a reassuring pat. “It’s ok kid, even doctors get frustrated. You’re goin’ to bed now, I’ll take whoever else comes in tonight.” He assumed the blubbering meant ‘yes’ and dragged the poor medic into his room and rolled him onto the bed. That old Decepticon’s gonna have a lot more problems if he crosses any of these kids, I’ll make sure of it! “Just calm down, ok? Call your Conjunx if it’ll make you feel better. I’ll take any patients that come in tonight.”

Still a sobbing mess, Knockout weakly nodded and did just that.

Hearing Megatron get reamed like that as a form of therapy was therapeutic in its own way to the old doctor. Returning to the main medbay area, Ratchet flopped down in his own chair and got back to reading. Minutes later, a tall, very worried blue mech jogged in and went straight for Knockout’s office, only giving Ratchet a small wave of acknowledgment. The old mech raised a hand back, cracking a small smile once the door closed.

~~~~~~

Like Megatron, Optimus had been hiding out in his room too. Unlike Megatron, however, he hadn’t once left it. He hadn’t read his books either, hadn’t eaten, he’d barely slept, all from nerves. Answering all those questions had clearly upset Megatron to a degree Optimus couldn’t have anticipated. It was an accident, but he still felt bad. Should he apologize? Would Megatron even accept it, or would he just rip Optimus apart on the spot, peace treaty be damned? In his experience, the latter was more likely. Maybe Megatron would get over it soon and calm down, and they could get back to the meetings like nothing happened. Unlikely, but what else was he supposed to do? Risk being killed in a blind rage again?

His recharge slab felt cold. Curling up did nothing, and any warmth his body generated was immediately sapped away. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned away, but the pink glow of the two remaining gifted energon cubes still burned into his optics. He wanted to cry. Progress was stalled once again, and it was his fault.

Why’d you think asking him would be a good idea? Of course, it would set him off, it’s Megatron! You should’ve just asked Ratchet in the first place. But he seemed so willing to explain… Is it because it got personal? Did it hurt him that much? I didn’t think he could even feel those kinds of things. Will this whole ‘peace’ thing be over if I don’t apologize?

As he lay in the dark, weighing his options, he failed to notice the sound of rather loud footsteps. He did, however, jolt to his senses at the loud knock on the door. He steadied his venting, hoping whoever was on the other side would just assume he wasn’t there and leave. After a few seconds, he heard a shuffling and the sound of something being slid under his door, followed by the same footsteps retreating down the hall. It would be a few minutes before Optimus would even move again, listening for any sign of the bot returning. Not hearing anything after a while, he quickly retrieved the datapad and scurried back onto his bed. It was a plain datapad, but when he turned it on, its only function seemed to be to display a message: Usual meeting place, tonight at 9.

His spark froze. He realized exactly who this was from, and the thought of meeting Megatron alone again was terrifying. What if something happened? That room was so far out of the way no one would ever hear them! It might not be a good show of faith to bring someone with him, though. With a sigh, he resigned to his fate. If anything were to go wrong, he could always emergency ping his friends. Laying back down, he tried to get some rest before his almost inevitable doom.

~~~~~~

After a long, grueling, humiliating day of filthy work, Sentinel wanted nothing more than to go back to his dingy bunk accommodations and sleep. Unfortunately, he couldn’t exactly ignore a direct order from Ultra Magnus. He spent a long time in the shower that night, dreading the whole thing. Following a dangerous Decepticon suspected of collusion posed many risks, though, at this point, he wasn’t sure he’d mind if something did happen. Whatever his feelings, he had a job to do. Who knows, if he succeeded in busting a potential coup, maybe Ultra Magnus would raise his rank back to Prime! Unlikely, but it was a shred of hope to carry him through this.

The red light district of Petrex was as skeevy as ever. Hundreds of bright neon signs and advertisements of all kinds fought for attention in passerbys’ view and blew out every part of the sky. The streets were unkempt and covered in potholes and cracks, trash spilling onto them from old torn bags left on the sidewalks weeks ago. The civilians milling about were no better than their surroundings, drinking, doing drugs, and participating in various other illicit activities right out in the open. It all made Sentinel shudder as he walked, but at least he wasn’t being heckled and abused. Finally reaching the designated street corner, he ducked into an alley to hide.

Waiting for the suspect was agonizing. The alley was dark and dingy, with cyber rats scurrying over piles of garbage. It was disgusting, but he had to tough it out. After about an hour of tolerating rats skittering over his foot plating, he finally spotted Cyclonus walking on the other side of the street. With his target acquired, Sentinel slipped out and started to follow him at a distance. As vigilant as he’d been warned Cyclonus was, the chaos of the street seemed to throw off that part of him, though he was still looking around cautiously. He’d stop periodically in front of certain businesses and look through the windows before heading further down the strip.

What’s he looking for? None of these places are apartments or even the same type of business! Confused, he kept following. Eventually, Cyclonus stopped in front of a bar, and after a few seconds, he went in. Not wanting to lose him, Sentinel picked up his pace to a jog, following in just seconds later. He caught a glimpse of the sign on his way in, noting the place as MacCadam’s for future reference.

Inside, the bar was far nicer than anything else in the area. In fact, it could’ve been mistaken for a business in an upscale area of Iacon. The floors and walls were pristine, the tables were clean, and the place was empty, save for a couple of tables. The silence was welcome after being out in the street, underscored by a soft, jazzy track. The lighting throughout was a dim, moody purple, with the brightest coming from the lights above the bar, behind which was a single bartender; a large orange mech who seemed preoccupied with cleaning glasses. Sentinel immediately spotted his target sitting down at a secluded corner table, so he took the nearest empty one and tried to look as inconspicuous as he could listening in.

“I apologize for my tardiness, Tailgate. The signage in this area is sorely lacking in clarity.” Cyclonus spoke in a low, rumbling tone, almost a purr. It sent shivers down Sentinel’s spine, both terrifying and pleasant at the same time. The Decepticon’s face never faltered from a cold, blank expression.

“Aww, don’t worry ‘bout it! I know these places can be hard to find with all the signs out there.” A very average-looking Autotrooper sat across from Cyclonus, absolutely dwarfed by his size. Despite the Decepticon’s oppressive aura, Tailgate was chipper and swinging his legs under the table. Even with his full-coverage mask, a big smile was present in his visor. “I’m so glad you wanted to meet again!”

Again? So they’ve done this before. Is this some drug deal? An information exchange? Sentinel pretended to be busy with a speck of dust on the table but snuck glances as he recorded the conversation.

“It is the least I can do for the mech who saved my life. You certainly are a strange little thing. Most Autobots would tremble in fear at the mere mention of my name, and yet you joyously agree to a meeting.”

“Awh, I’m not that weird! I’m…not that different from every other Autotrooper.” Tailgate glanced away, fidgeting. “But-but I’m glad you wanted to meet again! I missed you…”

“Of course, it is my pleasure. But let me tell you something, Tailgate…” His voice grew softer as he slowly inched his hand across the table. “You are different from the others, no matter what you may think.”

Tailgate blushed. His fidgeting intensified, and his speech became full of awkward giggles. “Oh… Y-you don’t mean that, I-I look just like the rest of ‘em! They even repainted my ID number wrong. I have no idea how you found me. I bet you went around town talking to every Autotrooper you saw until you found the right one.”

“Nonsense. I spotted you immediately.”

“Oh, you flatter me.”

Cyclonus slowly moved his hand up towards Tailgate’s face, setting off alarm bells in Sentinel’s mind. He was certain he was about to witness a murder. However, to his confusion, Cyclonus’ hand moved past Tailgate’s throat and came to rest under his chin instead, gently thumbing it as he inspected the smaller bot’s face. “Your optics are a hint brighter and a shade darker… Your visor is a millimeter smaller… You have a little scratch near the edge of it that does not seem to ever buff out… And to top it off, you are unapologetically positive.” As he spoke, Cyclonus slowly moved his hand to cup Tailgate’s cheek.

Flustered, the little Autobot leaned into his touch and placed a hand over his, resting the other on Cyclonus’ extended arm. “You…you mean it?”

“Every word.” A soft smile had cracked the Decepticon’s cold visage, adding to Tailgate’s blushing.

“I… I dunno what to say… Thank you, Cyclonus. You might be the first person who’s been able to pick me out of a crowd.”

“I thank Primus every day that you pulled me from that pile of rubble.” Taking his rescuer’s hand, Cyclonus placed a gentle kiss atop it. “My dearest Tailgate.”

The poor little bot nearly short-circuited. His face red, he tried to respond but could only sputter and stutter.

Cyclonus’ surprise didn’t peek through his stoicism. Carefully pulling away, he left the overheating bot to go order from the bar.

Sentinel felt disgusted from the exchange. Not only from how sappy it was, but this was clearly a Decepticon taking advantage of a vulnerable Autobot, right? What else could this be?! Grimacing, he held back any remarks he may have wanted to make out loud as Cyclonus returned with two drinks: a tall, narrow glass of a bright green liquid for himself and a blue cube with a curly straw for Tailgate. “Drink this. It will help cool your systems.”

Still very flustered, Tailgate fanned himself as he started sipping the drink. “Oh, wow, that’s good. …And it’s working! Man, that bartender must be some kind of magician, huh?”

Cyclonus sat back and chuckled, cracking another small smile. “Perhaps.”

Tailgate wiggled happily as he took another long sip. “So…is this, like, a date?”

Cyclonus pondered for a moment. “If that is what Autobots refer to courtship as, then yes.”

Tailgate squeaked. Again on the verge of overheating, he started to fan himself again. “Ohmygosh… I can’t believe it! I’m on a date with the coolest guy I’ve ever met!”

“I could say the same thing.”

Tailgate gasped. “Can you?! I like hearing you talk.”

The happy new couple talked about sweet nothings, but the rushing energon in Sentinel’s audials drowned it all out. He was furious, both at the situation and at what he considered a disgusting display of public affection. And between an Autobot and a Decepticon, no less! Is this all it is?! A damn date?! Was this all some sick joke to trick me? To get my hopes up? Did Ultra Magnus lie?! As he spent the passing hours stuck in his own mind, he almost missed the date’s conclusion. Cyclonus stood and offered Tailgate his hand, which the little bot happily took, and led him outside. Sentinel again followed, keeping his distance.

Back out on the street, it was easier to blend in with the larger crowd, so Sentinel managed to get a decent bit closer. The two targets were slowly walking hand in hand, talking and clearly enjoying each other’s company. Upon reaching an emptier street corner, the two stopped, and Sentinel ducked into another alley to listen.

“Are you certain you do not want an escort home?” Cyclonus had a hint of genuine concern in his voice, not that Sentinel cared or noticed.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine! Besides, I don’t want you to be late for your meeting.”

The mention of a meeting made Sentinel perk up. Maybe this assignment wasn’t for nothing after all!

“If you insist, dearest.” Picking up Tailgate, Cyclonus would place a little kiss on his cheek.

Face red again, Tailgate grabbed his partner’s face and giggled. “I do insist.” He returned the kiss to the best of his ability since he didn’t exactly have a mouth. “Thank you so much, Cyclonus. I had a great time tonight.”

“My appreciation is boundless. May we meet again soon.” Giving him one more kiss, Cyclonus sets his partner back down and watches until he’s out of sight. Soon after, he begins walking in the opposite direction, away from the crowds.

This is my chance! Sentinel began the long journey of trailing the Decepticon, thankful with every step for the no-fly order.

Chapter Text

Megatron slowly paced before the window of the observation room. One arm was tightly wrapped around his chest, the other nervously rubbing his mouth. After his little days-long episode and subsequent dressing-down from Knockout, he’d taken some time alone to think, coming to the conclusion that he needed to talk to Optimus again. He’d meant to tackle some of it when he delivered the invitation to meet again but had chickened out and just slid it under the door instead. He couldn’t believe he’d been such a coward, and with something that small! It was just one more thing to pile on top of his growing list of stressors. He knew he needed to clear things up, and he wanted to see Optimus again, but part of him hoped the Autobot wouldn’t show this time. Even that thought nagged at his processor now, making his chest feel weird. It’s always Optimus, why is it always him?! He’s always on my mind because of those meetings, that must be it! He sits directly across from me, of course I can’t get him out of my mind, not to mention his constant attitude. …Scrap, did I lose my chance at this treaty? Did I ruin everything? Is he angry with me? Will he ever look at me again? I’m sure he-

He growled in frustration at himself, trying to shove everything from his processor and quell his anger.

Minutes felt like hours, and hours felt like minutes, his nerves increasing with every step he took. He’s not coming. The thought brought more sorrow and relief every time it crossed his mind. After a few hours of wearing holes in the floor, he’d accepted that his request would not be fulfilled. Sighing, he decided to stay for himself. Continuing his pacing, he stared out the window, getting lost in his thoughts. He felt like a fool for even slightly believing this would work.

He wasn’t sure how long had passed before there was a quiet knock on the door. He stopped his pacing and watched as Optimus cautiously peeked his head in and glanced around. Noticing Megatron staring back, he froze. “Is…this a bad time..?”

“Not at all. Come in.” Megatron didn’t realize he was staring, eyes wide in surprise that Prime had actually come. His optics followed the little bot as he crept over to the couch and hopped up, once again pressing up against the armrest.

God, he’s staring again! This was a bad idea, I’m gonna die! Optimus kept his optics on Megatron’s frame, not wanting to risk making eye contact with the certainly crazed mech.

Megatron’s spark pounded inside his chest, practically screaming to get out. He came… He really came… His venting increased to keep up with his spark, quickly falling behind. Looking away from Optimus, he paced around again for another minute, not realizing how insane he looked right now. What am I supposed to say? What do I do? He’s right there, and you’re just going to let your likely one opportunity slip away? Knockout said to talk, but you can’t even do that! He stopped pacing again but, this time stared down at the floor in front of him.

Optimus, for his part, sat stiff as a board, regretting his decision to come.

“...How have you been?” It felt so strange for Megatron to say that. His chest felt tight, and his tongue dry.

Optimus didn’t respond for a few seconds, weighing if he even should. “...Fine.”

“Good. I am…pleased to hear that.” He knew Optimus was lying. However much he pretended, the Autobot wasn’t good at hiding it. Megatron’s words were forced and still felt so off to say.

Optimus didn’t respond this time, instead picking at a finger joint nervously.

Megatron wallowed in the silence, watching him. Again, his spark pulled at the sight of Optimus like this, but he ignored it.

“I’m sorry for…upsetting you.” Optimus kept his head down and shrank back a little.

Megatron was surprised, but after a bit of confusion, realized what was going on. “There is no need for that. You did nothing wrong. You simply asked questions.”

“I-I didn’t know they would be so personal…”

He sighed heavily and closed his eyes. Talk. Just like Knockout said. …Primus, this is uncomfortable. “Anything with history will be personal to me. You asked if I was old, and I am. I have seen and done much and am forever tangled in Cybertron’s history.” His spark rate increased the more he thought about that history. “If anything, I should be apologizing. My reactions were uncalled for.” Megatron looked away, his face twitching as he held back tears again. His memories of the events they’d discussed threatened to resurface alongside some new feeling he couldn’t explain. This was the first time in centuries he’d apologized, and to Optimus of all bots. Remorse felt alien, only serving to further confuse him.

Stunned, Optimus ever so carefully peeked from under his visor. Megatron was thankfully not looking at him anymore, but his voice had faltered slightly near the end. He looked so tense; like he was holding something back. Optimus prayed it wasn’t anger; he wasn’t sure how fast he could make it out of the room if it was. Something about this felt different though. Megatron’s demeanor was closer to the last time they’d met, if anything. The tension, the awkwardness, and Megatron’s whole demeanor matched the atmosphere the room had had after their history lesson those few nights before. “...I accept your apology.”

Megatron inhaled sharply and loudly, tensing even more. He didn’t know what to think of that or how to feel. Nothing made sense. Why did he apologize? Why would Optimus accept it? Why was Optimus still even here?! What is wrong with me?! Dammit, dammit, dammit all! Blinking furiously, he covered his mouth to hide his ragged breathing.

Scrap, it’s just like last time. Is he mad? What did I say wrong this time? Is it because I accepted the apology? Why did he even apologize?! Is someone putting him up to this? This isn’t like him at all, what’s gotten into him? …Why’s he breathing like that? Prime’s audials flicked and honed in on Megatron. Peeking up a little more, he could see the faint reflection of the Decepticon’s face in the window. He saw the hand over his mouth, the distant gaze, and the blinking. The blinking. It only took him a second to realize what it meant, coupled with the rest of Megatron’s behavior, but he couldn’t rationalize it. Crying? Him?! …Scrap, what do I do? He swallowed and decided not to bring it up. No point in adding fuel to the fire. Still, of all the strange things that had happened in his life, this one was by far one of the most bizarre. Megatron and sadness just didn’t mix. The more he thought about it, the more he felt a strange pulling in his chest. Did it really hurt him that much?..

Many tense minutes passed in silence as both bots stayed in their own little bubbles. Megatron never once moved, trying desperately to steady his systems. Knockout said talking about things would make him feel better, but it just took him back to square one! Optimus stayed on the couch, tense and fidgeting. He didn’t know if staying or leaving would make things worse. Finally, though, he broke the silence. “...Have you…traveled much?”

“...Yes.” Megatron’s voice was forced and more scratchy than usual, struggling to hold back a torrent of unfamiliar feelings.

Spark pounding, Optimus pulled his knees under his chin. “...Tell me about it.”

Megatron needed a second to process that request. “What?”

“Tell me about your travels. I’ve never had the chance to go myself, and…I want to hear where you’ve been.”

Megatron didn’t really know how to take this. He knew it could easily be part of some plot by the Council to map out his previous movements, but Prime’s tone made him want to believe otherwise. The bot sounded sincere in his inquiry, and Megatron already knew Optimus to be the curious type. Maybe a little talking would sate the Autobot enough to get him away and let Megatron continue wallowing in his misery alone. And yet, he simultaneously wanted the Autobot’s company. “...Are you familiar with Tau Ceti?”

“N-No. Is it a planet?”

“A star. Far from here. Quite similar to the one on that organic planet you’re so attached to.”

Even through Megatron’s apparent misery, Optimus still detected the faintest hint of disgust towards Earth. “How’d you find it?”

“We were passing on our way to a trading post.”

“Oh. …What was it like? The star and the trading post.”

Why does he keep asking more and more? He’s curious. Fine. I’ll indulge this some more. “The trading post was like every other. Filthy, crowded, and somewhere few want to be. The star was…” Megatron paused, his expression softening momentarily before being forced back into a scowl. “The star was nothing remarkable.”

Optimus had been watching Megatron as he spoke, noting every change. “Can you tell me more?”

Megatron rubbed his mouth, debating if he should just tell Optimus to leave so he could remain in his comfortable, lonely anger. “It was big…red…nothing of note.”

Optimus curled up tighter, glancing away. Maybe he should stop pressing the issue. He should just leave and stop making this worse.

Megatron, in turn, noticed Prime’s shifting in his faint reflection and particularly, how his optics disappeared under the brim of his helm. That strange feeling returned to his chest, and he bit his cheek, thinking. “...It was…around the time of its solar maximum when its activity was nearing its peak. I happened to be in this very room to witness some of its more…impressive happenings.”

Optimus had peeked out from under his cap again, genuinely pulled in by the story. “What were the ‘impressive happenings’?”

“Several sunspots, often larger than its own planets, erratic pulsating light, and solar flares.”

Optimus looked up a little more and leaned forward, optics wide and glimmering with wonder. “Solar flares?”

Megatron’s spark THUMPed in his chest. Any consideration of making Optimus leave was gone, replaced by a slowly increasing energy level. He found it strange how much better he suddenly felt, especially once his frame relaxed a bit. “It’s… How to describe them… Imagine a star, bright and glowing. Now imagine a fiery arm like a whip expelling from its surface. Some are ribbons with a visible end, and some are arches. …The arches…are my personal favorite.” His posture loosened up even more, his arms now crossed under his chest. Despite sharing what Megatron considered more personal information, it didn’t make him all that uncomfortable.

Prime leaned forward even more, moving his feet off the couch onto the floor. “Were they big?”

“Each flare could extend for thousands of miles off the star’s surface.” Megatron made a small gesture to mimic it. His voice had grown softer and quieter, a noticeable change from the shaky rasp it had been not long before. “It’s important to be careful and watch from a safe distance, or you risk one hitting your ship. Even at that distance, however, the shifting magnetic field was still enough to take out our electrical components.”

The image Megatron created was fascinating. Scooting to the edge of the couch, Optimus leaned even more, now fully looking at his lector. “It sounds amazing. Did you see any other stars?”

“Many. More than I can count. …Would you like to hear about another?”

“I want to hear about them all.”

That got a little chuckle and a smirk out of Megatron. The straightforwardness of the request prompted him to turn around halfway and finally look at Optimus outside his reflection. What he saw was an excited, curious little mech staring at him with those optics he always found himself lost in. He found himself in stunned silence, his entire self softening as he was once again taken by their glow and glimmer, their depth, their color, the way their light reflected off Prime’s perfectly shaped features… For the first time, he didn’t immediately push the thoughts away. He let them sit for a minute, growing and churning and fueling that odd feeling in his chest. And that feeling just kept growing with each passing second. It didn’t feel bad this time, but it was still foreign and confusing. He began to develop an urge to get closer to Optimus, to touch him, to hold him again, to finally be allowed near his lips-

That was enough for Megatron to shove those thoughts away, hopefully, to never be seen again. What in Primus’ name were those, and where did they come from?! He immediately tensed back up again, hoping the feeling in his chest would subside.

As Megatron’s demeanor softened, so did Prime’s. His frame relaxed and he straightened his posture, never breaking eye contact. It was beyond strange to see his sworn enemy like this, but he couldn’t deny it was nice to not be at each other's throats. That color really does suit his optics… I wonder if they’re the same color as that star? He found himself with a strange, small knot in his chest that only seemed to grow the longer the two looked at each other. It didn’t feel like anxiety, but that’s what he chalked it up to. Eventually, though, Megatron broke their staring as he tensed back up and glanced away, with Optimus doing the same.

The two spent another few minutes in silence, fidgeting and not looking at each other. Megatron, in particular, was bothered. Prime’s optics were burned into his processor. He couldn’t unsee them. It was as if he’d been staring directly at an actual star! As he tried to ignore the thought, however, his memory landed on the perfect next tale.

“...Rigel was another star we visited. We were stopping at one of its planets to refuel. Where Ceti was red, Rigel was a bright blue.” Megatron didn’t need any nudging to give details this time. As he talked, he slowly relaxed and looked back at Optimus again. “Countless shades of blue in fact, all swirling on its surface like currents in a stream. Sparkling, mesmerizing, glowing, and gently flickering…” His spark thumped again. “Rigel had a halo of sorts. A faint glow could be seen around it, almost like mist, gently swaying and churning in its host’s magnetic field…” Megatron’s voice grew soft again, not noticing that he was once more lost in Prime’s starry, bright optics. Another thump, but harder this time. He would’ve jolted had he not been so entranced. His mind drifted again to his earlier thoughts as he spoke on autopilot about more stars. He’d again reached the part about Prime’s lips, but this time in his mind, he extended a hand and cupped the Autobot’s cheek-

Yet again, he shoved those thoughts away before anything else could happen in them, his spark now pounding in his chest. Once again, the nonexistent lighting served to mask the red of his face. And once again, he tensed back up and looked away, rubbing his mouth. What in Primus’ name am I thinking? There has to be something amiss in my code, I can not accept this as anything else! After all, why would he, Megatron, fantasize about-

“Don’t stop. …Please.” Even as Megatron retreated back into himself, Optimus didn’t waver from his perch on the edge this time.

Megatron glanced over, a deep fear and shame taking root inside him. The sight of those blue optics scared and invigorated him, the anxiety and excitement returning his momentum. “...Do you know about nebulas?”

“Oh! Yeah, I watched a documentary about them on Earth! They’re giant clouds of dust and stars stretching millions of miles through space. The colors? The shapes?” Leaning back, he tilted his head up a little towards the ceiling. “It’d be incredible to see in person.”

“I can assure you, it is far beyond ‘incredible.’” Prime’s attitude was infectious, quickly spreading back to Megatron as he loosened up again. “Once, we were sailing through the Ring nebula, what I would call a circular conglomeration of every color you could imagine when we unexpectedly stumbled upon an asteroid field not on our maps. We thought little of it and simply chose to navigate through. All was well until suddenly…” He grinned, lowering and widening his stance, his voice taking on a notably mischievous quality. “The asteroids began to move! Unbeknownst to us, we had stumbled right into the migrational territory of the Rock Lords!”

Optimus watched and listened like an excited child. “Rock Lords?”

“They are an organic species of sentient stone creatures, masking as plain debris as they drift along the currents of solar winds. We did not realize just how territorial they were until we were under attack.” By now, Megatron’s posture was very open, his gesturing more energetic. “Despite the resilience of the Nemesis, a calculated barrage from hundreds of angry rock creatures is still unpleasant. We were docked for weeks repairing the dents.”

“I never would’ve thought a species like that could exist! Although, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. We’re transforming vehicles, and Earth is…Earth. I guess the universe has a lot of variety.”

As good a mood as Megatron was in, the mention of Earth made him start chewing the inside of his cheek. He didn’t care for the planet for a variety of reasons.

Noticing his discomfort, Optimus changed the subject. “What else have you seen? Planets, creatures, events, I wanna know it all.”

Prime’s enthusiasm gave Megatron’s already big ego a boost. Someone wanted to listen to his pointless ramblings, and an Autobot, no less! It was strange, but he didn’t mind. The idea that it was an exploitation plot was all but forgotten, replaced with a hint of genuine excitement.

Megatron continued his tales and soon began pacing slowly in front of the window, gesturing and miming for added effect. His neutrality turned into a wide, genuine smile, growing bigger the more he talked. Optimus eventually joined in with his own diatribes and remarks, and the two talked the night away, more comfortable in each other’s company than they’d ever been. Prime watched, listened, and participated eagerly, pleasantly surprised at Megatron’s turnaround. It was strange to see him like this, but Optimus found himself rather enjoying this side of the Decepticon. It felt real. It felt right.

As morning crept closer, Optimus was fighting to stay awake. He’d nestled into the armrest on his side and was determined to keep his optics open and finish hearing Megatron out. The Decepticon, for his part, was also seated on the couch, leaning back and closer to Optimus than last time. His talking had slowed to almost nothing as he, too, grew tired but didn’t want to give up the pleasant atmosphere. Both sat relaxed and smiling, stealing occasional glances at each other. One of these times, they happened to make eye contact. Feeling a strong pull in his chest again, Megatron quickly looked away. He was suddenly very aware of the night’s events and started to close off again, tensing the more he thought about how uncharacteristically open he’d been. It was so unlike him, but something about Optimus had made him unable to stop.

Optimus softly chuckled as his optics struggled to stay even half open. He was a little loopy from lack of sleep, but he continued to stave it off. “Y’know…as strange as it is to say this, tonight was nice… I had a nice time…” He smiled warmly and, taking a deep breath, finally drifted off.

Megatron watched from the corner of his vision as the gentle blue of Prime’s optics faded, giving way to a steadily rising and falling frame as his venting slowed. Certain Optimus was asleep, Megatron gradually turned his head to face him. That all too familiar feeling in his chest was stronger than ever, dragging with it his thoughts again. In them, he cupped Prime’s cheek again and this time, pulled him closer-

He turned away, pressing his eyes shut. He was just tired, or it was some error in his code. He didn’t care if Knockout hadn’t found one yet, it had to be! He collected himself but couldn’t help looking again. Optimus was nestled comfortably, his face calm and serene and perfectly outlined by the faint glow of the emergency exit sign. Of all the beautiful things Megatron had talked about tonight, they paled in comparison to this. He tried to swallow his feelings but failed, quietly sliding over to the sleeping bot. His face was just as beautiful up close as last time, if not more. Acting on impulse, he reached out to touch it but pulled back just short when Optimus’ finials flicked. A knot grew in his stomach, unfamiliar to him as guilt and desire. He felt so strange and could make sense of none of it.

After some internal back and forth, he decided that the best thing to do would be to once again carry Optimus back to his room. The smaller bot was carefully lifted and cradled like the last time, every strange feeling growing with every step Megatron took through the empty halls of the ship. Arriving at Prime’s closet, Megatron opened the door and took one last look at the sleeping bot. His urges won out this time, and he adjusted his hold to be a little more snug, caressing Prime’s cheek with only a finger. He started to lean down again, his fantasies proceeding all the way to their inevitable conclusion: the two embracing each other, their lips locked in a warm, passionate kiss. He stopped short again and pulled back in horror that he’d even think that.

Spark pounding in his chest, Megatron reached inside the room, carefully and quickly depositing Optimus on his bed. Optimus. Even thinking his name was jarring and confusing. Megatron quickly left after this, making a beeline for the medbay. He needed an answer, and he needed it now.

~~~~~~

Ratchet was awoken from a mostly pleasant sleep by a loud set of footsteps entering the medbay. Blinking from his stupor, he unfortunately saw Megatron. “Go away. We’re closed.”

Megatron was fidgety, tapping his foot anxiously. “The medbay is never closed. I need to see Knockout.”

“He’s sleepin’. Go away.”

“Then wake him up!”

“Nah, I don’t feel like it.”

Megatron huffed and growled, rubbing his mouth. “Do not argue with me, Autobot. I need to speak with him.”

“My joints hurt, I ain’t movin’ from this chair.”

Megatron was fed up and full of emotions. Just as he was about to go find the doctor himself, Knockout appeared, rubbing the sleep from his optics. “What’s all the noise, Ratchet? Do you need an- Ah! Lord Megatron, how pleasant it is to see you up bright and early!” Slightly panicked, he motioned for Ratchet to go to his own room, which the older bot gladly did.

“Knockout, there is something very wrong. You swear there is nothing wrong in my code?” There was a noticeable panic in Megatron’s voice he was struggling to hide.

“Have a seat.” Knockout sighed and gestured towards a bed, pulling up a chair in front of his patient. “Now, what seems to be the problem?”

“I-I don’t know!” Megatron stared wide-eyed at the floor, holding his helm. “We were talking like you said to, and I started thinking, and it just… I just… I need another processor scan. There has to be something wrong!”

“Optics on me, alright? Deep vent in… Hold… Deep vent out…” They did this breathing exercise a few times before Megatron seemed sufficiently calm. “Since brain scans have come up empty, perhaps we need a different approach.”

Megatron nodded, clenching his fists.

“Now, let’s start from the beginning. Who were you speaking to?”

Megatron swallowed, almost regretting coming here. Talking is good, talking is good… Talking is what got you here in the first place. Dammit all. “...The Autobot.”

“I see. And what were you talking about?”

“I… Everything, I suppose. I started with my travels, and we moved further into personal anecdotes, and history, and theories, and… I don’t know what happened. It felt strange, but…nice.”

“Hmm… Can you describe these feelings to me?”

“It’s…a strange pulling in my spark. It’s not nerves or malice. I do not know how to describe it.”

“And when does this feeling happen? Is it associated with any particular thoughts or actions?”

Megatron opened his mouth to speak but stopped as Optimus popped into the front of his mind. He hesitated. Was it really smart to go any further?

“Lord Megatron?”

“...The Autobot. When he’s around me, or speaking to me, or invading my mind at every waking moment- …I do not know how he did it, but he weaseled his way into my mind.”

Oh, this is juicy. “And what, may I ask, do these thoughts contain?”

They contain nothing but shame and confusion. “They…they contain…the Autobot. He and I, we… I mean I…” His mouth was dry. How could he explain this? “His optics. ...I held him… I touched his face, and then I-” His face twitched. He couldn’t say anything further.

“When would you say these types of thoughts started?”

“A while…I think. It was…I believe when we were lost inside a small planet, during the Unicron incident.”

“And these feelings have grown stronger since then? All in relation to Prime?”

“Yes! I do not know what they are, and I have no wish to harm him since we are currently in the midst of peace negotiations.”

Knockout leaned back in his chair, considering what he should do. “I believe I know what this is, my Liege.”

“Yes?”

Knockout chuckled, smiling gently. “You’re in love.”

Something inside Megatron snapped. Love. In love. In love with an Autobot. With the most irritating little one he’d ever met. He sat in stunned silence, eye twitching. It was impossible. There was no way! He was Megatron, he didn’t feel love for anyone, especially not for an Autobot, and especially not for this one! He shook his head weakly in disbelief. “...No.”

“My Lord, it all adds up. Your feelings, your thoughts, your actions… There's nothing else it could be, in my expert opinion.”

Megatron didn’t hear him, his audials ringing. His processor swirled with every possible thought of Optimus, of himself, their interactions, his recently fluctuating mood, congealing it all into one big mess as his spark pounded in his chest harder than it ever had. His vision began to swim, his breath growing shallow again. Nothing was right, nothing made sense.

“Lord Megatron, please calm down. Deep vent in, deep vent in, alright?”

Not a word of that registered as Megatron stood, head spinning and legs wobbly, and rushed out of the medbay.

~~~~~~

Megatron forced the door of his quarters closed, nearly breaking it. He leaned back on it, his vents trying to stop him from overheating in vain. His frame heaved with every breath, his entire body shaking and threatening to shut down. Love… I love… No…no, not possible, impossible! It’s not… I can’t… He… His optics burned as tears started to pour from them and left hot trails down his face, his sobs making his breathing even worse. All his emotions had come to a head, culminating in a loud shout as he threw a punch into the wall again. He let out a loud, guttural yell, the pain and frustration fully consuming him. Be angry, be angry, why can’t you be angry, dammit?! As much as he tried, he couldn’t. Whimpering, he slid down to the floor and curled up as tight as he could, grabbing his helm and burying his face. Everything hurt, and nothing made sense anymore.

Chapter Text

Optimus woke up the next morning feeling better than he had in a while. He laid on his back, staring at the ceiling and recalling his meetup with Megatron. It had been a very pleasant night, to his surprise and relief. Many stories and jokes were told, and once the conversation had gotten rolling, nothing dampened it again. It was so strange to have seen Megatron in such high spirits, smiling, laughing, and participating with an enthusiasm Optimus never would’ve believed possible from him had he not seen it firsthand. A wide smile slowly formed on his face. It felt nice to have someone to talk to. Someone who shared his interests. Someone who understood him. Despite it being Megatron, he surprisingly didn’t mind. Maybe it’s good that he’s acting like this. It’s progress. Maybe if we keep this up, we’ll be able to get through these peace conferences a bit more smoothly! He shifted around a little, musing upon their conversations. He soon found himself focusing a bit more on Megatron’s wide smile, crimson optics, and his laughter, bright and clear as it had echoed in that little room. Optimus frowned. There should be no reason for him to think of Megatron in any amount of positive light, especially not after all the heinous acts the Decepticon had committed. These thoughts were interrupted by brief flashes of how Megatron had reacted to the questions about Nova, raising more questions. He still needed to cross-check that recording with Ratchet and find out more. He’d have to ask his friend; he didn’t want to risk upsetting Megatron again. Not after how bad things had been after the first time.

At that moment, a notification came from Shockwave that meetings were once again put on hold for the foreseeable future for reasons unknown. An awful lot of meetings are being canceled as of late. It was troubling, but Optimus chalked it up as the Council likely being uncooperative again.

He sat up and stretched, feeling as if literal tons had been taken off him. He felt great, all things considered. A walk did sound nice right now; he’d been staying cooped in his room far too much. Maybe he’d get out of his room and go see Ratchet in a bit.

~~~~~~

Megatron had spent the entire morning since he got back awake and curled on the floor. His breathing was shallow and ragged, and his entire frame was drained of warmth as he twitched on the cold ground. His mouth and throat were dry and cracking, having not drunk since earlier the previous day. His head pounded with a strong, dull ache as thoughts of the previous months bounced around, pounding and desperate to get out. Even closing his eyes was no relief. All he saw when he did was that final, culminating thought of him and Optimus sharing such an intimate moment. His optics burned from tears and being forced to stay open for so long, but what other choice did he have? He couldn’t even feel angry, and Primus knew he’d been trying. All that coursed through him was fear, confusion, and disgust with himself. No… No no nonono it’s impossible! How could I- …How could he- …Dammit, dammit dammit dammit! Whimpering, he used what little energy he had to push through the pain in his joints to curl as small as he possibly could. He dug his fingers into his helm as hard as he could, praying for everything to stop, but there was no answer. All he got instead were flashes of Prime’s glowing optics and his beautiful smile, as if taunting Megatron. He felt like he was going insane, the barrage of memories and thoughts not once ceasing. He didn’t want to believe it. He couldn't. His goal was to kill the Autobot, not kiss him! Both of those options now made him feel sick. What had changed? Why? Why why why?

After several hours had passed, Megatron only felt worse. His tanks were growling, his mouth and throat were so dry they were cracking and leaking energon, his head felt like it was going to explode, every inch of his frame was cold and aching, his mind was a vortex of confusion, and his anger, his one safety net, was nowhere to be found. He felt more exposed and helpless than he had in eons. He wouldn’t admit it to even himself, but he was scared. Scared of himself, of Optimus, the Council… He wanted comfort. He yearned for it, but who could he even go to? His subordinates feared him, even Knockout. His Generals were in a similar position; they were closer, but their relationships were entirely professional. The Autobot guests were absolutely out of the question. His thoughts again flashed to Optimus, making him wince. As good a listener as he’d been, Megatron could not go to him with these problems or in this condition. Optimus could never know about this.

Squandering another half hour weighing his options, Megatron started to try getting up. It was difficult and painful, but eventually, he managed to sit up and scoot to the nearest corner by the door, where he would sit curled in the smallest shape he could for the remainder of the day.

~~~~~~

Sentinel had trailed Cyclonus for several dozen blocks through the Petrex residential district, watching with disgust as the buildings got more run down and the streets emptier the further they went. The roads were falling apart or flat-out nonexistent in some spots, and trash was strewn about. The alleys Sentinel kept hiding in grew more infested and dirty, and he swore he could see an occasional pair of optics looking at him from empty windows. After a long, unsettling walk, Cyclonus stopped in front of a building, much to Sentinel’s relief. He watched as the Decepticon knocked on a door and entered the inky blackness within, almost immediately disappearing from sight. Creeping closer, he peeked through a slit in a boarded-up window in hopes of seeing something. All he saw was darkness, so he moved on to the next window, then the next. Checking the fourth window, he did catch a glimpse of some faint light and muffled murmuring. Jackpot.

He quietly made his way back to the front entrance and tried the handle. It was, of course, locked. Lucky for Sentinel, however, he was able to pick it within a couple of minutes with a piece of scrap metal off the ground. It creaked open, and after a few moments to confirm no one had heard it, he crept inside. He found himself in the lobby of an abandoned apartment complex. It was dark and dingy, but he took a step forward, immediately crunching on broken glass. At the sound, hundreds of tiny, bright pinpricks were staring at him. Sentinel froze, his spark pounding as he flicked on his shoulder lights. He watched in horror as hundreds of cyber rats skittered away in a split second, disappearing inside piles of trash and debris. Figures they’d have their ‘meetings’ here. No bot in his right mind would ever come here! He placed himself in the category of ‘sound-minded’ bots; he was here on a mission, not for fun.

Proceeding through the main hall wasn’t any more of a pleasant experience, but at least the trip was short. He again had to pick the lock of the fourth door, but this one came much easier. It cracked open without a sound, letting him peek in. Inside, the room was run down but leagues cleaner and more dry than the rest of the building had been, with not even a rat to be seen! There was a single faint light sitting atop a pile of discarded construction materials, illuminating a few bots seated in a circle in rickety chairs. Among them were Cyclonus, Deadlock, and Hotrod, whom he’d seen on the news, Smokescreen, to his surprise, and another bot who looked the same but with a silvery paint job. He almost didn’t notice the fifth bot in the room; he was small enough to be hidden by Deadlock before. His optics widened in surprise upon seeing Ironhide, of all bots. He’d been so anti-Decepticon when Sentinel oversaw his training in the Academy; what was he doing here? Maybe he was another plant by Ultra Magnus to provide support for Sentinel should anything go wrong.

Sentinel listened for a minute, unable to make out what the group was murmuring about. Soon though, the group silenced, and Cyclonus sighed, his back to the door. “I can hear your venting.”

He was clearly addressing Sentinel, making the blue bot stumble back. He reached for his subspace, fumbling for a stun gun.

“There is no point in attacking us. If I had wanted you dead, I would have killed you before we left MacCadams.”

Cyclonus knew he was being trailed, even with how stealthy Sentinel thought he’d been? This guy absolutely had the potential to be extremely dangerous.

“Hey, if you wanna come in, we’re always happy to have new members.” Deadlock turned around, searching for Sentinel in the darkness of the hall with his terrifyingly bright optics.

Sentinel swallowed nervously, his frame slightly shaking. He’d been compromised, they knew he was here! Should he run? They’d certainly catch him. As far as he saw, the only way out now was through. Who knows, maybe Ultra Magnus would appreciate him infiltrating the group; he could take it down from the inside and regain his favor and perhaps even be promoted back to Prime! The prospect of that filled him with some confidence. Taking a deep vent in, he carefully pushed open the door.

“Sentinel! Hey, it’s great to see you outside of work!” Smokescreen was as annoyingly upbeat as ever. “Here, why don’t you come sit by me? We have an extra chair!” The chair in question looked more akin to a pile of scrap metal, but it was better than sitting on the floor. Annoyed but cautious, he accepts his fate for the greater good, plopping down with a huff.

Deadlock smiled wide, sending shivers down Sentinel’s spine. “Now then, it would only be proper to welcome the newest member of our weekly therapy book club circle! We’ll go around the circle and introduce ourselves, starting off with our guest.”

He must’ve heard wrong. “Wait, what? A…a book club? Therapy?! What is this, some kinda joke?!”

“I assure you, my friend, this is no joke.” Deadlock had such a calm, soft demeanor despite who Sentinel knew he was. “We’re simply a small group of bots looking for acceptance and companionship in these trying times.”

“...What?”

“We gather weekly in search of respite from the troubles of life. We come here and discuss our personal goings-on and help each other work through problems! We also read books.” The Decepticon pulled out a small datapad containing a fantasy novel and extended it to Sentinel. “This is a copy for you if you’d like to join us.”

Sentinel squinted, in disbelief at every word he’d just heard come from this guy’s mouth. A book club?! Seriously?! What kind of a shitty front is that? These guys are hiding something, and I’m gonna find out what it is. …Wait, is this what Smokescreen means when he blabbers on about his therapy?! Still stunned, he accepts the datapad.

“Now then, how about those introductions? You can tell us whatever you’re comfortable disclosing: name, faction, hobbies, whatever you’d like.”

If this is how I get my rank back, then so be it. Not all that thrilled with his situation, he grumbled out an introduction. “Designation: Sentinel. Faction: Autobot.”

“Well, we’re happy to have you here with us today, Sentinel.” Deadlock smiled, more gently this time, as he clasped his hands together.

“Cyclonus. Decepticon. Stranded on Cybertron and making the best of it.”

“Always a pleasure to have you here, Cyclonus. I’m glad to hear you’ve been doing well. I am Deadlock. Former Decepticon, currently searching for my life’s purpose. I like reading.” He grins again, holding up his tiny book.

Didn’t think Decepticons had the mental capacity for literacy. Sentinel kept the remark to himself, rolling his optics instead.

“‘Sup, I’m Hotrod, I’m an Autobot, and I like racing. And this guy right here?” He enthusiastically points to Deadlock. “He’s like, my best friend now. That’s about it.”

“You brighten our day with your presence, Hotrod.”

Sentinel could feel his processor begin to overheat from how annoyed he was.

“Ironhide Prime! Proud Autobot and enjoyer of fine high-grade!” The bright red bot shot up from his seat and saluted, standing at attention as if at a ceremony before sitting back down.

“Your enthusiasm for the finer things in life is always welcome here.”

“Uh…hi, I’m Bluestreak.” The silver ninja bot sat with his arms crossed, clearly a bit tense. “I’m uh…I’m an Autobot, recently released from jail over theft. Smokescreen dragged me here, and you guys kinda grew on me.”

“Heck yeah, I dragged you here! You needed this, man!” Smokescreen wrapped an arm around his friend’s shoulders, playfully wiggling him around. “I’m Smokescreen, by the way, but you all know me by now. Even Sentinel. We work together on that cleanup crew I told you guys about!”

Sentinel’s eye twitched. Staying here might’ve been a mistake.

“It’s always great to see you two here. Your dedication is quite admirable.” Deadlock addressed the two ninja bots with a smile like he’d done for everyone else. “Now then. Why don’t we start today’s session by talking about how our weeks have been? Do I have any volunteers?”

Sentinel stared at some speck on the floor, angry and confused. A book club. A book club? Really?! There’s no way they weren’t a front. There had to be some secret codes in the books or in the language they used while talking. He’d comb through everything later, but right now, he slumped lower in his seat, regret and irritation pooling in his spark over his poor choice to have even come here. As he drowned out Deadlock’s yammering, he hoped this would at least be worth it in the end.

Chapter Text

Optimus jaunted into the medbay in considerably high spirits. He was still riding the high of his and Megatron’s most recent meetup and had decided to use his newfound energy to visit Ratchet; all his other companions aboard the ship had been rather busy with their own matters. That’s not to say Ratchet wasn’t, but if he was going to be out for long periods of time, Optimus felt most comfortable in the medbay. Patients were few and far between for reasons unknown to him, so he actually had a chance to catch up with the old medic. Knockout had made an occasional appearance as well, though he didn’t say much, surprisingly. All he really did was awkwardly glance over Optimus and then leave. It was strange, but Prime didn’t particularly mind. Although, it did make him wonder if something was up or if he’d somehow offended the Decepticon.

It was around late afternoon or early evening time when he took his now usual seat by Ratchet’s desk. “What’s the latest, doc bot?”

“Same ol’, same ol’. Young idiots getting hurt and becoming my problem, cleaning my tools, writing reports… Not much of a change from last time. You still seem to be in a good mood. Better than I’ve seen you in a while, in fact.”

“Oh, absolutely. I feel great!”

“Wanna tell me what’s gotten you like this?”

Ratchet seemed genuinely curious about what had gotten into Optimus, but he wasn’t sure how to explain it to the old doctor or if it was even a good idea in the first place. “Well…I kind of…had a personal meeting with Megatron.”

Ratchet slowly blinked. “...What?”

Scrap, scrap, scrap, abort, abort! “I-I mean, we met to talk about things! Nothing important, just…stuff.”

“Stuff?! What kinda ‘stuff’ could you possibly talk about ‘personally’ with Megatron, of all bots?!”

Scrap. “Oh, y’know… History, astronomy, life…”

Ratchet’s fuel line pressure was through the roof. “Why would you do that? Did you expect honest answers? A Decepticon couldn’t be honest if his life depended on it!”

“Actually…that’s something I wanted to talk to you about. I’d meant to bring this earlier but didn’t think to.” Optimus pulled out the datapad containing the recording from the night he’d asked his questions about Nova and set it on the counter at Ratchet’s station. “I wanted to fact-check what Megatron had said with you, just in case. I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to bother you, I’m sure it’s not a point of history you particularly enjoy remembering.” Seems it wasn’t one Megatron enjoyed either…

Ratchet sighed, taking a seat in his rolly chair. “Whatever I might feel about it, you deserve the truth. I’ll be honest, I’ve seen what the Academy teaches and most of it is half-truths or outright lies, but you’re a smart kid. You probably already knew that.”

Optimus had long had his suspicions, but hearing it from another bot who’d witnessed those events helped further cement this new knowledge. Taking a deep vent in and out, he hit ‘play.’”

Neither bot said a word as the recording played. Hours passed with not a single interruption, and as Prime’s last recorded line of ‘I should leave’ concluded, so did the recording. Ratchet had been leaning with one elbow on the counter, a somewhat distant look in his optics.

Optimus remained silent as well, unsure of what to do. He felt guilty for bringing this burden unto yet another bot who clearly didn’t have any good memories about the subject. He hoped Ratchet would at least fare better than Megatron.

“...Not a word was false.”

Optimus lifted his head a bit, brow slightly furrowed. “Really? Not a word?”

Ratchet nodded, the pieces not connecting in his mind. “It doesn’t make sense. There’s no reason for him to be honest. It’d be more beneficial for him to just lie to try getting on your good side.” He paused, rubbing his cheek. “Maybe he’s starting with truths and is gonna slowly squeeze in lies as he goes. Slowly poisoning the fuel supply, so to speak. He’s tricky. He’d do anything to get a leg up on the Council, even if he had to use you to get to them.”

