On the Fields of Freedoms Edge - Chapter 5
Title: On the Fields of Freedoms Edge
Rating: R
Pairing: Megatron/Optimus Prime
Warning: Mentions of non-con, mpreg (highlight for warnings, spoilers)
Summary: TF Prime. Optimus goes to extreme measures to stop Megatron once and for all
Optimus arrived via space bridge a short time later. Megatron had finished his mournful indulgence and was once again in control of his emotions.
He wasn’t surprised to find Ratchet with the other mech, trailing slightly behind, blades out and at the ready. Megatron didn’t see the need, he was unarmed and at the mercy of the slave coding, he couldn’t kill them even if he wanted to.
He held Orion close. The sight of Prime made his energon boil. He truly hated the mech for what had been done to him. Every moment of frustration and helplessness and terror at not knowing a mechling was growing within came back to him.
This was the mech he was going to entrust Orion to? One who would violate another mech to suit his own ends?
Clearly they were thinking similarly distressing thoughts about him.
The two bots stared at him and the mechling in horror.
Megatron could only imagine what a sight they made. Their worst foe, Decepticon Warlord and the subject of many an Autobots nightmare with a mechling cradled in his servos. If the situation hadn’t been quite so serious he might have found it amusing.
As it was Megatron was somewhat less than amused. His spark throbbed painfully in his chest and the urge to run was becoming an all consuming need.
He ruthlessly quashed the weak urges. He would do as he had always done, face down that which would make him weak and overcome it.
“By the all-spark, it’s true,” Ratchet said.
“It does seem to defy all logic, doesn’t it,” Megatron quipped drily.
“How?”
“You could explain better than I, medic. I was only aware of the mechlings existence on the day of its birth.”
Both ‘bots cringed slightly, whether from guilt or disgust or the sheer unnaturalness of it all he couldn’t tell. Megatron took a great deal of pleasure in their discomfort. Let them experience some of the horror and disgust he had felt.
It was Optimus who broke the silence. “May I touch him,” he asked quietly.
Megatron gave a short nod.
Optimus nervously moved forward until he was within striking distance. He paused as though unsure if Megatron was going to make a move against him. Megatron kept a neutral look on his face and Optimus closed the distance between them, reaching out a servo and gently placing it on Orions helm.
Megatron quashed the urge to strike at Prime, knowing the slave coding would only punish him for his efforts. Optimus had no right to touch Orion.
The mechling didn’t seem to mind however and eagerly clicked and chirped at Optimus, raising his servos to grab at the new mech. The enjoyment on Orions face was clear. White optics darted between his Creator, Prime and Ratchet, as though confirming in his own processor that the two strange mechs weren’t his creator in disguise.
“I had believed I had seen the last mechling on Cybertron. I could never have imagined, here on earth, and with you.” Optimus stepped away. “Megatron, I must apologize. It seemed the only option at the time but it was wrong. And for me to leave you alone all this time after I had -- I was a coward. You must understand I had never imagined this as a possibility. I swear upon my very life, Megatron, I never intended this.”
Megatron was silent. What could he say? Optimus was right. It was wrong and he was a coward. At any other time he would have gloated, held this over Primes head as an example of everything he had ever said about Autobots confirmed as truth. He couldn’t muster up the will to gloat. He was too tired and weary.
“I am sorry. Truly. As happy as I am to see a mechling again I wish it hadn’t come through these circumstances.”
Megatron held Orion closer. “As do I.”
They stared at each other, Megatron glaring, Optimus apologetic.
Ratchet choose this time to make himself known. “Megatron. I would like to perform some tests, if you don’t mind. Physical reproduction is something we had never considered before. Until I saw this I wouldn’t have believed it myself. This could be a turning point for us.”
Megatron eyed the medic up and down before nodding. “You may perform your tests.”
The medic was ecstatic and immediately began rambling on in medical jargon. Megatron was never very skilled in medical terms and procedures. While Knockout learned long ago not to bore his Master with such things Ratchet had clearly never learned the subtle art of laymans terms and kept on talking to Megatron in what might as well be a foreign language all the while running a scanner over his frame.