Optimus knew Ratchet was almost certainly right, but he couldn’t shake just how sincere Megatron had come off. Then there was also the crying… “Have you ever seen Megatron upset?”

“Oh, he’s been nothing but angry for thousands of years! Understandable, considering…this,” He gestured at the datapad. “But what isn’t justifiable is everything else he’s done because of that anger. He pretty much said so himself here.”

Optimus shook his head. “Not that kind of upset. I mean…upset. …Crying.”

“Don’t think he has it in ‘im anymore, if he ever really did. Although…he did come here last night. I didn’t hear much, but he seemed panicked, for lack of a better word.”

That was news to Optimus. He was certain last night had gone smoothly for the both of them. What was there to panic about? “Did you catch why?”

“Nope, only a few random words. Everything else was too fast and muffled. Knockout was takin’ care of him though, might wanna ask him.”

Did I say something wrong again? I thought everything was fine once the conversation got rolling. He frowned and nodded, now having a better understanding of why Knockout might’ve been acting the way he was. “Are you ok? I didn’t mean to bring up anything uncomfortable with this…”

“Nah, you’re fine, kid. It’s not my favorite subject to discuss, but if you want the truth, you deserve to know it.”

“Thank you, Ratchet. I really appreciate it.” He subspaced the datapad and sighed. “Is it ok if I run these kinds of things by you in the future?”

“Course it’s fine. You oughta have your facts straight.”

You’re a lifesaver, old friend. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

The old bot smiled, leaning his back against the wall. “Don’t mention it, kid. I’m just happy to help.”

~~~~~~

The day had come and gone since Megatron locked himself away. He’d barely slept and hadn’t refueled at all in that time. He forced himself to at least try drinking something as he sat on the floor, leaning back on his couch. The cube of fuel tasted dirty and metallic. Whether it was due to supplies running low or Megatron’s current state, he didn’t know, and he didn’t care. Either way, it tasted disgusting. The two sips he’d taken in the last six hours made him feel sick, and it only worsened with each passing minute. His optics felt heavy and burned as he stared at a little blue dot on the ceiling, glowing in the darkness of his quarters. It flickered and blinked occasionally as if mocking him, a cheap imitation of Optimus’ optics.

Optimus… That name had been relentlessly gnawing at his processor, stripping away what little respite isolation provided him. He had neither the desire nor energy to be angry or to even be upset. All he felt now was empty. An occasional pang in his chest would cause him to jolt and take a sharp vent in, brought upon by brief thoughts of the Prime. Why… Why would Primus give me such a test… Growing weaker, his optics slowly closed, taking him into an uneasy sleep.

Megatron knew he was dreaming, and yet he couldn’t wake up. He sat on the couch in the observation room with Optimus cuddled close. Not a word was exchanged, but the atmosphere spoke for the both of them. Optimus looked up at him with those big, blue optics, the same ones that tormented his every waking moment. The little bot moved from his position, sitting up on his knees, reaching out a hand to caress Megatron’s cheek, and slowly pulling him closer until-

The dream came to a rapid end as Megatron awoke panting, his vents in overdrive. He could almost feel Prime’s hand on his cheek, the heat from his frame still present on Megatron. Reaching a shaky hand up, he touched where Optimus had in the dream, hoping he really would be there, but came up empty. A phantom sensation. Nothing more. He leaned his head back and dropped his arm as two tears slid from his optics. He couldn’t understand why he wanted this so bad and why he was so upset he couldn’t. Love… In love… I… Primus forgive me… He squeaked, wiping his cheeks with his entire palm. His spark ached worse than it ever had. He so desperately wanted to hold Optimus and to be held in turn, to hug, to kiss, to whisper sweet nothings to each other into the early hours of the morning…but he couldn’t admit it to himself. He wanted to believe it but hated himself for wanting it. In all the thousands of years he’d lived, why now? Of the millions of bots he’d met in his life, why this one? Why? Dammit, why?!

His venting was ragged, punctuated by raspy sobs as he tried in vain to push his desires deep down and ignore them, but the more he tried, the more force they sprang back up with. Optimus was burned into his processor, and nothing short of offlining would make it stop. It should have happened long ago-

The thought of going offline only made him feel worse. What was he thinking? He had a responsibility to his people, and he had the gall to consider doing that?! And here he was, avoiding that responsibility by moping and whining in his room. How could he make it stop? How could he get these thoughts to go away? He was desperate at this point, he’d do anything. Anything…even mnemosurgery. He winced at the thought, remembering his previous run-in with the procedure, but what choice did he have? It would at least get rid of these thoughts…

He was awake, seeing every part of it; the surgeon’s face in shadow, his malicious grin the only thing Megatron remembered of his visage. He watched as the doctor moved his hand up to his brain module, dancing the tips of the needles over it. He felt the cold, thin needles slide into the connection nodes of his exposed processor, tingling with electricity as they poked and prodded into the very core of his being. Then suddenly, a cold, stabbing sensation rushed from the center of his brain out through his entire body, pushing out a terrified, guttural scream.

He felt even more sick now, his whole frame shaking as he tried to stand up. Noticing his reflection in a small mirror on the wall, he grimaced, nearly crying again. He looked pathetic, more than he had in a long time. He pushed through his pain to straighten his posture as best as he could, wiping his face to try looking more presentable. Disgusting. Pathetic. Weak.

Shuffling to the door, he forced himself to ignore his screaming joints and walk like normal to the medbay. Knockout… Knockout will help me… He can find a surgeon…

~~~~~~

Optimus had spent the day with Ratchet in the medbay, mostly on his datapad, but having occasional conversations. Some were in reference to the recording they’d listened to, but most were just ramblings or Ratchet complaining. All things considered, it was quite pleasant. At the moment, Optimus was helping Ratchet rearrange things in his office, and Knockout was busy organizing his supply cabinets. All was quiet and peaceful.

That silence was broken as a familiar face shuffled in. Megatron dropped his false confidence as soon as the door closed, looking utterly disheveled; he was limp and slouched over, his optics were half-lidded and sunken in, and his paint somehow seemed more gray than usual, if that was even possible. Giving him a concerned look, Knockout was immediately at his side as the lumbering mess plopped down on the exam table and buried his face in his hands.

Knockout sighed and pulled up a chair, praying Optimus wouldn’t come out until Megatron had left. “Lord Megatro-”

“Find me a mnemosurgeon.”

“Absolutely not.” Knockout was horrified Megatron would even suggest it.

“I order you to-”

“You’re ordering nothing. I refuse to aid in your self-destruction. I will not allow such drastic measures. There is absolutely no need to rip out your thoughts and memories over this!” He leaned back and crossed his arms, his voice stern. “Have you tried just talking to him about this? Admitting it out loud?”

“Talking is what got me here in the first place.” Megatron didn’t even have the energy to pretend to be angry. “He can never know about this.”

Knockout lowered his voice, glancing at the hall to the offices. “And why not?”

“He despises me, and rightfully so. It would shatter what fragile truce we have.”

Taking one more look down the hall, Knockout’s face softened. “It’s not just that, is it?”

Megatron was too afraid to respond.

“You’re scared you’ll lose his companionship. You finally found someone who seems to understand you and shares your interests. Whether he would reciprocate or turn you down, I can’t say, but he’s a good bot. He wouldn’t drop his goals of reaching peace over something like this.”

“How could you possibly know that for certain?”

“I don’t. But I know you and him well enough. You’re both loyal to your people, and you both want what’s best. You’re stubborn and persistent. Whatever happens, neither of you are going to give up.”

Megatron shook his head. He knew Knockout was right, but nothing he said was sticking right now. His mind was still full of thoughts of Optimus, mnemosurgery, the Council, and every bit of turmoil those brought.

Knockout sighed, laying a hand on his superior’s arm. “I know it’s not easy. New feelings can be scary and confusing, but you owe it to yourself to get through this. At the very least, try to admit it to yourself. Come to terms with it, don’t run from it. Maybe it’ll go nowhere, and you might feel like you’re in a rut for a bit, but it gets better. I’m always here if you need anything. It’ll be ok.”

Megatron couldn’t understand why Knockout was reassuring him. He felt pathetic over his show of weakness; he shouldn’t need comfort from anyone, much less from his own doctor! Megatron, the Decepticon conqueror who struck fear into the sparks of millions, had decayed into a limp, emotional mess, getting therapy from someone who really shouldn’t care. He regretted leaving his room now, but his frame was begging for comfort and touch, from a certain Autobot in particular. He didn’t respond, only nodding weakly.

“How does some fuel sound?”

The mere thought of it made Megatron feel sick, but he still nodded.

Giving him a half-smile, Knockout retrieved a small cube of medical-grade fuel. Taking a sip, the bitter taste hit Megatron’s tongue, leaving a metallic flavor behind. It was disgusting, but he didn’t have the energy to muster a reaction. He stared at it in silence, watching the ripples formed by his shaking. Pathetic.

Quiet footsteps entered the room from the hall as Optimus came in to look for some reports Ratchet needed to file away. He didn’t immediately notice Megatron, but when he did, a look of concern washed over his face. The Decepticon looked ragged and utterly deflated, a jarring change from last night. I can’t believe I’m asking this, but, “Are you…ok?”

Megatron didn’t know how to respond. He couldn’t. Optimus was right there in front of him, trapping his gaze with those soft optics, asking about his well-being, and Megatron was too scared to say anything. His spark rate increased, and his mouth dried instantly, sending his processor into a panic. His systems were screaming for him to do something, so he did. Tearing his eyes away from Optimus, he quickly left the medbay, leaving Optimus confused. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, no, not at all! He’s simply feeling under the weather.”

Optimus wasn’t buying it. “He was perfectly fine last night. Did something happen?”

Oh dear. He’s observant and nosy. “I assure you, Optimus, he’s simply feeling a little ill. Just a bad line of code, he’ll be feeling better in no time.”

“Maybe I’ll go see him and make sure…” Optimus wasn’t certain why he was concerned about Megatron’s well-being. There was no reason for him to, outside of him being a rather important half of their negotiations, but a strange pain in his spark made him wonder.

“Later, perhaps. I ordered him to rest for now to regain some strength.” The doctor hoped his lie would be enough to deter the Autobot, but knew in his spark it wouldn’t. He’d said himself that Optimus was stubborn just minutes ago.

“If you say so.” He watched the door for a moment before returning to Ratchet with the reports.

Knockout sighed with relief. It didn’t seem like Optimus had overheard any of the conversation. It was a good sign that he was concerned about Megatron, too. Perhaps this was a little ray of light peeking through the darkness.

~~~~~~

Megatron had gone straight back to his quarters, his panic growing by the second. Optimus…there… Did he hear?.. How much does he know? Why did he ask about my well-being? Why care? …Does he..? He paced around his room, knees threatening to give out. Why was he there? He heard everything and lied. Why pretend to care? …Does he care..? Megatron wouldn’t dare hope. The sight of Optimus was terrifying, even more so in his current state. There was no way he wouldn’t report this to the Council. They’d use this against Megatron, driving his madness further, until he finally broke, and they could have their way. What little anger that thought raised was quickly quashed. It…sounded real…like he was concerned… Why? Why care? Any Autobot in their right mind should want me dead! So why did he look at me like that? Why did he sound like that?

The idea of Optimus caring about him was equally as comforting as it was anxiety-inducing. He didn’t want to be alone right now; he wanted to be with Optimus in that little observation room, talking about nothing and pretending for a while that everything was ok. But he was alone. Always was, always would be. There was no room for such frivolities as love or friendship in his position.

Megatron’s venting again grew ragged as his optics began to burn. Primus, he was lonely. He hadn’t realized it until now, but it hurt like a stab wound. He hunched over, arms wrapped tightly around himself in a poor attempt to calm down. Squeezing his eyes shut, he involuntarily pictured Optimus again, being the one delivering the hug rather than himself. It brought little comfort, knowing it wasn’t real. He wanted so badly for it to be. Those shimmering optics, those full lips, his beautiful mind, his strong personality…he wanted them all more than almost anything he’d ever wanted before.

“...I love him…” His throat tore and crackled as he spoke, but despite the pain, it felt like a small weight had been lifted off his spark. “...I love him…” The more he repeated those words, the lighter he felt. He was still exhausted and anxious, but it gave way to a new, more pleasant feeling trickling in to replace it. “I love him…” A tiny smile cracked his lips, but the brief pain went unnoticed.

At that moment, a soft knock sounded on the door. Megatron vented in sharply, startled from his pleasant stupor. He hesitated to answer the door; he didn’t want anyone else to see him in this state. Another knock came, and he still didn’t move. After a minute or so, whoever was on the other side left, their footsteps soon disappearing. He stared at the door for a couple more minutes, noticing a faint pink glow leaking in under it. He spent another few minutes debating if he should leave it be, but his curiosity got the better of him. Hobbling over, he cracked the door and peeked out. The hall was thankfully empty, but upon looking down, his spark thumped in his chest. Megatron opened the door a little more, enough to reach and pick up one of the energon cubes he’d left for Optimus a few days ago.

I love him…

Chapter Text

“A book club, Sentinel?” Ultra Magnus glanced coldly over the top of the report, sending a shiver down his subordinate’s spine.

“Yes Sir, a therapy book club.” Sentinel stood tense, barely keeping his venting in check. “They apparently meet weekly and just…talk about their feelings.”

“And you joined them, is that correct?”

“Y-Yes Sir. I was compromised, and thought it best.”

“Your carelessness could have compromised this entire mission, Sentinel. You are lucky these criminals were so receptive to you.” Magnus’ tone indicated quite clearly that that wasn’t a compliment.

“I… Yes Sir, it won’t happen again, Sir.” He shrank back, hanging his head in shame.

“Look at me when I am speaking to you.”

Sentinel’s head felt heavy, but he forced eye contact. “Yes, Sir.”

Ultra Magnus set down the datapad, lacing his fingers together. “It greatly troubles me how these Decepticons have been able to ensnare many of our own already. The few names on this list are of great concern; Ironhide and Hotrod have been upstanding and loyal soldiers for centuries, but it seems even our best are no longer safe. Smokescreen and Bluestreak are unsurprising. They already have a criminal record, and swaying them further in that direction is no difficult feat. Decepticons prey on the most influential, or the most vulnerable in our society, slowly bringing them over to their cause with lies and empty promises. You know this to be true, Sentinel.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You will remain steadfast, and rescue our brethren from their clutches before these Decepticons can execute whatever nefarious plans they are concocting.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Now then. You will continue to attend these ‘meetings’ and gather what information you can. Gain their trust by any means necessary, but keep your intentions hidden. You will take note of even the smallest particles of information that can be used against this group. They will be incriminated and dealt with properly once we have that. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You are dismissed.”

Sentinel hurried out, only stopping once he was outside the building. Ultra Magnus was a master of keeping up his mask of stoicism, but he was even better at showing precisely what emotion he wanted in whatever miniscule capacity he wanted. His ability to pick and choose like that, letting his emotions simmer just below the surface in such a controlled manner, was his most terrifying aspect to Sentinel. He shuffled down the street as his spark rate steadied, ignoring the looks he got from pedestrians. He couldn’t afford to fail this mission. One way or another, his life depended on its success.

~~~~~~

Megatron spent the entire night on his couch, nursing the pink cube. He’d finally managed to get some sleep, but his myriad worries still woke him occasionally. Come morning, there were only a few sips left to go, but he couldn’t quite stomach them yet. Instead, he held the drink over his head and swirled it around, watching the particles dance and glitter inside it. He didn’t know how, but he’d managed to get over that first hurdle Knockout had asked him to. ‘I love you’ echoed in his mind and quietly slipped past his lips as the rest of his processor was still occupied. He still didn’t have much energy, but those meetings needed to continue. I promised I would contact Ultra Magnus… Megatron sighed, plopping the cube down on his chest as his optics slowly closed. Perhaps just a few more minutes of rest before he had to get up and face his responsibilities…

To his slight irritation, Shockwave messaged him just as he was drifting off. He opened the comm and his spark jumped.

‘I have been contacted by Thraxian traders interested in selling us fuel. It appears they may have stumbled upon a previously unknown vein of energon on a desolate little moon, and have no use for it.’

Fuel. Energon! Megatron sat up, ignoring his dizziness, sending a prompt reply. ‘Give them whatever they want, but do not let on how much we need it. We can not have them going to the Autobots instead.’

‘They would like to conduct the transaction in-person, my Liege. They insist upon your presence as well.’

That sounded suspicious, but Megatron was desperate to acquire fuel in any capacity. ‘Send them our coordinates. I will prepare for their arrival.’

‘They stated they do not wish to come so close to Autobot space for reasons they chose not to disclose, despite my insistence. They requested that we meet at a trading post in neutral territory. I will send the location posthaste.’

This really sounded suspicious now, but he couldn’t squander this opportunity. ‘Assemble a small team. We will take a shuttle.’

‘It would be my pleasure, Lord Megatron.’

Megatron rubbed his face and flopped back down. He wanted to have some hope that this was legitimate, but asking to meet the leader of a powerful faction for a simple trade rubbed him the wrong way. He’d just have to be extra careful. Megatron’s thoughts swirled as he did the same to the remainder of his drink. As reluctant as he was to go or to even leave his room…maybe this was a chance to see Optimus again! The thought filled him with a tiny burst of energy and he finished off his drink in one gulp. Standing up, he stretched and almost immediately noticed how disgusting he looked in the mirror. He couldn’t present himself like this to his prospective trade partners, it was unbecoming! …Optimus didn’t need to see him like this again either. Thus began the hours-long process of getting cleaned up and washing away his shame.

~~~~~~

Optimus awoke late in the morning to a strong knock on his closet door. It wasn’t an aggressive knock, but certainly from a larger bot. A little worried and confused, he got up to answer it, only to be greeted by a surprisingly not angry Megatron kneeling in the hall first thing in the morning. Well, I’m dead.

“We’re leaving.” Megatron didn’t even wait for a response before resuming his trek.

“Wait, what? Leaving? What do you mean?”

He halted, turning back to the Autobot. “You wanted to travel? This is your chance.”

While not really an answer, it was at least something. Optimus grabbed what few belongings he had from the room and jogged to catch up; he didn’t trust his valuables to be left alone for a ‘travel’ length of time. “So, explain this to me?”

“We are going to a trading post to conduct some business.”

“Oh.” Megatron was being short, but at least didn’t sound angry. It was nice, but very unlike him. Maybe he wasn’t feeling well, like Knockout had said, but then wouldn’t he just be more mean? He looked better too, but Optimus could still tell he wasn’t at his best. “...I’m glad to see you’re doing well today.”

Primus, he’s being nice again! Megatron barely kept himself together. His spark nearly punched through his chest, and he was certain Optimus would’ve seen his cheeks get rosy had the Autobot been any taller. “...Thank you. …Your concern is appreciated.”

Why’s he being so nice today? Optimus was still surprised by his recent change in behavior, but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a welcome one. The corners of his mouth curled up, and his spark beat just a little faster as the two continued their walk to the cargo bay in silence.

Upon reaching their destination, the only other bots Optimus recognized inside the shuttle were Blitzwing, Breakdown, and Knockout. His spark sank at the sight, but felt decently certain that he’d be safe, given how he was technically a diplomat. At least Knockout had never tried to kill him, at least not until now. Optimus couldn’t help noticing just how intently the red medic was staring at him. It was similar to how it had been in the medbay the previous day, and it still felt so strange. Trying to pay it no mind, he literally climbed into the last empty seat, which just so happened to be right next to Megatron.

This is the closest he has ever sat to me. Megatron’s spark was pounding, thankfully drowned out by the sound of the engines starting. The tension in his frame was very poorly masked, but Primus be damned if he wasn’t trying. His smile was almost as shoddily hidden by his typical scowl, threatening with every second to break through. But, Megatron remained steadfast. He absolutely could not slip up in front of this many of his subordinates under any circumstances.

Optimus was equally as tense, but for very different reasons. Why did these have to be the only open seats? He’s so tense, he definitely wants to kill me. …Oh Primus, that's why he wanted me to come, isn’t it? So he could off me with no witnesses and call it an accident! …Would he do that though? He doesn’t really seem angry. His nerves weren’t helped by the constant glances made in his direction by literally everyone else on the shuttle, or their whispers that eluded his hearing. He tried to ignore it as best as he could, accepting that this would be a long trip.

~~~~~~

A short week had passed since the last book club therapy session, much to Sentinel’s irritation and dread. He was having his regrets about accepting this assignment, both because of the bots in the group, and because of how Ultra Magnus behaved when Sentinel was in his presence, as if he were some disgusting stain on a sewer grate. Sentinel’s grueling street-cleaning shift was nearing its end, and for once he wished it wasn’t.

“Hey Sentinel, we should walk together!” Smokescreen had been even more annoying this past week.

“No.” He did his best to ignore the smaller bot, stabbing a can on the ground.

“Aww c’moooon, we’re going to the same place! Pretty please?”

“Will it get you to shut up if I say yes?!”

“Yes.”

“Then yeah, fine, we’ll slaggin’ go together. God, you’re irritating.” Sentinel mumbled as he finished out his shift, sickened by the joyful aura of the ninja bot.

Throwing his bag in the dumpster a few minutes later, he was finally free, if only for a little while. Looking around, he didn’t see Smokescreen, internally celebrating. Maybe he could slip away and have some peace! He made it out of the ditch in higher spirits, but those were immediately extinguished upon seeing Smokescreen waiting on the sidewalk. “Hey buddy, you ready for a productive night?”

“Don’t talk to me.” Sentinel growled, walking straight past him and transformed, speeding down the road.

Smokescreen caught up in seconds, a silent happiness emanating from him the entire trip there.

The apartment complex was just as disgusting as last time, as if there would’ve been any positive change. Sentinel glumly shuffled in and flopped down in his junk pile of a chair, rolling his optics as Smokescreen joined next to him.

“Looks like everyone’s here again! I’m pleased to see you all tonight.” Deadlock spoke as peacefully as ever, the smoothness grating on Sentinel with every word. “Now then, let’s begin as usual. How was everyone this week?”

“Ooh ooh me first!” Hot Rod's hand shot up as he nearly fell out of his chair.

“The floor is yours, my friend.”

“Ok ok, so I ran into Sergeant Kup a few days ago on my way to training. And I mean I literally ran into him, I caused a three car pileup in the middle of the road. Everyone was fine, but that’s beside the point. Anyway, he chewed me out for half an hour but finally let me go, and training went off without a hitch. This one kid, Sunstreaker, he’s got promise. Funny, skilled, way too smart, got a bit of a mouth on him. He’s like, my favorite type to train. …Anyway, it’s been a good week.”

“That’s quite the story, Hot Rod! I certainly hope there’s no hard feelings between you and the Sergeant?”

“Naahh, we’re good. I’m lucky Kup’s so forgiving, even when it’s clearly my fault. …I felt bad so I paid for his repairs.”

“Well, that certainly was kind of you, Hot Rod.”

“Hehe…yeah…” The red bot’s demeanor changed; his frame slumped, and his face fell as he started fidgeting. “...I…I keep causing problems, but…I just can’t stop speeding. I-It gives me a rush, y’know? The speed and the wind, it just feels so good, man, I just…” He tensed, tearing up.

Deadlock placed a hand on his friend’s back, rugging gentle circles. “It’s ok. There’s no judgment here, Hot Rod.”

Speak for yourself. Sentinel rolled his optics.

“Nah, I…I kinda get how you feel.” Bluestreak didn’t look up from the floor, his voice almost a mumble. “I…I stole a lot… Don’t really know why I did it. To survive, I guess, but the thrill of breaking the law gave me a high too. I guess, for me, it was sort of a way to ignore how shitty life was. It was a good distraction, but that’s all it was by the end; a distraction. I-I’m not saying it’s the same for you, I d-don’t mean to insinuate that, but…we’re here for you.”

Hot Rod sighed, bringing his knees up under his chin. “I’ve always been like this. I’ve always liked racing and tempting fate, but…but I think it’s gotten worse since I left the hospital.”

Sentinel didn’t particularly care, but found himself listening anyway. It was a better way to spend his time than to be stuck in his own mind.

“I was with my team, defending a space bridge from attacking Decepticons. One of em…one of em infected me with cosmic rust. I-It was instant; my body froze, my joints locked up, I felt like I was burning on the inside. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t even scream, I was certain I was gonna die… But, before I knew it, I woke up in the hospital, completely fine. I…didn’t really know what to think. I was alive, yeah, but I’d already accepted my fate, I was so sure of it! It was the most terrifying experience of my life, I-I just…” He took a deep vent out, hiding his face. “...Speeding makes me feel alive, makes me forget my fear, if only for a minute… It’s not good, I know, but…not much I can do about it.”

“It takes a lot of courage to admit things this personal. Both of you.” Deadlock was back to rubbing Hot Rod’s back, looking between him and Bluestreak. “A good way to cope can be hard to find, but admitting things out loud is an excellent first step towards healing.”

Sentinel refused to believe a word of this was real. As unconvinced as he was, he almost found himself feeling kind of bad for Hot Rod. Geez, that’s a lot- No, no, these guys are just really good actors. At this rate, it’s gonna be months, maybe years before I can get anywhere with this! Although now, there was a little voice in the back of his mind, fighting his assumptions. Hot Rod’s story echoed in his processor, the sadness present in his body and tone attached to it. This strange new sensation made Sentinel uncomfortable. Of course he didn’t feel bad for this Decepticon sympathizer, no matter how good his lies were! …Were they lies? Sentinel grumbled, retreating into himself for the remainder of the meeting. Maybe it was better to spend the time stuck in his own mind; at least that way, he could avoid any more outside discomfort creeping in. At least he knew what was in there. Aside from, of course, that fresh gnawing in his brain and the tiny knot in his chest.

~~~~~~

The trip to the trading post was supposed to take all day, with the group arriving in the evening. Only halfway through the flight, Optimus already wanted to leave and was regretting his spur of the moment decision to accept Megatron’s invitation. He’d barely moved since the flight began, his joints nearly locked in place. He mostly just stared at the floor, trying to avoid the prying eyes of the present company, but he could feel every glance flitting over his frame. Megatron hadn’t moved or spoken either, only adding to Prime’s nerves.

Megatron was, in fact, still processing the fact that Optimus was so close to him. Of all the bots on the ship, he was the only one who hadn’t been constantly glancing at Optimus, not wanting to stir any potential rumors or give himself away like that. He’d managed to loosen up a little, sitting back and crossing his arms, but wasn’t otherwise faring much better. He could sense the Autobot was uncomfortable, but what was he to do?

As the two bots sat in awkward silence, deliberating, Optimus received a comm request from Megatron. His optics widened in surprise, certain he’d seen wrong, but no, it really was a message from the terrifying giant next to him. Cautiously, he accepted and opened the message.

‘We are passing one of those stars I told you about.’

He remembered… Curious, Optimus craned his neck to look out a porthole on the opposite wall, but was too short to see.

‘Behind you.’

Optimus wasn’t sure he wanted to move.

‘Stand up.’

He didn’t like how short Megatron was being with him, but didn’t feel like incurring his wrath in such a confined space. Reluctantly, he did as he was told, ignoring the creaking in his stiff joints as he placed his hands on the windowsill. His spark jumped as the star came into view; the bright orange orb slowly pulsed with light, a hazy corona floating around it as the surface swirled with countless shades of orange, red, and yellow. As blinding as it was, he couldn’t look away, his optics only growing wider with each passing moment. ‘You have to look at this, it’s incredible!’ He was so enraptured by the sight, he didn’t notice Megatron glancing over until he looked at the Decepticon, an excited grin on his face.

Megatron was having an absurdly difficult time wearing his scowl. Seeing Optimus this excited, it physically hurt to keep it up, but there was no way he was letting it slip. The gossip would be endless! He looked away from the excited little bot, his facade cracking just enough for a corner of his mouth to curl up for a half-second. ‘Take your time, I have already seen it.’

Optimus felt his cheeks warm slightly, glancing away himself. His spark raced. Why did he feel so strange all of a sudden? No matter. Megatron was stubborn, and Optimus was now determined to out-match him. Taking a page from the Bumblebee Playbook, he faked a pout and leaned his hands on his chin, pretending to ignore Megatron. ‘Well maybe, you need to see it again.’

‘And why is that?’

‘Because I said so.’

Megatron rubbed his mouth, hiding a smile. He couldn’t say no to Prime’s stubbornness, he found it far too attractive and endearing, by his own reluctant admission. Finally getting his face under control, he shifted onto one knee, letting Optimus sit back down before taking his turn. Yes, he’d seen the star before, and it really was nothing remarkable, but it felt different this time. Now, it was a memory he shared with his one and only favorite Autobot.

After a few minutes of musing, he sat back down, perhaps just a little closer to Optimus. The looks and murmurs from the other passengers seemed to have escalated, but a stern look from Megatron got them all interested in looking at literally anything else. The both of them felt significantly better and more relaxed, taking comfort in the other’s company.

Chapter Text

The Decepticon shuttle docked at the trading post, to everyone’s relief; the passenger area was quite cramped, and everyone wanted to stretch their legs. Upon disembarking, Megatron hung back, on a call with Shockwave, as everyone else milled about outside as they waited for the traders to arrive. Optimus was among them, having difficulty seeing anything through the forest of giants. Judging by how dirty the ground was, this post was probably as nasty as Megatron had described the others he’d been to, but he still wanted to see! It was a wholly new experience for him. Weaving through a few pairs of legs, he made it to the edge of the group. The trading post itself was on an asteroid and enclosed by a climate-controlled dome, allowing for organics to take leave here as well. The port was relatively dingy, with a few abandoned crates lying around near dark warehouses. The area itself was decently busy, with nearly every dock occupied by some sort of ship representing countless species from around the galaxy. Nobody from those ships seemed to stay in the port, though, as they all streamed towards the somewhat more well-lit center area. Optimus couldn’t see very far in, but there appeared to be various buildings and stalls on the street. Needless to say, his interest was piqued. Just as he was about to join the crowds of strangers, though, Blitzwing whistled loudly to grab the crew’s attention.

“Listen here, insects! Zhe ship zhat is docking behind jou vill unload zhe shipment onto zhe dock. After a thorough count is reported to Lord Megatron, jou vill load it onto our ship! Zhen, und only zhen, vill jou be allowed shore leave!” Blitzwing’s face was somehow more red by the time he was done yelling. “Jou! Autobot!”

Prime’s finials perked up, suddenly aware of everyone watching him.

“Jou vill be counting!” Just as he jabbed a finger at Optimus, Blitzwing’s face spun around. “We have a pretty little notepad for jouuuu!” Random grinned and held out a small datapad, dangling it like a dog treat, much to Prime’s embarrassment.

Seeing how big the crates being unloaded were, he grumbled but accepted his task; counting was better than more public humiliation over not being able to lift one of those. He took the pad and scooted a couple of steps away from Blitzwing and Megatron, who watched the unloading process like hawks. Once it concluded, the two Decepticons went over to inspect their fuel, and Optimus followed close behind, taking notes of everything they said: counts, measurements, weight, everything down to the color. Going through it all was boring, tedious work, taking up a good three hours, but once it was over, Optimus could finally sit down and watch the others load it all into their shuttle.

Megatron was surprised but thankful that it had been a productive trip. The counts matched the promised amount, and nobody had been killed under suspicious circumstances for once. It put Megatron in a good enough mood to briefly converse with the Thraxian captain.

“Should you find any more energon, my Generals and I would take great pleasure in doing further business with you.”

“Yess, of coursse. We would be more than happy to ssell to ssuch essteemed clientss.” The reptilian captain hissed, thrumming his claws against each other.

“You have contact with my second-in-command. We will be certain to respond to any offers posthaste.” He gave the Thraxian a polite nod.

“I look forward to it.” Smirking, the Thraxian captain slunk back to his ship and slowly pulled out of port, with Megatron closely watching. Unknown to the Thraxians and Cybertronians alike, Megatron was already writing a message to Shockwave. ‘Have their ship tracked and followed. I want you to send our own mercenaries after them, find their cache, and take care of them. Make it look like a rogue operation.’

‘It will be done, my Liege.’

Megatron had the utmost faith in Shockwave to carry out his orders to perfection. Taking a deep vent in and out, he returned to the ship just moments after the crates had finished being strapped down in the cargo space. He could tell everyone was itching to get to that free time, but one thing did trouble him. “Shore leave is four hours. You are all to be back on the ship promptly, or you will be left. Two of you will be staying to guard the ship-”

He couldn’t even finish his sentence before Knockout’s hand shot up from his perch atop his conjunx’s shoulder. “Breakdown and I will stay! The ship is far cleaner than this sad little rock.” He glanced slyly at his partner, making the bigger bot blush.

Megatron gave them a Tired look but allowed them to stay, waving them back inside the ship and dismissing the others, who immediately sped off in various directions. Megatron was alone again. Well, almost alone. Optimus had stood up to stretch, delaying his departure, but even once he was done, he didn’t seem eager to leave. Megatron glanced around and bit his cheek, unsure of what to do. “...Would you care to join me?”

“You gonna show me around?” He cocked a hip, hands behind his head.

“If that is what you wish, then yes.”

Optimus twisted a little to better face Megatron, smiling at him. “I’d like that. I wanna see if this place is really as horrible as you say it is.”

Megatron clenched his jaw, his spark trying its damndest to jump out through his mouth. He cleared his throat and furrowed his brow, hoping it hid how he was feeling. “Oh, it is. You will find out soon enough.” He started walking, with Optimus following close at his heels.

~~~~~~

The lights grew brighter as the pair moved further from the docks, but the roads didn’t get any nicer. If anything, they became more cracked and dusty from the increased foot traffic. Small niches and corners spilled trash and debris out into the pathways, interrupted by several very sketchy sales booths selling random knick-knacks and probably illegal imports. The street was decently busy with bots and organics alike, seeming to get along fine enough. It was far from pretty, but Optimus was still fascinated. He picked up his pace, immediately drawn to a cart selling some strange rocks, but Megatron held him back. ‘Be very, very careful. These are not the most upstanding individuals in the galaxy. …And yes, I can sense you already formulating a snide remark about me, but I am serious. Ultra Magnus will have my head if you incur so much as a scratch here.’

The message made sense, but strangely, it hurt Optimus to hear his safety only mattered to Megatron in the context of Ultra Magnus. ‘You lead then.’

Megatron sensed he’d said something wrong but didn’t know what. Did Optimus think Megatron didn’t believe he could handle himself in a hairy situation? Feeling a little bad, he removed his hand from in front of the Autobot and led him to the rock stall. At it were indeed various alien rocks and minerals, most of which were unknown to Optimus. His sour mood immediately evaporated, replaced with excitement as he examined each and every one. Thankfully, the stall owner didn’t seem to mind him touching and prodding his wares.

“I see ya noticed that there Pharxian hydrocrystal there. Pretty, ain’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s beautiful! I didn’t know these were real; I’ve only ever read about them. How’d you get something so rare?”

“Well, that’s quite a story actually. Y’see, I was in the-”

“Pharxian hydrocrystals are as common as gravel.” Megatron crouched down, glaring at the merchant. “Try as you might, you could never hope to lie better than a Decepticon. Two credits is the most I would offer for this pebble.”

The merchant backpedaled, immediately regretting his decision. “O-Oh, of course! I-I didn’t realize these were so common. I’d simply found it one day and I’d never seen anything like it before and two credits is fine please don’t hurt me!”

With a smug grin, Megatron tossed a small coin across the counter and headed down the road, with Optimus jogging to catch up once he’d recovered from his surprise. Once he was a few feet in front of the Decepticon, he stopped and held out the crystal. “You forgot this.”

“It’s not mine.”

“What, did you buy it for me then?”

Megatron lifted an eyebrow.

Oh, sweet Primus, he bought it for me. …WHY?! What does he want from me?! Cheeks warm and very confused, he subspaced the shiny rock. “...Thank you.”

Megatron didn’t respond, resuming his pace to prevent Optimus from seeing his increasingly more flustered face. “Let this be a lesson, Autobot. Most people you meet will not have your best interest in mind.”

Optimus rolled his optics. Yeah, I learned that pretty quick once I met you. There’s no way all this ‘nice’ stuff he’s doing isn’t a trick. But then, why tell me about trustworthiness?

The two walked in awkward silence again until Optimus happened to spot an organic alien sitting amidst mountains of books and datapads of every kind imaginable. His optics lit up, and he made a beeline for it, ignoring Megatron’s earlier warning. Looking through the unorganized stacks, most of the literature was in languages unfamiliar to him, but a few were in Cybertronian, and a couple were even in English. He was baffled as to how Earth books had made their way this far but figured it probably had something to do with those aliens that liked to abduct cows in movies.

Megatron stood back, watching as the smaller bot dug through the dusty tomes with such excitement. He could barely contain his smile, but by Primus, he sure did try. He found himself once again silently admiring Prime’s frame, his face, and his energy. He wasn’t as uncomfortable with those thoughts as he was just a couple days ago, but still had to stop himself short with the more intimate ones. Those did still make him rather anxious. The longer he watched Optimus, the more he relaxed, arms crossed, leaning to one side, head tilted. Prime’s enthusiasm was too infectious, and Megatron soon found himself kneeling and flipping through books with him. He didn’t even realize what he was doing for a few minutes but didn’t mind once he did. It was nice to be this close to Optimus again.

Optimus didn’t mind Megatron’s proximity either. In fact, he was enjoying it too. It was nice to have someone share his interests, even if it was this particular bot. Optimus didn’t really notice, but he’d been slowly working his way closer to the Decepticon as they perused until the two were looking through the same stack. He didn’t realize how close they were until he bumped into Megatron, immediately taking a couple of steps back. “Sorry, I uh...wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s fine.” It was, in fact, not fine. Megatron was internally screaming from even that slight amount of physical contact. His spark raced, thankfully masked by the noise of the street, but the blush on his cheeks didn’t go unnoticed this time.

Optimus immediately turned away, flustered and blushing. His own spark beat faster, wondering why Megatron had looked like that and why he was feeling so strange. What was going on with him? Maybe he was catching whatever illness Megatron was recovering from, the one Knockout had mentioned. He tried to ignore it and kept looking through the books, not wanting sickness to detract from his small vacation.

An hour passed, and the pair had finally looked at every single book, each having picked out a few. Searching for the owner took another few minutes, but he was found asleep in a chair behind all the mountains of stories. Optimus was surprised the guy could sleep through all the noise but tried to stir him. “Hello? Helloo?”

The slug-like alien snorted and twitched but didn’t wake.

Optimus tried waving his hand close to the shopkeeper and even tried poking him, but he was too deep in his dreams. Optimus wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t want to just leave without paying, but he really wanted these books. Brow furrowed with uncertainty, he looked back at Megatron, his face quickly turning to mild disapproval as he caught the Decepticon midway through subspacing his finds. Megatron just shrugged and finished putting them away.

Optimus sighed and rolled his optics, but subspaced his own ‘purchases’ and tossed a few credits into the merchant’s lap before skittering away. Once he was no longer in sight of the stand, he stopped, snickering and giggling. “That’s the closest to something illegal I’ve done in a while!”

“What about that was illegal?”

“Well, these books probably are. Plus, I probably didn’t pay the proper amount for them. But it’s not my fault, the guy wouldn’t wake up! You saw it.”

You are too precious for this world. “Remember where you are, Autobot. Paying too little is the least of your worries.”

“Ok, if you’re sure…” Optimus wasn’t sure if he should be taking legal advice from a Decepticon but tried to shrug it off.

“I am quite certain. Now, let’s continue.” Megatron resumed his walk at a slower pace, wanting to spend as much time with Optimus as he could. Even walking in silence was nice. Glancing down, he took much joy in watching the little bot looking around, optics bright and full of curiosity. Megatron chanced a quick smile, scrubbing it the second Optimus even slightly turned his head in his direction. He was still surprised at just how much better he felt, considering how he was just a couple of days ago, but he certainly wasn’t upset about it. Knockout deserved a thank you later. A bit lost in thought, Megatron didn’t notice how close he and Optimus had drifted again until his hand brushed Prime’s shoulder. Immediately scooting to the side, Megatron had to look away to hide his face again.

Why does he keep looking away? I swear I didn’t do anything this time! It was a bit concerning to Optimus, but he, too, looked away after the brush. His cheeks felt warm and his spark raced, not sure why he was so flustered by such a simple thing. After all, it was an accident, those kinds of things happen all the time, so why was it affecting him so much? Thankfully, another booth caught his attention, sufficiently distracting him from his own thoughts. This one appeared to sell some kind of organic powders and liquids; they were of no use to Optimus, but they were interesting, at least. There were flasks and tubes full of bubbling liquids, their fumes wafting out in colorful smoke trails. Pleasant scents mixed with the more putrid ones, requiring him to suppress his nasal receptors, and countless shades of countless colors swirled around before his eyes, prompting him to lean as close as he could to the jars for a better look. Everything was so visually enticing he failed to notice some escaped alien creature bounding down the road, launching itself at the table in a panic.

The monkey-like animal sped across, knocking over the vials in a split second before vanishing down a little alley. The shopkeeper, a giant, lumbering, fleshy blue blob, took more than a few seconds to turn around to assess the carnage, his tentacled face falling into a scowl. “You break, you buy.” His voice was creaky and squelched as he tried to speak.

“I’m sorry, sir, there’s been a misunderstanding! An animal ran through and knocked it all over.” Optimus raised his hands a bit, already panicking.

“I see no animal, you only. You break, you buy!” His speech grew more stern and loud as he slapped a chunky appendage on the destroyed counter, splattering a mix of liquid and powder everywhere.

“Sir, I assure you, I-”

“YOU BREAK, YOU BUY!”

“I suggest you lower your voice, merchant, else you chance another accident.” Megatron glared down at him, flashing his cannon.

The merchant seemed to back down, glaring back as Megatron guided Optimus away.

“Thanks for that… I don’t think I would’ve gotten out of there on my own.”

“Of course you would not have. I do not doubt your skill, but nobody here plays fair.”

Optimus was somehow both offended and flattered, trying to parse it all out as they continued walking. At that moment, a blaster shot rang out, hitting Megatron in the back. In a second, the Decepticon had twisted around and fired a cannon blast back at the merchant, only to be greeted by a volley of gunfire as the rest of the street broke out in a firefight. Sliding in front of Optimus, Megatron scooped him up, jetting into the sky and far away.

Optimus had panicked upon realizing he didn’t have his axe with him, but the cold rush of air past his audials brought him back. His optics darted around and his panic returned, realizing just how high he was above the ground. He hated to think what would happen if he fell from this height. Shutting his optics didn’t help much, but there was something reassuring about the way Megatron held him.

Only seconds into the flight, they were already descending, landing hard in a wet, dirty alley, just barely wide enough for Megatron to fit in. Leaning back against the wall, he slid down to the ground with his knees up, Optimus now securely in his lap. “Are you injured?”

“No.” It was so strange. Sitting like this was so comfortable, almost like being in a snug, warm nest, except it was built out of his worst enemy. Despite that, it felt safe. It felt nice. It felt right. He stared up at Megatron’s face, hyper-aware of every little detail. His face wasn’t in its usual scowl, having softened significantly to something he would’ve called ‘worry’ had it been on anyone else. The Decepticon’s optics were wide and bright, their light faintly illuminating every line and scratch on his face, of which there were many. Optimus dared to admit to himself the indications of his age were appealing from a certain objective perspective. His cheeks are just red from the reflection of his optics… He felt his spark beat faster again, his entire frame warming. Now panicking at what all that was about, he wiggled out of his warm little cave. “But you are.” Turning on his shoulder lights, he began searching for any damage to Megatron’s frame, both as a distraction and out of some genuine concern for whatever reason.

Megatron let Optimus conduct his little examination, mourning the loss of the smaller bot in his lap and what may have been the best five seconds of his night. He jolted as Optimus finally touched his frame, right on a sore spot where he’d been hit. “Rest assured, I have experienced far worse. My plating is not so thin as to be damaged by a weak blaster.”

“Still, it’s a little dented. Have it looked at when we get back.” Satisfied and spark racing, Optimus slid down the wall to join Megatron, a sigh escaping as he hit the ground. After a few seconds, he calmed down a little and looked up, a soft smile gracing his faceplate. “...Thanks for saving me again.”

PRIMUS he’s looking at me again like that! Megatron swallowed, failing to hide behind a scowl. “I… You’re welcome.” He didn’t want to look away, but he had to, pulling his knees closer.

The wall and ground were so cold, pulling out what warmth Prime’s smaller frame produced. It didn’t help that he was sitting in a puddle of Primus knows what. Even a good distance away, he could feel the heat radiating off Megatron. Recalling the comfort of his lap was weird and uncomfortable and made his spark do backflips, but it had just been so nice… Swallowing his fear and pride, he scooted, inch by inch, closer to Megatron until he was sufficiently warm, which ended up being extremely close, only a few feet.

WHAT DO I DO?! Megatron was tense and panicking, scared to make a wrong move. Should he stay still? Wrap an arm around Optimus? Pull him back onto his lap?!

“It might sound strange, but this has actually been a really nice trip. Thanks for showing me around and getting me off the Revenge for a bit.”

“Even after almost being swindled and shot at, you spin a positive out of this?” Megatron had to admit he admired Prime’s ability to do that.

“The more I let it settle in…yeah. Yeah, I’m glad it happened. It was a new experience I’m glad I had… One I’m glad to have been guided through by someone so knowledgeable about crime.” He grinned, playfully elbowing Megatron.

That was it; he couldn’t hide anymore. Megatron’s fragile mask was pulverized by that nudge as a wide smile quickly overtook it, accompanied by a bright laugh from deep in his chest. It felt amazing, cathartic, like another massive weight was being lifted off him. He hadn’t felt like this in ages, if he ever had.

Optimus pulled back at first, startled at Megatron’s outburst, but soon found himself relaxing and joining in on the laughter. It was nice to just let loose like that. It didn’t even feel strange to be doing so with him anymore. It felt as natural as Megatron sounded right now. Optimus couldn’t help stealing a few more glances, admiring his savior. Megatron’s voice rang clear, striking Optimus as the most genuine, unfiltered emotion he’d seen from him, matched only by his current smile. It reached to his optics, their soft glow highlighting the finer creases that smile created in their corners. It was Prime’s turn to stare as Megatron had so many times, his spark beating harder in his chest, begging him to reach for the mech next to him…but he denied it. They were work acquaintances, if even that. Never mind their frequent, intimate talks that stretched into the silence of the midnight hour or their interactions outside of that, it would be unheard of for them to even be friends. It’s not something Optimus would ever allow himself, given their history with each other, despite what his spark was begging for: someone who understood him, who potentially saw him as something of an equal. Nonetheless, it felt nice to lean on Megatron as the two started to wind down and catch their breath.

Pure serotonin was pumping through Megatron’s lines, so effective, in fact, that he didn’t move away when Optimus laid his head against him. If anything, it just made him happier. He wasn’t sure why the Autobot was doing it, but he’d take it. Calming down, he, too, leaned in just a couple of inches, not wanting to scare Optimus away. “Prime..?”

“Looks like I need to remind you of my name a few more times, huh?”

“Oh, I recall your name plenty well.”

“Then why don’t you say it?”

“Perhaps later…Autobot.”

“Rude.” Optimus chuckled. He couldn’t be upset right now, even if he’d wanted to be.

Minutes fluttered by as if seconds, far too short for the liking of either bot as they sat together, listening to the sounds of street traffic. It was almost perfect.

Noticing the time, Megatron reluctantly broke their silence. “...Would you like to see the area from above?”

“Above? Like, flying?”

“Mmhm.”

Optimus had to admit he was curious, but flying made him uneasy. “I dunno…”

“I won’t drop you if that is your concern.”

“...You promise?”

“You have my word.”

Megatron’s ‘word’ wasn’t typically to be trusted, but he sounded sincere, and after tonight especially, Optimus was inclined to believe it. “...Alright.”

Getting to his knees, Megatron helped him up and promptly lifted him into a secure cradle hold. Despite Prime’s answer, he could sense his reluctance. “Close your optics if it helps.”

Optimus did just that, trying not to imagine his surroundings as he felt them leave the ground, the night wind flowing over his frame. He was far from cold, being so close to Megatron’s frame, but his fear of being so high made him shiver. At least it was a short ride, and their movement came to a halt almost as soon as it had started.

“You can look now.” Megatron’s voice was soft and carried an air of contentment, his hold on Optimus still snug.

Cautiously, he cracked one optic open, then the other. Slowly, things came into focus. A brief wave of terror washed over Optimus as he looked down but was quickly replaced as he looked out towards the horizon. In every direction stretched a dark labyrinth of streets and buildings, its shape only hinted at by the faint light glowing from shops and occasional streetlights. It looked like an ocean of stars, as if mimicking the vast expanse above the dome that was being drowned out by those same lights. Optimus stared in awe as he clung to Megatron’s frame, his optics wide. “It’s beautiful… And you said trading posts were filthy cesspools with nothing of value.”

“Perhaps from a certain perspective, anything can have value.”

Optimus glanced up at Megatron, his wonder not even slightly decreased. He simply settled back in his arms and stared up at Megatron’s chiseled face, his flaming optics, and the soft smile that had made its home in them. Beautiful… Resting his helm on the Decepticon’s chest, he tried to tear away from staring but couldn’t. Optimus contented himself with sharing his attention between Megatron and the vast ocean of life beneath them.

~~~~~~

The pair weren’t the last to return to the shuttle, but despite that, they chose to sit next to each other for the entire flight. Both were filthy from their adventure, but that was hardly a deterrent for Optimus to lean on Megatron again. He was exhausted but happy, smiling softly as he drifted into recharge, entirely ignoring the increasingly more obvious whispers and looks from the others. Megatron paid them no mind either, shamelessly wearing his own smile and enjoying every remaining moment he and the Autobot shared.

In the early hours of the morning, the shuttle finally docked back in the Revenge, and as it was being unloaded, Megatron took it upon himself to carry Optimus back to his quarters, once again ignoring the obvious stares of his crew. They were alone in the dark halls, the only sound being from Megatron’s intentionally quiet footsteps. Kneeling before the closet, he took one final look at the sleeping Prime’s face, gently rubbing a smudge of dirt off his cheek. “Goodnight…Optimus.”

“So you do remember…” He stirred, his voice barely a whisper, as he fell right back asleep.

It didn’t even bother Megatron that Optimus had heard him. All it did was widen his smile as he gently laid his companion on the little recharge slab and quietly shut the door.

Back in his own room, Megatron closed the door and leaned back on it, breathing a heavy sigh. Tonight had been amazing, practically everything he could’ve wanted. So much of his fear was gone, it almost didn’t feel real. If it was a dream, he didn’t want to wake up. His spark danced in his chest, for once not anxious or afraid. He placed a hand over it, feeling its steady pulse as his smile grew, confirming this as reality. He breathed a sigh of relief, closing his optics.

“I love you…Optimus Prime.”

Chapter Text

The cafeteria was abuzz that morning with eager chatter. The dark cloud of Megatron’s mood had lifted after he’d returned from the trade trip, much to everyone’s relief. Bumblebee sat at a table with Tailwind, sipping his drink and oblivious as ever but just as happy for the mysterious return of the more pleasant atmosphere. “Dang, the mood shifted overnight! What happened?”

Tailwind rubbed circles on his forehead, genuinely confused at how Bumblebee had managed to avoid any mention of the events. “You…how’ve you not heard? It’s literally the only thing anyone’s talking about!”

“Really? I guess it’s hard to pick out one conversation to focus on in here. …So…what happened?”

“Well, uhm… Ok, you didn’t hear it from me, but,” Tailwind leaned in close, “word is, Megatron’s in a good mood cus he and that friend of yours…oh, what’s his name…Optimus? Yeah, him and Megatron are uh…” He hooked his pointer fingers together in a sort of mimicry of a chain.

Bumblebee squinted, thumbing at his chin in confusion. It took him a few good seconds to get the gist, but once he did, his optics went as wide as a full moon.

“Yeah, they went on some trip to pick up fuel or somethin’. Apparently, things happened while they were gone.”

Mouth agape, Bumblebee was too stunned to respond.

“...You ok, man?”

The yellow bot did not respond.

“Hellooo? Cybertron to Bumblebee?” Tailwind tried waving a hand in front of the Autobot’s face.

Bumblebee’s optic twitched, a small squeak escaping his mouth. “They…they what?! Oh sweet Primus, what does this mean?!”

“Yeah, it’s uh…it’s quite the hot topic right now. But hey, at least the mood’s better around here now!”

Bumblebee stared at the table in confusion. Megatron…and Boss Bot?! Nah, there’s no way, he’d never! Ok, ok, maybe it’s just a rumor. Decepticons like lying, after all. After a few minutes, he shook off his funk. “Eh, I’m sure it’s nothing, probably just a rumor. At most, they’re just passively fighting like me and Blitzwing! Speaking of which, where is he? I haven’t seen him in a couple days.”

“...You know he went on that trip too, right?”

“Oh.” Bumblebee was a bit hurt that he hadn’t been told. Did Blitzwing not think it important enough to tell him he was leaving? He’d been bored for days! And maybe just a little worried; he’d be lonely without his favorite enemy! He huffed, leaning on the table and pouting.

As if on cue, the door to the mess hall slid open, and the Decepticon in question walked in, his demeanor as cold as ever. The chatter in the room grew silent, everyone in eager anticipation of more drama. Undeterred, Blitzwing walked straight up to Bumblebee and extended a small object in his hand. “My apologies for not alerting jou to my taking leave. It vas…sudden.”

Bumblebee turned away, pouting harder.

Rolling his optics, Blitzwing scooted in next to him, much to Tailwind’s increasing anxiety. He held the object out again, flashing it in the light, but was greeted with more pouting and scooting away. Giving it one more try, he wrapped his arm around in front of Bumblebee, practically sticking the shiny in his face.

The Shiny was so hard to resist, but by Primus, Bumblebee tried. He was having so much fun with this and wanted to continue, but decided to cave, not wanting to risk Blitzwing leaving. Still pouting, he plucked the item from Blitzwing’s hand, inspecting it. It was a magnet, clearly from a trashy gift shop, but appealing nonetheless. “...My mortal enemy went to Bortrin Trading Outpost and all I got was this stupid magnet.” He suddenly felt all warm and fuzzy inside. Sure, the two of them were in a bitter, passive-aggressive, petty fight (one that Bumblebee was certain he was on track to win), but this was a gift! From Blitzwing! A Decepticon! This was a historic event, and one he wouldn’t soon forget. A wide, goofy smile spread over his face, his cheeks warming as he pulled Blitzwing’s arm closer around him. As part of their little stalemate, of course. “Awwwwwww, thank you, Blitzy! I love it!”

“Jou’re velcome.” Blitzwing’s spark fluttered, but he didn’t react, not so much as looking down at the little bot.

Bumblebee beamed, fiddling with his gift, absolutely mesmerized by its shininess. His happiness with it was genuine, having briefly dropped his act, paying no mind to the dozens of optics now on his little table.

Tailwind very much noticed, slowly sliding down in his seat and too anxious to just leave. The entire room was staring directly at them; one of the highest-ranking Decepticons was sitting right there, and Bumblebee didn’t seem to be bothered in the slightest! What was his secret?! Tailwind felt the slightest twinge of envy over his nonchalance. His optics darted around as he sipped his drink. Choking on it, he coughed, trying to cover it up. “S-So, uh…how uh…how’re you two doing?”

Snapping out of his delighted stupor, Bumblebee immediately started his dramatics again, leaning into Blitzwing’s chest and placing a hand flat on it. “Oh, we’re doing great. We were actually just planning our next date!” He put extra emphasis on those words, making sure he spoke loud and clear enough for the nearly silent room to hear.

This was a mistake, I shoulda hid under the table when I had the chance. “O-Oh, uh…well, that’s good!” He chokes on his drink again. Primus, this is the most awkward and stressful situation I’ve ever been in.

Bumblebee remained blissfully unaware of everything, kicking his feet under the table. Keeping Blitzwing’s arm around him, he continued with his breakfast like nothing was off, only making a mental note to go see Optimus later.

Blitzwing, for his part, let Bumblebee go on as he pleased, not letting a speck of emotion show. Cute.

~~~~~~

Megatron sat alone on the bridge, swimming in his thoughts. The previous night and its preceding events were all still fresh in his mind, his smile having not once subsided. He was well aware of the rumors, and he wouldn’t dare hope they’d ever come true, as much as he wanted them to. He was strangely calm about the whole situation, but the longer he let it sit, the more doubts began to arise. He was happy, yes, but what if this became a problem? Would he lose his subordinates’ respect over this uncharacteristic display of softness? If it didn’t, would that softness being towards an Autobot change anything? What if other Autobots found out? The Council? What kind of ramifications could a rumor like this have on their stagnant peace talks and overall relations? For the first time, his smile wavered. It hurt to imagine, but he had to quash these rumors before they got out. He had to just get over it.

Grumbling, he rubbed his face. With his optics closed, he could vividly picture Prime’s features and practically hear his voice. His chest tightened and he clutched a hand over it, conflicted. He’d never experienced an emotional high quite like this before. It felt amazing, and he so badly didn’t want to give it up, but he was just one mech. One mech who was in charge of the well-being of thousands. His people needed him, depended on him to be a strong leader, and this would only get in the way of that; nobody would follow a sappy, bleeding-spark, old mech like him in this state. Besides, Optimus would never return his feelings…not after everything he’d done to the Autobot and his people. Of all the difficult thoughts, that one hurt the most. He wasn’t even angry over it, just a sense of hopelessness and sadness slowly pooling in his spark the more he dwelled on it.

Minutes passed, perhaps hours, as he sat alone in the silence and cold, fighting his joy and misery to the back of his processor and forcefully dragging his anger out of its hibernation. He couldn’t allow this little passing frivolity to bring down the persona he’d spent eons building up. Forcing a scowl, he slowly meandered over to the main console. He still had a job to do, after all, and a promise to keep.

After a few minutes of an annoying, droning ringtone, a familiar stoic visage made an appearance. “Ultra Magnus speaking. What seems to be the trouble, Megatron?”

Arms crossed and chest puffed out a bit, Megatron took a second to absorb the speaker’s appearance and masked condescending tone as fuel for his anger. “Always a pleasure, Ultra Magnus.” An obvious lie. “I had not heard from you in quite some time, I had begun to think you were abandoning our peace talks.”

“I see how the lapse in communication from me and the Council could have been interpreted as such. Rest assured, however, we have not abandoned our agreement. We have grown rather busy back on Cybertron with our rebuilding and reintegration efforts.”

Megatron thought he detected the slightest twitch in Ultra Magnus’ face at the mention of reintegrating Decepticons, bringing back a little drop of enjoyment. “A noble cause. Though, I must say, it is rather strange to be putting such an important treaty on the back burner, is it not?”

“I understand your apprehension, but I assure you, we are dedicated to seeing this through.”

Megatron scoffed. “If you’re as dedicated as you say you are, Ultra Magnus, you would be most willing to set aside time to look over our requests and alterations. I dare say you would even attend our meetings.”

The twitch was more noticeable, though not by much. “We are doing what we can to keep these proceedings as smooth and timely as possible. You must understand, however, that we have important business to attend to planetside.”

“Much of this ‘important business’ could be solved quite easily if we expedited this treaty.” Megatron took great pleasure in watching the subtle changes in his face. “As I said, if you were truly as ‘dedicated’ as you say you are, you would be making every effort to bring our treaty to a satisfactory conclusion for the sake of your people. Sending edits and requests back and forth is a tedious process. One that would be significantly less tedious if we were face to face.”

“What do you propose?” He knew exactly where this was going.

A little smirk curled the corner of Megatron’s lips. “That you and the Council attend our meetings. Over a video call, of course, but cutting out the time it takes to send edits, approve and change them, and send them back would make strides in this endeavor.”

Ultra Magnus remained silent. He knew Megatron would’ve asked this of him eventually, he’d just hoped he’d have a bit longer. The growing social unrest on Cybertron was certainly an issue and one he’d been hoping to twist a bit more to the Autobots’ advantage by prolonging these talks. But no matter; this was just as good of an opportunity. “Very well. I will discuss it with the Council.”

“There is nothing to discuss, Ultra Magnus. A simple ‘yes’ would suffice.”

“We will further discuss this at a later time.” Not waiting for a response, Ultra Magnus signed off uncharacteristically fast, leaving a surprised Megatron to stare at his faint reflection in the glass window, the darkness of the void creeping into his mind and body.

He is planning something. Megatron’s mind began to wander to every possible conclusion he could imagine. Whatever Ultra Magnus had in mind, it couldn’t be to Megatron’s benefit.

As the minutes passed in silence, the door to the bridge slid open, followed by the light clicking of Shockwave’s footsteps. Neither bot spoke for a time, letting the tension soak in.

“...Tell me, Shockwave… What does Ultra Magnus stand to gain from a failed treaty?”

“I suppose, a final end to the Decepticons and unhindered access to our territory and few remaining resources.”

Megatron nodded, his guess having been confirmed. “Keep a sharp optic on him and his, whether he decides to accept my request of attending our meetings or not.”

“It will be done, my Liege.” He bowed politely. “Rest assured, I will not let these rumors escalate either, nor will they leave this ship.”

Megatron’s spark jumped. How much did Shockwave know? Was Optimus part of Ultra Magnus’ plans? “Make certain of it. Any leak could severely jeopardize us.”

“Yes, my Liege.” Sensing Megatron’s discomfort, he opted to leave the report he’d brought on the command seat and left.

Alone again, Megatron buried his face in his hands, his frame slumping as he quietly cried.

~~~~~~

Shockwave had immediately headed to the cargo bay after his brief meeting with Megatron. He needed to take an inventory report, as well as check on the newest worker, who, to his surprise, was zooming around like a blue bolt of lightning and pushing around crates that should’ve been far too heavy for him. Shockwave wasn’t the only one watching in surprise; a good half of the other dock workers were standing around scratching their heads with nothing to do.

Shaking off his surprise, Shockwave watched as Blurr finally stopped his frantic racing to take a breather. His presence didn’t go unnoticed, with the blue bot shooting him a glare.

Shockwave’s spark thumped. Shaking it off, he went to find the dock manager, but that little flash of blue was burned into his processor. It was difficult to focus on talking about quantities, shipments, and stores even when Blurr wasn’t within his field of vision, but he managed to slog through it and exchange what was needed. Straightening his posture, Shockwave started to leave, his glowing beacon of an optic slowly panning around for Blurr. It didn’t take long to spot him sitting atop a crate, looking rather bored and irritated. Despite his better judgment, Shockwave headed over, obeying the pull in his chest.

“Ugh, waddyou want? I’m busy.” Blurr snapped, already poised to leave.

Shockwave raised a hand as if to gesture but paused. What did he want? There was no reason for him to talk to Blurr anymore; the Autobot had made his disgust very clear the last time they’d met.

“If you’ve got nothing to say, just leave. I have work to do, these crates aren’t gonna move themselves.”

Ah! A topic of conversation. “You seem to be adjusting here quite well. Are you being treated properly?”

Blurr shrugged, inspecting a finger. “Better than you’d treat me.”

“Ah. Well, I’m pleased to see you’re doing well.”

The blue bot scoffed. “Oh, save it. You’re just pretending to be polite. But you’re pretty good at that, aren’t you, Longarm?”

That hurt. A lot. He shouldn’t care or feel bad about any part of their history, and yet he did. It was strange and unfamiliar, and he didn’t like it.

“Theeeeere it is! I bet you’re regretting not personally throwing me in the incinerator, huh?! I would’ve died if you’d been just a little less cocky, and you’d never have to deal with me again, but nooooo, your pride was just so inflated! You really thought you’d finally got one over on me after all those years?”

“Please read this.” Forcing himself to refocus back on Blurr and extending a datapad.

“Why should I? You’re not my boss anymore. Even on this ship, you’re really not.”

“Blurr please-”

“Oh no, I’m not done.” Hopping off the box, Blurr began taking solid, confident steps towards Shockwave, forcing him to step back with every jab of his finger. “I dunno what the rest of Intel thinks about you, but it’s about high time you hear this from me! You lied to me, you led me on, gaining my trust, acting like my friend until you could turn around and murder me! I looked up to you! I idolized you! I wanted to be you!”

Shockwave was stunned at Blurr’s assertiveness and anger. It wasn’t something he’d ever displayed when they’d worked together on Cybertron, and was honestly not something Shockwave believed him capable of to this degree. He was too surprised to respond, still moving back and nearly tripping over stray objects on the floor.

Blurr’s voice continued to rise, his frame growing hotter as his line pressure increased. “Every compliment, every praise, it was all a lie! And I bought into every last bit of it, and for what?! Not a word that came out of your mouth meant a damn thing! Do you have any idea how much those things meant to me?!” His vision swam as he pulled his arm back to deliver a punch, his entire frame tingling with an unfamiliar energy.

Shockwave raised his hands in the pause, but just as he was about to speak, Blurr thrust his hand forward. A sharp pain radiated from Shockwave’s gut, stopping his words before anything was spoken. A cold silence had fallen over the cargo bay as the workers stared in shock and horror. Something was very wrong. Looking down, Shockwave saw a bright blue serrated energy blade firmly shoved inside of him.

Blurr looked the most terrified of anyone in the room. His optics were practically circles, his breathing growing ragged. His frame shook as he tried to make sense of it all. “Wh..what…what…?” The wound went clean through, the tip of the blade sticking out of Shockwave’s back. Where-Where-Where did it come from?! I don’t have weapons, I’m not that type of frame, how’d it get there, whaddo I do?! Oh no oh no oh no just don’t remove it, maybe you can still call a doctor, Ratchet will know what to do, just don’t move don’t move don’t move!

Despite his internal pleas, the blade quickly retracted, pulling forth a gush of energon with it. Shockwave teetered and fell onto his back, now covered in fluid from the growing pool of energon around him, his vision fading.

“Oh no… Oh no no no no no no no!” Panicking and crying, Blurr dropped to his knees, desperately trying to stim the leaking by applying pressure. “Come on come on come on, please please please please please please!”

Shockwave could just barely make out the fuzzy blue shape pressing on his abdomen, but even in his state, he knew who it was. What confused him was why?

“Say something, please!” Blurr was practically sobbing, his head whipping between the wound and looking at Shockwave, desperate for a response.

The ensuing panic of the room sounded muffled and slow as if he were underwater. He couldn’t make out a single word, but the panic in Blurr’s voice, however obscured, was evident. With what little energy and sense he had left, Shockwave lifted a shaky hand and wiped a stream of tears from Blurr’s face. His consciousness finally slipping away, he fell into emergency stasis.

Chapter Text

Optimus was abruptly woken by a loud, forceful knocking on his door. He had slept uncharacteristically late, panicking as he sprang up to answer that he was late for some impromptu meeting. Spark racing, he whipped open the door, only to find a very jittery Bumblebee on the other side.

“Is it true?!” The little bot’s engine revved with anticipation. “Is it, is it, is it?!”

Optimus rubbed his optics, the adrenaline having already started to wear off. “Is what true?”

“That you and Megatron are…you know…” He mimicked Tailwind’s finger-locking motion, looking at his friend expectantly.

Optimus squinted, still trying to get his bearings and figure out what the heck Bumblebee was talking about. “...Huh?”

“You know! You’re like, a thing! A pair! A couple!”

Optimus was suddenly very awake. “What?!”

“Oh, phew, so it is just a rumor. I dunno why I even thought it could be possible. I guess you’re just like me and Blitzwing, passively duking it out to figure out who’s stronger!”

He blinked rapidly, beyond confused. What was this about being with Megatron? And what was Bumblebee doing with Blitzwing?! This was the first he’d heard of any of this! “Uh…yeah… Yeah, we’re just like you two.”

“Man, and here I thought I was being original with my plan. But hey, it’s kinda fun we’re both doing the same thing, yeah? Maybe we can exchange tips on how to beat our Decepticons!” Bumblebee gestured around excitedly, completely unaware of the shock on his friend’s face. “Y’know, maybe we can hang out later! You’ve been locked up in those meetings so much we haven’t even had time to talk!”

“Uh…sure, that sounds good! It uh…might have to be later, though, I’m feeling a bit under the weather right now.”

“Whatever sounds good, boss bot! Gimme a call when you feel better, ok? We’ve got a lot to catch up on. In the meantime,” He grinned, pointing finger guns at Optimus, “I’ve got a date to plan.” With that, he left, driving down the hall and out of sight at top speed.

Optimus remained motionless for a few more seconds as Bumblebee’s words sank in. A rumor… Megatron..? A pair? A couple?! What’s going on?! Panic returning, he stepped back inside and closed the door. Alone again, memories started to flood back. His and Megatron’s deep, frequent talks that often got rather personal came to mind first. Their time spent together had genuinely been wonderful, both then and at the trading post. The trading post… It had all happened just barely a day ago and was still fresh in his mind. Every one of their meetings, however short, seemed to have culminated there. Megatron’s strange change in body language, his mood swings, his laughter, his smiles… It all started to hit Optimus as he slid down the wall to the floor, clutching his chest. The way Megatron looked at him and acted around him wouldn’t leave his mind, the thoughts growing more vivid by the second. Everything about this was so unlike Megatron, but it made Prime’s spark flutter every time. Shutting his optics did nothing to help, only making his thoughts more vivid. No, nononono, it’s nothing, it’s nothing! He was just happy to have someone to talk to, someone who shared his interests and enthusiasm and who genuinely seemed to enjoy their time together! They were just temporary work friends, if even that!

Optimus curled up as small as he could. Megatron’s laughter rang in his audials, his wide smile and soft optics flashing through his mind as if mocking him. What does he want… What does he want?! His spark pounded in his chest. He wished he wasn’t alone… He wished he was back in that dirty alley, safe and warm in Megatron’s lap. Why…why why whywhywhy?! Why did he want that? Why did it feel safe? Why did it feel right? Why, of all bots, did it have to be him? Prime’s frame trembled as he began to cry. How could everything feel so wrong and yet so right? He was so scared and confused; he just wanted to be held and comforted, to see those bright, soft optics again, and to hear Megatron’s low purr of a voice. What is this? What’s going on with me?!

You’re like, a thing! A pair! A couple! Bumblebee’s words echoed, sending a violent shiver through Prime’s body. No, he couldn’t… I couldn’t… If there really was a rumor like that going around, it was clear to see how it could’ve been started. He had to silence these allegations, no matter the cost. Although just a rumor, they could pose a risk to him and his friends, and if word got to the Council…

He took deep vents, slowly calming down. It was nothing but gossip. He couldn’t let it get to him like this. After a few minutes, he’d cooled off significantly. Still a bit shaky, he managed to stand with the help of the wall. Optimus took a deep breath, pushing those thoughts away as he steeled himself. Confidence…and assertiveness. You are more than capable of that. Megatron’s words from weeks ago, their first meeting in that little observation room, popped up, making his spark flutter again. Hiding his nerves, Optimus stepped out into the hall and headed to refuel with a newfound boldness, however real or false it may have been.

~~~~~~

Ultra Magnus had his elbows on the table, his fingers laced as he looked coldly around the Council chamber. The room was dim and monochrome, the only pops of color coming from the silent Senators, nervously waiting for their leader to begin. On the inside, Ultra Magnus was boiling with rage. Nothing seemed to be going according to plan, and it was becoming rather frustrating. Taking a deep vent in, he lowered his hands to the table, his demeanor otherwise unwavering. “I have called you all here concerning recent events. We are in need of restructuring our plans going forward.”

The Senators shuffled uneasily, remaining silent as Ultra Magnus continued.

“Our proceedings with the Decepticons have come to a standstill. This, coupled with the ever-growing issues on Cybertron, poses a threat to our peoples’ continued existence. Social unrest has been on the rise among our own citizens, pushed on by a fuel shortage and Decepticon lies. I had underestimated Megatron’s stubbornness in regards to our treaty. It seems he has a little voice urging him to push us, a little voice we sent to him. Our original plan to wait out the storm is in need of a course correction. Megatron is growing aware of my initial attempts to starve out his, and our citizens grow more restless the longer this deal takes.”

“What ‘course correction’ do you propose?” Alpha Trion was the first to speak up.

“I have already set things in motion. Sentinel Minor has been assigned to a case of individuals congregating in secret for private meetings. These are nothing more than a reading circle, but with enough time, we can weave enough together to form an arrest-worthy narrative and secure a reason to confine any remaining Decepticons. They will be once again seen as the danger they are, and with the public swayed back in our favor, we will retake what is rightfully ours.”

The Senators glanced around at each other, with Alpha Trion taking the lead again. “I hesitate to agree to such a plan, Ultra Magnus. There is little guarantee of success. If the public were to learn, it could be disastrous.”

“Perceptor has run countless simulations. The chance of failure is moderate, but there are several fail safes in place to ensure a favorable outcome.”

“And what of this peace treaty? Would it not benefit us all to see it through to the end? After eons of war, is cooperation truly so unbelievable? Yes, it would mean more individuals in need of resources, but it would also bolster our population numbers and provide more potential area to scour for energon deposits.”

Ultra Magnus’ voice showed a slight irritation peeking through. “The Decepticons pose a threat, however ‘peaceful’ they may have become. I will not jeopardize the safety of our people over a hypothetical.”

“While I can not speak for the others present, I find a plan of such nature highly unethical. Fraudulent accusation, whomever the subject may be, is dangerous and immoral on all fronts.”

“Ethics have not been much of a concern to you before, Alpha Trion. Or have you forgotten the part you played in the Great War?”

“The War is over. While Primus may never forgive me, I have chosen a path to atone for my wrongs nonetheless.” Standing slowly, he looked at his leader with a burning determination. “Leave behind your bitter personal disputes and make the right choice for the sake of our people!”

“I am doing this for the sake of our people! Whatever your personal beliefs may be, this is a matter of security and survival, and I will not allow the Decepticons to emerge victorious. With fuel supplies rapidly decreasing, we must prioritize our own, and if that means expediting the end of the Decepticons, then so be it.”

“You speak of a slow, painful extermination! Your words reek of falsities, a parrot of Nova! This entire plan of yours hangs by a thread, one that could be cut by even the dullest blade! With all due respect, Ultra Magnus, this is beyond foolish. I was old long before you were ever forged. I have witnessed countless leaders, Minor to Magnus, felled by their own pride, and I will not stand to see another make the same decision, nor will I allow another mistake to stain my hands with spilt energon!”

Alpha Trion’s words echoed around the cold, silent room. None dared speak nor move as everything settled it, the tension thick enough to cut. The old Senator didn’t budge either, his optics locked with his superior’s.

After a few seconds, Senator Botanica slowly raised a hand. “I second with Senator Alpha Trion. Such a plan is not advisable, it carries far too much risk.”

Alpha Trion followed suit in raising his hand. “All opposed?”

Every hand in the room went up.

Alpha Trion’s expression softened. “This treaty is an opportunity for a fresh start, Ultra Magnus. It is high time we move on from our past and rebuild.”

After what felt like hours, Ultra Magnus pushed himself up to his feet. Scanning the room, there was a barely masked rage burning just behind his optics. “I had hoped this would be a more productive session. You are all dismissed.”

He remained standing as everyone left, his processor boiling. The Senators’ concerns would have been understandable had the situation not involved Decepticons. Optimus, the Senators, and many other Autobots could all be traitors with how things were going! Decepticons were tricky, they knew how to weasel into vulnerable minds. Ultra Magnus’ face twitched, signaling him to take a deep vent. He slowly lowered back into his seat, steepling his hands to lean his forehead on. Extermination… What choice do I have? It’s my people or his, and I have to prioritize mine. As cold as he had to be outwardly, it wasn’t a choice he particularly wanted to make. Of course, Decepticons were dangerous! They always had been, but that didn’t make it any less fair to them to be on the other end of this dilemma right now.

Rubbing his face, Ultra Magnus took another deep vent in and out. Alpha Trion’s words hurt; even as his superior, Ultra Magnus looked up to and admired his elder. Magnus valued his input, but this situation was just different. Allow the Decepticons to stay and integrate and risk a potential coup and a worsening fuel shortage. Push them away and risk reigniting their war and civil unrest. Nothing was certain, and nothing was easy, but such was the life of a leader. With one more deep breath, he forced himself to stand and leave, hardening his spark to do what he deemed to be right.

~~~~~~

The cafeteria was just as busy and chatty as it had been that morning. As Optimus walked in, however, a hush fell over it. He paid the onlookers no mind as he patiently waited for the dispenser, although he could absolutely feel every single optic boring into his back. Just as he was starting to have his doubts about coming here, his cube dispensed, providing him with a little distraction. Taking a sip, he turned to face his audience, raising an eyebrow to feign confusion. Immediately, everyone looked away, pretending like they hadn’t just been whispering about Optimus. He shrugged, and keeping his breathing steady, took a seat at the end of a random table, much to its occupants’ surprise. As the minutes passed, the silence went unbroken, and it really started to weigh on Optimus again. Suddenly, he felt a tap on the shoulder, whipping his head towards its source.

“Uh…hi.” Tailwind waved awkwardly.

“Oh, hey… It’s uh…been a while.” Oh Primus, everyone’s staring again. “How’ve you been?”

“Oh, y’know. Same ol’, same ol’.” He fidgeted, not enjoying the unwanted attention either. “You?”

“Pretty good. Meetings, sleeping, not much else going on.”

“That’s good! …I uh… Have you… Uhm…”

“Oh, Primus, get to the point! We don’t have all day!” Someone called impatiently from the back of the room. “Hey, Autobot! Are you kissin’ up on our leader?”

He shot up from his seat, spark pounding. “NO! Why would you even think that?!”

A slightly disgruntled grumble washed through the room. “Well, word is, you’ve been getting awfully close if ya know what I mean.” The Decepticon snickered, nudging the guy next to him.

Despite his best efforts, Optimus felt his cheeks warm. “Nothing is going on! We barely get along enough to do our jobs! Do you really think, after everything he’s done, I’d so much as entertain even being friends with him?!”

“Geez, ya don’t have to get so heated, it was just a question.” The Decepticon huffed, crossing his arms and grinning smugly. “Whatever you’re ‘not doing,’ keep ‘not doing’ it. The boss is in a good mood, and we wanna keep it like that.”

Optimus felt like he could explode. Gritting his teeth, he stormed out.

Tailwind sighed, slumping. “Why’d you guys put me up to this…”

“Cus he doesn’t hate you. Plus, it’s kinda funny.” The remaining Decepticons laughed, clearly having a great time.

Tailwind sighed harder and jogged out after Optimus.

Prime’s vision had begun to swim again, the edges darkening. Though short, that exchange had violently brought back the thoughts he’d tried to push away. He wanted to scream, cry, and fight, but the mental images of Megatron just wouldn’t let him. After aimlessly walking for minutes on end, he finally came to a stop and took a deep, whimpering vent in and out.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t think they’d be that blunt.”

Tailwind’s voice cut through the silence like a blade, only making Optimus feel worse. Now, he had an audience for his pathetic behavior. Not wanting to say anything he’d regret, Optimus resumed his stress walk.

The Decepticon was persistent. “I-I’ll try to talk them down, I’m sure this’ll blow over…”

“Please, just…just leave…” He was on the verge of tears, his voice already quivering. Feeling rather miserable, Optimus had to stop again, leaning his head on a wall.

At first considering obeying Prime’s request, Tailwind instead chose to join in forehead-moping against the wall right next to him. “...Is it really that upsetting?”

Prime nodded.

“Do you…wanna talk about it?”

Debating for a few seconds, he nodded again.

“Ok…” Tailwind collected his thoughts, considering how to go about it. “...What’s really going on with you two?”

Sniffling, it took a minute for Optimus to answer. “...Just because we talk sometimes doesn’t mean there’s anything else going on… We could never even begin to be friends. You know what he’s done…”

“Well…d’you want to be friends with him?”

‘You’re like, a thing! A pair! A couple!’ Every thought, every feeling bounced around in his head, ripping at his processor. “...I don’t know what I want anymore…” Devolving into tears, he covered his face, jerking as a gentle hand came to rest on his back.

“S’ok man…get it all out…” It was kind of awkward, but Tailwind did his best to comfort the poor mech, rubbing gentle circles into his back.

“It’s nice to just…have someone to talk to, you know? I-I don’t know anyone else who cares enough about history to…to talk about it like that!” Prime’s frame jerked with every shaky breath. “Why can’t I just let it be? Things were fine the way they were before. I don’t need this! We don’t need to get along like this…”

Tailwind knew there was more to it than that, but pressing the issue might not be a smart choice. “Think of it this way… You two having better rapport is…is good for those peace meetings you’re doing, y’know? If you get along better outside them, you’ll probably do better in them! I know you’re doing everything you can to help, and…this could be good, I think.”

Still leaning on the wall, Optimus crossed his arms and cried quietly. Just the meetings…just for those… Those warm optics and bright smile taunted him. He was dangerously close to overheating, and yet he felt cold. A shudder ran through Prime’s body; Tailwind was doing his best to comfort him, but he wanted to be held by Megatron again so much it made his chest hurt. His dread grew with each passing second that perhaps there was truth to the rumors and that some part of him wanted them to be true. Trying to speak, his voice was barely a whisper. “What do I do…”

“I…I don’t know. That’s not something I can figure out for you.” Tailwind sighed, scooting a little closer. “You’re a good mech, Optimus. A lot of stuff doesn’t make sense right now, but your spark is in the right place. …Maybe talk to your friends about it. They know you better than I do…”

Was this really something he could talk to them about? Not a single Autobot looked at Megatron favorably, and certainly not the ones who’d fought him so often. Just as lost as when this had started, he weakly shook his head.

The pair remained as they were for some time as Optimus slowly calmed down. Sniffling, he slowly removed his forehead from the wall, feeling extremely awkward and avoiding eye contact. What he didn’t expect was for Tailwind to wrap him in a gentle hug.

“It’s gonna be ok, man. You’re gonna be ok.” Tailwind wasn’t sure why he did it, but it felt like the right thing to do.

Despite the initial surprise, Optimus relaxed into the embrace, returning it after a few seconds. “...Thank you, Tailwind…”

“Anytime. I’m here if you need anything, ok?” Tailwind ended the hug, giving Optimus a pat on the back with a smile.

Optimus silently nodded, watching as the Decepticon rounded the corner, his footsteps fading. He was alone again, and more conflicted than ever.

Chapter Text

Bumblebee had indeed heard back from Optimus later in the day, but it seemed like his friend still wasn’t feeling all too well. It was a little disappointing, but they’d have plenty of time to catch up once he was feeling better. Whatever the case, Bumblebee wouldn’t be bored tonight; he had indeed spent the day planning a ‘date’ and was currently in the mess hall, eagerly awaiting its start. He sat at their usual back center table, two small cubes of energon already laid out alongside a centerpiece vaguely resembling a flower. He had an audience again of a few strangers, familiar faces who always seemed to be present and ready to watch the evening’s drama unfold. Swinging his legs, the minutes wore on past their meeting time, and Bumblebee began to grow anxious he’d be stood up again. Maybe Blitzwing was just running late. Maybe he’d been called away for some job again, or maybe he’d decided to ditch altogether. If he does stand me up…that means I’m winning! His smile quickly subsided. As much as he wanted to win, he wanted to see Blitzwing again, too. He’d felt oddly hurt the last time the Decepticon hadn’t shown, and he really wanted to mess with the big guy again.

“Bumblebeeeeee!” The enthusiastic tone of the Twins was unmistakable.

“Guys!” He sprang up excitedly to greet them. “Man, it’s been forever! You finally talked Jazz into letting you out? Ooh, or did you sneak out?”

“Neither!” The pair pointed at a very tired Jazz leaning by the door.

“I haven’t known peace in weeks.” The white bot sounded absolutely defeated.

“Oh, that’s so nice of you guys to take him out with you!” Bumblebee beamed, looking between the three.

“Mister Jazz will not admit, but he has fun with us.” Jetfire nodded, prompting his brother to do the same.

“Ok, well, I’m glad you guys are here. You’re just in time fo-”

At that moment, Blitzwing finally showed, walking in like nothing had happened.

Bumblebee went into immediate Diva mode, gasping dramatically and clutching his chest. “How dare you show up this late? I’ve been waiting for an hour! I was starting to think you stood me up again!”

Blitzwing raised a brow. “Jou ver waiting for an hour?”

Grumbling, Bumblebee climbed on top of the nearest table, hands on his hips. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?!”

“...Jou ver an hour early.”

“What?! No I wasn’t, we agreed to meet tonight at seven!”

“Check zhe time.”

He pouted and crossed his arms but did as instructed. Almost immediately, his face turned red. It was currently seven; he’d got their meeting time wrong. “Well, I- I uh… Hmph.” He turned away, intensifying his pouting.

Blitzwing patted him on the helm and went to take his seat.

The onlookers snickered, only fueling Bumblebee’s embarrassment. Grumbling, he returned to his seat across from Blitzwing, refusing to look at him.

The Twins and Jazz stared, mouths agape at what they were witnessing. Though Jazz remained stunned, he was dragged to a seat by the grinning jets, who were beyond engrossed in whatever this new bit of entertainment was.

Blitzwing took a sip of his cube, stealing a couple of quick glances at the little bot before him. He really was rather adorable like this. The way he sat, how he crossed his arms and raised his shoulders when he pouted, the way he puffed up his cheeks or stuck out his bottom lip, and certainly the bright blush that painted his cheeks. “Cute.”

“What?!” Bumblebee’s head whipped around.

“Jou. Jou are cute.” Blitzwing said flatly.

“Grrrrrrhhh, stop calling me cute! I am not cute!” It only made his cheeks flush brighter.

“Yes, jou are.” He took another sip, stone cold as ever.

Bumblebee’s spark was bouncing in his chest like a pinball on a sugar rush. “Call me that again, I dare you! See what happens then!”

Blitzwing took another sip of his drink, dragging out his date’s anticipation. “Jou are cute. Very cute.”

Bumblebee grumbled and growled, gesturing in frustration as he grew more flustered. Grabbing his cube, he chugged it in an attempt to calm down but only managed to choke, devolving into a coughing fit. Blitzwing gave him a couple of reassuring pats on the back, but it didn't do much beyond making Bumblebee’s spark race faster. Slag, he’s good. How does he manage to fake it so well? He almost wished Blitzwing would say it again but scratched that thought. Finally catching his breath, he took a quick look at the rest of the sparsely populated room. Some bots were murmuring amongst themselves, taking poorly hidden glances at the pair, and others, like the Twins, were full-on staring. It hit him just how embarrassing it was to have so many people, especially your sworn rival, see you mess up that much in such a short time.

The ensuing silence was oppressive, only broken by an occasional whisper and the endless, low drone of the fuel dispensers. Cute… I’m not cute, I’m fierce! The more Bumblebee thought about it, the harder his spark beat. His cheeks felt warm and tingly as he stole a few more glances at the still stoic Blitzwing, his optics running up and down the larger bot’s frame. The memory of their first sparring session sent a jolt through his body, the image of being pinned under Blitzwing vividly at the front of his processor. Optics wide, Bumblebee took another large swig of his fuel, thankfully not choking this time. I’m not cute…and I don’t wanna lose any more matches to him! Uuuugh, it’s so annoying! Who does he think he is, pinning me down like that?

“Vhat’s wrong?” Blitzwing cocked his head, noticing his companion’s rapidly changing facial expressions.

“Hm? What? Nothing. It’s all good, I’m fine, everything’s fine.”

Blitzwing blinked at him, face stiff as a rock.

How is he so good at this?! Ok ok alright, I’ll play along. I’m not losing this. Grinning slyly, Bumblebee leaned in, playfully running a finger along Blitzwing’s arm. “I was just…thinking about how cute you are too, y’know? You just had me so off-guard with your compliments and dashing good looks.”

Blitzwing gave no indication of just how fast his spark was beating now.

Seriously? Nothing?! Fine, I guess we’ll have to step it up again. He lifted Blitzwing’s hand, fidgeting around with his fingers. “I mean, really, look at you! You’re tall, dark, and handsome, you’ve got a perfectly sculpted, unique frame and three whole personalities! I can’t say I’ve met anyone else like that before. As annoying as you can be, I’m a bit jealous of how cool you are.”

“Hm.” Again, Blitzwing gave no indication of his internal storm of emotions until his head began to literally spin. “AHAHAHAH! So jou think I’m cute and handsome? Jou’re so cute vhen jou say nice things!” Random grabbed the Autobot’s hand, pulling him closer and leaning in. “Jou’re still cuter though! AHAHAHAHAHA!”

Bumblebee was panicked beyond belief being this close to Blitzwing. He could feel every bit of heat radiating from the Decepticon, his own spark threatening to beat a hole through his chest. Shaking it off as best as he could, the grin returned. “Why don’t you pull me closer, huh? Or are you too scared I’ll kiss you or somethin’?”

Not wanting to back down from a dare, Blitzwing did indeed pull Bumblebee across the table, pressing them together. “I bet jou won’t! I bet jou won’t!”

Random’s taunts were grating, but Bumblebee wasn’t one to chicken out either. Face red and flustered, he bounced up in Blitzwing’s arms, giving him a light peck on the cheek.

The entire room fell dead silent, only interrupted by the loud THUD of Jazz passing out face-first onto the table.

Random blinked stupidly a few times before devolving into unhinged laughter as his face began to rapidly spin between his moods.

“AHAHAHAHAHA! Oh mein Gott, jou actually did it!”

“How dare jou, bug?!”

“AHAHAHAHAHA, I can’t believe jou actually did it!”

Bumblebee sat and watched from the edge of the table, taking great pleasure in his perceived victory. He won! He totally won! He’d proved himself to be the smartest, sneakiest, most resilient of the two!

After a couple minutes of insanity, Blitzwing finally returned to his usual cold expression. Contrary to Bumblebee’s expectations, however, he didn’t concede. Instead, he reached out to lift the Autobot’s chin and gently thumbed over it. “Tsk tsk tsk, I can’t just leave jou unsatisfied, can I? A favor must always be returned.” Before the little bot could react, Blitzwing had already planted a quick kiss directly on his lips.

Bumblebee squeaked and froze up, inside and out. His processor and spark felt like they had just exploded, with tons of internal alerts filling his HUD. He was genuinely at a loss, unable to do anything.

Showing nothing outwardly, Blitzwing tapped his forehead. “Hello? Are jou in there?”

Error 404 Bumblebee not found. All Bumblebee could muster was another squeak as he sat stiff as a board, his optics wide and staring at the wall.

Blitzwing pat the stunned bot’s helm and returned to his drink. Cute.

Minutes passed and turned into hours as the room slowly emptied, the quiet, excited chatter of those present having not once died down. Even the Twins had turned in for the night, dragging a catatonic Jazz with them as they left. With only a couple of strangers remaining, Bumblebee finally rebooted and shook off his funk. What…what did I do? What did he do?! Ohhhohoho, he thinks he can win this?! He thinks I can’t play this game?! Well, he better stop underestimating me, I can do much worse than that! Huffing, he slid off the table right next to Blitzwing and resumed his sly, flirty tone, once again running a finger along the Decepticon’s arm. “Soooo, d’you like me or somethin’?”

Blitzwing just sipped his drink.

Bumblebee squinted, honestly kind of offended. “So what, you just kissed me for fun?” Why do I care if it was ‘for fun’? We’re doing this exactly for that reason! As he spoke, another mech left, only one other remaining.

No response came from the Decepticon as he sipped his drink again.

Blitzwing’s lack of reaction stung. He just wanted a solid answer! Was this just another part of Blitzwing’s strategy? Was he going to try to out-annoy Bumblebee?! Impossible! His grin grew more smug, crossing his arms. “What, are you too scared to admit it?” Or to admit I won?

Again, no response, not even a glance.

Bumblebee really was offended now. Had he gone too far? Was Blitzwing gonna call off their game and forfeit? He didn’t want that, he was having fun! He started to pout again, turning up his nose. “Fine! Have it your way. You’re not even that cool!” Unknown to him, the last stranger had finally left, leaving the two alone together.

Without a word, Blitzwing wrapped an arm around Bumblebee and pulled him close, much to the smaller bot’s surprise. Still, it felt kind of nice… A bit hesitant, Bumblebee leaned into him, only then noticing their solitude. “You don’t have to do this… There’s no one else here.”

“I know.”

Blitzwing’s softer tone made Bumblebee’s spark flutter, the blush returning to his cheeks. Dang…he’s good. …And warm… He scooted as close as he could, caressing Blitzwing’s arm. It’s just a game… But maybe he could let himself enjoy this just a little. Closing his optics, he nestled in for their remaining time.

~~~~~~

Bumblebee awoke in the late hours of the night to a strange feeling as if he were being carried. As his vision adjusted, he realized that’s exactly what was happening. The stony visage of Blitzwing was directly above him, focused on the trek ahead. Not bad lookin’... After a couple of seconds of staring, he shook it off and tried to orient himself. Where were they going? As dark as the halls were, they seemed familiar… Oh! He’s taking me back to my room! …My room, huh? Stretching in an exaggerated manner, he cuddled back into Blitzwing’s chest. “Hey, Blitzyyyyy…?”

“Hm?”

“Can I spend the night with you? I don’t like being alone…” He batted his eyes, making little circles with his finger on Blitzwing’s chest.

“No.”

The pout returned. “Awww, why not?”

“Jour room is perfectly fine und safe.” And they had just reached it. Bending over, he let Bumblebee out of his arms and started to leave.

The yellow bot was undeterred, immediately following at his heels like a lost puppy. “Pleeeeeeeease? I promise I won’t be annoying!”

“No.”

If I go back, he wins! I’m not gonna let that happen, not after all this! …Do I win by default since he’s turning down my request? Ah well, let’s see what happens. Plastering on a smile, Bumblebee trotted to keep pace with the bigger mech until they got to his room.

“I von’t say it again, Autobot. Go away.” Blitzwing didn’t close the door fast enough, allowing the speedy little bot to slip in after him.

“Nah, we’re gonna keep hanging out.”

Rolling his optics, Blitzwing climbed onto his recharge slab, flopping onto his back with a huff. He hoped Bumblebee would leave of his own accord out of boredom but was honestly kind of curious to see just how far the little nuisance would take it.

Not one to back down from another challenge, Bumblebee spent several minutes making a valiant attempt to get up on the recharge slab. Jumping, driving, nothing worked, and it was getting frustrating. He’s probably asleep already anyway… Should I just leave?

Sensing his conundrum, Blitzwing ‘accidentally’ let an arm fall over the side of his bed, providing Bumblebee with the perfect ladder. Once he was on the slab, he immediately snuggled up, wrapping as much of himself around Blitzwing as he could.

Despite being ‘asleep,’ Blitzwing scooted around a bit, pulling the Autobot into an embrace of his own.

Bumblebee smiled, exhaling contentedly. Man, he’s good…and really comfy… Those were his final thoughts before drifting off into a warm, restful recharge.

~~~~~~

The next morning, Bumblebee woke up to the unpleasant sensation of his large bed of a bot moving. “Mmph…five more minutes…” He clung on like a spider as Blitzwing sat up, making certain to keep the little bot close.

“I apologize, meine liebe… I have a meeting to attend.” He kissed Bumblebee’s helm as softly as he spoke.

Bumblebee grumbled. “But do you haaaaaave to go? You’re so warm…”

“I am sorry, I must leave. I promise we vill meet again later.” All the while, he peppered Bumblebee’s helm with those same soft kisses.

“You mean it?” Bumblebee looked up at him sleepily.

“I do, my little bug.” Blitzwing ran a gentle finger over his cheek.

“Ok… Awwwwh, but I’m still sleepy…it’s so early! I don’t wanna get up…” He whined, burying his face in the Decepticon’s chest.

“Then jou can stay as long as you wish. Perhaps jou’ll be here vhen I return, perhaps not… Whatever zhe case, jou’re velcome here.”

Blitzwing’s entire demeanor and the onslaught of butterfly kisses were very convincing. “...Ok…I’ll let you go…”

A bit reluctantly, Blitzwing was able to lay the smaller bot down, petting him a few times as he curled up and fell back asleep with a smile on his face. He lingered for a bit, watching Bumblebee’s chest rise and fall, running a finger along the face seam of his helm. As averse as Blitzwing’s colder personality was to any show of emotion, he couldn’t help allowing himself a little smile. After a few minutes, he had to tear himself away to avoid Megatron’s ire over being late. Taking one more look back at the little yellow lump on his bed, Blitzwing quietly closed the door and left to start his day.