Orion seemed absolutely enchanted, staring wide optic’d at the scanner as though it were a gift from Primus himself.
Optimus looked on pensively.
“May I hold him,” Optimus asked. Megatron froze, immediately rejecting the idea. He took a step back. Ratchet dropped into a battle ready stance at the sudden movement. Optimus simply stared at Megatron with an expression that could only be pity. Megatron didn’t want his pity. “You care about him.”
“The mechling is my Creation.”
Optimus nodded his understanding. “I was under the impression that the mechlings life was in danger. I was mistaken.” He seemed uncertain as to how to continue. “The mechling is obviously loved and well taken care of. It …. would be a shame to separate one so young from his Creator.”
“I didn’t call you here on a whim, Prime,” he responded harshly. “I would prefer death to seeing my Creation in the care of an Autobot but I have little choice in the matter. Would you see the last remaining mechling live in exile with a fallen Warlord? What does this island have to offer a mechling? How can a mech such as I, who knows nothing but war and battle, care for one so young? He would be best surrounded by ‘bots like your Bumblebee and Arcee, even that Bulkhead seems the sort who would be better suited to Caretaking. “
Optimus looked pained. Behind him Ratchet was looking at Megatron with an expression of disbelief and something else that Megatron couldn’t identify.
“Take him, Prime.”
“Megatron-“
He shoved the mechling at Prime, earning a startled cry from Orion as Prime fumbled and held the mechling tight.
Before he could change his mind Megatron turned on his heel and walked away, ignoring Optimus’s calls and Orions sudden confused cries. Primus, how he wanted to run back and reclaim the mechling for his own but he didn’t. It was better this way.
“Megatron! I don’t even know his designation!”
“I call him Orion Pax,” Megatron called back, not halting his stride.
He kept walking, away from Prime, away from the cries of Orion.
***
Life on The Pit returned to a somewhat normal pace. He drank energon, he roamed, he stared out at the ocean and occasionally went down to the beach.
Everything was as it had been.
He hated it.
That first night after Prime and Ratchet had left with Orion Megatron had systematically destroyed the entire forest. He had made the mistake of going back to the small shelter he had made before Orions birth. It was just as he had left it and that infuriated him. He wanted everything to reflect how much had changed. It seemed wrong for the sun to shine and the forest to be so green and peaceful when he felt nothing but darkness swallowing him up from the inside.
He destroyed the shelter in a fit of rage and didn’t stop until the entire forest was gone.
There were no witnesses to his cries of rage. Not a living soul saw the half crazed mech tearing trees up by their roots, or sinking his claws into the ground and throwing massive rocks into the ocean while issuing challenging battle cries to the silent forest.
When there was nothing left to destroy his rage turned inward and he began clawing at his helm, gouging lines across his armoured hide that welled up with energon, over and over until he was too exhausted to continue.
He knelt in the ruins of the forest and he felt nothing.
***
Optimus truly believed himself to be a mech that, despite his flaws, tried his utmost to be a symbol of all he wished his Autobots, and indeed all Cybertronians to emulate.
It wasn’t vanity, though he knew of a ‘bot or two who would disagree, rather it was that he believed with a position of leadership came the responsibility to be a role model. How could he expect those under his command to do any less than he would himself?
Ever since he had become Prime he had lived by that standard. He would never expect the ‘bots who followed him to do anything he wasn’t willing to do, likewise he wouldn’t expect them to display behaviors Optimus himself wouldn’t uphold himself. He didn’t take his role as Prime lightly. He believed in what he fought for, he believed in his morals and ideals and he expected those under his command to follow the ideals that he tried to exemplify.
That way of life had served him for orns.
Until now.
Here he was, holding the mechling he had sired upon an unwilling mech.
For the first time in a long time Optimus felt like the worst kind of fraud.
Not since his early days, fresh from the Archives and new to the role of Prime, had he felt as though everything he was and everything he was trying to do was a sham.
He was everything Megatron had accused him of and worse.