~~~~~~

Hours later, Bumblebee woke up again, this time fully. It took him a minute to realize where he was, but once he did, he was still confused. He just…let me stay in here? Alone? Unsupervised? …How many times did he kiss me? He’s really in it to win it, huh? Stretching, he flung his legs over the side of the slab, swinging them as he looked around. Blitzwing’s room was as bare-bones as one could imagine; nothing but a recharge slab and a small dispenser were present within the relatively clean confines. Bumblebee wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t this. Perhaps more chaos. Sitting around a bit more, his mind started to drift to that morning and the previous night. Blitzwing must be really dedicated to winning this. How does he do it? It’s so believable! He could almost feel the warmth of the Decepticon’s frame as he thought about being carried and sleeping together, and their early morning interaction he only faintly remembered. His spark fluttered again, eliciting a giggle. Whatever direction this game was heading in, he was enjoying it. I wonder how long those meetings are… maybe I'll just hang out here? The room was rather boring, though, and his tanks felt pretty empty…

His decision made, Bumblebee jumped down and strolled off to the mess hall, feeling pretty good about his chances.

~~~~~~

The cafeteria was somewhat busy, with it being around the middle of breakfast time. As soon as Bumblebee walked in, every head turned towards the bright yellow intrusion, and it didn’t go unnoticed by him for once. “...What?”

“Congrats, little guy!” Some random Decepticon walked past, giving him a pat on the back.

“Yeah, again, what? …Ohhh, is this about my game with Blitzwing? Yeah, I totally won.” He stood proud, smirking.

“Uh…is that what you’re calling it?”

“I mean, yeah? That's what it is!”

“Mmhm…” Unconvinced, the mech stepped aside.

“What’s the deal? It’s a game! A contest! I don’t get what the big deal is!” His spark fluttered again. “…Wait, is this about the kissing thing?”

“Look, we’ve all kinda been making bets on which one of you Autobots would fall for our bosses first, and you kinda won.” About a third of the room grumbled. “I had my credits on that Prime you came with, buuut I can’t say you haven't been extremely entertaining either.”

“Wait wait wait, you’ve got it all wrong. Me and Blitzwing, there's nothing going on like that! Wh-We’re just having a contest to see who’s better, that’s all!” We kissed… Wait, they’re taking bets?!

“My brother in Primus…” The Decepticon took a deep vent in, placing his hands on Bumblebee’s shoulders. “You’re more dense than Tungsten.”

“...Like, the metal?”

“And my friend over there.” He nodded towards a mech near the back of the room, who waved politely. “So, you know how Blitzwing usually is, right?”

“Uhm… He’s either emotionless, angry, or insane. Why’re you asking? You know the answer.”

Primus, give me strength. “Some of us were here during your ‘date’ last night. That was the most range we’ve ever seen from his faces. I’m gonna be straightforward with you, buddy. I have no idea how you can't see how absolutely into you he is. You kissed, for Primus’ sake! Does that not set off any ringers for you?!”

“Geez, chill! It’s just a game! Sure, we kissed! I kissed him, he kissed me back…a lot. We cuddled, I slept in his bed, and he said I could come over anytime! It’s all part of our competition, see? We’re trying to out-awkward each other to determine who’s the strongest and smartest once and for all! The first to cave loses!”

The Decepticon pursed his lips, wholly unconvinced. Looking at his cohorts, they were in the same boat. “...Wow. I dunno how much more clear anyone could possibly make this. You two could be conjunxed, and you’d still think it’s just part of your game.”

“Well, that might be a bit far. But I mean, if it came to it, I guess I’d agree. I’m not losing to him, no matter what.”

“I give up!” The poor mech threw his hands up and returned to his seat.

Bumblebee looked around, confused as to how nobody was getting his explanation. It was just a little competition! One that made his spark bounce like a rubber ball, but still! A tap on his shoulder alerted him to Tailwind’s presence.

The poor flier looked so tired as he took a deep vent in. “Bumblebee, buddy, friend, I’m gonna ask you some questions, ok?”

“Um, yeah, sure?”

“How do you feel when you kiss Blitzwing or vice versa?”

“Uh…good, I guess? He’s a good kisser.”

“Ok. And is he visually appealing?”

“I mean, yeah, he’s tall and well-built. Nice optics, nice faces, the works.”

“Do you think about him a lot?”

“Oh yeah, constantly!”

“Do you like hanging out with him?”

“Obviously. He’s fun!”

“Ok. And how do you feel when you’re around him?”

“Uh…happy? Like I said, he’s fun.”

“Does your chest ever feel weird when you’re together?”

“Sometimes it feels like my spark is gonna launch out at light speed, but that’s about it. Why?”

Tailwind took another deep vent in and out, placing his hands on Bumblebee’s arms. “I’m gonna be blunt with you, ok? You like him, and he really likes you. Go talk to him like a responsible, grown mech and get this figured out cus you don’t wanna be this oblivious about it forever, ok? It’s not fair to either of you.”

Bumblebee blinked, trying to make sense of Tailwind’s words. He…likes me? Like, in the Like-Like way? His spark jumped. And…I like him? His spark jumped again. We kissed…we cuddled…but it’s all just our game, right? ‘Jou’re cute.’ …Oh sweet Primus. ‘My little bug.’ Ohhhhh, sweet Primus. The gears were turning, and the realization slowly dawned on him as he raised his hands to grab his head. “...Oh my GOD!”

“Hey buddy, you gonna be ok?” When did I become a relationship therapist for Autobots?

“Ohhhhhmy god…” Nearly in tears already, he grabbed Tailwind by the shoulders. “Ratchet’s gonna kill me!”

“Buddy, that’s the least of your worries right now. Just…talk to Blitzwing, ok? Everything’s gonna be fine.”

“Ohmygod…is that how he was so good at this? It’s not just him messing with me?! Scrap scrap scrap waddo I do?!” Bumblebee muttered to himself as he shambled over to the dispensers. Chugging his cube, he sped out into the hall and started driving laps around the ship to calm down enough to figure out his next steps while Blitzwing was still otherwise occupied.

Chapter Text

Shockwave’s optic fluttered open as his systems rebooted in the barely lit medbay. The hour was very late, but he was relieved to know he hadn’t been out for long. As the feeling and mobility began returning to his body, he tried to get it moving a bit; wiggling his fingers, moving his ankles, and trying to bend his limbs was uncomfortable. Emergency stasis was never pleasant. It always made his joints creaky and achy. At least his stab wound had been patched up, and for that, he was thankful. Only barely able to pivot his neck, Shockwave saw all types of tubes and monitors to his right. Most sat by idly, likely having been used on him earlier, with only a pulse monitor now strapped to his arm. To his left, there wasn’t much of note, only a slight warmth near that arm. Strange… His optic shuttered and refocused a few times, trying to discern the odd, dark lump he'd noticed was providing said warmth.

The lump stirred, exhaling as it readjusted its hold on Shockwave’s arm.

It took a moment, but Shockwave registered the lump as Blurr. His helm shape was unmistakable, even in a dark room, and even in his semi-delirium. Shockwave’s spark jumped, causing a small spike on the monitor. Why… Why was Blurr here, and why was he hugging Shockwave’s arm? He was amazed the Autobot could sleep so soundly in his presence, given their history. Despite the pain, Shockwave managed to turn his head all the way, gazing tiredly at Blurr. Something urged him to reach out, and very carefully, he did, gently running the back of his claws over the little bot’s helm. His spark beat and twisted, wishing he could do more.

Blurr stirred again under his touch. His optics slowly opened, fluttering as he glanced around. Seeing Shockwave’s own optic, he sprang to his feet, a mixture of worry and fear washing over him. Contrary to his expected behavior, he leaned in closer, keeping his hands on Shockwave’s arm. “Ohmygosh, you’re awake! Are you ok? How do you feel? You’re not still leaking internally, are you?”

Shockwave blinked slowly as his mind caught up to his optic. “I am fine…” But why was Blurr here?

Blurr whimpered and bit his lip, fighting back tears. “Good, I’m…I’m glad.” Removing his hands, he balled them into fists and looked away. “I-I’m sorry…”

His sparkrate spiked again, immediately clearing his mental fog. Shockwave tried to sit up, but the lingering surgical pain was too much. Groaning, he was forced to lay back down.”Don’t apologize…please…”

Frame shaking from nerves and worry, Blurr shook his head. “I-I didn't know I had integrated weaponry, I didn’t mean to get so mad, I didn’t, I didn’t, I didn’t, I didn’t-” He began to ramble and stutter, his frame heaving as he lost control of his breathing.

“Blurr, it’s -ngh- it’s fine…” With much effort and pain, Shockwave finally managed to sit up. “I had it coming for a long time.”

Blurr wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Yes, Shockwave did deserve it. He deserved far worse if Blurr was being honest, but the guilt still gnawed at him. “I read your note… M-More like an essay, I guess.”

“...Oh…” Shockwave looked away, irritated at just how much the pulse monitor was giving him away. He’d been terrified to even write that letter, let alone actually have Blurr read it. Its delivery could’ve gone better, but at least it had gotten to the Autobot. Now, he was at Blurr’s mercy, awaiting the fallout.

The blue bot fidgeted, sniffling as he did his damndest to not cry. “...Is that…really how you feel? What you wrote? And don’t lie… Please, for once, just…be honest with me.”

That one truth hurt. Shockwave hadn’t once been honest with him, but maybe, after everything, he owed it to the Autobot. “I meant every word. Every apology, every confession…it’s all for you. You deserve to know.”

“But why?! You hate me! You tried to kill me, for Primus’ sake, and I’m supposed to believe this scrap you’re shoveling about how you had feelings for me?!”

“You need not believe a word I say, Blurr. I simply thought you ought to know.” Despite his best efforts, Shockwave couldn’t look at him.

“Don’t give me that scrap! What did you think I’d do after you told me, huh?! That I’d just forgive you or something?! No! No, I slaggin’ wouldn’t!” Blurr’s chest hurt as he held in sobs. “Why did you think this wouldn’t hurt me more than you already have?! You lied to me for years upon years, tried to kill me, and telling me you liked me is supposed to fix things?! If you’d wanted to prove it to me, you wouldn’t have betrayed us! You wouldn’t have betrayed me!” The tears finally came as he screamed and sobbed, growing hoarse. “I loved you! I loved Longarm! I loved every lie he fed me, and I accepted every single one without a second thought because I slagging loved you! And you know what? I’m glad I never told you! You would’ve just expedited my misery! You would’ve figured out some other way to weasel into my mind and use me sooner!”

“You…what?..” He felt the same..? Shockwave’s antlers fell as a wave of despair washed over him. His spark felt as if it were being dragged across hot coals at hearing Blurr’s confessions and seeing him in this state.

“Don’t look at me like that! I hate it when you do that, just stop lying!” Blurr’s frame heaved and shook with every word. “Please…just stop… Stop lying to me!”

Pushing through the pain in his side, Shockwave got to the edge of the table. He wanted to reach out and touch Blurr but forced himself to stay still, as much as his spark screamed to do otherwise. “I… I wish things had been different… I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…”

“You’ve never…meant…an apology…in your life!”

“I mean all of this one.” Finally acting on his urges, Shockwave reached out to comfort Blurr. One hand supported an elbow, the other gently petting his helm. “I have spent my life lying and hiding to survive… So much so I hardly know myself anymore. When I integrated into life on Cybertron, few showed me politeness outside of formalities. But you… You were a ray of light from the moment we met. You accepted me. You talked to me, you invited me out, you performed the tasks I assigned to perfection, all despite my oddities, and I could never figure out why you were so good to me. I found myself admiring so much of you, and before I realized it, I had fallen for you. …Choosing my loyalties was one of the toughest decisions I have made… Sometimes, I wonder how things would be different had I chosen you.”

Curling into himself, Blurr’s sobbing intensified, though he didn’t pull back from Shockwave’s touch.

“I wish I could take it all back… But…had you known who I was…what I was…you would have never treated me as kindly. You were one of the first, one of the few to treat me so well.” Shockwave caught a glimpse of his reflection in a small mirror on the wall, the dark, featureless void of what was once a face and the singular glowing optic staring back in mockery. ‘Impure. Worthless. Not even good enough to be melted down for scrap.’ An eons-old, unfamiliar voice laughed in his shattered memories, pushing out the first tear Shockwave has had in centuries.

Blurr was still crying but had collected himself enough to speak. “I…I love you… I love you… I love you!”

Shockwave shook his head, staring at himself in the mirror. “You love a lie.”

“Then don’t lie!” Whipping his head up, Blurr grabbed Shockwave’s hands. “Stop pretending!”

The Decepticon didn’t look down. “Then what would you have me be?”

“Yourself!”

Myself… Who am I…? His reflection taunted him. Nothing. A blank slate. A piece of clay that fits in any mold. The glowing red orb in the mirror slowly moved down and disappeared as he transformed.

Blurr pulled his hands back and watched, optics widening in shock as the familiar form of Longarm materialized.

“Is this…satisfactory? Your love would no longer be misplaced.” Longarm looked and sounded exhausted, barely able to look at Blurr.

The Autobot stared in stunned silence for a moment. Slowly, he wiped his tears and took a careful step forward, extending a shaky hand to cup his former boss’s cheek. It almost didn’t feel real; the mech he’d wanted for so long was right in front of him, and yet, it felt wrong. Swallowing, he placed his other hand, taking in everything that had just happened with a slightly calmer mind.

Longarm leaned into Blurr’s touch and looked away, ashamed of himself. How pathetic was it to try and win back his affection like this? He felt guilty, but if this is what he had to do, then so be it. It wasn’t any different than any other part of his life.

“No.”

He sheepishly looked at Blurr, certain he’d just been rejected. “What?..”

“This isn’t you. Just a persona.”

As he began to tear up, the confusion in Longarm’s optics was evident. “Then…who am I?”

“I don’t know…” Despite his sniffles, Blurr smiled softly and rubbed his thumbs over Longarm’s cheeks. “But, I’d like to help you figure it out. If you’ll let me, of course.”

It didn’t make sense. Was Blurr playing some sick joke on him? There wasn’t a hint of malice in his voice, though. Longarm’s optics darted around, trying to make sense of it all. Taking a deep vent in, he transformed back into his true form of the tall, lanky, purple mech.

Blurr’s hands never left Shockwave’s cheeks, even as he stretched upward to hold them now.

“I have done terrible things, Blurr.”

“I know.”

“I have hurt you more than I can begin to imagine.”

“Mmhm.”

“And yet, you are still willing to stay by my side..?”

“Yep.”

It just didn’t make sense. Why… Optic glued to the floor, Shockwave raised a clawed hand, hovering it just above Blurr’s on his cheek. “Even as I so brazenly wear my shame…?”

“Of course, I’ll be here.” He gently pulled Shockwave’s head down closer. “I wanna give this a shot.”

Shockwave’s disbelief began to evaporate, taking with it much of the heavy weight in his spark. Shutting his optic, he leaned closer until their foreheads were touching. Gingerly and with some hesitation, he placed a hand over Blurr’s, wrapping the other behind the blue bot’s back. “I love you dearly, Blurr… Thank you.”

Blurr smiled, gently thumbing his partner’s cheeks again. “I love you too, Shockwave.” He giggled softly. “I’m excited I finally get to meet you.”

~~~~~~

Optimus had once again barely slept. What little rest he did manage to get was frequently interrupted by dreams of Megatron. Even as he lay awake, his body growing dangerously close to overheating, neither the Decepticon nor the rumors would leave his mind. He’d wasted the entire previous day crying and panicking alone in his room, even forgoing meeting with Bumblebee. His friend deserved to meet him in a stable state, far from what he was right now. Prime’s frame felt like it was on fire, and yet he shivered, curling up as small as he could atop his recharge slab. The hours of the morning crept on, edging closer to when he would need to drag himself to an unfortunately not canceled meeting.

That time arrived far too soon, and Optimus felt like death. His optics stung from crying and lack of rest, and his entire body, inside and out, felt like he’d been thrown into a furnace. His thoughts continued to torment him, bringing the poor mech to tears. What was wrong with him? Why did he feel like this? Why did it have to be him? All these questions and even more memories clawed at his processor as he tried to ignore the myriad of internal system alerts. He didn’t want to leave; he wasn’t sure he could even move! Could he really afford to miss another meeting, though? So much depended on him…or did it? How useful was he, really? All he really did was take notes sometimes. Shutting his optics tightly, Optimus tried in vain to fall asleep, his alerts now interrupted by messages from the other attendees concerning his whereabouts. He was late, his guilt growing worse with every passing minute. It’ll be fine. They’ll be fine. They can take their own notes… What’re you saying, Optimus?! Of course you need to be there! With much effort, he sat up on his slab and was immediately hit with a wave of dizziness. He felt sick so he closed his optics until it passed. Maybe I shouldn’t… No, no, I’m going. I have to do this for the sake of Cybertron. Hopping down, he had to pause again as a rush of fuel surged through his lines. Still a bit out of it, he shuffled to the door and down the hall, keeping close to the wall.

~~~~~~

After a lengthy walk, Optimus finally got to the meeting room. Despite the participants being in the midst of a discussion, he paid it no mind and climbed into his seat, the exertion causing another headrush. Keeping his head down, he opened up his datapad and began scrolling to find where the group was.

Prime’s late arrival didn’t go unnoticed by anyone. However, given how utterly ragged he looked, nobody said anything. Megatron, in particular, was very concerned. His attention immediately diverted, looking for the smallest indications of something being off with the Autobot, of which there were many. For starters, he was still looking down, which Megatron wasn’t a fan of. Second, he’d been late. That was entirely out of character for him, especially to this degree! The way he’d stumbled in wasn’t inspiring any confidence either, and the closer Megatron looked, the more certain he became that there was a faint heat distortion around the Autobot’s concerningly slumped frame.

“Lord Megatron? …Lord Megatron!” Shockwave called, looking leagues better since his discharge earlier that morning.

“Hm?” Megatron’s attention was unfortunately dragged away from Optimus.

“We have not received a shipment of fuel from the Autobots yet, and the veins we took from the Thraxians are already on the verge of going dry. Our current mining operations are not sustainable for the amount we need.”

“Have searches for alternative sources turned up anything?”

“Negative, my Liege. We have found a form of organic oil on a small exoplanet, though it is far more crude than even the sample I was brought from Earth.”

“Continue searching then. Widen your parameters if you have to. Even crude oils we can refine somewhat.”

Optimus had been paying attention as best as he could amidst all his alerts and mental whirlwinds. This discussion of fuel, however, perked up his finials. Glancing up towards the two speakers, his spark jumped upon seeing Megatron’s face again, causing yet another dizzy spell. It was just his side profile, why?! What’s wrong with me?! He swallowed, very thankful he hadn’t had breakfast. Ok ok ok, focus. Fuel shortage… Cybertron hasn’t delivered anything. Either they’re running out themselves, or the Council has bigger plans. If we had to move to organic fuel… He got a sample from Earth…? “I have contacts on Earth. I could reach out and try to make some sort of deal.”

Megatron turned, surprised and pleased to hear from Optimus during a meeting. What was arguably more surprising was how dark the circles under his optics were. Their glow and his paint looked more dull than normal, too. Focus! In this room, you are Megatron! You are a feared leader, show no weakness. “Please do so if you can. Make certain the Council does not learn of your plan, whether it fails or succeeds.”

There was a slight shuffling as everyone realized Megatron had just asked nicely for something and said ‘please.’ Optimus was just as surprised, looking away immediately as another wave of dizziness hit, making him teeter a bit. Politeness is the bare minimum, what’re you so worked up about? It’s nothing special, and neither is he! He…he looked at me again… He cleared his throat and looked back down at his datapad, teetering again.

Prime’s worsening condition didn’t go unnoticed by Megatron. “Is everything alright?”

“I’m fine,” he growled, “let’s just keep going.” Teetering again, Prime’s vision went dark for a second.

None of this sat well with Megatron. Pivoting fully in his seat, he faced Optimus, hands laced on the table. “I can not, in good conscience, continue proceedings while one of my present constituents is in poor health. I strongly urge you to-”

“Oh, shut up.”

Megatron blinked, caught extremely off guard. “Pardon?”

“Since when have you had a ’good conscience?!’ Since when have you given a single slag about anyone’s ‘poor health?’” Optimus struggled to stand on his giant chair, glaring down the table at a stunned Megatron.

“That is beside the point, Prime. How can you be expected to effectively participate if you are not of sound body or mind?”

Prime… Being called anything other than ‘Autobot’ should have been a joy. It was progress! But Optimus could only spin a negative from it right now. He wanted to like it and to be happy about it, but Megatron’s tone and barely masked concern grated on him, gnawing incessantly at his processor. “Oh, like you were last week? Don’t think none of us can’t still see where you beat the scrap out of the wall!” He whipped his hand over to point towards where Megatron had punched a hole previously, a small distortion still visible. Even that small motion made him teeter and black out for a second again.

“That is hardly important right now. As it stands, you are unwell, and I will have no qualms adjourning this meeting if it is what gets you to the medbay.”

“No, don’t you dare pause another meeting! We’ve been dragging this out far too long, and now we’re all closer to doom than we probably ever have been! I’m tired of watching everything fall apart, and I’m tired of not doing anything about it!” Prime’s vision was swimming as he tried in vain to stabilize it by shutting his optics. Nothing helped, but he wasn’t about to stop. “I don’t give a scrap if the Council isn’t gonna cooperate! If they don’t care, then it’s our job to make this right, and we can’t keep pushing it off!” By now, he was hyperventilating, the tears rolling down his cheeks evaporating almost immediately.

“Please, calm down, you’re overheating!” Megatron stood, glancing over his Generals. “I am calling a recess. We will reconvene later today.”

“NO! Don’t you dare stop this again, we can’t- …we can’t ….can…” His vision finally going dark, Optimus went into emergency shutdown, collapsing to the floor.

Within a second, Megatron was at his side and picking him up. Prime’s frame burned his hands; he was genuinely at a loss as to how the little bot had made it this far in this condition. “I will send a message to reconvene. For now, this meeting is adjourned.” Quickly but carefully, Megatron carried Optimus to the medbay, fearful he might be too late to fix whatever was wrong.

~~~~~~

Knockout was already busy with another patient when Megatron sped in, out of breath and looking more worried than the doctor had ever seen. Oh, slag. “Get him down on the empty table. Ratchet! Your Prime is here, and he’s a patient!”

The old doctor hurried out, more than a little concerned at Knockout’s tone. Concern turned to anger and worry when he saw Megatron laying his friend down. Grabbing his tools, Ratchet started hooking Optimus up to a plethora of machines, not so subtly bumping into the Decepticon. “What in Primus’ name did you do to him?!”

Megatron pulled back, his spark beating faster and faster. “I…I have done nothing! It was an ordinary morning meeting, and he collapsed. He showed up late with a fever and was uncharacteristically irritable.”

“I find that hard to believe, especially from you.” Optimus was quickly stabilized, with plenty of coolant being delivered intravenously. “Now. Wanna tell me why you-”

Ratchet had turned around to face the Decepticon but was instead greeted with a shocking sight. Megatron was on his knees by the medical bed, holding and gently rubbing Prime’s hand, a look of concern Ratchet had never thought possible from him painted on his face. The old doctor stopped dead in his tracks, trying to make sense of it. Should he step in and stop it? It didn’t look like Megatron was a danger right now, but it was still Megatron! Why was he acting like this, and with Optimus, of all bots? “...He’ll be fine here. We’ll take care of him.”

“Thank you.” Megatron sighed, squeezing Prime’s hand. “Call me when he wakes up. It will give me an ETA on rescheduling the remainder of the meeting.” His last sentence sounded ingenuine, like he was just saying it to satisfy some preconceived notion Ratchet had of him being cold and sparkless, and it was poorly done. Not that it matched his actions, either. Taking a few more seconds with Optimus, Megatron finally tore himself away and, with great reluctance, exited the medbay, leaving behind a very confused Ratchet, and a Knockout dreading the explanation he was certain he’d have to give.

Chapter Text

After the meeting had been paused, everyone left to do their own things, Blitzwing included. His first stop was back in his room. Finding it empty, he didn’t linger, going immediately to find Bumblebee. He wasn’t answering Blitzwing’s comms, which was a bit concerning. Normally, he was very punctual about that, answering in seconds. Showing no worry outwardly, Blitzwing continued his walk, checking any room he suspected the little bot to possibly be in. As he did, though, the sound of a speeding car rapidly approached from around a corner. In the blink of an eye, Bumblebee had run into him and knocked the Decepticon off-balance, sending Blitzwing onto his back. Bumblebee, too, didn’t fare much better. The impact had sent him flying up and flipping in the air a couple of times, transforming back to robot mode before landing square on Blitzwing’s chest.

“Are jou alright?” Blitzwing was concerned, though the coldness of his voice would never betray it.

Bumblebee lay dazed, head spinning and unable to form words.

Blitzwing slowly got up, keeping the little bot close to his chest. “Vould jou like to see a medic?”

The potential of going to Ratchet sobered him up real quick. Sure, Ratchet had witnessed their buffoonery once before and was certainly aware of the rumors, but Knockout had asked them to keep as much of it away from the old bot as they could. “Uh, no no, it’s fine! I’m fine!” Oh slag, he’s holding me again! …Guess I can’t really complain, though. It’s kinda nice. He’s so warm. …Huh. Why’s his spark beating so fast?

“Are jou certain? I want jou to be alright.” He spoke with a softness akin to the one he’d used on their date.

“Yep! Yep, I’m all good! I am A-Ok, my good bot!” Blitzwing’s tone turned Bumblebee into a flustered mess, his cheeks immediately turning red. “I uh… I think I just need a nap, that’s all!”

“Hm. Zhat does sound pleasant.” Blitzwing started walking back in the direction of his room, panicking Bumblebee further. He wasn’t sure whether or not he should protest. Maybe the guys in the mess hall were wrong, and this really was just part of Blitzwing’s game strategy! A not-insignificant part of him hoped it wasn’t fake. ‘You like him, and he really likes you.’ Do I? Does he? The more Bumblebee thought about it, the faster his spark beat. He’d been driving laps to try escaping his thoughts, but it obviously hadn’t worked. It was over the second he crashed into Blitzwing. Just as he’d realized where they were going and was about to protest, it was too late.

Blitzwing took a seat on the edge of his recharge slab, planting a couple soft kisses on Bumblebee’s helm. “Does anything hurt, my little bug?”

Bumblebee buried his reddening face in Blitzwing’s chest, shaking his head and answering with a muffled ‘no.’

The faintest smile curled the corners of the Decepticon’s mouth, and he delivered another kiss. Kicking his legs up, he scooted around a bit and reclined against the wall. “Did jou have a good morning?”

The talk he had in the cafeteria immediately came to mind. “Yep! Sure did. How uh…how was your meeting?”

“It vas fine. Zhe Prime fainted, but Lord Megatron made certain he was taken care of.”

“Wait, what?! Is Optimus ok?” Bumblebee shot up, his optics wide with worry.

“I assure jou, he is. Zhat medic of yours is taking care of him.”

“Oh. Uhm…ok.” He laid back down, snuggling into the larger bot’s frame.

“...Would jou like to visit him?”

“I… No, it’s fine. Ratchet’ll make sure he’s fine.” If he passed out, he’s probably still asleep anyway.

“Alright.” Blitzwing kissed him again, sliding down fully onto the bed.

Bumblebee cuddled closer, his mind full. No wonder Optimus didn’t wanna hang out, he really wasn’t feeling ok. But…if we had hung out, maybe last night woulda gone differently, and this morning too, and I wouldn’t be asking myself all these weird questions, and I wouldn’t be here in bed with a Decepticon! …He is pretty warm though…he always seems to be. ‘You like him, and he really likes you.’ Bumblebee bit his lip, further burying himself in Blitzwing’s frame.

Sensing something was off, the Decepticon held him close, gently rubbing his frame. He is talking less. Zhat is cause for concern. Zhen why don’t jou talk to him, jou imbecile?! Now, now jou two, zhere’s no reason to fight! Zhe Autobot is upset, we have to make him happy! He thinks this is a game, right? Make him happy! Blitzwing grimaced slightly. He hated the voices fighting in his head, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. But what to ask? What could they even talk about right now?

“Blitz?”

“Yes?” Whatever Bumblebee wanted to ask, he was glad it was at least something.

“...Do you…like this?”

“Vhat do jou mean?”

“I mean this. What we’re doing. Everything.”

“Yes.”

“Even if it’s…just a game?”

“...Yes.”

His spark jumped again. It’s just a game, Bee. It’s just a game. Those guys this morning don’t know what they’re talking about. “...Ok.”

Jou made it worse, jou imbecile! He is upset with jou! Vell, jou don’t know zhat for certain. It could just be about zhe Prime. Or perhaps he had some bad fuel today! How he wished the voices would shut up. “Jou don’t sound convinced.” Neither do jou, jou slag heap!

“Don’t worry about it…”

“Alright.” Is it really still just a game to him? Of course it is! He would never feel zhe way jou do! Ooooo, I like games! Quiet! If it’s a game, zhen we vill continue to play it. …It is the only way jou won’t scare him off… Blitzwing hesitated, unsure if he should push the issue. Maybe it would be better to leave it be. Maybe this would pass on its own. “My little bug…”

Bumblebee almost felt like he could cry. Blitzwing’s little pet names always made his spark flutter, whether he really meant them or not. Bumblebee hoped the former was true, as reluctant as he was to admit it, even to himself. Snuggling close, he fell into an uneasy sleep, lulled by Blitzwing’s deep spark beat.

~~~~~~

Optimus awoke in the late afternoon, feeling better but still not great. He had a terrible, dull headache and his whole frame ached, but at least his fever was down. His internal alerts were gone too, and there were thankfully no messages about the meeting. He breathed a sigh of relief, although a pang of dread reminded him that he would have to face the consequences of his little outburst sooner than later. Optimus closed his optics and rubbed his face despite some pain in his arms. Megatron was sure to be furious, especially with it happening in front of all his Generals. What am I gonna do?

“How ya feelin’, kid?” Ratchet sat nearby, working on patient reports. His voice was softer and more quiet, filled with concern.

“I’m fine…” He wasn’t.

“You sure? You weren’t when you got here.”

How did I get here? “I’m fine, Ratchet. Really.” Slowly, he managed to sit up.

“You coulda set a field on fire with how hot your frame was.” The old bot set his pad down and rolled closer. “What’s going on, Prime?”

“Nothing! I’m just…stressed with the meetings and everything.”

Ratchet paused and glanced away for a moment. “...You didn’t walk yourself here, you know.”

“Then how…?” Prime’s spark thumped, afraid he already knew the answer.

Ratchet didn’t immediately respond, unsure of how to do it or if he even should. Was it smart to mention how Megatron had acted when he’d been brought in? “...How’re you getting along with Megatron?”

Prime’s eyes widened, his spark rate noticeably spiking on the monitor he was hooked up to. “Enough to do our jobs.”

Ratchet sighed, leaning forward. “Optimus, whatever’s going on, you can tell me. I want you to be ok. Doubly so, I’m your friend and your doctor. Whatever it is, I’m not gonna be mad.”

Optimus clammed up, biting back his quivering lip as his optics began to water. “Nothing! It’s fine, nothing’s going on!”

Sighing, Ratchet reached to wipe his tears. “He brought you here, kid. I never thought it possible for him to be so worried.”

At this, the poor Prime broke down, burying his face as he began to sob. “I…I don’t know! I don’t know what to feel, or-or what to think, I don’t know what to do!”

“It’s ok, kid. Get it all out.” Ratchet hugged him as best as he could, rubbing his poor friend’s shoulder.

Prime’s frame jerked with every ragged breath, unable to form much beyond disconnected words. “I… He’s…nice! I don’t… I don’t know!”

Ratchet just stayed silent, letting him cry everything out. Even as Optimus latched on, crying into his frame, he continued to comfort the distraught mech.

After a while, Optimus had stabilized his breathing, sniffling. His optics felt raw and everything still hurt, but at least he could properly breathe now. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…”

“Don’t apologize, kid. It’s good to cry sometimes. …Did you wanna talk about it?”

Optimus was hesitant. “You won’t be mad?”

“I’m here to listen and to help you. My opinions don’t outweigh that.”

Whimpering, Optimus squeezed his friend closer. “...I don’t know why he’s being so nice to me…”

Ratchet could definitely hazard a guess, but kept it to himself.

“I like it…this better side of him. I like having someone to talk to the way we do, and having someone who shares my interests… I hate that I like it, and I hate that it’s him…”

“What is it you guys talk about?”

“History, ourselves, life…that kind of stuff…”

“It’d be different if it wasn’t him?”

“Yeah. …It wouldn’t be Megatron, but it wouldn’t be Megatron. …It’s complicated.”

“Yeah, that’s a tough one. You’ve been at each other's throats for ages, and now…now you’re being civil.”

“I don’t know why he’s being so nice to me! I…I like it… It feels nice…”

“What all’s he done? Besides talking.” The earlier hand-holding came to mind.

Prime’s chest tightened as he thought about it all. “Well…he’s… He’s brought me fuel a few times…nice, high-quality stuff. He’s carried me to my room when I’ve fallen asleep… He…he protected me at the trading outpost; he even bought me a gift there. He smiles, he laughs, he holds me, and…and I like it… All of it…”

Ratchet was quite certain he knew what this was, as much as he didn’t want to admit it to himself. “Do you think it’s wrong for either of you to feel like this?”

“I…I don’t know… I don’t know!”

“It’s ok, kid… It’s ok.” Ratchet kept him close, not once ceasing in his attempts at comfort. “...Do you feel like you’re in danger when you’re around him?”

“N-No, not at all! I…I feel safe with him, if anything.” As good a job as his friend was doing, Optimus was hit with a strong desire to be held by Megatron again. Stop it… Stop stop stop stop stop it! You want nothing to do with him!

“And that’s ok, Prime. You can’t help how you feel.”

“Why can’t I just hate him?! Things were easier that way!”

“Sometimes…Sometimes things get complicated. Things aren’t always black and white, as much as we wish they were.” The old bot sighed. “Try talkin’ to him about it. Might help a bit.”

Optimus shook his head. “I-I got mad, an-and I said some things…”

“If you’re worried he’ll be mad, I can guarantee he’s not. If he’s being as nice as you said, I don’t think there’s anything to worry about.”

“I said some bad stuff…”

“Then apologize. Don’t let the hurt keep sitting.”

“...I’m scared, Ratchet… What if I messed things up?”

“It’s gonna be ok. I know it.”

“How?”

“I’m old, Prime. I’ve seen a lot, it’s like an extra sense.”

Optimus still wasn’t certain of anything. So little made sense and so much of it was things he wouldn’t dare even think. One thing he was certain of, however, was that he’d messed up and that he had to face the consequences, one way or another. Maybe it would be better to do so on his own terms…

“It’s gonna be ok, kid. I’m always here for you if you need anything.”

“I know…” The uncertainty lingered, adding to the mess inside his mind. This was the final straw, I know it. Sniffling, he released the hug. “Thanks, Ratchet… Thanks for listening.”

“Anytime, Optimus. Now, lay back down, get some more rest. You need it.”

Optimus did as he was told, laying back down on the cold slab. It sapped so much warmth from his body, making him once again wish he was securely in Megatron’s embrace.

~~~~~~

Megatron had spent the better part of the day and into the next staring at a blank datapad and anxiously checking his comms. There was no news from either doctor so far about Prime’s condition or whether he’d woken up, and he was seriously debating going back to personally check, but that Autobot doctor probably wouldn’t appreciate it. Instead, he’d resigned himself to not knowing and writing an apology letter, which wasn’t going very well. He’d made exactly zero progress in the span of hours, writing and erasing everything he’d come up with. What could he even start with? There was so much to cover! He took a deep vent in and out, rubbing his face. I’m sorry for… For what? Starting a war? Splintering our race? Upsetting you? Killing your friend? …You messed up. You ruined everything. …He’d be happy if it weren’t for you. The more he thought, the worse it got. Several ‘I love you’s and ‘I’m sorry’s were written and scrapped, bringing him to tears. He wanted things to be ok. He wanted Optimus to be ok, above all, but at this point, he wasn’t sure how to fix things. An apology wouldn’t be enough. Nothing would be enough.

At that moment, he heard a quiet whoosh, making him look up. He didn’t immediately see anything, wiping the tears from his optics and glancing around again. Still seeing nothing, he got up from his desk to look around. Nothing was out of the ordinary until he neared the door. Right between it and the couch was a very small datapad, roughly big enough for an Autobot, that definitely hadn’t been there before. Curious, he picked it up. Upon being moved, the screen lit up, displaying a familiar message: The usual place at 8.

Joy flowed through Megatron. Optimus was awake! Stepping out into the hall, the Autobot was unfortunately gone, but the note was a good sign. For one reason or another, he wanted to meet again, and so soon! So soon…almost too soon. Fear replaced his elation as he immediately began to worry again. Why so soon? Was Optimus upset? Of course he is, and he has every right to be!

Trudging back to his desk, Megatron would spend the remainder of his time before their meeting anxiously running through every possible scenario, growing more nervous by the second as the hours wore on.

~~~~~~

“So. Care to explain to me what’s going on?” Ratchet sat with his arms crossed, his brow raised at Knockout.

“There’s nothing to explain, Ratchet. I’m not sure what you’re even talking about.” Knockout refused to look at the old bot, doing everything he could to stay busy.

It was late in the evening, and the pair were alone, mostly tidying up and finishing reports. Ratchet had several burning questions about what he’d seen from Megatron and heard from Optimus, and if anyone had answers, it was Knockout, a known gossip enjoyer and Megatron’s doctor.

“Don’t give me that, I know somethin’s going on. I might be old, but I’m not stupid.”

“Honestly, Ratchet, I don’t know anything.”

“Really? Nothing? It’s not like Megatron’s your patient or anything. Oh, wait, he is!”

“Whatever you think is happening with Megatron is none of your concern. He’s my patient, and what he discusses with me is confidential.”

“Well, Optimus is my patient, and this is very much a matter of concern in his regard. So let me rephrase my question: what reason does your patient have for holding my patient’s hand?”

Knockout’s spark skipped a beat. How much did Ratchet know? “...Pardon?”

“Maybe you missed when Megatron brought him in yesterday, you were workin’ on that other guy. I get Optimus hooked up, I turn around, and what do I see? Megatron, kneeling next to him, holding his hand!”

Knockout had missed that interaction, but its contents didn’t surprise him, given what he knew. “It’s hardly appropriate for me to disclose the private lives of my patients.”

“It’s a problem when it’s affecting another patient! Like it or not, if something’s this much of an issue, it’s your job to help fix it!” He took a deep vent in, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. I uh…got carried away there.”

“No, you’re fine. I understand your concern.” Knockout sighed and took a seat himself, leaning back and staring up at the ceiling.

Ratchet leaned back too, crossing his arms again. “...Poor kid was distraught when he woke up. He’s so tired with everything going on back home, and those meetings… Real confused about Megatron, too. Apparently, he’s started being ‘friendly,’ and I wouldn’t’ve believed it, had I not seen it. I have an idea of what’s going on, and I hope I’m wrong, but…somethin’ tells me I’m right.”

Knockout hesitated to give a straight answer. “What do you think is going on, then?”

The old doctor sighed. “...He’s got a thing for Optimus.”

Knockout wanted to melt away into nothing and was doing a terrible job hiding it.

“...I hate being right.” Ratchet closed his optics, strongly considering taking a walk out of an airlock right about now.

The two medics sat in awkward silence for a while, neither really wanting to be the one to break it. There were so many questions in need of answering, but where to start?

Ratchet was the first to speak up. “...So, waddo we do?”

“I don’t know…” Knockout sounded exasperated. “I’ve worked under Lord Megatron for quite some time, and I have to be honest…I’ve never seen him in such high spirits. Whatever Prime’s doing with him, it’s been working wonders.”

“And what about Optimus? He’s not in very ‘high spirits’ over this. …Scrap, does Optimus even know?”

“Whether he knows, I really have no answer. He must at least have suspicions, otherwise why would he be this worked up about it?”

“Poor kid… Should we tell him?

“I…don’t think we should. If he knew and rejected him, it could push Megatron back, strip away any progress he’s made on himself and on this…this peace treaty thing.”

“But what about Optimus? He deserves to be happy and comfortable just as much.”

Knockout leaned forward, rubbing his face. “It’s a tricky situation. …Let’s keep an eye on them for a bit. Who knows, maybe it’ll clear up on its own. They do seem to get along well enough when they meet for their little private talks.”

Ratchet wasn’t convinced, but it was a fragile situation. He knew Megatron was volatile, but he hoped Knockout was right. Still, he worried for Optimus. “Well, you know me, and I don’t like this one bit. If I suspect Optimus is in even the slightest bit of danger, I won’t hesitate to do a number on Megatron.”

“No, I agree. I don’t want any harm to come of this, one way or another, but if things really come to that, I won’t hold you back.” Not that he believed Ratchet could do much against the towering mech.

“Thanks. It’s nice to have someone with sense around.”

Knockout could cry at receiving that compliment. His mentor thought he was sensible! “I’ll make you proud!” He beamed, clasping his hands.

“Hehe. You already are, kid.”

Again, Knockout felt like he could cry.

Ratchet vented a deep sigh, relaxing a bit. “So, who all else knows?”

“So far, just me, you, and Megatron. Plenty of others are talking, but for them, it’s just rumors.”

“Then we’re gonna keep it that way. I’d hate to think what consequences something like this could have.”

Knockout nodded in agreement. He felt a bit guilty for disclosing such personal information his leader had entrusted him with, but at least Ratchet was a fellow medical professional. “This all stays between us.”

“Agreed. My lips are sealed.”

“I don’t even remember what we were talking about,” Knockout smirked, turning back to his work.

“That’s the spirit, kid.” Chuckling, Ratchet did the same, although his worry would not subside in the slightest.

Chapter Text

Optimus had intended to leave early for the meetup he’d requested, but he’d run into a problem: he was indecisive. He’d been discharged from the medbay and gone back to his room, his plan originally being to leave a couple hours early, but every time he’d walked a distance, something would take over and he’d backtrack a bit. It was a constant back and forth every few minutes, with several lengthy pauses to consider if seeing Megatron so soon was a good idea. As much as he wanted to go back to his room, the idea of not showing up or canceling made him feel guilty.

After over an hour of this, he finally made it to the lower deck and was slowly approaching the little observation room. Being early would give him some time to collect himself and calm down before what he dreaded would be another terrible experience. Standing before the door, he closed his optics and swallowed. Maybe Megatron wouldn’t be mad. Maybe he wouldn’t want to talk about what happened, or maybe he wouldn't be here at all! But that was probably too much to hope for. Either way, Optimus had to fix this. Shaking out some of his nerves, he pushed the door open. His spark fell immediately as a dark shape and a pair of red optics turned to face him from near the window.

Megatron had the same idea to arrive early, and with the same reasons as Optimus. He’d wanted to collect his thoughts and had made an attempt to rehearse what he wanted to say, although that all evaporated the second he heard the door creak open. His spark raced as he laid his eyes on Optimus, quickly noticing, even in the dark, how extremely tense he looked.

Scrap, why’s he here early?! Did he want to catch me off-guard or something? Is it a power play? Optimus froze in the doorway, looking down the second the pair made eye contact. Taking a shallow breath, he scurried over to the couch and hopped up as close as he could to the armrest, all the while keeping his eyes averted.

Megatron’s words caught in his throat as he stood opposite the Autobot, fairly tense himself. His optics darted around Prime’s frame, noticing every detail that was off: the tension, his fidgeting, how he was hiding his eyes… And all of it was certainly Megatron’s fault. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, however, he was cut off.

“I’m sorry.”

The words immediately caught in Megatron’s throat again. He was completely caught off guard. What could Optimus possibly be apologizing for? And so quickly, not even a hello or anything to start with.

“My behavior yesterday was uncalled for. I was completely out of line. A meeting room is no place to take out my frustrations like that, I know. I-I don’t know what came over me, but it’ll never happen again, I swear it.” His voice quivered and he wiped his eyes, a dead giveaway to his onlooker.

“No, no please, don’t apologize, you have done no wrong. If anyone should be doing so, it is me.” Megatron was quickly with him, kneeling before Optimus but hesitant to do much more. “Tensions have been high, and you have every right to feel frustrated. I realize I have been placing too much on you, and for that, I am sorry.”

Optimus could feel the heat radiating from Megatron. He wanted to reach out and grab him, but- No, nononono, why’s he doing this?! Focus, dammit! Stop crying! “Why?”

“Hm?”

“Why’re you apologizing? Why’re you sorry?! You’ve never been sorry for anything!”

Megatron glanced away, feeling a strong twinge of shame. “I am the cause of much of your suffering. I can never atone for the harm I have wrought, but…perhaps, in some small way, this will mean something.”

Optimus shook his head in disbelief. “Since when have you even slightly cared about anyone but yourself?”

“I…I have no excuse for my past behaviors, but I can assure you, I have nothing but the best intentions for my people and yours.”

“Why do you care what happens to us?! Let the Autobots die out; we’d be out of your way forever, and you’d be free to do whatever you want!”

“That would not be fair to either side. …I understand you have no reason to believe me, but I promised to see this through to the end, and I intend to hold myself to that. For the Decepticons, for the Autobots, and for you.”

Prime’s frame jerked as he curled into his chest, hands covering his face. “Why…why’re you being nice?”

Because I love you. “Because I want to.”

“Why?! Why now, and not from the start?!”

Memories of his earliest torment flashed through Megatron’s processor in the blink of an eye. “I want to be better. You make me want to be better.” Carefully, he cupped the smaller bot’s cheek and tilted his head up, thumbing away his tears. “Please believe me when I say this, Optimus, having you here has been a blessing from the very start.”

He took in a sharp, shaky breath, optics wide. “You…you said my name…”

Megatron looked shocked for a brief moment. The name had just slipped out. He hadn’t been paying attention and hadn’t exactly intended to say it, but…it felt nice to say it out loud again, and to its owner, no less. Surprise gave way as a soft smile spread over the Decepticon’s face. “A name as perfect as the mech it was given to is impossible to forget.”

Perfect..? Me? Optimus raised a shaky hand, placing it carefully over top of Megatron’s on his cheek. His shoulders jerked up as he bit his lip, trying to fight back the tears he knew were coming. Megatron was only inches away. They were touching, for Primus’ sake! His spark beat faster and faster the longer he looked at the bigger bot; his gentle smile and eyes, his weathered face, the little creases and nicks, they were all there, just as he remembered. Prime’s mind screamed to reach out and touch him more, his spark desperately trying to do so already. A small squeak escaped as he barely kept his urges intact. “D-... Don’t say that…”

“I speak only the truth…Optimus Prime.” It felt so good to say it again.

Optimus Prime… His spark jumped. Optimus Prime… It jumped harder. A name as perfect as the mech it was given to… He felt like his spark was trying to jump up his throat. Prime’s breathing became more shallow as the tears started to fall again, impossible to hold back anymore. “Hold me… Tell me everything’s ok, even if it’s a lie!”

Megatron’s smile had shifted to concern and pity, but he did as he was told. Carefully scooping Optimus off the couch, he nestled the smaller bot in his lap, his knees up and cradling him, just like that night in the alley. “I have no wish to lie to you…” He kept Prime close, gently rubbing his arm. “Everything will be alright. …I promise you that.”

Optimus cried, burying his face in Megatron’s chest as he clung on tight. He was happy to finally be back in the warm embrace he’d desired. The safety and comfort felt incredible, but there was still a heavy guilt and something else he didn’t dare put a name to. As time wore on, Megatron’s attempts to calm him were proving to be quite effective. Prime’s tears had all but stopped, only sniffling now. He shifted around a little, readjusting nicely into the crook of Megatron’s arm. “You wanna…tell me some more about myself?”

That got a chuckle out of the Decepticon. “What would you like to know?”

“Whatever you want to say.”

Megatron took a moment to consider. “Well, I suppose we could start with your infectious curiosity. The way you speak about history, and astronomy, and even the most mundane of things is an utter delight to witness. The way your optics light up when you take in new information, or how you bury your face in a datapad… You could talk on and on about something endlessly, and I would gladly listen just as long. I enjoy every moment of discussion we share, and I dare say, I look forward to our little meetups.”

A smile began to bloom on Prime’s face as he listened. A pleasant feeling spread from his spark through the rest of his body, helping him relax. “Oh? I didn’t realize you thought so highly of me.”

“Speaking with you is the highlight of my evenings. …It’s nice to have someone to share my thoughts with.”

“It really is…” That checks… He wouldn’t have many close confidants, being so high-up. “And…I’m your top choice for that?”

“But of course. You’re an odd little Autobot.”

“Uh-uh, not Autobot. I want you to say my name.”

Megatron smiled wide. “You truly are something incredible, Optimus Prime.”

Feeling pretty good now, he flipped on his back to have a better view of Megatron’s face. A smile looks good on him… “Incredible, huh? Tell me more.”

Megatron gazed down at him, admiring the little bot. His optics were glowing that beautiful, bright blue again, highlighting his rounder complexion and full lips. Carefully, he stroked Prime’s cheek with a finger, trailing it up his finial and eliciting a small flick from it. You precious little thing. I adore you with every glimmer of my spark. “Hmm… I suppose you are somewhat skilled in combat.”

Optimus raised an eyebrow. “Really? Somewhat?” He asked flatly. “I’ve beat you more times than you’ve beat me.”

“Mmmm… I would check your math on that.”

“Oh, I did. I’ve been keeping track, and I’ve definitely got you beat. Maybe you’re just…getting old. Your memory isn’t what it used to be.” He sighed, playfully poking at Megatron’s chest.

“Oh, I’m hurt, Prime.” Megatron faked a pout. “I was going easy on you. I could beat you any day with both hands tied behind my back.”

“That sounds like a challenge to me. Maybe a friendly rematch is in order soon.”

“It would be my pleasure.” He stroked Prime’s cheek again, the blush on the Autobot’s face not going unnoticed. Perhaps someday, you will know…

Optimus leaned into his touch this time, allowing himself to enjoy the physical pampering and the compliments. “For what it’s worth…you’re not too bad yourself.” His blush intensified. “In a fight, I mean.”

“Oh, do tell.” He smirked, lounging back.

“You handle yourself really well when things get heated. I don’t know how you stay so calm, but it’s a good skill to have. You dual-wield like a master, and your flying? Impeccable. I could only hope to move that smoothly.”

Megatron’s spark fluttered at receiving a compliment as such. “Now, don’t discount your own skills. You have flown before and quite well. For a ground frame, at least.”

“Heh. Yeah, I guess I’m not too bad.” Prime’s anxiety began to grow at the thought of flying again. That last time with the jetpack had been intense for a number of reasons. The more he thought about it, the more his smile faded. A fluke…a heat of the moment, lucky accident. …I couldn’t save them all, in the end. …I’m sorry, Prowl. Optimus turned away, averting his gaze from Megatron. His guilt had returned, and stronger than earlier. Here he was, spending and enjoying time with arguably the worst mech in the universe. With his friend’s killer! Although, Optimus wasn’t blameless in that either. “I…I’m sorry, I should go.”

Megatron cocked his head, brow slightly furrowed. “Is everything alright?”

Optimus stopped in the middle of wiggling out of Megatron’s grasp. He should leave, he knew it, but did he really want to? Was it even a good idea to disclose anything to him anyway? His concern felt real, but there was still lingering apprehension. Slowly, Optimus lowered himself back into the cradle of Megatron’s arm and nestled back into the warmth, his spark racing. “...It’s… It’s nothing.”

He was very unconvinced. Optimus was a terrible liar, even by Autobot standards. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No.” Not unless you can bring him back. Closing his optics, Optimus hid his face in the bigger bot’s frame, hoping it would stifle any tears.

Megatron stroked the side of Prime’s helm, tightening his hold. An upset Optimus was never good, and it did weigh on him. He had a feeling this was his fault in some way, which it almost certainly was, so he began running through a mental list of everything he’d ever done to wrong Optimus. It was proving to be a very, very long list. He’ll never forgive you. You would not deserve it if he did.

“...I miss him…” A muffled sniffle came from down where Optimus was nuzzled in.

Him? Who’s…? Oh, scrap… Megatron’s optics widened, realizing where this was going, and surprised that it would even be mentioned to him. He opened his mouth to speak but couldn’t find the right words.

“...Prowl was…a good bot. I…” He inhaled sharply, unable to go further.

“...I have no doubt he was a good friend to you. And…I am truly sorry I took him away.”

Optimus forced his sobs back, clinging desperately to Megatron’s frame. His crying was muffled by the bigger bot, but not by much. It hurt to think about Prowl so vividly, and it hurt to cry; it was like violently ripping open a wound that had never really healed, his tears only serving to burn it further. It was beyond confusing, too. Here he was, crying his eyes out to the mech responsible for the death of the subject of his current emotional distress, and that same mech was apologizing for it. Despite Megatron’s niceties, it still didn’t make sense. To top it off, it was just embarrassing to be crying again. But, however much Optimus might’ve wanted to, the tears wouldn’t stop.

Megatron teared up as well, though he was able to contain it better. Holding Optimus as close as he could, he leaned forward, curling the distraught bot into a warm, dark cocoon. “I’m so sorry, Optimus… I wish I could take it all back.”

He couldn’t respond. Prime’s frame heaved with every sharp breath and cough, his processor too muddled to even think properly. It took a good few minutes before he started to quiet down, mostly because he was just exhausted from the physical strain of it all. His shallow, gasping breaths began to steady, interrupted by shudders and hiccups. “You… It’s… It’s your fault…” And mine… He didn’t dare look Megatron in the face.

“I know… You have every right to blame me and to hold me accountable… Were there a way to change things, I would in a sparkbeat.”

That did little to comfort the poor Autobot. Empty platitudes are all it was, right? Megatron would never care about anything but himself and his own gain, so why bother apologizing? Sincerity was unlike him, but it was definitely there and becoming more and more common.

“Tell me about him.” Megatron was prompted to ask by his guilt over literally everything, including the fact that he didn’t know the names of his crush’s allies. He immediately realized he could’ve phrased the question better or not asked at all, considering Optimus had just finished pouring his spark out.

The suddenness of it wasn’t lost on Optimus. The slightest mention or thought of Prowl made a knot in his chest, and Megatron wanting to know about what he’d considered ‘insignificant’ Autobots for so long was certainly odd. Optimus wasn’t sure what to do, but maybe this is what Ratchet meant by ‘talking?’ He sniffled, taking a few more silent moments to contemplate. “He… Prowl was amazing. …He was reserved, yes, but…he was compassionate, and determined, and had such a deep love for the organic nature of Earth. He was really smart too, and really skilled in a fight… He was a great teammate, and a better friend.”

Megatron vividly remembered losing an arm to him. He could feel where it had been sliced off but couldn’t really disagree anymore that he didn’t deserve it.

“Had things been different…I think you two would’ve gotten along…” It was strange and confusing to admit, but he felt like there was some truth to it.

Could we have? Megatron wasn’t too sure about that. Prowl was an Autobot, after all, but so was Optimus. …Perhaps… “I wish I had taken that opportunity. To make things different.”

Optimus hesitated, feeling his emotions bubbling again. He opened his mouth but withheld from saying anything. Don’t make this worse again.

“Speak your mind, Optimus. It’s high time I listen.” Clearly, there were still things left unsaid.

He…wants me to ridicule him? Prime’s emotions outweighed his apprehension, though his uncertainty was present in the faint quivers in his speech. “You should’ve taken that opportunity. You had every chance to stop fighting us, to end your war and your selfish grab for power, but you didn’t. You’ve ruined the lives of countless thousands and probably ended the lives of even more.” His hand twitched, balling into a fist. “How can you live with yourself, knowing what you’ve done?!”

“I must agree. …I should have acted sooner.” Something about Prime’s words struck a chord with Megatron. “I have…considered not living with it.”

Optimus froze. What did that mean? Had he… Optimus didn’t want to think about it, but Megatron’s tone had changed significantly. He’d sounded so hollow saying that, it was uncomfortable. Venting out, he relaxed, his voice softening. “I’m sorry. …I didn’t mean to open another wound.”

“It’s quite alright. …These things need to be said.”

Optimus still wasn’t sure he believed that. “...You said you were a pacifist. Life was unfair and broke you, but…you still had that choice…didn’t you?”

“I did.”

“So…what changed?”

“...I lost my way…” Megatron’s voice was a shaky whisper, barely holding back his own emotions. His mistreatment and attempted murder, his own attempts on his life, his regret, and a disgusting mess of memories threatened to burst forth with every passing second.

Unsure of what to do, Optimus decided to do nothing. Every word and action of his seemed to make things worse once again. What could he do? Megatron was being so raw and open with him and sharing such personal things, and he had no answer.

All the while, Megatron continued gently stroking Prime’s helm. “I will set things right.” He felt tears beading in the corners of his optics. “...I would do anything to see you happy again.”

Optimus dared to peek out the tiniest bit, accidentally catching his optics. He’s…crying again..? And in front of me?

Megatron immediately looked away, blinking. As he did, a tear fell from his eye onto Prime’s frame, making the smaller bot flinch.

Optimus squeezed his eyes shut as the drop hit but quickly reopened them as he relaxed. Looking back up at Megatron, he did, in fact, have tears slowly streaming down his face, fruitlessly attempting to hide and wipe them. Despite everything, Optimus felt an odd sense of pity for him. A pulling in his spark prompted him to prop himself up and reach out, brushing away a trickle of hot tears before cupping Megatron’s cheek and carefully guiding the Decepticon’s gaze back towards him. His optics were soft and full of remorse, tears still glistening in their corners.

Megatron couldn’t believe what was happening. He was crying in front of Optimus, and yet the Autobot didn’t seem to mind. Even after this mess of a talk, he was comforting the guilty party. There’s no way this wasn’t some cruel, cosmic joke, but Megatron hardly cared anymore. This darling little mech was touching him, and he reciprocated, placing a shaky hand over the one on his cheek. I love you… “I do not deserve this. I do not deserve your kindness, or so much as your presence in my life, but I swear I will do everything in my power to set things right.”

“...Ok…” A barely perceptible smile crept into the corners of Prime’s mouth. He blinked slowly, his optics already half-closed and heavy. Megatron didn’t deserve this…but, maybe those apologies and promises meant something. They’d all sounded genuine, and he had been putting in effort to make things work. He’d been acting better, nicer, and less angry too… It was admirable.

Optimus found himself once again admiring Megatron’s features. His sharp cheeks and jawline, crimson optics, and every little dent and divot were somehow much easier to look at with the Decepticon’s change in personality. Optimus found himself repeatedly running a finger over one such indent, not realizing he was doing so until Megatron cracked a smile.

“You really are remarkable.” Megatron turned his head, bringing Prime’s hand close to his lips. As much as he wanted to, though, he couldn’t bring himself to kiss it.

Optimus immediately clammed up, his blush apparent even in the dark. The gentle rumble of Megatron’s voice was very pleasant and coupled with the compliment, and that little action made his spark race. He was in an absolute panic. Should he say something? Pull back? Push further? Why was he feeling like this?! “Are uh… Why don’t we go get some fuel? I’m uh… I’m feeling a bit empty.” Sweet Primus, why are you stuttering?!

“As a matter of fact,” Megatron moved Optimus a little and pulled out a couple of cubes from his subspace, “I already thought of that.”

Prime’s blush intensified upon seeing the familiar pink glow. He swallowed, mouth already watering as he remembered its incredible flavor and aroma. He tried glancing away and pretending like he wasn’t eager to have it again but was doing a poor job of it.

You precious little thing. Megatron chuckled, handing one to the blushing bot. “No need to be shy. I know you like these.”

“So I was right! It was you!” Optimus grinned, sitting up fast.

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you speak of.” Smirking, Megatron turned away and sipped his cube.

“Mmhm, sure. Whatever you say.” This all but confirmed that all the other cubes had been from him. Lounging back, Prime took a sip himself. As soon as the decadent floral notes hit his tongue, a comfortable warmth radiated from deep inside him, relaxing his frame further. Wiggling some, he got more comfortable, fitting into the space between Megatron’s arm and frame like a puzzle piece. Optimus leaned against his chest, really taking in the sound of his sparkbeat. It was slow, deep, and rhythmic; overall very pleasant to listen to. He found himself being lulled to sleep but fought to stay awake, doing so by inspecting Megatron’s face from this new, lower angle. If Optimus was being honest, he looked just as nice from down here. The hard edge of his jawline was somehow even more defined by what little light there was in the room. The bridge of his nose was straight and narrow, flowing seamlessly into his forehead, highlighted by his beautiful optics-

Optimus blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of his thoughts. He had no idea where they’d come from. They’d just kind of drifted in on his river of consciousness. He didn’t really try pushing them back this time, instead letting them linger. It felt kind of nice…

Minutes wore on in silence as the pair simply sat together, basking in the calmness of each other’s presence. Optimus continued to watch Megatron, taking note of all his little behaviors. The angle he tilted his head back to drink, how expressive he was while thinking, and how he licked his lips between sips were of particular note. It was nice, and, he dare say, a bit endearing. Optimus found himself being particularly drawn to his lips, taking constant, frequent glances back at them. They were as sharp and well-sculpted as the rest of his features, a perfect match. “Hey.”

“Hm?” Megatron tilted his head down at his speaker.

“Come here.” Optimus extended a hand, beckoning him down.

Megatron froze for a moment, his cheeks flushing, but quickly did as he was told, leaning down closer.

Optimus reached out, cupping the Decepticon’s cheek and pulling him closer. He could hear and feel Megatron’s spark beating faster, his own increasing as well. He was so close now, Optimus could see even the smallest of facial imperfections clearly as they were bathed in the red light of his optics. That light cascaded over Optimus too, masking his own intense blush. Megatron’s lips were right there, slightly parted and perfectly positioned. ‘You’re like, a thing! A pair! A couple!’

“Y-You got something right there.” Thinking quickly, Optimus rubbed his thumb over a spot near the corner of Megatron’s mouth. “A bit of your drink. …I-I got it off.”

Stunned at what had almost happened, Megatron pulled back up, clearing his throat. “Thank you. …I appreciate it.”

The two quickly looked away from each other, neither really wanting to acknowledge the situation for their own reasons. Both were absolutely red in the face, their sparks racing.

Ohhhh sweet Primus, what was that?! What was I thinking, asking him like that?! Why was I looking at his mouth anyway?! Was I..? No, no nononono, definitely not. …But why do his eyes have to be such a nice shade of red?!

We… Did we almost..? Primus on High, give me the strength to restrain myself. One more thing, and I’ll be kissing him until he suffocates.

More time passed, and the awkwardness began to subside, with the two bots slowly returning to their drinks.

Clearing his throat, Optimus set aside his drink. “Hey, uhm…can I ask you something?”

Megatron’s spark jumped. “Of course.”

Rummaging through his subspace, Optimus pulled out a rather dull-looking rock. “The hydrocrystal you bought me, it uh…it kind of lost its color. You know more about these than me, so I figured I might as well ask.”

Gingerly taking it, Megatron twirled it around in his hand to inspect it. “Have you been watering it?”

“...What?”

“Pharxian hydrocrystals need to be periodically placed in water to maintain their color and sheen. …I suppose I forgot to mention that.”

“Uh…yeah. Maybe.”

“Bring it with you when we go to Earth. You can rehydrate it there.” Megatron handed back the crystal, taking notice of Prime’s mixed expression.

“We’re…going back to Earth? B-But I haven’t even called anyone there to ask if we could, or if a trade deal would even be possible! Oh man, what’ve I been doing all day? I’ve wasted so much time I could’ve used to do that instead, but…” He trailed off and hushed, moving his ramblings inside his processor.

“Perhaps you have not reached out as of yet, but I have little doubt it will yield results. Those ‘humans’ are quite fond of you Autobots and seem more than willing to help you. …Although, their willingness may lessen if they knew it would be to the aid of Decepticons.”

Optimus sighed, wiggling back into his comfy arm crook. “That’s a good point. My friends there are nice, though. I’m sure they’d understand with how dire the situation is.”

“Perhaps.” Megatron had worries about the Council finding out about this plan to secure a new energy source, but perhaps now wasn’t the time to voice them. The lighter mood had finally started to return, and he wanted to make it last as long as he could. “But, I have a good feeling this will turn out alright.”

“Yeah…yeah, I think you’re right.” Optimus smiled softly, placing a hand on Megatron’s chest as he snuggled deeper in. “It’s gonna be ok.” His optics felt so heavy now. It was a struggle to keep them open, but he wanted to look at Megatron just a bit longer. After a few minutes, however, it was clear this was a losing battle. Optimus flipped onto his side, facing the large, warm bot who had continued to hold him through these long hours. Megatron’s sparkbeat had returned to normal by now, too, it's even pulse lulling Optimus closer and closer to sleep with each passing second. He yawned, glancing up sleepily.

“Getting tired?”

“Not at all.” He yawned again. “...Let’s stay here for a bit…I’m not ready to go yet…”

“How can I turn down such a request?” He ran a gentle finger over Prime’s cheek and finial again, getting another little flick from him. I love you with my entire being.

Minutes flew by, numerous and uncounted. Lying like this, nestled in the arms of someone big and warm, felt more right to Optimus than it ever had. The low, steady hum of the distant engines harmonized so perfectly with the deep beating of Megatron’s spark, beckoning Optimus away from the waking world. As valiantly as he fought, his need to sleep soon won out. “Good night…Megatron…” He curled up, greedily trying to keep as much heat between them as he could, and exhaled softly.

“Good night, Optimus. May your mind be filled with only pleasant dreams.”

Megatron watched as Prime’s venting grew slow and stable the deeper he fell into recharge and soon found himself drifting too. Like Optimus, he fought to stay awake, wanting to spend just a little more time together before they had to part. Just one more minute…then I will carry him back to his room. With each passing moment, he grew more and more weary but never once moved to leave, caressing Optimus as he too slipped into recharge, with only the faint stars outside as witness to their tender, private moments.

Chapter Text

Prime’s optics fluttered open, sticking a bit as he blinked the sleep from them. It was dark, as always, but he immediately realized he was still in the little observation room, and very warm. It took another couple of seconds for his processor to catch up, but once it did, he was pleased to find himself still snugly in Megatron’s arms. For the first time in ages, he felt well-rested, however, as soon as he checked the time, he damn near jumped through the ceiling. It was early afternoon already!

“Ah, you’re awake.” Megatron smiled down at him, speaking softly. “Did you rest well?”

“I-I did, but I slept way too long. It’s way past any reasonable waking time, I have so much to do today! I gotta finish a report from the last meeting- Wait, I can’t even do that, I missed the rest of it. Was there a meeting scheduled for today? Oh man…” He rubbed his face, the pressure in his lines already increasing.

“It sounds to me like you were in need of a long rest.” Megatron caressed his cheek, eliciting a little blush. “Don’t worry about the meetings, everything has been taken care of for today. Take some time for yourself, you have more than earned it.”

Optimus wanted to protest but figured there would be no point; Megatron was sure to protest right back. As he started to nestle back in place, he realized he may have overstayed his welcome with how late it was and by keeping Megatron here. “I’ll…go back to my room then. I’m sure you have things you need to work on.”

“Not particularly. In fact, I gave the entire ship the day off. Everyone has been in need of it for some time.”

“I-... Really? That’s awfully generous, for you at least.”

Megatron shrugged. “I felt good this morning.”

Optimus was still hesitant to get comfortable again. “Whatever your plans are, don’t feel like you have to stay here. I’m kinda surprised you didn’t take me to my room earlier.”

“I enjoy our time together, even if we are not awake.”

Megatron’s tone and gentle actions had some kind of strange power over Optimus, and he couldn’t help but relax. Nestling back into the crook of the bigger bot’s arm, he took a deep vent out as the warmth began to return. Prime’s smile returned as he gazed up at Megatron, again inspecting his face. Hm. Not bad. Not bad at all…

“Now, what are you looking at?” Megatron smirked.

“Mm…nothing.”

“Very well, then. Keep your secrets.” He tapped Prime’s nose, taking notice of the obvious blush that began to spread over the little bot’s cheeks.

Optimus was flustered and confused at how much his spark was churning. It was just a tap on the nose, it shouldn’t make him feel like this! Make me feel like what?.. No. No, no, no, I can’t. It wouldn’t be right. He’s done far too much harm, why would I even consider that?! Don’t let this ‘nice’ Megatron fool you. You know him enough to know this won’t last, anyway. His smile faded, but despite his inner turmoil, he just snuggled further in.

Saying nothing, Megatron started gently rubbing his thumb over Prime’s cheek. He was upset about something, but what’s the point in prodding? Megatron vented out and leaned back. Just as he did, however, something bright flew by the window. Then another something, then another. “Optimus…look outside.” He stood, keeping a snug hold of the Autobot as he got close to the window.

Looking out into the dark void, Optimus didn’t immediately see anything. Suddenly, another bright streak flew past, startling him. Shaking it off, he looked closer as more started to pass by. “Are those…asteroids? How’re they burning out there?”

“Small ones, it seems. I suspect the heat from the ship’s hull is causing them to burn as they fly past.”

“Huh. So, they’re shooting stars in space?”

“Precisely.” Megatron hesitated for a moment. “I recall an Earth tradition. One of wishing on falling stars. I am uncertain if this could be considered the same, but…”

“No harm in giving it a shot.” Optimus smiled up at him again, placing a hand on Megatron’s chest. He could feel and hear the Decepticon’s spark beat faster, and the way Megatron looked back down at him sent Prime’s spark fluttering as well.

It was taking all of Megatron’s willpower to not kiss him right now. “No harm…” He gazed back into the darkness before them, making his silent wish of diplomatic success, and a cautious hope of reciprocated feelings.

Listening to the steadying beat of his companion’s spark, Optimus made his own wish of a successful and prosperous treaty. His spark felt tight as he watched the glimmering trails streak by. A feeling he didn’t want to name was nagging at him, pulling him closer to Megatron and refusing to let up. At the passing of a particularly bright asteroid, he made a wish for some resolution to what he was feeling and the hope that it, too, would end well.

“Let’s…stay here for a while… Just us.” Maybe he’s right… Maybe things will be ok.

“I like that idea. It sounds like a wonderful way to spend a day off.”

As the minutes passed, the shower of glowing debris began to slow down and eventually petered out. Both bots were at peace now and greatly enjoying each other’s company. The silence was beautiful, matching the pair’s blossoming feelings.

~~~~~~

Despite having the day off, Shockwave was working. He usually spent his time in his office writing, editing, sending, and collecting reports, but since nobody else was working, there was nothing new for him to do. So, he tried to keep himself busy by re-reading things from the previous week to check for any mistakes he may have overlooked. There were, of course, no mistakes since he’d been the one to look them over in the first place, so he just kept going over them again and again and again. With each passing hour, he slouched further and further until he was practically lying on his desk, his optic stuck on one sentence and unable to move on, like a broken record. Shockwave swore he could feel his processor liquifying the longer this went on. He just wanted something to do! Some new reports! Anything!

Like an answer to his pleas, a fast knock came from the door. Shockwave sprang up with a sudden burst of energy. Finally, something to keep him occupied! Composing himself, he opened the door, only to find Blurr on the other side, looking up at him.

Shockwave’s spark jumped, his optic widening. “Blurr! What a…pleasant surprise!”

Blurr crossed his arms, cocking his hip to one side. “You don’t sound too pleased.”

“I-... My apologies, Blurr, I did not intend to come off like that. I’ve just been…busy.”

“Busy? It’s our day off, though, why’re you working?”

“Well, someone needs to file these reports, and I’m the best at that.”

“Shockwave, there’s no reports today because everybody’s off. Even if there were, there’d be no backlog because you’re always on top of it! …Have you just been reading old reports?!”

“Wh- Not at all! I am appalled you would even think that.” He crossed his arms and turned away, pouting, but peeked back seconds later. “You wouldn’t happen to have brought a report for me to file, did you?”

“Hey, it’s my day off too, you know.” The blue bot crossed his arms and pouted back.

The Decepticon’s determination wavered, and with a sigh, his frame drooped. “I’m…I’m sorry… I’m just going slightly insane.”

“Yeah, I can imagine. And don’t apologize, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Blurr hugged Shockwave’s hand, nuzzling it. “Why don’t you get out of here for a bit? Get something to drink, get your fuel pumping, it’d be good for you!”

Shockwave was still in absolute disbelief at Blurr’s behavior towards him, and in such a short time, no less. It had been just over a day since their mutual confession. “I- Uhm… I’m not sure I should. What if a report comes in while I’m gone? Nobody else can fill them out as well as me!”

“Shockwave, you’re literally the only bot on this ship who’s even slightly worried about work right now. Come on, it’ll be nice! We can go to the cafeteria and talk to each other, or get to know some of the bots on the ship, or just sit and do nothing, it’ll be fun!”

The idea of going to a loud, crowded room full of his nosy subordinates didn’t sound particularly appealing. “I shouldn’t. Really, I’m fine here.”

“Oh…” Blurr’s smile fell. He’d really been hoping for a yes. “Well, can I at least bring you something? When’s the last time you refueled?”

Shockwave tapped his chin as he pondered. He couldn’t remember how long it had been, but the loud growl from his tanks confirmed it had been a while. “...Perhaps some fuel would be nice.”

“I’ll go get you some, then.” Reluctantly, Blurr pulled back but wasn’t quite yet ready to let go of his partner’s hand.

As awful as being in public sounded, Shockwave couldn’t bear to see Blurr upset. “I’ll…I’ll join you. For a little while at least.”

“Really?!” The light immediately returned to Blurr’s optics, though his demeanor softened again as he noticed Shockwave’s reluctance. Taking his claws, Blurr rubbed his thumbs over them in an attempt at reassurance. “Don’t feel like you have to go just because I want to.”

“No, it’s alright. I’d like to spend some time with you.” Even if it was at the mess hall.

“Ok, but if you want to leave, just go, ok? I can’t really fault you for not wanting to be in there. It can be a bit rowdy sometimes.”

The thought of just up and leaving made him feel worse than just not going at all, but Blurr really wanted him there… “It’s a deal then.” Shockwave carefully wrapped his claws around one of the smaller bot’s hands and very slowly kept pace with him all the way to the cafeteria.

~~~~~~

The Twins, Jazz, Tailwind, and a very cuddly Blitzwing and Bumblebee were seated at a corner table, talking amongst themselves. Jazz looked the least happy to be there, followed closely by Tailwind, who, despite having an involved conversation with Jetfire and Jetstorm, was still very tense at the casual presence of a high-ranking Decepticon. Blitzwing, for his part, sat stone-faced as Bumblebee jabbered on about whatever happened to cross his mind at that moment. The table had a very mixed air about it, and the other bots in the room very much took notice of it. The awkwardness and tension were certainly entertaining.

As the door quietly opened, Blurr led in a hunched-over Shockwave. The few strangers took notice of another one of their bosses showing up, especially considering how reclusive Shockwave tended to be, grinning and murmuring amongst themselves excitedly.

Shockwave’s antlers flicked and drooped a bit, assuming they were talking about him. They were, just not in the negative way he assumed, but he couldn’t tell that. He was well aware of everything that was said about him when his shipmates thought they were alone; he’s weird, he’s a recluse, he’s scary, cold, objective, bland, and to-the-point, all to his own social detriment. His subordinates respected him, but did they really respect him?

Noticing this discomfort, Blurr gripped one of his claws, gently placing his other hand atop Shockwave’s and giving him a reassuring smile.

The lanky Decepticon barely had time to react when a loud call rang out from Bumblebee. “Blurr! Over here! Come sit with us!” He waved excitedly. “And bring the purple one too, I guess!”

That got a poorly hidden giggle from some of those present, spiking Shockwave’s anxiety again. Despite it, he let Blurr lead them over and took a seat between him and Jazz, who would’ve rather been anywhere else.

“Oooo, so you two, huh?” Bumblebee glanced between the new arrivals, grinning slyly. “Can’t say I expected it, but hey, can’t predict everything, I guess.”

“Yes indeed, as of the night before last!” The joy and pride was tangible in Blurr’s voice.

“Well, congrats! And congrats on second place, too.” He snuggled back up to Blitzwing, making a show of it but honestly enjoying every bit of touching between them.

“Wait, what? Second place? What’re you talking about?”

“Yeah, apparently the guys on the ship were taking bets? I ‘got with Blitzwing’ first, so I won.” The little yellow bot hopped up, giving his much larger partner a kiss on the cheek. “Optimus is in third place, but he’s not really part of this, I guess. I don’t think he knows about the bets, either.”

Blitzwing and Shockwave give each other a knowing look.

“Who cares about ‘places’? This isn’t a competition.”

“Aww, is someone jealous they’re not as good as me?”

“No? Why would I be? I may be faster than you in a race, but this is one thing even I won’t rush.” Blurr leaned on his partner, caressing his hand.

“Oh, you’re so not faster than me!”

“Our last race says otherwise.”

“That was a fluke, and you know it!” Bumblebee jabbed a finger at the smug bot across from him, getting really heated.

“Aww, is someone jealous they’re not as good as me?”

“Can it, Zippy!” Bumblebee growled and sat back, arms crossed and pouting. One race didn’t prove anything! He absolutely was faster than Blurr!

Blitzwing’s spark fluttered at seeing him like this. He was just so cute when he puffed up his cheeks like that. Pulling the little bot onto his lap, Blitzwing gave him several kisses on the helm, which Bumblebee begrudgingly accepted. “Jou vill always be zhe fastest racer in my world.”

His blush was impossible to hide, and Bumblebee didn’t even bother. The kisses and compliments were just too nice.

Shockwave had been hyper-aware of his surroundings and the atmosphere since the second he’d stepped foot in the cafeteria. It wasn’t common for a General to be there in the first place, let alone two, and certainly not Shockwave. He could feel every optic that so much as glanced in their direction, and it made him uncomfortable. Even during work hours, when he was out delivering and collecting reports, few would look at him out of his pure intimidation factor, but now that he was here, and with Blurr, that seemed to have completely changed. Shockwave was well aware of the chatter surrounding Blitzwing and Bumblebee and even a lot of what surrounded him and Blurr, but he just couldn’t understand what was so appealing about that kind of talk. Still, though, it couldn’t hurt to prod it along a bit, right? “Hm. I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong. You see, Blurr ran across half the galaxy and was hardly tired.”

“I did do that, didn’t I?” Blurr was happy to receive the compliment, though it was slightly dampened by the reason he’d had to run like that. Unfortunately, that reason was the one complimenting his speed.

“Hm.” Blitzwing’s face spun around, feeling offended on his partner’s behalf. “Jou don’t know what jou’re talking about, cyclops!”

“Name-calling, Blitzwing? It’s unbecoming of you.” Leaning on his free hand, Shockwave kept poking at the angry bot. “You can disagree all you want, but deep down, you know I'm right.”

Springing to his feet, Blitzwing got right into Shockwave’s face, letting Bumblebee fall to the floor. “Jou vant to take this outside?! I’ll take jou any day, brainiac!”

“Hey now, let’s not be too hasty. Let’s all chill for a minute.” Jazz unfortunately found himself being the mediator between the two Decepticons. “I feel like there’s an easier way to settle this than tearin’ each other’s heads off.”

“A rematch!” Bumblebee’s head poked up from below the table, a big grin on his face.

“Oh, you’re so on.” Grinning just as wide, Blurr was already getting out of his seat.

Blitzwing’s face spun again. “Oooo, I get to see my little bug race? Yes pleeeeeeease!” Grabbing his tiny partner, Blitzwing carried him out under his arm.

Jazz flopped back down with a sigh and was just about to go down for a stress nap, but the eager Twins dragged him out before he had the chance to, followed closely by Shockwave and Blurr, leaving Tailwind to reluctantly bring up the rear.

~~~~~~

Word of the race had gotten around surprisingly fast, with a small crowd already formed along the edges of the hall and growing by the minute. Blurr and Bumblebee were enjoying the attention and atmosphere, but their partners…not so much. Shockwave and Blitzwing hung back, trying to avoid the prying eyes of their subordinates and doing a terrible job of it. Both were very aware of how much they stood out, and neither particularly enjoyed being so perceived.

“Alright, alright, let’s get this thing going.” Tailwind stepped into the middle of the hall, raising his hands to hush the crowd. “We’re gonna keep this nice and easy, ok? Three laps around the main hall of the ship. No cheating, no foul play, no shortcuts. Yes, we’ll know if you break these rules. The first to complete these laps is obviously the winner. Any questions? No? Alright you two, get to your places!”

Bumblebee ran up to Blitzwing, giving his leg a big hug. “You’re gonna stay and watch, right?”

“Of course. I would not miss this for the world.” Blitzwing picked up the smaller bot, rubbing his cheek.

“I’m totally gonna win! I’m gonna make you proud.”

“Jou already do.” He pulled Bumblebee into a soft kiss, getting a few excited gasps from the onlookers.

Red and flustered, Bumblebee buried his face in his partner’s neck.

Blurr had also gone to his partner, who’d immediately knelt down closer. He cupped the Decepticon’s face, pressing their foreheads together. “I’m winning this for you. Don’t look away.”

“You’re impossible to not watch, my dear.” He was still aware of the gathered crowd, but it hardly mattered at that moment. Blurr was touching him so gently…

Giggling, Blurr planted a firm kiss on the side of his head, getting another round of excited gasps from the crowd.

Shockwave’s antlers flicked up and down. He’d blush and return the kiss if he could, but to his disappointment, he couldn’t. Instead, he returned the gesture with another forehead tap. “I eagerly await your victory.”

The racers tore themselves away from their partners and took their places behind a panel seam they were using as a start line, at the ready in a racing stance. Tailwind stood facing the two, his arms crossed. “Ready?”

The pair nodded, lowering a bit further.

“Set?”

Their engines revved, fire burning in their optics.

“GO!”

Pushing off, both transformed and sped down the hall, quickly disappearing from sight.

The crowd’s cheering soon calmed down to eager chatter as they placed bets and not so subtly discussed their bosses’ love lives, with said bosses now standing awkwardly against the wall.

Shockwave’s awareness of his surroundings returned the moment Blurr was gone. Countless whispers and conversations flooded his audials, sending his processor into overdrive trying to parse them all out. He absolutely had to collect every bit of information, it’s what he did! It was his job to know every bit of gossip going around, and he definitely wanted to know if any of it involved him. What were they saying about him? Was everyone making fun of him? He was certain that’s what it was; why else would his subordinates keep glancing over at him? Was it because he’d been so publicly open with an Autobot? Of course, that was a bad idea! What was he thinking, doing something like that? This was sure to ruin his reputation and strip away what respect he had received before. And if it got back to Megatron…

Blitzwing nudged him with his elbow, grounding Shockwave some. The purple bot just gave him a confused side glance.

“I apologize for my outburst. It vas not necessary.”

Shockwave blinked, certain he’d heard wrong. “Why are you apologizing? You never apologize, why would you apologize?”

Blitzwing shrugged.

That short interaction had been strange and left Shockwave feeling very awkward. Was Blitzwing hoping to gain something from this? “...Thank you. Your apology is…appreciated.” It felt so strange to say that out loud and to Blitzwing, of all bots. Historically, the two hadn’t gotten along that well, mostly just tolerating each other for the sake of work, and even then, just barely. Blitzwing was probably planning something, but what? Whatever the case, Shockwave wasn’t sure how else to respond or even if he should. As the minutes passed, however, the awkwardness only grew, and Shockwave was itching for some reprieve. “So… You and the small yellow one..?”

Blitzwing nodded. “Jou and zhe small blue one?”

Shockwave nodded back. Realizing he’d just made the awkwardness worse, he continued talking and further digging his grave. “You seem to be doing well.”

“Mhm. He is quite zhe handful, but it’s a welcome change of pace.”

“Mm. That’s good.” Shockwave wanted to melt into the wall.

Blitzwing was very much feeling the awkwardness too, but dug his heels in further. “Jou seem to be doing vell with zhe blue one.”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“...It is most unusual to see jou doing anything except filing reports.”

“Well, there were no reports to file today.”

“It is just as strange to see jou out of jour quarters of jour own accord.”

“...Blurr invited me to refuel.” His tanks growled. “...Which I will do after this race.”

“Hm. I must say, he seems to have forgiven jou rather quickly.”

The thought had been lingering in the back of Shockwave’s processor since the pair’s confession, but it was now at the very front of his mind. Had Blurr forgiven him? Sure, he was acting all nice and lovey, but what if it was fake? Maybe Blurr was emotionally manipulating him as revenge or as some means to an end. Whether true or not, Shockwave knew he deserved it and couldn’t blame the Autobot for wanting to absolutely ruin him. Blurr hadn’t once seemed disingenuous in his words or actions, but could Shockwave really trust that?

He didn’t answer, and Blitzwing left him alone in turn. That had been the longest and most personal discussion the pair had in the centuries they’d known each other, and it felt extremely strange. Shockwave just felt more anxious and exposed now, even more paranoid about the talking going on around him. His optic darted around, growing more panicked by the second, and was heavily considering leaving, like Blurr said would be ok. Would it really be alright? No, he’d hold it against you. He’d never let you live down the guilt. …Would he? He’s never been anything but kind and understanding, he even said you could leave! But what if he was just being polite? He’d care if you left, you’d just hurt him if you did. That’s all you ever do. …He hates you. He’s just trying to get you comfortable. …Right?

As Shockwave was mulling over his decisions, the sound of approaching engines grew louder. Within seconds, Blurr and Bumblebee rounded a distant corner, pushing to their top speed in the home stretch. They looked to be neck and neck, but as they got closer and closer, Blurr pulled ahead the tiniest bit and crossed the finish line first by mere inches. Much of the crowd cheered, with the rest begrudgingly handing over their credits.

Blurr flew down the hall, only able to stop once he transformed and forced his wheels into the ground, leaving long tire marks in his wake. The moment he stopped, he beelined back towards Shockwave and jumped into the surprised Decepticon’s arms. “Did you see how fast I was going? Did you? Did you? Did you?” He was rattling off words as fast as he’d been running, jittering in Shockwave’s arms.

Shockwave chuckled, giving him a pat on the head. “You flew by so quickly, I almost didn’t! You were a flash of lightning, blink and you’ll miss it.”

Blurr squealed excitedly, planting several quick kisses all over the purple bot’s face.

He couldn’t help enjoying the affection, his apprehensions forgotten for the moment.

Bumblebee hadn’t been as energetic as Blurr, coming to a full stop before transforming. “Maaaannn, how’d this happen again?” He grumbled, trudging back towards Blitzwing, but was stopped by a few bots congratulating him on a job well done and better luck next time. Bumblebee didn’t want to hear any of it. He was disappointed for a variety of reasons and felt like he could cry, especially as Blurr skipped over, his hand extended.

“Hey, thanks for the race! I haven't had my lines pumping like this since the last time we did this! We should do it again sometime.”

“Uhm… Yeah! Anytime!” Plastering on a smile, Bumblebee shook his hand and watched as Blurr walked off, being congratulated and praised. Just as he was about to return to his search for Blitzwing, he was scooped up into a warm hug.

“Jou did well, meine liebe.” Blitzwing hoped kisses would help cheer up his little Autobot.

“Thanks, Blitz…” Bumblebee wrapped his arms around Blitzwing’s neck, nuzzling into his neck. “...I could use a nap.”

“That sounds like a nice idea. Would jou like me to join?”

“Mhm…”

“Alright, my little bug.” Giving his partner another kiss, Blitzwing carried him off.

Once Blurr had finished up with his fanfare and photo ops, he returned to Shockwave, hugging his hand. “Waddyou say we finally get that fuel, hm?”

“That would be delightful.” Pushing his apprehension to the back of his mind, Shockwave led his racer back to the mess hall, followed by a good bit of the crowd, eager to celebrate.

Chapter Text

Returning to his room, Blitzwing scooted onto his recharge slab, holding Bumblebee close. He wasn’t sure what to do. Bumblebee was clearly upset about something, but emotions weren’t exactly the Decepticon’s forte. Still, he felt like he needed to at least try. “Vhat is bothering jou, little Autobot?”

“Nothing. …I’m just tired.” Bumblebee kept his face hidden in Blitzwing’s neck.

“...Alright.” Blitzwing nuzzled him back. “My little bug.”

Bumblebee inhaled sharply and whimpered, holding back tears. He didn’t want to cry, he didn’t want to talk, he honestly didn’t even know what he wanted right now. He still didn’t get why Blitzwing was being so nice, especially after he’d lost. Shouldn't Blitzwing have just left him there? Why keep pretending right now? It didn’t help that Blitzwing hugged him closer. He clenched his teeth, barely holding in his tears. “You can stop pretending now… There’s no one here but us.”

“Vhat do jou mean?” He really still thinks this is a game..? Blitzwing knew he shouldn’t expect more than that, but his spark still hurt.

“THIS! ALL of this!” Unable to contain himself, Bumblebee ripped himself away from Blitzwing, tears streaming down his face. “I lost! I failed! I let you down! But here you are, hugging, and kissing, an-and comforting me?! Why do you keep doing this?! You know good and well you don’t have to keep pretending when we’re alone, so why do you keep doing it?! Are you really just that determined to beat me at something too?!” He was practically screaming in Blitzwing’s face, Tailwind’s words echoing in his head: ‘you like him, and he really likes you.’

“Jou did not let me down…” It was shocking to see the perpetually upbeat little bot’s mood shift so far in the opposite direction. “A simple race will not change my feelings towards jou.” He reached out to try drying Bumblebee’s tears, but the little bot swatted his hand away and got off his lap, scooting away onto the slab.

“I thought we were having fun, Bitzwing! But…But I don’t get what your angle is anymore, and I hate that I like it! It’s just a game, right?! It’s just a game! It’s just a game… Just a game…”

Just a game… Just a game… “Yes. Just a game. Zhat’s…all it is.”

“How’re you so committed to it?! I just don’t get why you keep it up like this!”

“It’s just a game. Zhat’s it.” He hates jou, he vill never share jour feelings. And jou wouldn’t deserve them if he did! Haha, he still thinks it’s a game! Let him think so, it’s better zhat way! But, he’s upset… Should we not try to help? Or at least explain ourselves? “It’s just a game…” His optic twitched. NO! Don’t jou dare say a word! Jou vill scare him away, and jou vill be alone again. Do jou want that?! What do jou mean, ‘alone?’ We have each other! Somehow, zhat’s worse! “Just a game…” His face tried to spin, but he grabbed it, digging his fingers in to prevent that. “Just a game…” His breathing grew more labored, his voice more panicked.

Bumblebee watched this rapid escalation, growing more concerned by the second. “Uh…Blitz? What uh…what’s wrong, buddy? You uh..had some bad fuel or somethin’? I-I’m sorry I yelled, I didn’t mean to-”

“IT’S JUST A GAME! AHAHAHAHAHA! Zhat’s all it ever vill be!” Blitzwing’s emotions had won out over his physical strength, and he fully gave himself over to them. His head spun every which way, only pausing for a second before resuming its dizzying momentum.

“Blitzwing? The joke’s over, this isn’t funny anymore.” Slag, he’s not pretending, is he? This was all but confirmed when the Decepticon sprang up and started pacing and dancing around the room.

“Heehee, it’s just a game! Isn’t it fun?! No, it's not fun! Jou’re lying! But he says it’s a game, so it’s a game! It’s whatever he wants it to be! Shut up, jou slagheap! Jou’re pathetic!” Blitzwing grabbed his scowling face, unable to so much as budge it in any direction. “SHUT UP! Shut up shut up shut UP! Jou’re disgusting! Pathetic! He vill never-”

With a sickening crack, he finally managed to twist his face to a calmer expression, still gripping it tight. “My apologies. It seems I need to do better to keep zhem in check.”

Bumblebee’s spark was racing, almost faster than he’d been earlier. He frantically looked all around Blitzwing’s frame, trying to make sense of his episode. “What was that?!”

“Zhat is not important. Don't worry about it.”

“Um, no? That very much looks important, and I’m gonna worry about it! What the slag was that?!”

Blitzwing clawed at his face, desperate to keep it in place. “I said, don’t worry about it.”

“...Is it me?”

He peeked through his fingers, his chest tightening at the sight of the normally happy little bot sitting slumped on the edge of the bed, his head down, and fidgeting. Blitzwing was at a loss at what to do. Just tell him..he already suspects jou. Just rip zhe bandage off and let him leave faster. No, don’t say a word! Jou’re fine, just tell him jou’re fine! Awwwww, but he looks so sad! What if we hurt his feelings by lying? With a shaky breath, Blitzwing relinquished his hold, letting his head spin. The red-eyed, sharp-toothed void stood meekly in the center of the room, looking like a kicked puppy. “...Yes.”

“Tell me what I did. …Please..?”

“Jou uhm…jou did nothing.”

“Then why’d you say it was me?! I’m so confused…” Bumblebee sniffled, looking up at Blitzwing with big, watery optics.

“I… Vell, I- Uhm…” Quit stuttering, jou blithering moron! Either say it or don’t! “It’s uhm… It’s not just a game anymore…”

“W…Waddyou mean?”

“Vell, it’s um…” It’s nothing! Say it’s nothing! “It was a game…for a little while… And-and it was fun! But, zhe further in we got, zhe more I realized I…maybe kind of sort of definitely absolutely had feelings for jou.”

Bumblebee blinked slowly. “You… Oh my God, they were right…” I might owe Tailwind an apology. “So…the kissing, the hugging, the gifts, pet names, compliments…all of that was…”

“Not a game, yes.”

A whole lot suddenly made sense to Bumblebee. “...And you didn’t tell me because..?”

Blitzwing hesitated for a moment, tapping his pointer fingers together and fiercely avoiding eye contact. “Vell, at first I thought jou wouldn’t believe me, and zhen I thought it vould scare jou away, jou know? Jou’ve always hated me, and jou thought it was a game, and…I thought it vould be better like zhat…” He sniffled. “I didn't want jou to leave…”

“You…thought I’d stop hanging out with you if I knew?”

Blitzwing nodded sheepishly.

“You said a race wouldn’t change how you felt about me, right? Well, this isn’t gonna change how I feel about you. I like hanging out with you, and messing with you, and doing this dumb soap opera shtick, and hugging you, and…and kissing you…” A slight blush rosied his cheeks. “Sure, we’ve tried to kill each other a lot, but you’re cool!”

“So…jou don’t hate me?” He sniffled again. “Jou don’t mind zhat I think jou’re cute?”

“Of course I don’t mind! I like it…it all feels nice.” Jumping off the slab, Bumblebee poked at the ground with his foot for a bit as the gears were turning in his head. “I kinda tried to not think about it, but…I think I kinda like you too.”

“Really? Jou’re…not just saying zhat?”

“No, I-I mean it! You are really cool! You’re really fun, you’re like, one of my favorite bots! And you’re tall, and dark, and handsome, and all those other things I said during our last date… All three of you are cool!”

Blitzwing was on the verge of tears again, sniffling and squeaking, but this time, his reaction was one of joy. “Zhat…Zhat was the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me!”

Geez, has he never got a compliment before? Man, that’s sad. Taking a few steps forward, Bumblebee extended his arms and looked up at the teary Decepticon. “Bring it in, big guy.”

Blitzwing whimpered again and dropped to his knees, pulling the little bot into a tight, suffocating hug. “Jou’re so nice…and fun…and expressive, and energetic… Jou’re so cool…”

“Thanks, Blitz…” He wrapped his arms around the larger bot’s neck, once again nuzzling into it. “Means a lot, coming from you.”

Blitzwing squeaked again, tightening his hug.

After a few moments, Bumblebee ended the hug, moving his hands to the sides of Blitzwing’s helm. “You’re so cool.” He leaned in, pulling the dark, near-featureless face of his partner into a warm kiss. He held it for a bit, letting them both absorb the experience, then pulled back, grinning. “You’re a pretty good kisser. How ‘bout we see if those other two faces are just as good?”

Giggling, Blitzwing’s face spun around and stopped on a flustered Hothead, who was somehow even more red from his blush. “Rrgh, just do it already!”

“What’s the magic word?”

Blitzwing grumbled. “...Please.”

“There we go.” Bumblebee pulled him into a kiss just as warm as the last. “Three faces, three times the kisses.”

With a final spin, Blitzwing returned to his typical, cold expression, although as he looked at the little bot in his arms, he felt the tiniest smile curl the corners of his mouth. “My turn.”

Before Bumblebee could make his move, Blitzwing had already pulled him in. He didn’t protest, wrapping his arms around the Decepticon’s neck again, enjoying every touch he gave and received. The arm around his back, the hand cradling his helm, and the kiss itself felt amazing, and made his spark dance. He was kind of disappointed when it ended, but being this close to Blitzwing was more than enough to keep him happy. “How ‘bout we finally get to that nap, hot stuff?”

“I like zhat idea.” Picking up his tiny partner, Blitzwing carried him back to their slab and curled around him. “My little bug.”

“Never stop calling me that.” Bumblebee snuggled up as close as he physically could, wanting to hold as much of Blitzwing as he could. “...You really don’t mind that I’m kinda loud and annoying?”

“I find it rather endearing. Think of it as part of jour charm.” Blitzwing gave him a little kiss on the helm. “Besides, I can be quite zhe same.”

“Think of it as part of your charm too, then.” Bumblebee felt warm and fuzzy, inside and out, and returned the kiss. “Hey, d’you think we could still keep up the dramatics? The guys in the cafeteria seem to get a kick out of it. It’s pretty fun, dontcha think?”

“Of course. I admit, I find it quite enjoyable as well.” His stony face wouldn’t give away just how much he meant it. “Although, zhat doctor of jours might not be too thrilled.”

“Oho, yeah, Ratchet’s gonna lose his mind! …Oh man, he’s gonna kill me.”

“Not if I get to him first.”

“Hey now, if you want me, you gotta be nice to my friends.”

Blitzwing sighed, a hint of that drama peeking through. “Very well, I vill not harm zhe doctor. Or zhe others.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” The warmth of his partner’s frame had completely enveloped Bumblebee in a toasty cocoon, rapidly dragging him closer to sleep. He felt his optics grow heavy as his systems began to go into standby mode, thankful he wasn’t spending this nap alone. “Thanks, Blitz… You’re the coolest…” With a deep vent out, Bumblebee drifted into a deep, cozy sleep, nestled perfectly against Blitzwing.

“Rest well, my little bug.” Giving the sleeping Autobot one more helm kiss, Blitzwing, too, settled in for a pleasant rest, the cacophony of voices in his head having grown more quiet than they’d ever been before.

~~~~~~

Sentinel trudged into the dirty, run-down building, dreading the coming hours. He’d spent the week since the book club’s previous meeting stewing in his misery and irritation. Ultra Magnus had called him in again to essentially passively jab at him, and to offer a reward: should Sentinel succeed in his mission, his rank would be fully restored back to Major. As motivating as it was, was it really worth it to deal with this annoyance? Better than cleaning street gutters, I guess. He grumbled as he tiptoed down the hall, jumping out of the way as a small herd of cyber rats ran by. “Eugh.” He felt dirty just being here, but he kept telling himself it would all be worth it in the end. Getting out one more grumble, he pushed open the door.

“Hi, Sentinel!” Smokescreen waved excitedly from his seat. His happy demeanor made Sentinel’s fuel lines boil.

Deadlock walked over to greet the new arrival, a big smile on his face. “It’s a pleasure to have you here again, Sentinel! Your presence is always a welcome addition to our nights.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Brushing past the Decepticon, Sentinel flopped down in his seat next to the other Decepticon.

Cyclonus was here, to Sentinel’s ire, looking as stone-cold as ever. He greeted the Autobot with only a small nod before turning his attention elsewhere.

Sentinel scoffed, rolling his optics as Deadlock returned to his seat, hands clasped. “Now then, it looks like everyone’s arrived. Shall we get started then?”

All but one member murmured excitedly.

“Great! Let’s start as usual: how has everyone’s week been?”

Smokescreen raised his hand and was called on, practically jittering with excitement. “So, a couple days ago, right? I was cleaning this ditch by the road. Sentinel, you were there, so I think you know where this is going.”

Sentinel sneered, slouching in his rickety seat.

Paying his sour attitude no mind, Smokescreen continued. “So anyway, I was clearing out a section of this ditch, when all of a sudden, I spotted something shiny hiding! I pulled it out and voila!” He eagerly presented a small, crystal figurine reminiscent of a shrimp. “I have no idea what it is, but his name is Lump and he’s my new favorite thing.”

“Oh, that’s great, Smokescreen! We’re glad you were so lucky to come across something that brings you so much joy. I’m sure Lump was just as happy to be found by you!”

Sentinel’s optic twitched, the disgust visible on his face.

As Smokescreen subspaced his shrimpy friend, Deadlock addressed the rest of the group. “Would anybody else like to share?”

Ironhide’s hand shot straight up, as did he, once given the floor. He stood at attention, saluting. “Ah successfully protected a couple of innocent civilians from falling construction debris! Two girders fell from a crane, and ah used my hardening ability to deflect them!”

“I’d call that a wonderful act of service. I’m sure those civilians were quite thankful.”

“Thank you, Deadlock, Sir! It’s always a pleasure to serve mah community!”

“A hardening ability?..” Bluestreak asked sheepishly. “Could uhm…could you maybe demonstrate? I-If it’s ok of me to ask, of course, I don’t mean to sound like I’m forcing you.”

“Why, of course! Nothin’ wrong with asking, I like to show off a bit!” In a snap, Ironhide’s bright orange had turned into a shiny, polished, chrome-like sheen.

Bluestreak stared in awe. “I…had no idea an ability like that could exist… That’s…so…cool!” For the first time, there was some enthusiasm in his demeanor as he scooted to the edge of his seat.

“Cool and tough!” Ironhide grinned and flexed. “Nothin’ can dent me!”

“That’s amazing! Uhm…would you mind if I maybe…poke?”

“Shoot, you can do more than that! Hit me!”

Bluestreak nearly choked. “What?!”

“Hit me! Punch me as hard as you can!”

Bluestreak was very hesitant to do anything, but got up after a moment and gently tapped Ironhide’s chest.

“Awww, you can do better’n that! Come on, reel back and give it your all!”

Still hesitant, Bluestreak delivered something more reminiscent of a punch. It barely even registered as physical contact to Ironhide, but he stumbled back to humor the ninja. “Whohohoa! You got some fire in you!”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Naw, that felt good!” Ironhide flexed again, grinning audial to audial.

“Oh… O-Ok then!” Seeing his cohort in such high spirits, a smile returned to Bluestreak as he sat back down. “Uhm…thanks for letting me test out your ability!”

“Anytime!” Returning to normal, Ironhide seated himself too, a look of pure glee on his face.

Deadlock seemed equally as happy. “The social exchange and bonding going on here is amazing, isn’t it?”

The room nodded in agreement, with only Sentinel remaining sour.

“If I may.” Cyclonus’ low rumble of a voice sent shivers down Sentinel’s spine. To his confusion, however, the Decepticon pulled out a box. “Tailgate and I made energon treats to share.”

“My goodness, that’s so thoughtful of you!” Deadlock happily accepted the box and took a treat for himself before passing it along. The box moved clockwise, and eventually ended up with Sentinel, who refused to even touch it. Cyclonus simply reached across him and took the box back.

“Cyclonus, these are incredible!” Smokescreen was so busy stuffing his face, he could barely talk.

“Yeah, for real! You did an awesome job on these.” Hot Rod was easier to understand, though his mouth was pretty full too.

“Oh, you flatter me.” Cyclonus’ tone didn’t change as he took a small bite. “Tailgate did most of the work.”

“Still, you made them together. You totally did help!” Even Bluestreak’s optics were lit up, clearly enjoying the tasty treat.

Cyclonus took another small bite. “Your praises are appreciated. I am certain Tailgate will be overjoyed to hear how well these were received.”

As the others munched on their energon goodies, Sentinel sat fuming. Part of him had wanted one too, but what was he gonna do? Accept homemade fuel from a Decepticon? That wasn’t safe in the slightest! There could be drugs, or poison in them! Besides, taking one would’ve been admitting he was ok with being here, whether he actually thought so or not. Still though, everyone else seemed to be enjoying them…

Within minutes, the others had finished. Brushing away some crumbs, Deadlock pulled out his little datapad. “Now then, have we all caught up with the reading?”

A round of nods and yep’s came from the attendees, all except for Sentinel once again.

Deadlock tilted his head. “Sentinel, were you able to catch up?”

“Didn’t have time.” He grumbled.

“Ah, no worries! A busy schedule’s a busy schedule. We can give you a summary, if you’d like!”

“...Fine.”

“Great! I’ll give you a quick rundown then.” Deadlock cleared his throat, putting on an air of drama. “When we last left off in chapter eleven, the gallant knight Thunderhowl had just made it to the impenetrable fortress to rescue his love, Silverbolt, from the clutches of the evil ferromancer. But, just as Thunderhowl arrived, he was beset by a giant, fire-breathing dragon! The situation was dire, and the knight fought valiantly, and in the end…”

Sentinel tuned Deadlock out the longer he talked, getting lost in his own mind again. Ugh, just shut up already, no one cares about your stupid book! Why’s he even bothering to explain this scrap? Is he so dense he can’t tell I don’t care?! Or is he just trying to annoy me, cus if so, it’s working. …I wonder what kind of energon treats those were. Seems like they were pretty good- Primus, Sentinel, what’re you thinking?! You know it’s not safe to accept anything from a ‘Con! Ugh, the longer you spend with these bozos, the more you’re slipping. How much am I supposed to play into this? Will I get kicked out if I don’t do it enough? I gotta figure that out, I can’t risk that promotion. Man, why’re Decepticons so good at lying? Even if this is all a cover, why’re they being nice to me? They could easily keep their plans hidden and not keep trying to feed me, or pull me into their stupid, fake conversations, or just… UUUUUUGHHHH, they haven’t even once mentioned my demotions! Are they pretending to not know? No, no, they’re gonna use it against me. They’re not gonna mention it and dangle it over me for blackmail or coercion, they’ll try to humiliate me the first chance they get! They hate me, just like everyone else! It’s only a matter of time before they start treating me like everyone else does.

Sentinels spark tightened. He fully expected the verbal abuse to begin at any moment the longer he spent here. The anxiety and anticipation was driving him insane, and he wasn’t sure how much of it he could take. Why had these bots accepted him so readily? There must be some other reason Sentinel just hadn’t figured out yet. Despite all this, a part of him was thankful for the lack of outright humiliation.

“Sentinel?” Deadlock leaned forward. “…Sentinel?”

He jerked as Deadlock’s voice dragged him out of his spiral. He glared at the Decepticon, scoffing. “What?”

“Is everything alright? You spaced out for a while.”

“Yeah. …Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s just keep reading.”

“Oh, well I’m glad you’re ok, but…we’ve already finished for tonight…”

Already finished? How long was he zoned out for? Checking his internal chronometer, two hours, apparently. He got up to leave, the last to do so as the others had already left. “Whatever. I’m going home.”

“Actually, Sentinel, do you mind staying for a moment? I’d like to speak to you.”

Ugh, what does he want? “Fine. But make it quick.”

Once everyone else was gone, Deadlock closed the door as best as it would go on its single, rusty hinge. As he turned to face Sentinel, his expression had completely dropped to something neutral, almost sinister compared to the smile he wore during their sessions.

Sentinel stood still, even as Deadlock began to circle him slowly, inspecting him like prey.

“I know you’re hiding something, Sentinel. I can see it in your aura. It reeks of lies and misery.”

“Spare me your spiritual hippie slag. You don’t know anything about me.”

“Don’t I? Everyone knows who you are, Sentinel. Everyone knows what you’ve done. What I can’t quite figure out is why you're here. You came to us in such an odd manner, like you had intended to follow Cyclonus. You’re not here by accident, nor by choice, are you?”

Scrap, he’s onto me! “Is it so unbelievable that I want to be here?” Those words tasted disgusting coming out.

“You’re not the type of bot to join a group like this willingly. Now, I don’t know what exactly is going on with you, or your circumstances, or how you ended up here, or why you choose to stay, but…” Deadlock ceased his circling, stopping in front of the panicked Autobot. “None of that matters to me, and I doubt it matters to anyone else here.” A soft, genuine smile had formed again. “You don’t believe me, and I don’t expect you to, but I mean it when I say we only have the best intentions. You’re hurt, Sentinel, and we want to help you heal. Things may be uncertain right now, but they will become more clear with time. Even now, as dark as your aura is, specks of gold find their way in.”

“Why’re you still talking? I don’t wanna hear this.” Sentinel felt the pressure in his fuel lines rising. He crossed his arms tightly, but it didn’t do much.

“But you need to hear it.” He gently placed a hand on Sentinel’s arms. “I don’t believe anyone is beyond help, and that includes you. Everyone has a little bit of good in them. Sometimes it just needs a little coaxing to come out. You have a place here, Sentinel. We’re always happy to have you with us.”

Sentinel grimaced in confusion, unsure of how to even respond. What was Deadlock’s angle? To soften him up before pulling the rug out? That had to be it! Why else would he be so nice? Growling, he shoved away Deadlock’s hand. “Don’t touch me, Decepticon. I don’t give a damn what a dirty pile of scrap like you thinks about me!”

“Perhaps not, but I wanted to voice my thoughts nonetheless.” He quickly brushed off the insults, having already heard them thousands of times.

Sentinel felt like he could explode. Flinging open the door, he stomped down the hall, wanting to leave as quickly as possible.

“We hope to see you back next week! It’s always a pleasure, Sentinel.” Deadlock called after him, still smiling.

Sentinel had again tuned him out, wanting to just get away from this weird discomfort. The second he was outside, he transformed and sped off back to his own cruddy apartment, traffic be damned.

He slammed the door as he entered the tiny studio, sending a small cloud of dust and dirt falling from the ceiling. “GrrrRHHHHHHHH!” He violently brushed it off himself, his frame jerking from pent-up rage. He could feel every little speck that was still on him, and every one that had worked its way into his joints, and it drove him utterly insane. He couldn’t even shower; his tiny residence wasn’t big enough to have one, and the communal ones were always out of service for one reason or another. His fury continued to build as he flopped down on his beat-up recharge slab and curled up. Deadlock’s little talk kept replaying in his processor, tormenting him. ‘Everybody knows you.’ Of course they do! My humiliation was broadcast to the whole planet! Why’re they pretending to be nice? Why don’t they just kick me out?! Those two Decepticons are onto me, so why haven’t they killed me yet? No one would care! Why keep me around? What do they want from me?!

Sentinel gripped his helm and curled as small as he could, quivering as he fought back tears. Despite his efforts, they started to trickle down his face and pool under his cheek, being sapped of any warmth by the cold slab. He felt miserable. He was miserable. Just another stain on the record of Autobot-kind. Another stain that needed to be washed away. Sentinel’s final thought before falling into recharge was a hope that he wouldn’t wake up.

Chapter Text

Optimus had spent his mandatory day off rather pleasantly, chatting with Megatron in the little observation room, intercut with occasional naps and snack breaks. All things considered, it had been a wonderful experience for both bots, but alas, it couldn’t last forever. The Autobot awoke the next morning to a meeting alert, atop his own recharge slab in his little, cramped closet of a room, cold and alone outside Megatron’s embrace. His optics slowly onlined as he rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. Optimus recalled the last couple days with a bittersweet smile as guilt and loneliness crept in. He thought of Megatron’s rather tragic early life and how he’d gone astray, their teary confessions around Prowl, their multiple jokes and jabs, the cuddling and near-kisses-

He was suddenly very awake. His sparkrate increased almost instantly at the thought of the Decepticon pulling his hand so close to his lips, or how Optimus himself had beckoned the mech closer, only to completely derail what he’d almost done. Despite everything he’d heard from Bumblebee, Tailwind, and Ratchet, Optimus really didn’t want to think about the implications of how he felt about it. Thankfully, he didn’t have much time to let it linger. There was a meeting to get to, after all.

Taking a deep vent in and out, Optimus sat up as slowly as he had awoken, and made his way out, calmly ambling down the hall with uncharacteristically low anxiety about the coming day. He’d dare say he was, in fact, excited to get the meeting underway, seeing Megatron again being one of the driving forces for his good mood, despite some of his more confusing and questionable thoughts about the mech. The closer he got to the meeting room, the higher his spirits rose, and as the door opened…

He saw he saw the first to arrive, for once. Well, almost the first. As Optimus quietly stepped in, Megatron glanced up from his datapad, his optics noticeably brightening at the sight of his smaller companion, the corners of his mouth curling upward. “Your presence is most welcome, Optimus. I take it you had a pleasant recharge?”

“Not bad, I’d say.” Prime’s spark fluttered at hearing his name again, his cheeks feeling warmer. He tried to play it off by stopping for a stretch before hopping into his chair, but decided to be a little bold today, instead seating himself directly next to Megatron. “You?”

Megatron shrugged nonchalantly, amused at Prime’s behavior. His rest hadn’t been the worst, although he’d been waking constantly with every dream he’d had of their almost-kissing. Despite his best efforts, he just could not get the thoughts out of his mind, and he prayed this meeting would be enough to distract him for a little while.

Optimus crossed his arms and raised a brow. “That’s not an answer.”

“My rest was satisfactory.” Megatron could hardly keep himself contained at how adorable Optimus was.

“Is ‘satisfactory’ actually good? Or are you just saying that to get me off your back?” Optimus leaned closer, narrowing his optics.

“‘Satisfactory’ is whatever you deem it to be.”

“Really? Well then, our time together yesterday was ‘satisfactory.’” Prime’s voice dripped with sly sarcasm, clearly poking at Megatron’s sensibilities.

Megatron just shrugged again, suppressing a grin.

“Alright, be like that.” Optimus gave up and pulled out his own datapad in preparation, only to find himself being yoinked over onto his bigger companion’s lap. Although startling at first, he settled in within seconds, happy to once again be wrapped in the pleasant warmth. It was so comfortable, in fact, that he felt himself growing drowsy again, scooting around to lay in the Decepticon’s arms. Just as he was about to drift into an early morning nap, however, the door opened once again, allowing Blitzwing to enter, followed immediately by Shockwave. Anxious and embarrassed at how this situation looked, he speedily wiggled out of his comfy arm nest back to his all too large, cold chair, much to his and Megatron’s visible disappointment. As the remaining attendees filed in, Optimus returned his attention to his datapad and kept his eyes glued to it, knowing full well that the first two who entered saw his shenanigans.

As everyone got settled down, Megatron cleared his throat. “I do hope everyone had a pleasant day off. It is a pleasure to have you back with us as well, Shockwave.”

“Thank you, my Liege.” The purple mech responded, looking significantly less like a pin cushion.

“With that being said, we have fallen quite behind on these proceedings, though the fault does not entirely lie with us. Some time ago, I had reached out to Ultra Magnus in request of his presence here, and he has finally agreed to join us today.”

Prime’s head shot up to look at the speaker, eyes wide in surprise and fear. “What?!”

“Rest assured, every necessary precaution and courtesy has been taken, although he will not be with us in person.”

That was a small relief, but anything was welcome in this regard.

“He, and presumably the rest of the Council, will be with us shortly. I do not know what to expect from them, but I do expect every one of you to be on your best behavior.” Just as Megatron finished speaking, an incoming call alert flashed on the table’s receiver, and moments later, an oversized image of Ultra Magnus and the Council loomed above the room.

“Greetings, Megatron. Optimus Prime.” The Autobot leader nodded to his subordinate, who was standing at attention.

“A pleasure to have you in attendance, Ultra Magnus. Senators.” Megatron sounded as flat and disinterested as Ultra Magnus, clearly just going through the motions of a proper greeting.

The remaining Senators nodded politely as their superior continued. “I understand you have several subjects of importance you wish to discuss.”

“Indeed, Ultra Magnus. I would like to begin with the growing fuel shortage. Despite our agreement, you have missed two shipments of energon without notice or explanation.”

“My apologies for not alerting you sooner. As you know, we have had our hands rather full with the rebuilding efforts on Cybertron. I assure you, we are gathering what we can, although our own situation has reached a point where we regrettably cannot afford to spare much excess fuel.”

Megatron’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he leaned forward, his fingers laced. That excuse was as vague as always, and it didn’t sit well with the Decepticon.

“As such, I must prioritize my people first and foremost. However, we may be willing to bargain, should you be open to the proposition.”

This just kept getting stranger and stranger. “What do you propose?”

“A trade. Your weapons for our energon.”

A murmur circled the room. “And why would you require Decepticon weaponry?”

“We need metal to harvest for spare parts and to melt down for the sake of our rebuilding efforts. As it stands, there is no longer a need for a surplus of weapons on either side, and I believe it pointless to continue hoarding. We have already stripped and dismantled all but our essential installations, and due to our own fuel shortage are unable to mine off-world.”

Megatron remained silent, running through the possibilities. Ultra Magnus could easily be lying about a number of things, from the Autobots’ fuel shortages to having rid themselves of weaponry. He could have been trying to get his hands on more ammunition in anticipation of a Decepticon attack that would never come, or was planning one of his own. There were so many branches and possibilities, and Megatron didn’t trust a single one of them. He did notice, however, that none of the other Senators had spoken, so turned his attention to them. “Your offer is attractive, Ultra Magnus. Although, I would like to hear from your constituents as well. Do they not have a say in this?”

There was a brief silence and some awkward shuffling on the Council’s end, before Alpha Trion spoke up. “I believe the exchange of much needed resources would be greatly beneficial to all caught in this unfortunate net. As we are no longer at war, weapons are not necessary, aside from those against outside threats to all our people. Cybertron is still in the process of dismantling its defenses, and I believe it would be a show of good faith to offer and accept this deal. As for fuel, while it is true our stores are currently running lower than we would like, I am certain we could continue to spare some for the sake of friendship.”

Ultra Magnus’ optics flashed at Alpha Trion, cold and well hidden, but not good enough to go unnoticed by Megatron. “It seems to me, Ultra Magnus, we may finally be reaching an agreement. If you can continue to spare what fuel you can, so too can I spare an equivalent amount of dismantled weaponry.”

“There is no need for that. We would not burden your people with taking apart your war machines before their shipment. I would be more than happy to take them off your hands as-is to save you time and energy.”

“Nonsense, Ultra Magnus, there is really no energy spent on our part. Besides, parts would be much easier to transport than whole weapons.”

“Very well. The Council will draft an agreement, and we will proceed with this trade shortly.”

“We will have it on your desk within the week.” Alpha Trion once again spoke up, much to Ultra Magnus’ increasing ire.

Megatron nodded. “So be it. I am pleased we could finally find some middle ground.”

“Indeed.” Ultra Magnus somehow sounded even less thrilled to be here. “Now then, there were several other topics to discuss. Notably, I would like to touch on your request of allocating an abandoned city for Decepticon use?”

“Ah, yes. Currently, many Decepticons are stranded on Cybertron. However, even more are currently aboard my fleet of ships. I find this unsustainable in the long term, and made a request to not only rebuild destroyed parts of Cybertron with warframes in mind, but to allow us the use of a pre-war city as our own.” Tapping the screen of his datapad, Megatron pulled up an enlarged image of the planet. “While Unicron’s attack destroyed many abandoned cities on the far side of Cybertron, some remain standing, and, to my knowledge, are unused and off limits to Autobots.” For reasons he could easily guess. “I request the use of one or multiple cities as part of my peoples’ resettlement and reintegration efforts.”

“Perhaps at a future date, but currently, we have no more resources or laborers to begin reconstructing areas as run down as Kaon or Tarn. We must focus on our primary settlements first.”

“If I may, Sir.” Optimus politely raised his hand as every optic in the room and on screen was suddenly on him.

“Proceed.”

“If Cybertron were to reallocate some supplies towards fixing up some old cities for warframe use, I think it could solve a few of your problems. For one, it would help with overcrowding. I’ve heard several cities are having a bit of an issue with that right now. Second, having a bit more space could ease tensions between our factions and aid greatly in building stronger bonds between them through cooperation and teamwork. In my time, I’ve come to learn that working closely with those you may be unfamiliar or apprehensive towards can really help change minds. In addition, any potential Autobot residents or businesses who choose to move to the area would be greatly beneficial towards stimulating the economy, and equally valuable in showing cooperation and peace is achievable.”

Another round of silence, looks, and murmurs circled the room, seemingly a bit more excited, with the Autobot leader being the first to speak this time. “Your ideas are sound, Optimus Prime, but as I stated before, our resources-”

“Then send us a census of available supplies and workers. I’d be happy to look it over and shuffle things around. The more we can rebuild, the better.”

“We can have that to you within the week as well.” Alpha Trion got another icy look from his superior.

“Thank you, Sir, we appreciate the speed.” He smiled, bowing. “Oh! While I have you all here, I wanted to propose something of my own. I know we’re all struggling for any kind of resources, and while the Decepticons are already more frequent participants, has there been any consideration of opening up to outside trade? We might technically not have anything to trade, but Cybertron does have money. It could be another way of procuring necessary resources, alongside scouring Cybertron’s surface and orbit.”

Again, Alpha Trion responded before any other Council members could protest. “We have considered it, although it is a…slow process. Cybertron does not have the best standing within the larger galaxy, given our unfortunate past, so finding willing trade partners has so far been fruitless. Rest assured, however, we will do our utmost to mend our reputability for the benefit of all.”

Prime’s smile grew a bit more upon hearing that. Alpha Trion had always been a warm presence on the Council, serving as a sort of balance to Ultra Magnus’ colder demeanor. As early as the Academy, Optimus had struck up a cordial relationship with the mech through their shared interests in history and literature, having been occasionally slipped a new book, or allowed access to the rarer or more taboo collections of the library in Iacon. To someone like Optimus, the gesture was much appreciated.

The smaller bot took his seat again, and only then did the nerves hit. He’d just rebutted his leader, and although he’d meant no harm, it wasn’t an action anyone commonly took. It didn’t seem like Ultra Magnus had been particularly receptive to anything, but it simultaneously felt like the rest of the Council, or at least one particular member, would hold him accountable for the agreements made today. This success, though small, felt good.

The silence didn’t linger long this time. Megatron straightened his posture, looking much more confident and regal now that a few bumps in this political mess had been smoothed out. “I appreciate your input and willingness to cooperate, Alpha Trion. May this be the beginning of a long, prosperous unity between our people.”

Ultra Magnus shot a look at the Decepticon leader and Optimus before regaining what little composure he’d dropped. “In that case, let us continue this meeting. There are many more topics to cover.”

And indeed there were, although not many would be reached. The next few hours were spent going over housing Decepticons, altering building codes to accommodate larger frames, and the continued concern the Decepticons had of potential targeted mistreatment. Optimus, the Generals, and the Council occasionally chimed in, but their leaders did most of the talking. Optimus was fine with this, content to sit and take notes, not getting too much more on Ultra Magnus’ bad side.

As the session drew to a close, the attendees gave their mandatory niceties and signed off, taking with them the heavy, stressful atmosphere. Megatron let out a deep vent, relaxing his frame. “...It seems all but confirmed the Council has, or had, ulterior motives. Alpha Trion seems to have retained his role as a voice of reason, though I can’t speak to the merit of the others. Whatever the case, Ultra Magnus’ earlier suggestions regarding our weapons are cause for concern.”

“I must say, it is uncharacteristic of him to be so obvious and unsubtle with his plans.” Shockwave leaned forward with his elbows on the table. “I have seen this behavior once or twice before. He is either planning something else and is trying to throw us off his trail, or he is growing desperate and trying to cover it.”

“Agreed. With these new suspicions, I want you investigating the Council tenfold. Report on even the slightest change or action.”

“It will be done, Lord Megatron.”

“As for the rest of you, continue your tasks as you have been. Any relevant reports from the Council will be sent to you upon their arrival.” Megatron stood, scanning over the table. “Today’s meeting is dismissed.”

As the others filed out, Optimus remained in his seat finishing up some notes. He was so engrossed, he failed to notice Megatron standing behind his seat until a large shadow drowned out the light. Looking up, he was met with a soft pair of optics and a gentle smile. “You brought up some good suggestions today, Autobot.”

Optimus frowned disapprovingly at being called that, but the compliment did feel nice. And so did looking up at his once sworn enemy’s calm face. Leaning back, he let the feeling linger. “Oh really?”

“Mhm. You certainly appear to have a vested interest in aiding us all. And it seems Alpha Trion might have a soft spot for you as well. You’re gaining some backing from those in power.”

“Alpha Trion and I go way back. …He always tried to do good.”

“I wasn’t aware you two had a history. Perhaps you’ll tell me about it one day.” He poked Prime’s finials. “Now then. Would you care to join me for a celebratory refuel?”

“I would.” Putting away the notes, Optimus hopped down and headed out, with Megatron keeping a comparatively slow but steady pace with his grinning companion.

~~~~~~

The screen in the Council Chambers turned off with a flash, emphasizing the dimness of the room. The Senators sat in silence, uncomfortably eyeing Ultra Magnus, who sat silently with his hands laced over his mouth. That call had not gone as he’d hoped, and it was all one mech’s fault. “Your input was unnecessary, Alpha Trion.”

“I do not see it as such. I was asked for my opinion, and I therefore provided it.”

“Megatron would have waited as long as necessary to receive anything from us. Although you may not agree with my methods, the Council had come to a consensus to follow my decision, and you must respect that.”

“Your decisions are unfair to us, and to the Decepticons. It is unethical to continue lying to keep them at a distance and stall peace.”

“That is not your call to make.”

“I have a voice on this Council, Ultra Magnus, and I intend to use it.”

“Perhaps.” Ultra Magnus finally lowered his hands, turning ever so slightly to glance towards his elder. “Although, you seem to have forgotten why we are in this predicament in the first place.”

“I fail to see what you are implying.”

“Then allow me to jog your memory. Who was it that illegally provided a certain gladiator with reading materials? Fiction, history, poetry… Everything you gave him aided in his ‘revolution’.”

“My desire to spread knowledge to those deprived of it is hardly a crime, no matter what the law says.”

“You planted ideas of revolution in his head. You led him towards violence.”

Alpha Trion’s expression grew stern. “No. The system led him towards violence. Megatron was more than willing to find a peaceful resolution to society’s issues, but it was that same society that pushed him over the edge. Anyone would have broken under what he was put through.”

“That is beside the point! Your actions, direct or indirect, led to a violent coup and an eons-long war! Warframes have been prone to anger since the day they were created. They are short tempered, act without thinking, single minded forces of destruction, and you only sped up their inevitable uprising.”

“Ultra Magnus.” The old pink mech stood slowly. “‘Warframes’ were forced into their roles from the day they were created. They were never given a chance to be anything but how we saw them. The world pushed, they pushed back, and were called monsters for it. Whatever happened in the past, don’t let it consume the future. The Decepticons have shown they are more than willing to peacefully cooperate and leave behind our old grievances, and I would suggest you do the same.”

Ultra Magnus didn’t take his optics off his mentor for what felt like hours. The old mech had taken up quite the stubborn habit recently. It was certainly grating to have his plans interrupted, and to be talked down to like a newspark in front of his cohorts was humiliating. After a moment, he stood with his typical calmness, matching Alpha Trion’s stance. Scanning the room, the discomfort on the other Senators’ faces was palpable as they averted their optics. There was enough social unrest happening on the streets, and it seemed to be creeping its way into the Council Chambers. “I will not allow our people to be taken advantage of by liars and usurpers. This meeting is dismissed.”

As the Senators filed out, they dragged every bit of tension along with them, the last of it lingering in the prolonged look between the two disagreeing bots. Soon, even that was gone, and Ultra Magnus was again left alone in the cold, dark room, with Alpha Trion’s chastising replaying in his mind as his only companion.

~~~~~~

It had taken some convincing, but Optimus managed to get Megatron to join him in the mess hall. The Autobot trotted in with the towering mech close behind, only to be greeted by a loud scuffling as the present Decepticonsscrambled to attention at the sight of their leader. The ensuing silence hit like a freight train. Megatron didn’t think he looked particularly scary or angry today, but his subordinates seemed to think otherwise, clearly on edge. He knew his mechs feared him, but he’d always been so preoccupied, he’d never really stopped to think about it. Seeing them now made him feel strange and uncomfortable. Raising a hand a bit more awkwardly than he would’ve liked, he dismissed them, turning back to Optimus. “Why don’t you find us a seat? I will get our drinks.”

Optimus nodded, having taken notice of the uncomfortable atmosphere as well, and went to find somewhere out of the way.

Megatron, on the other hand, retrieved a couple fuel cubes, ignoring the hushed whispers emanating from behind him. Taking a seat at the little corner table, he continued trying to ignore the poorly hidden whispers and glances and focus on the little red bot in front of him. This was easier said than done, as Optimus seemed to be struggling to do the same. Megatron swirled his drink, thinking of what he could say to alleviate some of the tension. After a moment, he raised his cube. “To mild success.”

“To mild success.” Optimus cracked a smile, raising his as well and tapping their drinks together.

Satisfied, the pair took a sip, having drowned out their surroundings for a short time. Even in silence, there was comfort in company.

“Have you any plans for the remainder of your day?” Megatron inquired.

“Mmm…not really, I guess. I was probably just gonna go through some old reports, maybe read a bit…perhaps visit Ratchet… Nothing solid though.”

“Hm. Well if that is the case, then perhaps I could extend an invitation.”

“And what could that be?”

“If I recall correctly, you mentioned a rematch. Something to unwind.”

Optimus smirked and scoffed playfully. “I get the feeling you think you’ll win this time.”

“Your words, not mine.”

“Uh huh… Tell you what. When I win, I get to pick a new book from your library.”

“And when I win, I get to pick it for you.”

“Deal.” Either way, Optimus considered it a win on his end, as did Megatron on his. Optimus would have new reading material regardless, but both bots were indeed eager to have a go at each other again, since their last sparring match had been less than ideal in all aspects.

Finishing up their drinks, the pair cleaned up and headed out, thankful to be out of the awkward air, but leaving behind a room full of stunned gossipers with loads of new material to spread.

Chapter Text

Optimus tightened his grip on his borrowed axe, optics locked on his opponent. The gray mech towered over him, blocking the light in the large training room and casting a massive shadow. Optimus wasn’t intimidated in the slightest, however, grinning under his battle mask. After all, this was a friendly rematch, and both bots were in good spirits, despite Megatron’s scowl. Optimus was sure the mech was just concentrating, but he couldn’t be too careful. There was no room to let his guard down in this situation.

Megatron shifted a foot back a few inches, adjusting his stance to perfection. He studied his smaller opponent diligently, taking in his position and analyzing possible tactics to catch him off guard. He was having some difficulty, as the Autobot’s bright optics and determined look were quite distracting, but he had to focus. Optimus didn’t seem to be interested in making the first move, and Megatron was willing to drag out the anticipation until the perfect moment.

In the blink of an eye, the Decepticon lunged forward and swung, hoping to catch his opponent off guard. To his frustration, and, strangely enough, pride, Optimus masterfully dodged with a backflip. Without hesitation, he ran straight back at Megatron, sliding to dodge another swing as he planted his axe in his opponent’s ankle.

Megatron growled and buckled, briefly losing his footing but just as quickly turning to stab downward.

The sword missed him by a mere few inches, and now it was Prime’s turn to be knocked off-balance. Stumbling, he caught the sideward swing of a sword and went flying into a wall and bounced off. Groaning, he tried to push himself up as he watched Megatron on the opposite end of the room, gloating. The Decepticon slowly began to advance, twirling his swords as an added flourish to accent his upper hand in the battle.

Pompous show off. Struggling to his feet, Optimus chose to wait for Megatron to get just close enough, and on a downward swing, he pulled himself into the air by grappling hook, successfully dodging and landing on an overhead beam.

Megatron looked up at him with a smirk, showing off his pointy canines. “Come down, little Autobot. I promise I don’t bite.”

“You might not bite, but you sure do cut.” Keeping his balance was difficult as he walked along the beams, but he really needed a moment to catch his breath.

“Oh, have a sense of humor. I’m not dangerous.”

“You’re a bad liar.”

Megatron just shrugged and launched himself upwards, reaching for Optimus and just barely missing as the smaller bot swung out of the way to the opposite side of the ceiling, rappelling down to the ground.

Optimus watched from below as Megatron rapidly descended, winding back his arm to strike again. As he was mere moments from landing, Optimus ejected his hook again, aiming for a particular area of Megatron’s back kibble. Just as Optimus began to move, however, Megatron grabbed the cable and flung Optimus into the ground, knocking the wind out of him. Optimus tried to get up again, but was quickly stopped by the tip of a sword knocking the axe from his hands.

“I win.” The Decepticon purred as he spoke, his pride evident.

With a rush of adrenaline, Optimus curled his legs up and kicked out at Megatron’s midsection, throwing him backwards. Scrambling to his feet, Optimus took the opportunity to jump as high as he could, kicking his opponent in the chest again.

Megatron stumbled and tripped, falling onto his back with a loud thud. Before he could even think of getting up, Optimus was standing triumphantly on his chest plate, grinning slyly. “I win.”

The Decepticon squinted and flipped over, straddling Optimus and pinning the Autobot’s hands above his head. Leaning down, his engine purred again. “I will not be denied my victory.”

Optimus shuddered as his warm breath hit his neck and finials. As confusing as the stirring in his spark was, he had to admit it felt nice. “And what if I do deny it?”

“Then I will take it by force.” Megatron’s voice was a low, rumbling whisper, sending Prime’s spark racing even faster. The Decepticon adjusted his hold of his captive’s wrists, gently pressing a finger into the palm of his hand. “I am a Decepticon, after all. I take what I want.”

Prime chuckled, looking his opponent directly in the optics. “And if I still refuse to give it?”

“How bold of you to assume you have a choice in the matter.” He pressed their foreheads together, smiling softly as he loosened his grip just enough for Optimus to wiggle a hand out.

Instead of going for a weapon and continuing the fight, he decided to just let himself enjoy the moment. Closing his eyes, Optimus gently ran his fingertips over Megatron’s chin, trying to commit every nick and bump to memory. “You only beat me because I let you…”

“Is that so? Perhaps we will have to do this again sometime… No holding back.”

“I’d like that…”

Megatron wanted so badly to move just a little bit lower and have their lips meet, but he had to restrain himself. Despite their banter, he had no intention of acting on anything without Prime’s express permission, no matter how much he himself might have wanted something more intimate.

“It’s settled then.” With a heavy spark, he pulled away and helped the Autobot to his feet, perhaps keeping him a bit closer to his frame than he should have. “We will decide on a time later, but for now, you ought to get yourself cleaned up. It seems you have a few scuffs.” He took this opportunity to ‘inspect’ Optimus for injuries and damage, trying to get just a little more time together.

“Oh. Uhm…yeah. I’ll get it checked out right away.” Optimus didn’t want to leave either. He’d hoped the touching and caressing could have continued a bit longer, but was too afraid to ask for it. He stepped away, letting their handhold linger for a moment before dropping his hand back to his side. Even as he left, he paused in the doorframe, giving Megatron a smile and a wave, which the larger mech reciprocated.

Once Optimus was down the hall, Megatron got to cleaning up the training room with a wide, soft smile on his face, quietly humming a little tune.

~~~~~~

Ratchet looked up from his book as the door slid open, pleasantly surprised to see Optimus again. “Heya kid, it’s been a while! You holdin’ up ok?” He raised a brow as he noticed his friend’s damage.

“Yeah, I’m alright. And uh…don’t worry about all this. Megatron and I had a rematch. I hate to admit it, but he won this time.” He sighed as he hopped up on the medical slab, the post-fight events finally starting to settle in.

“I see.” The old doctor slowly rose, gathering up some repair tools. Trudging over, he got to work pounding out dents and buffing scrapes, with several burning questions he wasn’t sure he could ask. “...How’re you two getting along?”

“Uhm…pretty good. The last couple days’ve been calm and pretty relaxing, and today’s meeting wasn’t awful.”

“Glad to hear it, kid. And to see you happy.” Ratchet smiled, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

“Thanks, Ratchet… I appreciate it.” Optimus drifted off into his thoughts again, practically feeling the warmth of his companion on his frame. Megatron’s soft yet piercing optics were locked with his, exchanging unspoken words as they moved closer and closer, before that warmth spread to his lips-

Optimus jolted, shaken that a thought like that would cross his mind. How could he think that about Megatron, of all bots?!

“Did I poke you?”

“Hm? No, no, you’re all good.”

Ratchet sighed, setting down his tools. “Somethin’ on your mind, Prime?”

He hesitated to answer. Despite his earlier talks with his friend, Optimus didn’t know how Ratchet would take any of this. He tensed as he thought about it, balling his fists.

“Don’t feel like you have to talk about it, ok? Just…remember, I’m here for you.” With another sigh, he got back to work.

The two remained in silence until Optimus was fully repaired, the awkwardness eating at both of them.

“Good as new, kid.”

Optimus quietly inspected the work and moved his joints around. It wasn’t that he doubted Ratchet’s work, he just needed something to do. “...Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Promise you won’t get upset.”

Taking a seat again, the old bot looked up at his friend, stern but soft. “I’m here to help you, not to judge you. I want you to be ok.”

He fidgeted, second guessing his choice, but decided to proceed. “What do you do if you…start having thoughts about someone?..”

Ratchet made a note to strangle Megatron the next time the Decepticon had the misfortune of crossing his path. “Well, it depends. Are these thoughts ones you wanna entertain?”

Optimus again paused to think, but nodded weakly. “I think so… Maybe? I don’t know…”

“Alright then. D’you think this is something you might wanna explore? Maybe take it further?”

He didn’t respond this time, holding back tears. All he could think about was how much he wanted to be with Megatron again, and he hated himself for it more with every passing second.

Ratchet gave him a moment before taking his friend’s hand and gently rubbing it. “I know it’s hard, kid, and I really don't envy you being in this position. This kinda stuff can be strange and confusing, doubly so for you, but…maybe you owe it to yourself. You’ve spent so long helping and taking care of others, and you ought to extend that to yourself a bit more often.”

“But…what if I’m wrong? Isn’t it wrong of me to…to even think about feeling like this?”

Reaching up, Ratchet thumbed away a tear that had trickled out. “That’s not something I can decide for you, Optimus. …Y’know…you’re a pretty processor-driven bot. Try giving your spark a listen, it might tell you somethin’ you didn’t realize.”

Optimus sniffled, hardly any less confused. “...Why’re you giving me this advice? You know what this is about.”

“Cus it’s not about me, kid. It’s bigger than that. Like I said, I’m here to help and not to judge.”

Prime’s lip quivered. “...I dunno what I’d do without you, Ratchet.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be around for a while. I don’t have plans on going any time soon.” He got up with a grunt, giving the young bot another pat. “Why don’t you go get some rest? Give your body and mind a break.”

A break? Now? After he’d already had so much time off for various reasons, he was supposed to take a break? Optimus wanted to protest, but thought better of it. Perhaps Ratchet was right. No Ratchet was right. He owed it to himself to recharge and have some time with and away from his thoughts. He could take this on with a fresh mind, if he could clear it enough to fall asleep. Then, of course, there were the dreams…

“Yeah…a nap sounds good right now.” He nodded and slid off the table, looking significantly more deflated than when he arrived.

To Prime’s surprise, he was pulled down into a firm hug. “I’m proud of you, kid. Don’t you ever forget that.”

Optimus didn’t reply, only returning the hug. It was nice, and he didn’t want to let go, but he had to. He pulled away and slowly trudged out, returning to his empty, lonely room.

~~~~~~

Shockwave had been hard at work all day, eagerly going through all the new reports he was getting from his subordinates. Well, ‘eager’ might have been an exaggeration. It was more so that Shockwave finally had something familiar to do and distract him from the fact that he essentially had nothing else to do outside of work. He’d been in his office for hours, poring over stacks of datapads and in a really deep flow of concentration, when he was suddenly ripped from his easy bliss by a knock on the door. With a sigh, he allowed his visitor entrance, and to his pleasant surprise, was greeted by Blurr.

“Hi, how’re you doing? Happy to be back at work? How’s your day been? Did you refuel this morning? This afternoon? Have you got up to stretch? Ooooooh, wanna go for a walk?”

“A pleasure to see you as well, Blurr. My answers, in order, are: good, yes, good, yes, no, no, and no.” He replied not looking up from a particularly boring report.

Blurr put his hands on his hips, pouting. “Come on, you can spare a few minutes! Just a quick lap around the ship, it’ll be fun!”

“No thank you, I have plenty to finish here.”

Blurr pouted harder, plopping down in a corner. “Fine, then I’ll just stay here!”

Shockwave didn’t respond, too engrossed in his boring, dry readings.

Minutes passed, feeling like an eternity to Blurr. In no time, he started fidgeting, bouncing his legs, jittering, and looking around restlessly at his minimal surroundings. He was bored, and the silence was irritating. “So are you like, ever going to leave this room?”

“Not until these are all thoroughly checked and filed.” Shockwave still didn’t look up.

“How long will that take?”

“All day, most likely. I need to triple check everything for accuracy.”

“Why? You always get it right on the first try.”

“Well, yes, but it’s more of a precaution.”

Blurr rolled his optics. “And I thought I worried too much.” Strolling over, he tried to insert himself into his partner’s tunnel vision. “Why don’t you take a short break? Just a few minutes. Sit and do nothing, or something you enjoy.”

“I enjoy reading reports.”

“Something that doesn’t involve your job. You’ve gotta have something else you like!”

Shockwave took a minute to think, but returned empty handed. He’d never considered it, but he really didn’t have any hobbies. All he did was work, and occasionally rest.

Noticing his conundrum, Blurr lowered the datapad in Shockwave’s hands, trying again to get his attention. “Look, I know you take your work seriously, and I admire that, but it’s not a bad idea to branch out. We talked about figuring out who you are, and what better way to do that than to give yourself the opportunity?”

Shockwave was still hesitant, but Blurr’s logic was sound. Some things could only be done through trial and error, or being in the field. “...I suppose a short walk couldn’t hurt.”

“That’s the spirit!” The excited blue bot grabbed his partner by the claws, hardly waiting for him to get up before dragging him out the door.

The halls were relatively empty, with only the occasional bot snapping to attention as the pair passed. It was early afternoon, and most of the Decepticons on board were hard at work keeping the place running, much to Shockwave’s approval. He still wasn’t particularly thrilled at the idea of being around large groups of his subordinates for various reasons, and figured this was probably the best case scenario. Despite being on this walk and doing his best to listen to whatever Blurr was rambling on about, he kept thinking about all the reports he was certainly going to fall behind on and not relaxing in the slightest. He was so engrossed in his own thoughts, in fact, that he didn’t see the bright yellow flash of a car round the corner and crash straight into his ankle, sending him face first into the floor.

“Sorry!” Bumblebee didn’t even pause before speeding off again, only to be caught by Blitzwing.

“Tag! Jou’re it!” Random giggled, patting the roof of the little car.

“Awww, no fair! The giant grape got in my way!” If a car could pout, Bumblebee certainly was.

What’s a grape? Shockwave grumbled as he got up, rubbing his sore chin. “Perhaps I should request the installation of traffic safety signs aboard the ship.”

“Don’t be like zhat, we’re just having some fun!” Even as Bumblebee had gone back to robot mode, Blitzwing kept patting his head, bouncing his hand up and down as if dribbling a ball.

Shockwave gave him a disapproving look.

“Don’t look at me like zhat, it’s not my fault jou’re boring!”

The disapproving look intensified.

“Geez, lighten up! Maybe if you did, you’d learn to actually enjoy things.” Bumblebee brushed his partner’s hand away, much to the bigger bot’s disappointment.

“I’ll have you know, I enjoy plenty of things.”

“Oh really? Like what?”

“Writing reports, filing reports, and performing my assigned tasks.”

“Booooooooo! Laaaaaaaaame.” Bumblebee gave him an enthusiastic thumbs-down, as did Blitzwing.

Normally he wouldn’t care about a reaction such as this, or would at least hide it, but it did hurt a bit. A lot of things had started changing since Blurr re-entered his life, and he presumed this was one of them. He wanted so badly to just go back to his office and lock the door, escaping into his comfortable loneliness, but a warm nuzzle from his partner made him reevaluate. Blurr had pulled him out of there for the express purpose of doing something different, and the guilt of abandoning that venture outweighed his desire to leave. “If this is such an issue for the two of you, then perhaps you wouldn’t mind doing something to mitigate it.”

Bumblebee frowned, rather confused. “Huh? You wanna like, play a game or something?”

“Precisely.”

The yellow Autobot stared in confused silence, mouth slightly agape. This was weird. Something was totally up with the guy, there was no way this wasn’t a prank. …A prank, huh? His surprise gave way to a mischievous grin as his brain cells got to work. “Saaaay…why don’t you help me and Blitzwing with a little something? You can change your shape, right?”

“I can.” He’d mostly only ever morphed into Longarm, and honestly dreaded the potential of being asked to do that again.

“Ok, so I need you to turn into Megatron.”

No, this was much worse.

~~~~~~

“This is demeaning.” Shockwave sat on the ground with his knees pulled up, already regretting his choices. He and Blurr had been dragged behind a hallway corner by Blitzwing and Bumblebee, the latter of which gave them instructions under the eager support of his partner-in-crime.

“Hey, you’re free to back out whenever you want,” Bumblebee chided. “But then, I’d have to call you chicken.” He started making clucking noises, much to the confusion of the one bot who had no idea what chickens were. Shockwave just made a note to have the clearly mentally ailed individual assessed by a psychiatrist.

“You really don’t have to do this.” Blurr gently squeezed his partner’s claw, knowing very well how his partner felt about this.

“It is quite alright. My mind is made up.” Shockwave slumped in defeat and regret at the sound of footsteps approaching. As hesitant as he was to do this and potentially besmirch the good name of his leader, this is what he was supposed to do, right? Something different and outside his comfort zone. Taking a calming vent in and out, he concentrated, and slowly, his body morphed into a perfect copy of Megatron.

“Go get 'em, tiger.” Bumblebee snickered in unison with Blitzwing, exchanging a knowing glance.

The disguised Shockwave gave the pair a Look, and stepped out into the path of the unsuspecting bot, who stopped dead in his tracks, freezing at attention. “L-Lord Megatron!”

“Ah, Roadblock, just the mech I wanted to see. Tell me, you are not currently occupied, are you?”

“Not at all, Sir! I uh…I was just on my way back to work!” He totally hadn’t been slacking off for hours.

“A shame, really. I suppose I will have to find another to fulfill this important task for me.”

“I’m sure I’m up for it, Sir!”

“Hmm. Very well then. In that case, I need you to find a key.”

“A…A key? For what?”

“A key…” Shockwave-Megatron dramatically looked down and away, placing a fist over his chest. “To my spark.”

Roadblock slowly blinked in utter disbelief at what was going on.

Primus, this is uncouth. I can not, in good conscience, proceed with this how they wanted me to. “‘A Key to My Spark.’ It is the title of a book.”

“O-Oh! Of course, Lord Megatron, I’ll get right on that!” With a wave of his ‘leader’s’ hand, Roadblock scurried off in a panic.

As soon as the poor bot was out of earshot, the two perpetrators collapsed onto the floor in a fit of hysterical laughter. Shockwave morphed back to his usual self with a grumbly sigh, allowing Blurr to take his claws again.

“That…That was so good!” Bumblebee howled, barely able to breathe. “Ohohoho, this is gonna be great, everyone’s gonna love this!”

Shockwave didn’t understand what was so funny about the interaction. All he’d done was confuse some poor worker, who was now on a search for a book that didn’t exist. “If that is all, then I will take my leave of you.”

“Awww, come now!” Blitzwing had calmed down some, laying on his stomach and kicking his feet like a schoolgirl, his red, sharp-toothed grin covering his entire face. “Jou had fun, admit it!”

“Did I?” He presented as both a question and a statement.

“Mmm…perhaps!”

Blitzwing was clearly going to be of no help for a while. Rolling his optic, Shockwave decided to just get back to work, certain he’d have more of a backlog now. He trudged off, trying to ignore the echoing sounds of laughter that grated on his audials.

“Hey.” Blurr trotted up next to him, resuming his hold of Shockwave’s claw. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think they would go that far.”

“No need to apologize.”

“Well, you were clearly uncomfortable, you could’ve backed out! Who cares what he would’ve called you?”

“I had promised to join you on a walk, so I did. That is all.”

“Shockwave…it’s good to leave your comfort zone, but you don’t have to force yourself if you’re that uncomfortable with something. You can say ‘no’ to things. …For what it’s worth, I think you’re a really good actor.”

A good actor… Is pretending all I’m good at? The Decepticon didn’t speak again until the pair reached his office, running through his thoughts. He sat back down quietly and picked up a datapad, resuming work precisely where he’d left off. Glancing up, he saw that Blurr was still there, looking up and down a shelf of datapads.

“Do I disappoint you?”

Blurr whipped his head around to face Shockwave. “What?”

“Well? Do I?”

“Wh- No! Why would you even think that?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I turn down your offers of time off, I never spend long with you when I do accept, I don’t- …I have nothing to give, Blurr. I have no hobbies, no interests, I am nothing outside of my work and my one occasionally useful oddity. Whatever qualities you saw in Longarm, I do not possess.”

“Do you think I can't feel the same about you as I did him?”

“No.”

“You… Ok…” Blurr stared at his partner,a look of confusion and sadness slowly washing over his face. They’d just started this journey together, was Shockwave already leaving him? “Do you think I'm lying to you?”

Shockwave hesitated. “...I can respect you trying to let me down easy.”

At this, Blurr began to tear up. “So what if you’re not like him? I promised to help you figure this out, and I meant it!”

“Why?”

“Because I slagging love you, and I wanna help you!”

“But why? That’s what I don’t understand!” Dropping his datapad, Shockwave buried his face in his hands, trying to make sense of what he saw as senseless.

“Not everything has a clear reason, Shockwave. Not everything makes sense.” Drying his tears, Blurr hopped up on the desk, gently caressing his partner’s hands. “So what if you’re different now? Or if you spend all your time working? I promised I’d help figure out who you are. I want you to have fun, and to have hobbies, and a life outside this room, and I know you’ll discover all that in your own time. You doubt my intentions, and this is all going to need a lot of trust. Trust we’re having to rebuild from nothing, but I want to do this, and I hope someday, you’ll see that.”

Shockwave slowly shook his head. “Everything I was for centuries was a lie… Everything about me has been fake! My persona, my relationships, my words, my actions… I am a Decepticon! I deceive! We lie to the point where that’s all we do! There is so little trust, I don’t know how else to live!”

“Then let this be our first exercise.” Carefully, Blurr slid his hands under Shockwave’s, lifting his face to meet his gaze. “Trust me that I’ll help you. Trust me that I’ll be here, and that I have no need or wish to lie to you.”

“I…” The words caught in Shockwave’s throat. What if he made the wrong choice? Logically speaking, Blurr hadn’t given him a single reason for distrust. The Autobot had been nothing but eager and supportive since that night in the medbay, but trust was such a foreign concept to him…

“I trust you, Blurr…” Shockwave closed his optic, leaning in to tap their foreheads together. His little companion did him one better, peppering his helm with little, quick kisses.

“Then I’ll trust you in turn.” Blurr pulled back, smiling softly. “Now then, why don’t I help you finish these reports?”

“Hmm…as appealing as your offer is, desk work was never your strength, my dear.”

“Then I’ll just provide moral support!” The blue speedster eagerly clambered onto his partner’s shoulders, straddling his neck and leaning on his helm. It was a rare occasion where he got to feel tall, plus it was really warm up there, like a big, heated slab.

Shockwave chuckled, giving his partner a tickle. “Very well, then. I appreciate having my own personal cheerleader.”

“Any time, big guy. Any time.” Blurr was already getting sleepy, having settled into his surprisingly comfortable perch. “I love you, Shockwave.”

“And I love you, Blurr.” He hoped that would never change.

Chapter Text

However hard he tried, Optimus couldn’t get to sleep. He closed his optics, cleared his processor as much as he could, tossed and turned for hours, but despite how tired he was, just couldn’t fall into recharge. His processor was plagued with politics, worry, confusion, and Megatron, their most recent interaction being at the peak of this. Optimus could still feel the Decepticon’s warmth radiating over him and vividly remembered the texture of Megatron’s face, just what he’d wanted. No, he’d wanted more, and he refused to admit it. They’d been mere inches apart and his impulses had nearly taken over, but he’d stopped himself; there was no point in upsetting his companion and risking ruining their shaky political alliance. Besides, that action would be entirely uncalled for. Megatron was an awful person, and that was that.

He exhaled, rolling over for the thousandth time and staring at the photo of his team. He missed the times when things were simpler. …Were they ever simpler? Or was he just more blind and naive back then? It hadn’t even been that long ago, but these months had felt remarkably long. He missed Earth. He missed his friends, and when they were all together. Himself, Ratchet, Bumblebee, Prowl, Sari, Bulkhead…

Bulkhead.

Without a second thought, Optimus dialed him, and heard the distinct ‘click’ of an answered call seconds later.

“Boss bot! It’s been so long, how you doin’? I heard you got put on a Decepticon ship.”

The green bot’s boundless joy never failed to bring a smile to Prime’s face. “I’m ok, Bulkhead, getting by. How about you? What’ve you been up to all this time?”

“Oh! You’ll never believe this, but I got put to work as a Space Bridge engineer! I mostly just do consults and stuff, but sometimes they let me do adjustments and hands-on work!”

“Wow, that’s amazing! I take it you’re having a good time with it?”

“Even better! I’m having a great time with it! I finally get to do what I’ve always wanted, and you know what makes it even better? I’m fixing up that Space Bridge in Detroit right now!”

That got Optimus to sit up. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, that one we had on top of Sumdac Tower! It got a little banged up, but I think I can have it up and running again soon. Ultra Magnus doesn’t really care about this one and wrote it off as unsalvageable, but I think it’d be great to have a fast way to get to Earth, don’t you?”

It was as if the stars had aligned. This could be the perfect opportunity! “Say, Bulkhead, I uh…I’ve got a little situation on my end you might be able to help out with.”

“Oh yeah? What’s up?”

After some hesitation over the ethics of disclosing top-secret government information, Optimus decided that the potential benefits outweighed the current negatives, and filled Bulkhead in on Cybertron’s fuel shortage issues and his hope of striking up some sort of deal with Earth.

Bulkhead was quiet for a minute afterwards, deep in thought. “Hmm… I dunno, Prime. I can’t really guarantee anything one way or another. Seems kinda risky.”

“Yeah, I…figured it was kind of a long shot. I’ll let them know at the next meeting to shift focus to other options.”

“Now hold on, I didn’t say your idea was completely off the table. I’m sure Sumdac would understand! Besides, he’s probably got tons of waste material from his factories he doesn’t need. Oh, and there’s the crystals, too.”

“...Crystals?”

“Yeaahhh, there’s been these weird blue crystals popping up all around the area. We’re not sure what they are, since we don’t have the equipment to analyze them, but they have pretty high energy readings. They look an awful lot like energon crystals, so maybe that’d be something to check out!”

“Sounds promising. I’ll make a note of that and try to get a sample back here. Who knows, maybe it’ll be just what we’re looking for.”

“After what you just told me, I hope so too. …Sooooooo, were you serious about coming back to Earth?” Bulkhead sounded hopeful, like a kid insinuating he wanted a cookie.

“The Decepticons seemed on board with the plan, so yeah, I think so.”

“Awesome! I can’t wait to see you again, Prime!”

“It’ll be great to get caught up in-person again. And remember, absolutely no one can know about this, ok? There’s something going on, and I don’t like it.”

“You got it, Boss. I’ll make sure everything’s sorted out and ready for you here. I’ll keep you updated, ok?”

“Sounds good, Bulkhead. I’ll talk to you later. Tell Sari I said hi!”

“Yessir, Boss bot! See you soon!” With an unseen salute, Bulkhead hung up, and Optimus was again left to sit with his thoughts in silence atop his cold, lonely bed, albeit with a glimmer of hope in his spark.

~~~~~~

Afternoon had passed into evening, and Megatron too had spent much of that time trying to distract himself. He had Optimus in the perfect position to make a move, or to bring up his feelings, and he was honestly beating himself up over his lack of initiative. Had things been different, he probably would have said something, but their relationship and the politics of their race were just too fragile to risk anything right now. Perhaps someday, but… No, he couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. Not after everything he’d done, and everyone he’d hurt.

He sighed and set his book down on the desk, rubbing his face. He had so much on his plate and that one day off had done little to clear any of his problems. At least he’d been able to unwind a bit with that sparring match, but it ended up being yet another thing in an ever growing mountain of stress. All he could think about was Optimus.

Sitting with those thoughts for a few more minutes, Megatron went to pick his book up again in hopes of a distraction, but a sudden, sharp pain in his wrist made him hiss. He could barely even move it, as if something inside it were frozen or stuck. Perhaps he’d sprained it while sparring, which was yet another thing to toss onto the stress pile. He wasn’t sure he was really up for going out again tonight and tried to ignore it, but the more he did, the worse it got. Relenting, Megatron figured a quick trip to the medbay could be beneficial. Maybe he could get some advice from his doctor while getting this little issue fixed.

~~~~~~

The lights in the medbay had been dimmed, adding to its sleepy atmosphere. Ratchet had just finished tidying up from a busy day when he heard the door slide open and his next patient walk in. He didn’t bother turning around as he unpacked his tools again with a grumble, figuring it was just another poor sod who had a little cut or a missing arm. “Siddown on the slab, I’ll get you in a second.”

“Is Knockout here?”

The old doctor froze, displeased to hear the all too familiar voice of Megatron. “No, I gave him the night off.”

“He is supposed to be on duty.”

“Yeah, well, he’s been working hard. He deserves some quality time with his conjunx.”

Megatron supposed that was a good reason. After all, one day with Optimus hadn’t been enough, either.

Having found what he needed, Ratchet finally turned to look at the Decepticon with a disgusted frown. “Now, waddyou need?”

“It can wait until Knockout returns.” This was getting awkward, and he started to leave.

“...Wait. Sit down, your wrist looks bad.”

“My wrist is fine.” Megatron said as his hand was now bent at a very unnatural angle.

Ratchet crossed his arms and frowned in disapproval, which was enough to get Megatron to cave, in conjunction with his now blinding pain.

Seating himself, Megatron let the doctor work, trying to avoid interaction, but the awkwardness was just getting to be too much. It was rather confusing for the Decepticon, as it wouldn’t have usually bothered him like this, but lately, things had just been…different. “...How have you been?”

Ratchet stopped poking around in Megatron’s wires for a moment. “...Been fine.”

“That is…good to hear.”

“Oh, can it, Buckethead. Spare me this slag.”

And for a while, he did, but the building torrent of word vomit was unstoppable. “...It has been a while since we’ve spoken properly.”

“Uh huh.”

“...If I recall, the last time I received medical treatment from you was after a particularly unsuccessful protest.”

“And if I recall, that’s when you shoved a cannon in my face and told me to frag off or you’d blow me to bits for disagreeing with you.”

“Ah. Yes, I…do apologize for that.”

Ratchet paused again, blinking in disbelief. An apology from Megatron, whether genuine or not, was still an apology. From Megatron. “...Mhm, sure.”

Megatron glanced away as the atmosphere only got stranger, fidgeting with his free hand. “...I know I wronged you.”

“You think?”

He didn’t really have a good response to that, so clammed up again.

As Ratchet poked and prodded his patient’s pistons, he couldn’t help taking a few quick glances up at the guy. It was strange enough that Megatron was allowing anyone but Knockout to work on him, but to apologize and try to strike up a conversation was entirely unlike him. What was with this sudden reminiscing? And that odd, pensive look? He was almost certain it had something to do with Optimus, but who knows? “...How’ve you been all this time? I’m surprised you haven’t fallen apart without me around.”

“I have been getting by fine.”

“You were never a good liar.”

Megatron rolled his optics, smiling ever so slightly. “If either of us is a bad liar, it’s you.”

“Oh, really?”

“Honesty was always your strong suit. More like bluntness, I suppose.”

“Comes with the job.”

“...I needed it, you know.”

“Why d’you think you always got the worst of it from me?”

“I suppose it was deserved. I was…rather reckless on occasion.”

“On occasion?! There wasn’t a single match or public event you left without a few dozen dents, or a missing part!” Ratchet was now all riled up, shaking his screwdriver in the Decepticon’s face.

Megatron was pleased with the reaction, smirking. “I see you have not changed, doctor.”

“Like hell, I haven’t! I keep having to deal with morons like you with zero self-preservation skills! I mean seriously, having to reattach ten arms in one day is absolutely ridiculous!”

“Hm. Something ought to be done about that.”

“You’re tellin’ me! It’s always the same bots, too. It’s getting very concerning.” With a huff, he got back to his poking.

Being chewed out while getting fixed, just like the good ol’ days… It was nice.

“...You changed.”

Megatron hadn’t been expecting that. It was jarring to be presented with it so bluntly, but he expected nothing less from the grumpy old medic. “Of course I did. You were there for all of it.”

“I’m not talkin’ about the Revolution, or the War, or even this Treaty. I mean…this.” He gestured up and down the large frame before him.

Megatron raised a brow inquisitively. “...I am aware my body looks different now.”

“Not that! Primus, you’re still as dense as ever. No, I mean you. Your attitude. You stopped yelling at everything, you don’t scowl nearly as much, no empty threats of violence or demotion, you’re just being…nice! Well, mostly.”

Surely, Ratchet hadn’t been the first to notice, but he was the first to mention it. Perceptive as ever. He really hasn’t changed after all these years. There was comfort in that knowledge. “I do not know what you speak of.”

“Hm. Whatever you say.” And yet again, he got back to work.

The silence persisted for a while, new worries swirling in Megatron’s processor. Ratchet had always been naturally perceptive, so him taking notice of Megatron’s changes wasn’t unusual, but it was everyone else he worried about. Had the rest of his crew noticed? His Generals? The Autobots? Optimus? …How could he not know? I probably show it to him the most out of anyone else! …Does he find it strange and off putting? It certainly is different from how I have behaved in the past towards him, but is it really that strange and noticeable?

“How’re you getting along with Optimus?”

Megatron’s engine sputtered. “Pardon?”

“The two of you spend a lot of time together, in and out of meetings. He’s my friend, and I want to make sure he’s ok.”

“Then why not ask him?”

“You’re dodging the question.”

“...We get along well enough.”

“You know, the two of you really like giving the same non-answers.”

He’s spoken with Optimus about this? Oh, of course he has, they’ve been teammates for ages. Optimus trusts him with his life. “Is that so?”

“Mhm. Now are you gonna give me an actual answer, or do I need to mess your wrist back up?”

“You drive a hard bargain, doctor. Very well, I shall indulge your fancies. We get along fine, and I tolerate him.”

“Like I said, you’re a bad liar.”

“Don’t patronize me, Autobot. You forget who’s ship you are on.” As if Megatron would dare do anything.

“Puh-lease, if anyone’s being patronized, it’s me. You’ve been wearing your spark on your sleeve. You really think I don’t see how you act around him?”

So it is about that. Is he trying to get me to admit to something? Does he suspect anything? How much does he know? …Did Knockout talk?! “I fail to see what you are implying.”

“You remember when you brought him in here after he passed out?”

Megatron had completely forgotten Ratchet saw that little ‘interaction.’

“Look. I’m not mad, I’m just…worried.” Finishing the job, Ratchet went ahead and closed up his patient’s plating. “He’s a good kid, but he stresses and internalizes a lotta stuff. I dunno what’s going on with you two, but I want him to be comfortable.”

It was a very compelling appeal, and one Megatron found himself unable to resist answering. “...He has a lot to worry about.”

“I’ll say. Though, he seems to do better around you. Meeting up with you outside of work seems to help with some of the stress.”

“Hm.” He calms down because of me?

“I know he won’t admit it, but he likes being around you, and I think that goes both ways. Deny it all you want, but you have a soft spot for him.”

It was a whole lot more than a soft spot, but Megatron just nodded half-heartedly.

“...Take care of him, ok? Kid needs some decent bots in his life.”

Decent? Me? He must be mistaken. Megatron just nodded again.

Ratchet could tell when a conversation had dried up, and didn’t push it further as he cleaned up. “...You’re good to go.”

Megatron gave his wrist a twirl and a few bends, confirming he was indeed ok to leave. Ratchet’s work was as clean as ever, though. “Thank you.”

“...You’re welcome.”

He hesitated to leave, as if he had something else to say, but the words wouldn’t form. After a minute, Megatron walked out, his slow footsteps receding into silence.

Ratchet sat back in his chair and listened to the ambient hum of the ship, his own processor now abuzz reminiscing old memories.

~~~~~~

A few relatively uneventful days passed as the ship went about its business. Megatron had been occupied with meetings and a slew of new personal issues to consider, and Optimus had been busy with the same, on top of planning the trip back to Earth. He’d been able to put together a list of individuals he wanted to come, as well as a plan to actually get there in the first place. Overall, he felt pretty good about their chances.

Standing outside the door to Megatron’s private office, Optimus read over his plan of action once more before knocking. A gruff voice granted him entry, and what he saw gave him pause. At a messy desk, surrounded by stacks of datapads, was a very tired Megatron, in a state Optimus was surprised the typically vain and prideful bot would allow himself to be seen in.

“Ah, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I wanted to run my plan by you for approval to finalize our trip to Earth.”

“Hm. Let’s have a look, shall we?” Taking the datapad, Megatron gave it a thorough once-over, nodding in approval as he went.

“So, waddyou think?”

“Everything looks sound to me. Although, you will need to adjust your requested companions.”

“Is there an issue with it?”

“I will not be going.”

“You…aren’t coming?”

Seeing Prime’s shoulders and finials drop was nearly enough for Megatron to immediately rescind his statement, but he persisted. “I have much to do here, and can not allocate any time for even this trade mission.”

“But this trade deal is for you! Sure, we could do it, but it’d be better if you were there. It’s always good for the leader to be present for these kinds of events. You went to the trading outpost, so how’s this any different?”

“I understand, but I simply can not abandon my work here. Besides, your human allies will be much more comfortable without me there. I entrust this to you, Optimus.”

He should’ve been thrilled to hear his name again, but the context soured it. “But…”

Megatron could have melted, seeing the sadness in Prime’s optics. He almost caved again, but the idea of going back to Earth was not a pleasant one. He instinctively grimaced, causing Optimus to look away.

“I’m sorry I presumed, I should’ve asked you first. I’ll go ahead and inform the others to start preparing.” Retrieving his datapad, Optimus began to slowly shuffle out, feeling rather foolish. Of course he wouldn’t want to go back to Earth, he hates it there! He’s probably right, being seen might slow things down or end my plan altogether. What was I thinking, dropping this on him like that? Why would- …No. No, I was thinking. I was thinking it’s important for the beneficiary to be present in order to make a deal. Sure, he could just do a video call like Ultra Magnus, but Ultra Magnus is just avoiding us at this point! There’s no way Megatron really thinks that’s a good idea!

In a second, he’d turned around and came marching back, much to Megatron’s surprise. “No, you know what? I’m sick of this! I’m sick of everyone thinking they can just tell me what to do and walk all over me these past few months! I have as much of a voice in this as anyone, right? You like telling me to stand up for myself? Have a back strut? Well, here you go! Here it is!” He was back at the desk, palms slammed firmly against it. “You’re going with us back to Earth whether you like it or not!”

Megatron blinked, eyes wide, as he rationalized what he was witnessing. He was overcome with a sense of pride for the little Autobot, though it was still irritating to be spoken to in such a way. He was curious, however, how far he could push this, and in what direction. “I have given you my answer, and it is final.”

Optimus leaned closer, glowering. “That wasn’t a request.”

The Decepticon narrowed his optics as a smirk began to form. Leaning forward on his elbows, he tilted Prime’s chin up, much to the smaller bot’s chagrin. “And if I refuse to comply?”

“You will.” How he wished there was a way to suppress his blushing.

Megatron leaned even closer, running his thumb just under those pouty, glistening lips. He’s right there, in the perfect position! Now’s your chance! What?! No! We are in the middle of an argument, how would that make anything better?! “Will I?”

Now, it was Prime’s turn to smirk. “How bold of you to assume you have any choice in the matter.”

“Using my own words against me? How charming. Although, I suppose you do make a compelling case.”

“Good. We leave a week from today. I’ll send you more details soon.” Optimus quickly pulled away and headed out, leaving Megatron to scream internally.

He flopped head first onto his desk, optics unfocussed and staring, in absolute disbelief at how easily he’d just been played. He was right there! You had him exactly where you wanted him, it couldn't have possibly been a more perfect opportunity! No, you can’t do anything without his permission! If you recall, he is your sworn enemy and despises you! Well, if he is your ‘sworn enemy’, then why is he so pretty?! Why is he so receptive to your very poorly masked advances?! Is he afraid I would do something if he were to express his discomfort? Of course he is! After how you treated him for so long, he would be terrified to anger you. He plays along to keep you placated…that’s all it will ever be, and you need to accept that. …How did he just best me?! Why did I allow myself to cave…

Megatron remained in that position with those thoughts for some time. After a while, he was shaken back to reality by another knock on the door. Quickly, he sat up, trying to put on some semblance of having himself together. “Enter.”

In walked a very nervous ground frame, shaking slightly as he stood at attention. “Roadblock reporting, Lord Megatron, Sir! I searched everywhere I could think of, but I was tragically unable to find the book you requested! My sincerest apologies, Lord Megatron!”

“Book? What book?”

“The one you requested I find, Sir! ‘A Key to My Spark!”

“I do not recall making such a request.”

“My apologies, Sir, maybe I misheard the title. Although, I did record our interaction so I wouldn’t forget!”

“Would you show me?”

The nervous bot pulled up a small video feed projection from his arm, clearly depicting Megatron dramatically requesting a nonexistent romance novel.

This was going to be a very long week.

Chapter Text

The next week aboard the Revenge had passed with little incident outside of the usual headaches and shenanigans, as well as a few tossed wrenches. Ratchet hadn’t taken the news of Bumblebee’s new squeeze particularly well, but it wasn’t like he could do much besides express his displeasure. Knockout had been busy looking into Blurr’s odd integrated weaponry, but had his work constantly interrupted by various dock workers in need of limb replacements. It seemed nothing had been done about that yet. But, the ship largely went about its usual business.

Optimus had made sure to alert his chosen companions of their imminent departure early enough to allow them plenty of time to prepare. As he walked towards the dock, he looked over his list and plans one more time to make absolutely, one hundred percent certain everything was right. He didn’t notice any of the doors slide open on his trek, or the bots who stepped out of his way, and was far too engrossed in his datapad to notice the large, gray mass before him, only looking up when he finally ran into it. “Uhp…sorry!”

Megatron glanced down, having barely felt the smaller bot run into him. “What a pleasant surprise. I take it you are on your way to the shuttle as well?”

Optimus nodded.

“Then perhaps you would not mind if I join you.”

Prime’s cheeks warmed, his finials perking up. “Oh, yeah, of course! I’d like that.”

Megatron couldn’t help smiling, despite the few present onlookers trying to seem inconspicuous. Nodding politely, he walked slowly, allowing his smaller companion to set their pace as the pair chatted about nothing in particular, moving closer and closer to their destination.

Upon the pair’s entrance, they were greeted by quite a sight. Blitzwing and Bumblebee were tearfully and dramatically saying their goodbyes, as if actors in an over-the-top period piece. Next to them, at some distance, was a very disgruntled Ratchet, arms crossed and fuming. Present as well were the Twins, who’d essentially begged their way into going, next to the exhausted husk of Jazz, who was leaning on some boxes, all closely scrutinized by a very attentive Lugnut.

This scene gave the two pause, not only for its uncanny resemblance to some bizarre Renaissance painting, but Bumblebee and Blitzwing’s antics made them feel awkward. Suddenly very aware of how close they were standing, Megatron and Optimus scooted apart a few inches, taking a vested interest in the minute details of the floor.

“Are you ready to leave?” Ratchet grumbled, gesturing at the drama queens. “I dunno how much more of this I can take.”

“Yes, it looks like everything’s ready for departure.” Optimus moved towards the shuttle, thankful for the distraction. Despite being the first aboard the ship, he remained standing, waiting for the others to board and take a seat. It didn’t take long to notice a certain yellow hatchback was missing. “Bumblebee, we’re ready, you coming?”

Bumblebee was too busy to hear his boss. Having dropped his act once everyone else had boarded, he stood outside the shuttle, cupping his partner’s face, both nearly in tears. “I’ll take lots of pictures of cows, ok? I really want you to see ‘em…”

“Of course, my little bug… I vill await jour return with eager anticipation.”

Sniffling loudly, Bumblebee wrapped his arms snugly around the Decepticon’s neck. “I’m gonna miss you, Blitz. Don’t forget about me, ok?”

“I couldn’t if I tried.” Blitzwing’s cold exterior briefly cracked as his brow furrowed and his lip quivered, before just as quickly turning back to stone.

“Aw, c’mon, don’t look at me like that.” Bumblebee smiled, laughing softly as he placed a gentle kiss on his partner’s lips. “I’m not leaving forever.”

“I know…” Blitzwing’s head spun around. “But zhat doesn’t make it easier! Who am I going to fight while jou’re gone?!”

“Cool your jets, hothead.” Kissing the upset, red face did nothing to calm it. “Maybe you can use this time to…I dunno, solo train a bit, so you can finally beat me fair and square.” The smug tone didn’t help either.

Blitzwing growled and pouted, but quickly returned a little peck on the cheek. “I beat jou fair and square every time!”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Blitzbrain.” Another kiss was all it took to get the Decepticon’s head spinning again.

This time, Blitzwing didn’t wait for any conversation before pulling his little partner into a suffocating kiss, practically drowning him in the dark void of his face. Bumblebee didn’t really protest, instead squishing in deeper.

After a tragically short minute, the two pulled their smushed faces apart. “Still got it.” Bumblebee grinned, nuzzling the dark void.

By now, Optimus had gotten tired of waiting and stepped out onto the ramp to see what was up. They were on a schedule, after all, and he wanted to keep to it! Although, upon seeing the stragglers’ displays of affection, he was overcome with curiosity and…something else. Jealousy, perhaps? Whatever the case, Optimus felt weirdly uncomfortable. He cleared his throat, trying to catch his friend’s attention.

“Whu-? Oh…right… I guess I need to get going…”

“Stay safe…my little bug.” Having returned to his colder facade, Blitzwing pulled the Autobot into one last gentle embrace, before nudging him towards the shuttle.

Bumblebee was reluctant, glancing over his shoulder until he disappeared inside the ship. Optimus was ready to follow, but the clear sadness in the two bots’ optics gave him pause. If word in the mess hall was anything to go by, the two were more than just an act now. Something about them felt familiar to Optimus. After all, he hadn’t wanted to be separated from Megatron for this trip either…

Ratchet grumbled, rolling his optics. “There’s an extra seat on board, just go.”

Blitzwing perked up at hearing this, his face spinning back to black as he zoomed past Optimus and grabbed up his tiny yellow companion, plopping into an empty seat with the little guy comfortably on his lap, much to Ratchet’s chagrin.

More than happy with the outcome, Bumblebee nestled into the large, warm frame and quickly dozed off.

Optimus frowned. “You’re sure you're not coming, Ratchet? We might need a medic.”

The old bot sighed. “Kid, I’ll be level with you. I’m gettin’ too old for all this travel. My joints can’t take many more space bridge jumps. I’m leavin the thirst for adventure to you younguns.”

“Are you certain? I’m sure Sari at least would want to see you.”

“...Tell her I said Hi, ok? Maybe I’ll see her again soon, but right now, I’m more needed here.”

Optimus stayed silent for a minute, hesitating. “If you insist.”

Ratchet smiled. “You kids go have fun, ok? I’ll keep the place running.”

Returning a nod, Optimus returned to his seat, only to immediately go deaf from the racket outside.

“OH GLORIOUS LEADER, I WISH YOU THE SAFEST OF JOURNEYS. MAY YOU CRUSH THE AUTOBOTS AND THEIR PUNY ORGANIC ALLIES UNDER YOUR FISTS OF STEEL!” Lugnut's kowtowing to his boss was making visible and loud dents in the floor.

Gazing, exhausted, into the middle distance for a moment, Megatron collected himself before putting on his typical stoic visage. “Lugnut, my loyal subject.” How I wish he wasn't so loud. “I will ensure our mission is of great success. In my absence, I have left instructions for you and my remaining Generals. You are to fulfill them to perfection, not a bolt out of place.”

“YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND, MY LORD!” The purple mech smashed his face into the ground one more time before getting to his feet.

“Excellent. You will report to Shockwave until I return.” Megatron was already trying to walk away from the stunned Lugnut, wanting to just get on the shuttle.

Lugnut was too stunned to speak. Reporting to Shockwave? This was a travesty. An unspeakable travesty! How could the glorious Lord Megatron choose to trust a dull, two-faced spy over his most loyal servant?! Lugnut's words caught in his throat, fizzling out as he watched the back hatch of the shuttle close and his leader disappear.

Megatron anticipated the journey ahead, hoping to spend it next to his favorite Autobot. Despite this appearing to be the case, seeing one of his Generals being so close with someone sent a small wave of jealousy through him as well. He really wanted to hold Optimus again, and finally kiss him, but neither action would be remotely appropriate. Unfortunately, Prime’s proximity did little to alleviate these feelings, and neither did the Autobot leaning on him a bit into the flight.

Optimus was tired. Meetings were as draining as usual, the stress of this secret trip was gnawing, and the pressure of it all was exhausting in every conceivable way. His processor ran a million miles a minute and his joints hurt, and yet, the warmth radiating from his much larger travel neighbor alleviated all of it, seeping into his frame and whisking away all his discomfort. It was nice. Really nice. What made it even better was the gentle arm that wrapped around him, pulling him closer. Optimus smiled, happily taking hold of the hand. His optics grew heavy and soon closed, drifting into a pleasant sleep despite the inquisitive and judgmental looks from his compatriots.

~~~~~~

Another terrible week had passed, and Sentinel reluctantly trudged back into the book club’s meeting room, if it could even be called that with how run down it was. He was running late again, not that he cared, but something was different this time. A large, white mech sat cramped in the circle. He looked like some type of heavy duty hauling vehicle, and seemed uncomfortable in every possible way.

“Sentinel, glad to have you back this week!” Deadlock smiled, cheerful as ever. “Come, sit down, we have someone new with us tonight!”

The haughty blue bot rolled his optics, but did as he was asked, plopping down on his poor excuse of a chair.

“Well, I’d like to start today with a big thank you to everyone for joining us here. As you all can see, we have someone new with us tonight! Why don’t you go ahead and introduce yourself, if you’d like?”

The white bot smiled shyly, clearly uncomfortable with how much he had to hunch over. “Uh…hello! My name’s Crossguard. Well, officially, at least. I’d…like to be called Skyfire here, if that’s ok.”

“Of course, Skyfire. This is a safe place.”

“Thank you…” He smiled again, a bit more genuinely. “Right now, I’m in oversized load transportation for construction projects, but…I used to be a flight instructor.”

A flight instructor? It, along with the bot’s strange name, got Sentinel’s attention. “You don’t look like much of a flier.” He scoffed, looking the clunky bot up and down.

Skyfire looked down. “I…used to be. Before the War ended. …I was a shuttle.”

Sentinel scoffed again but didn’t say any more. He knew what Skyfire meant. “Ohhh, so you’re one of those ex-’Con’s. Switched sides and got your wings clipped, eh?” Serves you right.

“...Not entirely…”

“Oh, really?” He couldn’t care less what this bot had to say.

“It wasn’t by choice.”

“Oh, reeeeeally?”

Sentinel’s attitude made Skyfire feel ashamed, and he clammed up.

Deadlock shot Sentinel a sharp, disapproving look. A gentle, clawed hand found rest on Skyfire’s arm, the reassurance most welcome. “It’s alright. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“No, I…I need to talk about it… I’ve held onto it for so long.” Skyfire took a deep breath, exhaling with a sigh. “I was a shuttle, and I was a Decepticon. I uhm…I had a friend before the war. Starscream.”

Sentinel sneered at the name, earning himself another look.

“I-I know how he’s acted all these centuries, but he wasn’t always like that. He was prideful, certainly, but he was kind, and funny, and a brilliant scientist. He’d been working on Space Bridge technology, actually… He was technically only an assistant to some upper-caste researcher, but really did all the work… He was nearing a breakthrough with it, but the War started, and the rest is history. The two of us had joined the Decepticons and managed to get off-world, and things were fine for a while, but…uhm…” Skyfire’s frame jerked as he held back tears.

While everyone was occupied with the newcomer, Sentinel just rolled his optics and leaned back. Why should he care about another sob story, and from a former Decepticon, no less?

After a minute, the speaker had collected himself enough to continue. “He- Starscream, he uhm…he’d gone out on a mission, and didn’t come back. We thought he was lost, but-but we heard weeks later he’d been captured by Autobots. We got him back, but…it wasn’t Starscream. The Autobots, they’d taken him an-and used his coding for some program to develop their own fliers, their own Warframes. I don’t know what they did to him, but any semblance of who he was before was gone. He became a jumpy, paranoid, neurotic mess without a hint of the brilliance he once had. I tried to help, I really did, but he fought off my every attempt, until he ran off one day. Apparently, he’d gotten word of his captors’ location and decided impulsively to finish them off. I followed, I tried to reason with him, but he just wouldn’t listen, and I stupidly agreed to help so we could leave sooner, but…”

Skyfire covered his face, needing a moment. “...Starscream got too cocky, and we were caught. He managed to get away and left me behind…not that I can fault him for it… I…expected to be put through the same thing he’d been, but…Primus, I don’t know if my fate was better or worse. I was forced to train the results of my friend’s torment: Jetstorm and Jetfire. I’m sure you’re all familiar by now.” His brow furrowed as he clenched his fists. “...I hated them. I couldn’t stand being around them, knowing how they’d been created. Two innocent civilians, injured in a work accident and modified with my best friend’s coding without anyone’s consent?! How could those scientists live with themselves?! …But…after a while…I dunno… Those two really started to grow on me. As awful as the circumstances were, it was strangely beautiful to watch them learn to fly. They were so awkward and wobbly, like little fledglings eager to leave the nest. They’d laugh, and joke, and always looked on the bright side…just like Starscream had. I don’t know if it was them, or the implanted code, but…it was wonderful… I just wish it could’ve lasted a little longer.”

Sentinel had started paying attention around the time Skyfire mentioned the Twins, but he had his suspicions. “I’ve been around those annoying little fliers for ages, how come I’ve never even heard of you?”

“Why would the Council or science division want to tell anyone about a captured Decepticon they forced into an unethical role in an already unethical experiment? There was no reason to disclose that information.”

Sentinel squinted, but it didn’t deter Skyfire.

“Once the Twins were ‘sufficiently trained’ in flight, they were taken away. …I never saw them again. The Council gave me a choice: deactivation and smelting, or conversion. I chose to join the Autobots, thinking I’d have a chance to get away and get back to my allies, but I was forced to have a frame change. ‘Easier for integration’, they said, but I think it was to make it easier to control me. …The Autobots took everything from me. My best friend, my allies, my wards, my wings and thrusters, my very identity, all gone! I hardly recognize myself anymore… …Please understand, my ire isn’t directed at civilians. I only wish those responsible to…I don’t know…”

The room was quiet as Skyfire finished, with only the occasional skittering cyber-rat and the quiet whistle of a breeze. Nobody was quite sure what to say.

“...I lost a friend once. …It was kind of an opposite situation though.” Sentinel was the last person anyone had expected to hear from, and he shut up as soon as all optics were on him.

“So…you know what it’s like then…” Skyfire sniffled.

“Yeah. …I guess so.” Sentinel crossed his arms and turned away, not wanting to take that conversation any further. Who would care, after all? He sure didn’t! Elita was gone. She’d been replaced with that half-organic thing, and he didn’t want to think about it. It hurt too much.

Nobody else pressed the issue. After a couple more minutes of silence, Deadlock made the first move. “...Thank you for sharing with us, Skyfire. I’m sorry you’ve had to endure this. I hope, in some small way, you can find peace.”

Skyfire nodded, smiling weakly. “Thank you… It does feel good, like a massive weight’s been taken off me.”

“Hehe, it’s like I say, talking does help.” Deadlock returned the smile, adding a pat on the back. “Now then, does anyone else have anything to share?”

Nobody did, so the group moved on to discussing their weekly reading. Sentinel still refused to participate, although he did pull out his copy of the story and pretended to follow along. All he could think of now was Elita, and how badly he’d messed everything up.

The remainder of the meeting went and ended without incident. Everyone filed out like usual and stood outside for a bit, chatting amongst themselves as Sentinel trudged past, still in a bit of a daze. No one paid him much attention, except for Smokescreen.

“Hey, Sentinel!”

He stopped, grumbling. “What?”

“We’re gonna go get drinks! Wanna come?”

“Quit pretending I’m your friend. Why’re you so intent on this scrap?”

“Ok, sure, we’re not friends. But we could be! We wanna hang out with you!” He brushed off the insults, tugging on Sentinel’s arm. “C’mooooon, it’ll be fun!”

Sentinel was so upset by now and confused with himself, he didn’t retain much control of his faculties. The loud slap didn’t register until he saw Smokescreen on the ground, holding his cheek and on the verge of tears.

He didn’t have time to react before Cyclonus was at his throat, glowering down at the now terrified Sentinel, red-hot optics burning like an unquenchable inferno.

“I- …I’m sorry.” Was all he could squeak out before speeding off he knew not where.

~~~~~~

“Optimus…”

The voice he heard was deep and quiet, gentle as a summer breeze. Half asleep, the Autobot smiled and exvented, sinking into the warm mass surrounding him.

“Optimus?”

The voice was a bit more loud and firm, but still gentle to match the nudge he received. Groggy, he sat up and rubbed his optics. The first thing he saw was Megatron looking down at him with a pleasant smile.

“We have reached the Space Bridge. The technicians are awaiting your approval for transport.”

“Oh, right.” Clearing his throat, Optimus opened a private comm channel request to the station, which was quickly answered.

“Yello?”

“This is Optimus Prime, requesting pre-approved use of the Space Bridge.”

“Hehe, yeah, we know. Now get on through there, and tell Lord Megatron hi for us, yeah?”

The Bridge attendants punched a few buttons, igniting the portal within seconds. Optimus sat back down just as the shuttle lurched forward, journeying closer and closer to the bright, swirling mass.

“...The technicians say hi.”

Megatron nodded approvingly. “They seem to be enjoying their posts.”

“Yes, it certainly is convenient you never mentioned you still had loyalists within the Autobot ranks, otherwise this plan may have been more difficult to execute.” Optimus chided, shooting a somewhat disapproving glance up at his companion.

Megatron had taken a sudden interest in a speck of floating dust, doing just about everything he could to pretend he was ignoring Optimus, even taking to humming a little tune.

Optimus crossed his arms and continued his disapproving pouting.

The shuttle’s speed increased and the portal grew brighter, until, with a brilliant flash, it was over. Optimus blinked, letting his optics readjust to the lighting as he looked out the window. Below them was the roof of Sumdac tower, Sari and Bulkhead eagerly awaiting their arrival at the control panel, with Detroit sprawling out as far as the eye could see. Optimus beamed, laughing gleefully.

“We’re finally here… We’re back.”

Chapter Text

“OPTIMUS!” Sari greeted her robotic friend with a strong hug. More of a flying tackle, really, enough to make the bot stumble.

“Whoa there! I’m glad to see you too, Sari, it’s been too long.” He gave her an extremely gentle hug in return. Technoorganic though she was, she was still more fragile than the average Cybertronian.

“Ohmygosh I can’t believe you’re really here! How long’s it been? Wait, no don’t tell me, I already know the answer: too long! There's so much I have to tell you, and so much you have to tell me, I can’t wait! How long are you here for? Are we gonna have time to hang out?!”

“Calm down, Sari, take a few breaths.” Optimus chuckled. “We’ll have plenty of time to catch up, but we have business to take care of first.”

Sari puffed up her cheeks, pouting. “You better promise.”

“I do.”

Sari squealed, hugging him even tighter.

“Hey! Where’s my hug?!” Bumblebee stood with his arms open, tapping his toe indignantly. His turn came almost instantly, arguably more forceful than the one Optimus received. The poor yellow bot spun, nearly falling to the ground, but quickly recovered, jumping around excitedly with his best friend securely in his arms.

“Bumblebee! How’ve you been? Why haven’t you called?! Did you forget about me or something?” Sari chided.

“As if!” Bumblebee replied. “I almost got eaten and blown up several times, then got sent into Decepticon space, and then- Well, that’s…kind of it.”

Sari pouted at him, only to have that interrupted by the looming shadow of Blitzwing.

“...I also might have gotten distracted with my competition with Blitzwing.”

“Oh really? Well then, you’ll have to fill me in over lunch. I’d love to know how that’s more important than your best friend in the whole universe!”

Bumblebee exchanged a quick, panicked glance with his competitor. “...Sure!”

“Great!” Immediately, Sari began dragging the yellow bot off towards the stairs, grinning.

Before being dragged off, however, Bumblebee managed to grab onto a piece of Blitzwing’s kibble, pulling him along without any resistance.

The rest of the group watched the trio leave, stunned and confused. Optimus was the first to speak up. “...Let’s all get settled in for now. We’ll be meeting with the Mayor tomorrow, and we want to be prepared.”

The others nodded in agreement, making their way to the location of the old Autobot base.

~~~~~~

“Tell me everything.” Sari was already several bites into a BurgerBot meal, eagerly staring down her best friend and his much larger, far more intimidating companion. The trio had settled into a spot at the park, a spacious field popular with picnickers.

Bumblebee stared at the sky for a minute, trying to figure out where to start. “Uhhhh…ok, so we were fighting Unicron, right? I was out in space, floating around, and then this guy showed up, and I used him like a skateboard, and-”

“Who’s Unicron?” Sari tilted her head, confused.

“He’s this giant, scary, planet eating bot! Took out half of Cybertron before we got him, but we got him good.”

“So, he’s not a problem anymore?”

“Nnnnnnope!”

The Earthling grinned. “...Cool.”

The next three hours consisted of Bumblebee going on long, tangential ramblings about every minute thing that had happened since they’d all last been on Earth. Sari listened with rapt attention, except for the political parts, occasionally asking questions, while Blitzwing sat menacingly.

“So anyway, after that happened, me and Blitzbrain started a competition to see which one of us was the strongest and the smartest.”

“I won.” Blitzwing chimed in in his calm, even voice.

“What?! No you didn’t, I won! You totally caved first!”

“Hm.”

Bumblebee’s optic twitched and he sprang to his feet. “Listen here, you old rust bucket! You know I won this fair and square, so cut it out!”

Blitzwing remained silent and seated, the corners of his mouth just barely curling in amusement as he watched the little bot blow off some steam.

As Sari watched the pair, realization dawned on her, and she wanted all the juicy details. “So what exactly did this ‘competition’ entail?”

“This lunkhead right here insulted me, and tried to kill me in a training room, so I beat his skidplate and he challenged me cus he was too prideful to admit he lost.”

“Hush, little Autobot. Jou know zhat is not what happened.”

“Oh yeah? I dare you to tell it better!”

“I accept jour challenge.” Clearing his throat, Blitzwing went into a detailed, but not lengthy diatribe about their ‘competition’, making sure to include no mention of the more intimate aspects.

By the end, Bumblebee was fuming.

Sari sipped her drink, eyes darting between the pair. “...So how long have you two been a thing?”

Bumblebee’s faceplate heated up as he tried to count. “Uh…uh..I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sari raised an eyebrow.

“...Ok, fine! It was..uhm… …huh. I don’t think we ever really made anything official, did we?”

“Perhaps zhe day we talked about how zhis was no longer a game?”

“Good enough for me. So like…a couple weeks, I guess.”

Sari frowned. “You know, I can’t say I’m surprised, but I can’t say I saw this coming either.”

The two robots shrugged, almost in unison.

“Uh-huh. Anyway, drink up that oil. I shelled out good money for two barrels of filtered, unleaded stuff at the gas station, so you better not let it go to waste.”

Bumblebee had drunk half his barrel in seconds. “So, you’re like, not mad about this? Or weirded out?”

“Naaaah, this is far from the strangest thing I’ve seen being around you Cybertronians.”

“I feel like I should be insulted, but I think I’m more concerned than anything.”

Sari's grin widened. “Man, I missed you guys.”

~~~~~~

Being back at the old base brought with it mixed feelings. It had been a place of many happy memories, but aspects of the place dragged unpleasant ones to the surface. Walking past Prowl’s old room, Optimus tried to not think about it, or even acknowledge it was there. Depositing his meager belongings on his old recharge slab, he ran his finger across it, noting a thin layer of dust that would need to be cleaned. Checking a desk and a couple shelves, he could say with certainty that the rest of the base was likely just as dusty and in need of a clean. Sighing, Optimus left to find some sort of rag to make his room more habitable.

His footsteps echoed through the halls, mixing here and there with the tweeting of a bird, or the sound of one of the others moving in. The former living area was as it had been left. The old, rickety couch and tire seats were positioned before the TV, ready for use. Behind them was the thankfully broken assembly line from the building’s former days as an assembly plant. It was nice to be back. Comfortable. But, not quite the same.

Finding the storage closet, he got a large, fabric tarp, which had thankfully avoided becoming dusty. Just as he was about to leave, a large shadow blocked out the light, a silver arm reaching over him for another tarp. “You find a room, Megatron?”

“I would call it more of a cell, but I suppose. There is little space for one my size to stand at full height.”

Optimus turned to face him, looking up with a bit of a smirk. “Maybe we should shave a couple inches off. Shorten up those legs of yours.”

“Or perhaps I could raise the ceiling.”

“I’m not helping with that.”

“I did not ask for such assistance.”

“It was a preemptive denial.”

“Hmph.” The Decepticon smiled, retreating down the hall, hitting his head on a few overhanging pipes as he went.

Optimus snickered at the sound and soon returned to his own room, happily dusting every surface. As nice as that little interaction had been, it did get Optimus thinking. The Decepticons we brought will certainly stand out if we’re in public. Speaking of the public, what’ll they think? They’re familiar with the Decepticons as the destructors and terrorizers of the city, not as passive visitors here for a trade mission. …Maybe we’ll just keep them here unless we have to go somewhere? No, that..that would be cruel. A prison cell, like Megatron said. Would the Decepticons even want to hang around Detroit? They never seemed to like the place much, so maybe not. This is going to be harder than I thought. …Wait, didn’t Sari drag Blitzwing out to lunch?

~~~~~~

Blitzwing sat perfectly still, his frame covered in screaming children using him as a jungle gym. Bumblebee, to nobody’s surprise, was also happily clambering around his partner, racing a child to the top in yet another competition. Sari stood to the side taking pictures, next to several horrified parents trying to coax their kids away from the giant, evil war machine.

“I’m the king!!!” Bumblebee proudly announced himself from atop Blitzwing’s shoulders, placing a BurgerBot crown atop his head that definitely didn’t come from a nearby trash can. He was, however, promptly overthrown by a small child, his crown callously stolen as he fell hard on his back.

The child, no more than 5, now stood atop Blitzwing, fists triumphantly in the air. “I am the new leader of the Decepticons!”

“Try me, mini Starscream!” The yellow bot began his climb back up, only to be dragged down by a horde of children commanded by the Decepticon leader. “Blitzwing, do something!”

Blitzwing did not move, or even look towards his partner. “I am afraid I can not disobey my new leader.”

Bumblebee looked at him, shocked and appalled. “What would Megatron think?!”

Blitzwing’s eyes widened for just a moment before returning to normal. He didn't budge.

Pinned down like Gulliver by a horde of screaming children, Bumblebee accepted his fate as Sari stood by, taking dozens of pictures. This isn't how I imagined dying.

~~~~~~

As evening rolled around, Jetfire and Jetstorm found themselves exceptionally bored once again. Their time aboard the Revenge had been fun, albeit far more restrictive than they'd hoped. The two had wanted to be around other fliers in hopes of learning more about their frames and flying, and making some friends, but Jazz had put a quick stop to that. ‘It's dangerous’, ‘All these Decepticons will try to kidnap you for evil experiments’, he said.

The Twins weren't having it today.

Over the past few days before their departure for Earth, the mischievous jets had been purposely irritating and exhausting their handler, all to get him too tired to watch them. And now, Jazz was out like a rock on the ‘couch’. Quietly snickering as they snuck past him, Jetfire and Jetstorm tiptoed cautiously towards the giant doors, freedom shining just beyond them. Taking a careful grip of the door's handle, Jetfire lifted his other hand to his mouth in a ‘shush’ motion to his brother, both barely containing their excitement. Lifting the door just a little, it made a metallic scraping noise, echoing in the large room. Pausing to assess Jazz, the twins determined he was still sound asleep. The door went up bit by bit, the two becoming more eager and careless with it in their excitement. Finally, it was up enough for them to run through and I to the space outside. Freedom was in their grasp! They ran, engines starting, thrusters warming up, and as they neared the edge of the fence, someone cleared his throat behind them disapprovingly.

“You two. Back here, now.” Jazz had been rudely awoken by the moving of the old, rusted door, trudging out after the hazy silhouettes to wrangle them before they could take off. The ninja bot stood just outside the doorway, gesturing the young ones over.

“But…Mr. Jazz…” The twins’ shoulders slumped. They were so close this time, too. Their frames and wings ached to stretch out in the sky, and it was about to be taken away from them again.

“No ‘buts’, except yours back in this building.”

“Please!” Jetstorm took a step forward. “We do not like to stay trapped in small room, we want to fly!”

“No means No. I can't have you getting injured or damaged, the Science Division will have my head if anything happens to you!”

“Mr. Jazz, please…” Jetfire joined his brother. “Is always ‘No’ until someone says ‘Yes’, but ‘Yes’ is always for secret missions. Can we not say ‘Yes’ and flying for fun? We can be careful!”

“You’ve been reckless and careless ever since you were granted leave, and I’m not letting you push any further!”

The twins grew increasingly distraught. “Staying indoors is like prison! We can not go outside, people can not see us, we can not see old teacher, so what can we do?!”

Jazz took a step closer, raising his voice as the stress of the past months bubbled to the surface. “You two are property of the Cybertronian Government! What you say and what you do is up to them, you understand?!”

The twins tensed, looking down at the ground. Jazz had never lashed out in such a manner in all the time they'd known each other.

The moment the words left his mouth, Jazz was overcome with a wave of disgust. This was so unlike him to boil over, and especially to take it out on his subordinates. More importantly, he'd called them property. Two living beings, property. What am I doing? When did I get such a stick up my aft like all those scientists and politicians I answer to?

He sighed, looking apologetically at the dejected bots slowly shuffling towards him. “Just go. Fly to your spark’s content.” He smiled slightly. “Just don't get too banged up, alright?”

Jetfire and Jetstorm immediately perked up, their eyes widening. “You mean it? We can go?!” Jetfire bounced in place.

“Yes, yes, do it before I change my mind.” Jazz grinned audial to audial, shooing his wards off.

Glancing at each other for only a moment, the eager young bots shot into the air in the blink of an eye, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake.

“A-And stay where I can see you!” Jazz called after them like a soccer mom monitoring her kids at a playground.

As the sun set on Detroit, its orange glow bathing the city, the small silhouettes of Jetfire and Jetstorm zipped around the sky above the old base, ducking and weaving, chasing and rolling, their joyous laughter echoing across their surroundings.

~~~~~~

Tossing and turning for hours, rest continued to elude Sentinel. He just couldn't seem to get those obnoxious idiots from the book club out of his mind. The image of Smokescreen holding his freshly slapped face in stunned silence was a particularly fresh memory. Sitting on the edge of his recharge slab, Sentinel grumbled as he inspected his hand. Although a few days had passed, he could still feel the sting of the hit, and the tips of Cyclonus’ claw tips threatening to puncture his neck. He shuddered at the thought, although it did cross his mind that if the Decepticon had attacked him, there would be grounds for rounding up the whole group. Pushing that aside, he tried to lay back down, once again unable to recharge. They're all so odd. Primus, it’s annoying. They act like we're on the same playing field! They've not once brought up my time as Magnus or my demotion in a meeting, they don't mock me, they're not scared of me, I guess, so what are they planning? It has to be something, there's no way it's not a cover! Are they running secret intel? Drugs, weapons, what is it?! Is there some elaborate code in that book I just don't understand?! Resigning himself to a sleepless fate, he picked up a datapad and began aimlessly scrolling through old logs and messages. One in particular stood out, not for its importance, but because of the passing mention of Jetfire and Jetstorm. That one guy said he knew them. He was probably lying though, his kind are all like that. He paused. It irritated him to admit, but that ridiculous therapy book club had become a regular part of his routine. Sentinel eyed the datapad containing the story they were in the middle of reading with ire. Maybe if I read it, it'll bore me to sleep like the meetings.

The story, in fact, had the opposite effect.

This stupid book had everything: action, romance, stakes, drama, and for a while, Sentinel forgot everything else around him. Maybe Optimus was on to something with all the reading he did. That loser bookworm is probably getting crushed into scrap metal right about now. He didn't dwell on it too much. The two weren't close, what did he care what happened to the mousy little Prime? Nerd. He was always better sitting at a desk than he was talking with other bots. He read, diving deeper into the words on the screen, all other thoughts escaping his mind.

Sentinel’s morning work alarm startled him out of his trance. He'd been utterly engrossed in reading, to the point he'd completely lost track of time. Either way, he'd be just as tired that day, but perhaps a little less miserable this time around. Peeking out the window, the blue bot could see traffic on the streets slowly picking up, a horn going off somewhere in the distance. Sentinel’s expression softened into something unrecognizable to him, barely reflecting in the dusty window. He let the small, ragged curtain fall back into place as he went through his list of contacts, hesitating for a few minutes before sending a message to Jazz.

~~~~~~

It was well past midnight, and Optimus was still up combing through old meeting notes. Those had been paused while they were on Earth, under the guise of Megatron falling ill. Optimus hoped it was a convincing enough lie for the Council, but he wasn't certain Ultra Magnus was so easy to fool. Putting meetings on hold yet again irked Optimus, but it had to be done. He rubbed his eyes, the hours growing ever later. As he began to drift to sleep, a video request came through on his datapad, shocking him wide awake at seeing the name of Ultra Magnus. Fumbling the pad in his surprise, Optimus quickly collected himself and answered. “Optimus Prime here, Sir. To what do I owe the pleasure at such a late hour?”

“It has been some time since we've spoken privately, Optimus Prime.” Ultra Magnus was his usual, flat self, although his voice carried a hint of exhaustion. “There have been some new developments on Cybertron I felt the need to bring to your attention.”

“Is it about the Decepticons? Or the fuel shortage?”

Ultra Magnus shook his head. “No. This is about Unicron. More accurately, what's left of him.”

Prime felt a chill run down his spinal supports. “What…about him, Sir?”

“I recently spoke with Perceptor, and a concern of his came up in passing. Given the mass and gravity of both Cybertron and Unicron, what remains of the two will inevitably collide and cause another mass catastrophe. There seems to be no simple way to prevent such a collision."

Optimus froze, at a loss for words. “How long until this happens? Does the public know? Are there plans for another evacuation?!”

The older bot sighed. “The collision itself won't happen for some time. Decades. The early effects, however, will begin any day. Gravitational inconsistencies, debris falling from orbit… It’ll begin slowly, but it's only a matter of time until Cybertron faces yet another disaster.”

“I assume the Science Division is looking into potential solutions?”

Ultra Magnus nodded again. “There have been many ideas proposed, but few are viable.”

Optimus leaned back, as well as he could with all the metal pipes and concrete digging into his plating. This was a dire predicament they were in, and one more he could add to his growing list of stressors. Pushing panic aside, he thumbed at his chin, ideas coming and going. “What about dismantling and repurposing Unicron's body to rebuild Cybertron?”

“That was one of the possible solutions posited by the Science Division, yes. Considering the…mythology surrounding Unicron, we thought it wise to run some tests first to see if the living metal of his body was as malicious as he was. I will inform you if the experiments yield any results."

“Test the energon that powered him too.” He shuddered, remembering what he'd witnessed inside the beast. “If it's viable and harmless, it would help with our reserves.” He blurted out the idea before really considering the implications.

“I will mention it to Perceptor.” Magnus nodded. “I thank you for your time, Optimus. I must stress that you do not mention this to anyone, not even those we are in talks with. Of all the things I don't want to panic the public over, it's this.”

Optimus swallowed the lump in his throat. “Understood, Sir.”

Ultra Magnus nodded politely again. “Send Megatron my regards. I wish him a speedy recovery.”

“Yes Sir.”

With a final nod from his leader, the screen went dark, leaving Optimus to stew over the new developments alone.

Chapter Text

“So…these are the crystals?” Optimus frowned, scratching his helm. He’d left the base early that morning, intending to take a look at the odd mineralizations around Detroit, and he certainly got his fill. The sun hadn’t yet risen, the sky showing the faintest hint of its coming. The things were scattered everywhere; parks, street corners, and even the occasional rooftop weren’t safe from some amount of the faintly glowing rocks. Craning his neck, the Autobot could just barely see the top tip of the one he stood before. It was a particularly large specimen compared to the rest he’d seen, but equally puzzling. “These do resemble energon, although…” He paused.

“What is it, Bossbot?” Bulkhead had tagged along as a consultant of sorts, since he’d been on Earth the longest by now.

“When did these show up?”

“Uuhhh…well, they weren’t here when I came back a week after our big final battle with the Decepticons.” Bulkhead poked at his chin. “It was a few days before I left again. It was like they showed up overnight.”

Strange to be sure, but none of that information brought them any closer to a real answer. Without the proper tools, there wasn't much that could be done. “I’ll see if I can get us some testing equipment.” Or maybe… Without much thought, Optimus licked the crystal. It tasted like nothing.

Bulkhead’s eyes went wide in bewilderment, mouth agape. He’d expect that kind of behavior from Bumblebee, but certainly not Optimus.

Optimus stood awkwardly. “...I’ve…heard that Earth geologists sometimes do that in their field of work to identify minerals.”

That explanation did little to alleviate Bulkhead’s surprise, but there wasn’t much more he could do than to move on. “Do you still think it could be energon?”

“Unrefined, but yes, potentially.”

“Just don’t lick them anymore, alright? I-In case they’re poisonous or somethin’.”

Optimus chuckled. “I’ll be careful. Promise.”

Bulkhead returned the laugh, loosening up as the pair started to walk down the empty street. “So, how’s about that meeting with the Mayor?”

“I’m not really sure what to expect. He’s only the Mayor of one city, after all, I don’t know what kind of authority he’d really have over things like mining permits. That might be more of a Federal responsibility.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a higher level of government in this country. I only read a little about it, so I don’t know much, but I’ll have to look into it a bit more, if we’re serious about this.”

Bulkhead’s massive shoulders slumped. “Dang. Sounds like you’re awfully busy, how do you keep up with all this?”

“I manage.” Prime smiled uneasily. “Lots of notes and lists to keep me on track.”

“Ohhhh.” The green bot nodded in understanding. He suddenly stopped in his tracks, pointing forward and slightly up. “Hey, check that out!”

Looking where his friend was pointing, Prime’s eyes widened. As the morning light hit the nearby crystals, it filtered and refracted through them, creating a glowing blue, almost watery appearance on the ground. The sun rose, each reflection moving uniquely with it, this mimicry of stained glass growing ever brighter, before disappearing as the celestial body grew higher. Something stirred within Optimus, reminding him of a friend long gone who would’ve enjoyed the sight. Soon could be heard the sounds of morning traffic, vehicles and pedestrians hurriedly getting their days started, the two bots joining in the cacophony to head downtown.

~~~~~~

Outside the courthouse stood Megatron, impatiently tapping his pede and doing his best to ignore the gawking onlookers buzzing down below him like flies. He scowled as politely as he could, doing little to deter all the annoying little people craning their necks. How annoying. I ought to kick that news crew’s van.

“Mr. Decepticon, did you come back to Earth to finally destroy us all?”

“Megantron, is it true you had a secret love affair with your subordinate, Starscream?”

“Are you friends with the Autobots now?”

“Are you the one who destroyed the fire hydrant on 6th street?”

Megatron was at least thankful he was out of reach of the microphones these reporters kept fruitlessly trying to shove in his face. As if they could ever hope to reach that high.

“Lord Megatron, what’s your relationship to Optimus Prime?!”

His optic twitched.

These humans were enough to make him start regretting coming back to this wretched planet. How could I have said No? The Autobot was supremely convincing! Was he? Or were you just that caught up in the moment that you caved without a second thought?! He grumbled, praying his companion would get here sooner than later.

His prayers were answered moments later as a blue and red truck rounded a corner, transforming quickly, and shortly followed by the lumbering green one Megatron could barely be bothered to remember. Stepping over the humans, he quickly joined the two new arrivals, nodding in semi-polite greeting.

“Good morning!” Optimus smiled. “I’m surprised you beat us here.”

Megatron grimaced. “I was hoping to beat them as well, but I wasn’t so lucky.” He gestured back towards the crowd of people, camera shutters and flashes boring into his back.

Sensing the Decepticon’s distaste, Optimus glanced around for some kind of exit from the chaos. As if on cue, a young woman with short black hair, wearing business professional attire stepped out of a side gate in the fence around the courthouse, waving the robots over.

“You go on, Bossbot. I’m gonna do some crowd control.” Bulkhead stepped aside and started shooing away the onlookers as nicely and carefully as he could.

Taking the opportunity, Optimus hurried over to the gate, thanking the woman as he stepped through. The poor lady didn’t get so much as a glance from Megatron, although that may have been a good bit of luck, considering his mood at that moment.

Beyond the gate, now out of reach of anyone with a camera, the clamor of the crowd out front began to fade as the two were led through a lovely flower garden, receiving something akin to a small guided tour as they walked.

“Over here you’ll see our daffodils and tulips, right below our Mayor’s prized magnolia tree. This time of year is ideal for their growth, these flowers just love the mild spring weather.”

“There’s so many colors, do they all naturally grow like that?” Optimus pointed towards the tulips.

“They do! There’s several colors and varieties we don’t have at this garden too, but the ones we do grow here are pretty cohesive in their color scheme. The Mayor has an eye for stuff like that.”

Optimus, naturally fascinated by every petal, was a bit disappointed he couldn’t stop to look at everything. Maybe he could come back another time, when they weren’t on a schedule.

Megatron, on the other hand, couldn’t care less about the organic horrors around him. Not even the butterflies were safe from his scornful gaze. And, much to the grey bot’s dismay, the Mayor awaited them at a little tea table in the back of the garden, just as infested with butterflies as the rest.

“We uh…were unable to find any chairs of a suitable size for the two of you. I sincerely apologize.” The young woman rubbed the back of her neck. “And here I thought I was good at my job.”

Doing his best to comfort her, Optimus sat on the ground and gave her a smile. “It’s alright! It’s a pretty big task to find seating for someone our size. Besides, I’ve missed the feeling of grass, we don’t have it where I’m from. I think this is as nice an arrangement as any.”

Such a response seemed to please her, although she received no such platitudes from Megatron. Standing on the grass was bad enough, but letting it touch an even larger area of his body sounded like an utter nightmare, so he opted to stand.

Optimus shot him a look.

Megatron looked back.

The seated mech’s expression intensified.

Megatron didn’t budge.

The Mayor sipped his tea.

“Aren’t you going to sit down?” Optimus raised a brow.

Megatron was thoroughly displeased. “I would prefer to stand.”

“That’s rather rude, Megatron. These kinds of meetings are supposed to be done at an equal level.”

“My struts are far too old to be seated in such a position.”

Optimus crossed his arms, a look of disapproval fixed on his companion.

Megatron crossed his in return.

“You’ll sit down for Ultra Magnus, but not the Mayor of Detroit?”

He didn’t have much of a response to that, but at least the chairs on the Revenge weren’t covered in dirt and grass.

“Sit down.” Prime’s tone was stern and solid. Clearly, he was past the point of entertaining this behavior.

Sensing this, Megatron sat down with a huff, his knees creaking.

The woman, stifling a laugh, approached the Mayor, taking her place at his side. “Allow me to formally introduce myself. My name is Miko Nakadai, personal assistant to the Mayor. I’ll be sitting in on this meeting to assist in proper recordkeeping.”

“It’s our pleasure, Ms. Nakadai. Mr. Mayor.” Optimus nodded to each of them politely, Megatron reluctantly following suit.

“Let’s begin.” She opened up a file folder on the table, a warm breeze rustling the papers inside.

~~~~~~

Lugnut sat at the table in the conference room, bored out of his mind. The rhythmic tapping of his claw on his chin, despite being his own doing, was annoying him. All his work for the day was long since done, and there was little else to do. He just sat staring at Shockwave on the other end of the table, who hadn’t once looked up from his stack of files or otherwise acknowledged Lugnut’s presence in the several hours the two had been sharing the room.

Tap went the next datapad added to the top of Shockwave’s ‘complete’ pile.

Tap went another.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Lugnut’s eye shutter focused on his coworker.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

The purple giant threw his hands up, crying out in bored agony. “HOW COULD LORD MEGATRON ASSIGN YOU AS OUR SUPERIOR IN HIS ABSENCE?!”

“Lower your voice, oaf.” Shockwave still didn’t look up. Tap. “As for your answer, it is because I am reliable.”

Lugnut sprang up, leaning over the table and pointing accusatorially at his compatriot. “WHAT DOES THAT MATTER IN THE FACE OF LOYALTY?!”

“Loyalty and reliability go hand in hand, Lugnut. Hence why I was the optimal choice.”

“YOUR LOYALTY WILL FOREVER BE ECLIPSED BY MINE! LORD MEGATRON HAS NEVER HAD A SERVANT AS DEDICATED AS MYSELF!”

“I think your ‘loyalty’ has been dethroned by the Autobot. The small one we invite to meetings.”

“YOU WATCH YOUR TONGUE! HOW DARE YOU SPEAK IN SUCH A MANNER ABOUT OUR GLORIOUS LEADER?! HIS WISDOM IS BOUNDLESS, HE CERTAINLY SEES THAT I AM HIS MOST LOYAL, MOST TRUSTWORTHY SUBJECT! A PATHETIC AUTOBOT COULD NEVER MEASURE UP TO SOMEONE AS I!”

Shockwave sighed, refusing to entertain this further. He sometimes wished Lugnut had a mute button.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

A knock on the door. Quiet, but audible.

“Enter.” Shockwave's disinterested voice barely echoed in the room.

Tailwind Stepped in timidly, carrying a handful of datapads and doing his best to not drop them as he saluted. “Sirs!”

“Yes, what is it? More reports?” Shockwave turned only his head to greet the newcomer, twisting like an owl and continuing to ignore Lugnut staring daggers into him.

“I-It's an invitation, Sir! Some of the crew are organizing a karaoke night.” He thrust out one of the pads towards Shockwave. Realizing his superior wasn't going to take it, he quickly set it on the edge of the table instead.

Both superior officers’ attention was now on poor Tailwind, their red optics all but burning holes into his plating. Tailwind wished he was anywhere but here, internally lamenting how he always got stuck with the worst errands on the ship.

Shockwave blinked slowly. “...You are dismissed.”

Tailwind skittered out and down the hallway, spark beating in fear.

The remaining two occupants of the room sat looking at the door for a few moments before slowly returning to normal.

Picking up the datapad, Shockwave gave it a quick look before immediately dismissing it. This is far too juvenile for someone like me. It's more in line with something Lugnut would enjoy. …Would this be something Blurr might want me to attend? With this thought, he tossed the glaring mech the invitation, still refusing to lift his head to look in his direction.

~~~~~~

The mess hall was abuzz that evening with countless of the Decepticon crew crowding into the room for the advertised karaoke event. It was every claustrophobe’s worst nightmare. Squeezing his way through the packed crowd was Blurr, his small frame giving him an advantage. Spotting a horned, purple mountain in the furthest corner, he changed course towards it.

“Shockwave! Shockwave!” He jumped up amidst the crowd, trying to get his partner’s attention.

The small blue bot was lost in the sea of metal, however hard Shockwave tried to find him. Spotting a familiar hand waving moments later, he extended one of his perplexingly lengthy arms and fished Blurr out, bringing him over to a seat.

“Thank you, I was starting to think I wouldn't make it through there.” Blurr sighed before quickly shifting to a smile. “So why'd you decide to come? I didn't think this was your kind of thing, so I was surprised when I asked and you said you were already planning to be here.”

Shockwave shrugged. “I felt like exploring outside my comfort zone.” Internally, he was screaming. There were far too many people here for comfort.

“Awww, I'm so proud of you!” Blurr leaned on him, grinning.

Giving him a little pat, Shockwave prayed this would go by fast.

As the lights dimmed, a brightly colored femme climbed onto the table being used as a makeshift stage and picked up a dented microphone. “Gooooood evening, Revenge crew! Who's ready for some karaokeeeeeee?!”

The room erupted in enthusiastic cheers.

“I'd like to formally welcome you all to the very first Revenge Karaoke Night! I'm your gracious host, Killjoy. Don't let my name fool you though, I'd never dare stop a party this GREAT!”

The crowd's cheers grew even louder.

“I AM LOVING THE ENERGY IN HERE TONIGHT!” Killjoy continued hyping up the crowd. “Everyone sounds just as excited as I am for our COMPETITIVE BRACKET SEGMENT!” With a flourish, Killjoy pointed at a projected image behind her. “Every name you see here is someone putting their pride on the line tonight, but only one can win our GRAND PRIZE!” She whipped out a slightly creased piece of paper. “A FIVE CREDIT COUPON TO THE INFAMOUS BRAXOS HOT SPRINGS AND SPA!”

A collective ‘Ooooooo’ came from the crowd, with one singular but loud ‘BOOO’ from somewhere in the back.

“Hey eat scrap, it's the best I could do on short notice!” Killjoy quickly collected herself. “Anyway, LET'S GET THIS SHOW ON THE ROAD!”

The crowd roared, and Shockwave opted to tune out the next couple hours.

Unfortunately, he was dragged back to reality just as the bracket was ending.

Killjoy stood on stage with the victor, doing her best to hype him up. “Let's give it up for our winner, DIVEBOOOOOMMMMB!”

The crowd responded with equal fervor. The loudest of this would be over soon, to Shockwave's relief.

“Thank you everyone for coming tonight! I hope you all had a wonderful time!” Killjoy struck a pose, making a little heart shape with her hands. “We're gonna take things over to our open mic segment now. Everyone is welcome to stay and participate as long as you'd like!”

A round of applause and cheers rebounded, albeit quieter than before. Even the rowdy Decepticons felt the changing mood as the night grew older.

“Waddyou think?” Blurr nudged Shockwave in the arm. “This is kind of fun, right?”

Someone on stage began to sing quietly and off-key, going ignored by Shockwave. “It's…enjoyable, I suppose.” It wasn't.

Blurr's smile fell. “We can leave if you want. That was pretty long.”

“But would you like to stay?”

“Eh…I could go either way. What else is there to do?”

Shockwave tapped his chin. I can't have him sit and watch me file reports. Not that there's any reports left for today. A walk? Tormenting the medical team? Primus, I am boring.

As he was about to respond, the singer finished and the crowd stirred as a lumbering mass stepped out from it. A quiet murmur swept across those present, eyes widening in shock and horror as the giant figure of Lugnut stepped up, the microphone utterly miniscule in his claws. He turned around to pick a song on the machine, his large fingers unable to tap anything. Luckily, Killjoy was still there to help, and the room soon filled with the calm instrumental notes of an old love ballad.

Oh. This is going to be a nightmare. The room braced for the worst as Lugnut opened his mouth.

To everyone's shock, their superior began to sing in the most buttery-smooth voice imaginable, a far cry from his usual scratchy, aggressive tone. Shockwave slumped and leaned in utter disbelief, his squinting optic narrowing to a near pinpoint. Lugnut’s tune washed over the room like a gentle wave, touching their sparks to the very core. Some were even brought to tears.

If Shockwave had a jaw, it would have been on the floor. This lumbering, single minded oaf has a talent?! He can do more than just praise Lord Megatron and break everything around him??! He's been with the Decepticons from the start, how has this never come up? I've done thorough checks on every member of our faction, how has this eluded me?!

Lugnut’s melodic crooning ended minutes later. The room fell quiet, only the occasional stifled sob breaking through. He faced the silent crowd, the tiny microphone clasped between his fingers. “I AM FINISHED NOW. GOOD NIGHT.” The mic hit the floor with a Thud and a shrill, unpleasant feedback. The head of every bot in the mess hall followed Lugnut out the door, like a pack of highly coordinated meerkats. Complete and utter silence fell upon the room, with nobody quite sure what to do. It was broken by a loud and enthusiastic ‘WOOOOOOOOO!’ from Strika, rendering everyone deaf in an instant.

~~~~~~

Ultra Magnus sat at his desk, reports piled up around him. Peace talks with the Decepticons may have come to a standstill and the population may have been remarkably cooperative since the factions began to intermingle, but that only seemed to cause him alone more problems. Stacks of building permits, housing expansion requests, and hundreds of smaller petitions decorated his office floor in tidy stacks. He'd get to all of them eventually, but there was only so much time in the day. Finishing up the current permit request, he set it aside and reached for the next. Just then, there was a knock on the door.

Upon being given permission, an Autotrooper stepped in and saluted. “Ultra Magnus, Sir!”

“Report, soldier.”

“The Surveillance Division requested that I bring you a message.” He pulled out a datapad, handing it to his leader. “There's been strange activity noted in a deserted sector out towards what remains of Kaon, Sir. An unidentified figure has been spotted, but continues to elude us. We’ve been unable to track them.”

Ultra Magnus scrolled through the report as his subordinate spoke, a seed of worry planted in his spark. There was nothing of particular note in the report, plenty such had been made by ‘concerned citizens’ in the past weeks, but something about this one just didn't sit right with the old bot.

“Sir?”

Ultra Magnus glanced up. “Hm? Ah, my apologies, I lost myself in the report.”

“No need for apologies, Sir!”

“Was there anything else you needed to discuss?”

“No Sir, that was all. We’ll update you on any new developments.”

“You are dismissed.”

Left alone, Ultra Magnus found himself looking through the report again, combing it for any small grain of information. Did he want his worries validated, or alleviated? Was there really anything to it, or was the stress of everything else finally getting to him?

He sighed and set down the datapad, leaning back in his seat. This matter would, unfortunately, have to wait until a later time.

Chapter Text

Sentinel was having second thoughts about leaving his apartment as he trudged through the dark streets. You're gonna get jumped if you go back there. Those guys are huge, strong, and won't care if they beat the tar out of you. You did kind of hit Smokescreen, but he had it coming! He paused his train of thought, wondering for only a moment if he should apologize, but quickly swept it aside. He doubted it would be enough to compromise his mission further.

Rounding a corner, Sentinel jumped as a cyber rat skittered out of a pile of trash. He shuddered, thinking to himself that he'd never get used to this type of environment. Grumbling, he continued down the trash-laden street until finally arriving at his destination. He hesitated again before going in, the floor to the book club meeting spot as creaky as ever. Opening the door, all eyes were on him. There was certainly a tangible animosity in the room, following the blue mech to his seat. Sentinel scowled, crossing his arms.

Deadlock stood up, his usual pleasant smile plastered on. “Welcome back, everyone! It's wonderful to see you all back here on this lovely night.”

‘Lovely’ my aft. Sentinel rolled his optics.

“We’ll start off as usual, if anybody has anything to share.”

Ignored. I don't care.

A few minutes later, the Feelings segment was over, not that it made Sentinel any less annoyed.

“Now then, if you'd all pull out your books, we'll be discussing Chapter 40 tonight.” An eager grin manifested on Deadlock’ face, rapidly infecting some of the younger bots. “I hope you're all just as excited for this as I am, chapter 40 was particularly riveting!”

Sentinel’s finials perked up against his will. That previous week, he’d read the book in full and begrudgingly enjoyed every minute of it. Nope. Not saying anything.

“I’d like to start!” Ironhide’s hand shot up, and he began to dissect the story, once given permission. “By now, we’re past the main climax. Thunderhowl’s rescued his lady, but now, they’re being chased across the universe by Silverbolt’s captors. There’s an awful lot happenin’ here, but I’d like to narrow in on one particular passage.”

Since when has Ironhide been so well-spoken and scholarly?

Ironhide cleared his throat and continued, “This line here, ‘The suns rose again, burning away their masks of fear, revealing what was hidden underneath. And as they embraced, the lovers held infinity in the palms of their hands, and eternity in their sparks.’ Now, I wanted to pick apart the symbolism here,”

This is bizarre.

“It seems awfully clear what the author means here. The ‘masks of fear’ is their fear obviously, it disappears as the sun rises, beautiful imagery. The two are terrified of being caught, but being with each other on the other side of the universe, seeing this sunrise together, it just…” Ironhide nodded, getting emotional, “It’s such a-”

“Such a load of scrap, is what it is!”

Everyone paused and turned towards Sentinel, who sat just as stiffly as always. “Did you even read the book?!”

“Uhm…yeah?”

“Well, if you recall chapters 12, 14, 15, 23-26, and 38, you’ll notice this ‘fear’ is of themselves. Thunderhowl and Silverbolt have, time and time again, had doubts about whether the other truly loves them, and whether they’re each deserving of that love. Those ‘masks’ that disappear are their own doubt about themselves and their love, and their place in each others’ lives.” Sentinel was gesturing wildly now. “Did you seriously even read the book?!”

All was still before Smokescreen broke the silence, grinning like an idiot. “I like your interpretation! I think in terms of depth, it makes the most sense, not that things can’t have multiple interpretations, but y’know. Nothing against yours, Ironhide, they’re both great!”

Ironhide nodded approvingly. “It’s a good one, Sentinel.”

“Thanks.” It felt uncomfortable to hear anyone say his name. Sentinel couldn’t shake the feeling that it was bound to be followed up by mockery, not that he didn’t also feel he deserved it, just a little.

Cyclonus’ engine made a low rumble as he leaned forward, optics scanning the words on his own datapad. “What is your analysis of the remainder of the passage?”

“Well that’s easy. ‘Infinity’ is each other, and ‘eternity’ is their love.”

“A shallow view.” Cyclonus shot Sentinel a look. It wasn’t malicious, just…indeterminate.

“Oh, well waddyou think it means, then?!”

Looking back down at his book, Cyclonus took his time getting to the point. “The entire passage itself is a reference to an ancient Cybertonian fable, one steeped in science and mysticism. It was believed that two souls, two sparks, would seek each other out in every lifetime. The spiritually inclined believed it to be a divine gift, whereas the scientifically-minded leaned more towards the theory of quantum entanglement, that two beings are bound together on a sub-atomic level across space and time.”

Sentinel squinted and grimaced in disbelief. I’m in a room full of lunatics.

“Huh…” Skyfire was the first to speak up. “I remember writing a paper on that once. O-on quantum entanglement. …I got laughed out of the conference room.”

Bluestreak was nearly in tears. “It’s so beautifuuullll! You love someone so much that Primus and physics pushes you together forever?!” He quickly turned into a sobbing mess, receiving some comforting pats on the back from Smokescreen.

As the banter circled the room, Sentinel felt his joints begin to loosen. He sat up straighter, leaning forward, getting deep into the conversation, and smiling.

~~~~~~

It was a lovely spring day in Detroit. The sun was shining, the breeze was blowing, birds chirped, and Megatron was having absolutely none of it. He scowled, practically tiptoeing around gawking pedestrians, as he tried his best to keep up with Optimus. Tiny people looked up at him like pigeons, taking pictures and pointing, and being overall irritating.

“Is that a Decepticon?”

“Is that the one that destroyed the city?”

“Isn’t that like, the main one?”

“Can I have your autograph?!”

Megatron wished he was anywhere but here. Mercifully, he finally caught up to Optimus on a street corner only to be beset by a news crew. Optimus was flustered, trying to avoid their questions and demands. “I-I’m sorry, I really need to get going. Maybe we can go more in depth another time? We-whoa!”

Optimus was unceremoniously yanked away by the scruff and dragged away by a very tired Megatron. The little red bot sighed as he regained his footing. “Thanks for that, I was sure I’d be trapped for hours.”

“Mhm.”

He seems annoyed. I can’t say I don’t understand why. “Hey, I’m sorry our meeting with the Mayor didn’t work out. I know it’s been a couple days, but…I mean, he did have a point. He really can’t do anything about the mining, but maybe those wind farms aren’t a bad idea, and he did seem pretty eager to get rid of those crystals.”

“If we could only figure out what the crystals are.”

“Professor Sumdac did say he was working on some tech to help us analyze them, he said we might have an answer within the week.”

The scientist’s name left a sour taste. “That would be nice.”

The pair remained silent as they walked. Megatron wasn't in the mood for much of anything, and Optimus could tell. Just as the Autobot opened his mouth to suggest heading back to their base-

A loud explosion rocked the street. Several blocks behind them, a cloud of dust and debris blasted out between the buildings as a loud alarm blared.

Without so much as a thought, Optimus turned on his heel and sprinted off towards the commotion, his voice carrying back to Megatron’s audials. “Head back to the base, I’ll take care of this!”

“Wait-!” Megatron began to protest, but Optimus was already long gone. Grumbling, Megatron reluctantly ran after him. Rounding the street corner, Megatron froze, completely baffled as to what he was witnessing: Optimus was fighting for his life against a little girl on a hooved, flying creature known as a ‘horse’, and he was losing.

“Oh no, Powdered Sugar! It looks like there’s another one of those mean, violent robots here!” She laughed, twirling a magic wand in Megatron’s direction, and releasing a sparkly, pink laser blast from its tip.

Megatron barely had time to react with how occupied he was with making sense of the scene, but he managed to jump out of the way in the nick of time. Stumbling only a little as he landed, he was finally able to properly assess the scene: Optimus was digging himself out of a pile of rubble, a toy store, of all places, was demolished, and the pink girl was readying another laser-

It hit Megatron squarely in the face, sending him stumbling back. I just got my optic fixed! It’s only been a few months! He managed to dodge a second attack, getting closer to Optimus. In only a few more steps, he was helping the Autobot to his feet.

“Are you alright, Prime?”

“Yeah,” Optimus panted, “yeah, I’m good. You?”

“Terrible. Would you care to explain why a small human on a flying creature shot me in the face?!” It was really starting to hurt.

“Tha-”

“I am Professor Princess! I have returned from prison to save the world from evil, violent toys!” The sparkly villain threw a handful of flower shaped explosives at the two Cybertronians, separating them onto opposite sides of the street.

Megatron’s eyes, once again, narrowed in disbelief.

Optimus, having already done this routine several times, transformed and charged after the girl as she took off further down the road, with Megatron running close behind. Their assailant laughed maniacally, spreading destruction in her wake.

Megatron pinged his partner’s comm, grumbling. “Is this what you dealt with in between our battles?”

“Yyyep.”

“Is it always such a challenge for you?” Megatron smirked.

“No, I usually had my team with me.”

“Aw, come now, am I not a sufficient placeholder?”

“We’ll find out here soon!” Prime’s message ended as a teddy bear exploded, sending him spinning off the road. Upon hitting a lamppost, he transformed and got back to his feet. As he ran after the pink menace, Optimus deployed a grappling hook and managed to get a good grip on one of the horse’s legs, dragging it down to the street with force.

Megatron caught up seconds later, flying past Optimus so fast that he barely had a moment to register that his sizable companion was going for Professor Princess. Reaching out his hand, Megatron practically had her in his grasp. Regrettably, he had miscalculated, and Professor Princess shot yet another laser in his face, sending the Decepticon stumbling backwards. Sidestepping him, Optimus shot another grappling hook at his target, completely missing as she took off yet again, taunting the duo from above. “Professor Princess will never be shackled!”

By now, Megatron was fed up. Two blasts to the face and endless humiliation had his fuel lines boiling. “I tire of this.” Scowling, he launched himself upwards after the now panicking Princess, leaving Optimus to do his best chasing them down from below.

Professor Princess wasn’t hard to follow on account of the multicolored, glittery trail the horse was leaving behind. Pushed on by irritation, Megatron made quick work of catching up, overtaking the steed. Avoiding his grasp once again, Professor Princess made a sharp turn right, accentuating her escape by throwing more explosives. She flew up and down, side to side, trying everything to shake Megatron, but he simply wouldn’t let up. All it did was annoy him more. Megatron pushed his thrusters and reached for the girl, only to have her disappear in the blink of an eye, diving back down towards the street. Megatron dove down after her, barely able to squeeze between the buildings. Pedestrians cowered in fear at the sight of the giant bot and the glittery menace. As Professor Princess threw another handful of cat-shaped bombs, a gust of wind picked up, blowing them towards a group of people below. Without a second thought, Megatron swerved to block them, the cats exploding into his arm, before continuing the chase.

As Professor Princess approached a shorter three story building, Optimus, having taken an alternate route, leapt off its roof, successfully wrapping his grappling hook around Professor Princess and Powdered Sugar. The three dropped to the ground, considerably damaging the road and loosening her restraints. As Professor Princess wriggled free, she realized to her horror that there was no escape this time. Powdered Sugar lay crushed and in pieces, her internal electronics sparking as a distorted, pained whinny escaped her shattered voicebox.

“P-Powdered Sugar! Nooooooo- Hey!” In the midst of her crying, Professor Princess was plucked up by the back of her shirt and raised to Megatron’s eye level. “Put me down, you brute! Let me go!”

Megatron growled in annoyance, doing little to quiet her. With his free hand, he offered Optimus a boost up, ignoring the child’s angry threats as best as he could.

Optimus rubbed his head, noting an indent. “Thanks. I’m glad you were here or I might not have caught her.”

“I must admit, this was a rather…irritating foe.” He shot the girl another glare.

“Let’s get her to the proper authorities. I’m sure they’re eager to get her locked back up.” Optimus began walking towards a squad of gathered police cars, waving for Megatron to follow.

“Officers.” Optimus saluted as he approached, being met with a mix of greetings, uneasy looks, and a disgruntled sigh from Captain Fanzone.

“Thanks for catching the girl.” Fanzone stepped forward. “We’ll take it from here.”

Megatron lowered the captured criminal enough for one of the officers to handcuff her before lightly tossed the girl into the back seat of the nearest police car, happy to be done with that mess.

Optimus and the Captain watched the brief exchange wordlessly, before resuming their conversation.

“Uhm…we’ll be back tomorrow to help with the cleanup.” Optimus smiled uneasily.

Captain Fanzone crossed his arms disapprovingly. “You and the big one. Heck, bring all of them, you lot are as good at fixing as you are at breaking.”

“Will do, Sir.” Optimus got back to his feet. “We look forward to seeing you again.”

The Captain grumbled, waving off the two robots. “Just get outta here.”

Doing as instructed, the pair headed off down the street.

A few blocks down, Optimus lightly elbowed his companion. “Thanks again. She probably would’ve gotten away if it weren’t for you.”

Megatron couldn’t help smiling, just a little. “But of course. I am the best help you could receive.”

Optimus chuckled. “We do make a pretty good team.”

Neither could deny it. Whether fighting each other or alongside each other, the two moved in smooth synchronicity. It was satisfying.

“You protected those civilians.”

Megatron looked down at his partner, then back ahead, his cheeks warming. “I suppose I did.”

As the two alien visitors completed the remainder of their trip back to base in silence, only occasionally drifting closer towards each other.

~~~~~~

“Hey! You!” Sentinel jogged down the street, that night’s book club having ended. “You! Tall white one!”

Skyfire turned around, immediately spotting his pursuer on the empty and otherwise silent street. “Yes? How can I help you, Sentinel? Oh, did you want to discuss the book more?”

“No, you lumbering idiot.”

Skyfire looked genuinely hurt by the insult.

“...sorry.” The apology came with much pouting about having to make it.

“Ah, i-it’s ok. What did you want to talk to me about?”

Sentinel crossed his arms, almost shrinking in on himself. He was having second thoughts about this, but he’d come this far, and he wasn’t a quitter. This is an awful idea, these guys still don’t like you! Just because the discussions tonight were good and flowed nicely doesn’t mean everything’s hunky-dory! Aaaagghh but you already went to the trouble of calling that…that one ninja you had command over, what was his name? Jax? …Close enough, I guess. Awwgghhhh, this is a bad idea. But what if it’s not? Maybe it’ll be good in the long run, like-like maybe it’ll help me with the mission- …I haven’t really thought about the mission Ultra Magnus gave me in a while. No. No, that still matters and this is gonna help you get closer to these lowly buffoons and blow their case wide open.

“Sentinel?”

He was pulled out of his own thoughts by Skyfire worriedly hunched over and waving a hand in front of his face. “What?”

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah yeah I’m fine, just back up, will you? You're in my personal space.”

Skyfire did so. “You looked like you were spacing out, I got worried.”

“Ok, well don’t. I don’t need you being ‘worried’ about me, got it?”

“I- …Ok. I’m sorry.” Skyfire fidgeted with his fingers.

Sentinel’s eye twitched. He hated all the fake ‘caring’ everyone did.

“A-Anyway, how can I help you?”

Grumbling, Sentinel rummaged through his subspace and whipped out a rather worn datapad, practically shoving it into Skyfire’s hands. “Don’t thank me, I’m not doing this for you. Got it?” He kept his head down, his spark’s churning creating a strange and unfamiliar feeling.

He was hesitant to take the datapad, but Skyfire was too polite to keep the blue bot waiting. Carefully, he plucked it from Sentinel’s hand. Once the item was taken, Sentinel immediately set off in the other direction, wanting to get some distance between himself and his target.

“Uhm…thank you!” Skyfire called after the bot, only getting a halfhearted handwave in return. I might as well take a quick look at this before I go, he seemed eager to give it to me. He powered on the pad, eyes widening. Swiping through the images on screen, the smiling faces of Jetfire and Jetstorm greeted him from every picture. The twins were flying, causing mischief, socializing on the Revenge, posing for the camera with their new friends, pretending to be birds in a tree, harassing Jazz, and thoroughly enjoying themselves.

Skyfire’s lip quivered, his optics stinging. The datapad shook in his hands as a pre-recorded video began to play, the grainy voices of his former students coming from the busted speaker.

Jetfire and Jetstorm were giggling and shoving each other around. “Mister Jazz, hold camera steady!”

“It would be steady if you’d stop trying to grab it!” The voice behind the camera grumbled under his breath, “I can’t believe I agreed to this.”

“Ok, ok, fine, fine. We will not touch.”

“I’m gonna start recording, ok? …Aw man, it’s already on.”

The twins couldn’t wait a moment longer, with Jetfire jumping straight in. “Flight Instructor Skyfire! Hello! Is us, Jetfire and Jetstorm, you remember us, yes???”

Skyfire nodded, a quiet ‘Yes’ squeaking past his lips as if his students could hear him.

Jetstorm quickly pushed past his brother, the two’s excitement fighting for dominance of the screen. “Teacher! Teacher, guess what?! We can fly with no crashing now! That is great, yes?!”

“Oh! And we can do flip, and corkscrew, and nosedive safely!”

“‘Safety’ is a very subjective term for you two.” The cameraman sounded less than enthused with that statement.

“And we combine too! We become stronger together, and can fight even bigger villains!”

“Let us show you!”

“Wha- HEY! You can’t do that in public without prior approval!” Jazz sounded panicked and in desperate need of a nice, long vacation.

Ignoring the demands of their handler, the twins quickly combined and flew around, showing off their abilities for their former teacher. Moments later, they landed very close to the camera and waved, grinning. “We are Safeguard! Thank you, Teacher! We are hoping to see you soon!” The recording ended there, the datapad’s screen now peppered in Skyfire’s fallen tears.

Storing the precious datapad away, Skyfire wiped his optics and took off in the direction Sentinel had gone.

The street was straight and narrow, most of its alleys blocked by trash and rubble. Not that the main road fared much better, to Sentinel’s dismay. Even if he were in vehicle mode, it would’ve been a squeeze to get out of the area. He grumbled as his foot slipped on some loose rocks, nearly sending him to the ground. Primus, I hate it here. This place is such a dump, why couldn’t these guys pick a better place for their club?! Where’s the street with all the bars, I thought it was closer than this! Scrap, did I go the wrong way?! How could I get so distracted??! His complaints were interrupted by a rhythmic thudding loudly approaching from behind. Oh come on, am I really about to get mugged?! Just as Sentinel turned to see what it was, he was wrapped in a crushing, suffocating embrace by Skyfire.

Sweet Primus, everything hurts! Is he trying to kill me? How did that make him mad?!

“Thank you…” Skyfire’s voice caught in his throat. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

Sentinel coughed painfully. “That’s great, but you’re crushing me!”

“Oh, s-sorry.” Skyfire released him, giving his accidental victim a light pat on the back.

“Primus, you’re strong.” Sentinel tried catching his breath, aware of every new dent on his body.

Skyfire let him readjust before speaking again. “Th-Thank you, Sentinel… From the bottom of my spark, thank you. H-How did you get these? I thought you didn’t work with them anymore!”

Sentinel scowled and looked away, uncomfortable being thanked. “I have my ways.” He could hear Skyfire sniffling and he really didn’t want to look, but curiosity got the better of him. To his surprise, the former flier was smiling, barely keeping it together.

“This is the most wonderful gift I've ever been given.” -Hic- “I can’t thank you enough.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Sentinel had to look away again. Being thanked felt strange enough, but what felt even more weird was his inability to understand ‘why’. Why had he gone to the humiliating trouble of contacting Jazz to get these pictures for someone who was basically a stranger? Still, as odd as it was, it felt good, in an unexplainable way. “I’m going home.” He started to walk away again, having a childish hope that he could somehow outrun these feelings.

“Wait, Sentinel!”

“What?”

“W-We’re all going for drinks at MacCadam’s. You wanna join us?”

Sentinel hesitated, turning just enough to see Skyfire from the corner of his optic. “You buying?”

The white bot grinned, his tears all but gone. “Yeah! This is a night for celebration, after all!”