“Optimus,” said Ratchet carefully, “maybe you should sit down. It will be a while before the others get back, we should figure out what to do. How to explain this.”
Optimus stared down at the recharging mechling. The poor thing had cried itself into recharge when Megatron had left and was even now restless and nervous. Its little pedes twitched, tapping slightly on the examination table.
“I won’t explain to them, Ratchet. I will tell them the truth. The mistakes I have made are unforgivable and I will be judged accordingly.”
Ratchet seemed to hesitate over what he was going to say. If the troubled expression on his faceplates was any indication Prime wasn’t going to like what his old friend was going to say.
“Optimus. You are one of the best mechs I know. I have followed you into the Pit and back and would do it again. You know that, I know that, everybody knows that.”
“Ratchet, I don’t need reassurance,” Prime chided softly.
“Just listen to me you big idiot. I’m not trying to reassure you, I’m trying to make a point. I follow you but you listen to my advice. No leader works in a void and very few leaders take action without consultation. I am as much a part of this as you are.”
“And yet I am your Commander. Therefore the responsibility will be mine. I won’t have you taking the blame for actions that were my own, nor will I have you taking responsibility for a plan that I conceived.”
“Prime! Will you stop talking and listen to me. Please,” he added as an afterthought. “I’m not trying to reassure you or take the blame for you. I’m telling you that you did what needed to be done. War isn’t pretty and we both have done things in the past that in times of peace would have been unthinkable. Even the thought of what we’ve done turns my tanks but it needed to be done. You and I both know this has been a turning point for us in the war. As wrong as it was I don’t believe it was the wrong course of action. Megatron is dangerous. More importantly, Megatron is clever and charismatic and a good leader. Without him the Decepticons are weakened. I’m not going to make excuses for what we did but I will say that you can’t blame yourself because anyone else in your position would have done the same, maybe worse.”
Optimus looked like he was going to speak again but Ratchet held up a servo. Optimus looked slightly annoyed at the gesture and Ratchet had to remind himself that he wasn’t Primes Caretaker and couldn’t order his Commander around as though he were a mechling.
“You have to realize that as important as Megatron is to the Decepticon cause, you are equally, if not more important to the Autobot cause. Not as a Commander or a fighter but as a symbol. You stand for everything we fight for. The Decepticons would take what we have done here and use it to tear us apart. Nothing demoralizes a cause as much as a fallen hero.”
Optimus narrowed his optics, understanding beginning to dawn on him. “You’re saying we should hide what we’ve done?”
Ratchet nodded. “This is the wrong time and place in this fight to make ourselves into monsters, especially to our own side. It would destroy those young ‘bots that look up to you. It would strengthen the Decepticons who would use Megatron as a rallying point. Whatever advantages we’ve gained would be lost.”
This time Optimus sat down, feeling weary and every bit his age. Two sides dueled within him, the practical and the idealistic. He knew Ratchet was right and yet in his spark he knew that by going down this path he was ever so slowly turning into everything he was fighting against.
In some ways perhaps Megatron was right. Maybe he was a hypocrite. Perhaps Decepticons, as cruel and brutal as they could be, were perhaps simply more honest about their brutality while those of old Cybertron hid the very same brutality underneath a layer of morals and good intentioned appearances. Optimus had seen it back on old Cybertron and had fought against it and now he was finding that same filth, that same corruption and abuse of power in himself.
He was the mech that would turn Megatron, the slag maker himself, into a sympathetic victim.
The hypocrisy of his actions ate at him.
And still Ratchet was right.
Optimus’ servos clenched and he longed to use them. To fight in real honest combat instead of plotting in quiet rooms with only his quickly fading morals as the only voice of sanity left to him.
“If I am to remain quiet then it will be with a condition. This secret is not mine to tell. It is Megatrons.”
“Optimus?”
“I must do this. Megatron will be released; if he wishes to share the details of his imprisonment then I will deal with the consequences as they come.” Ratchet looked like he wanted to strongly object and this time it was Optimus who held up a servo. “We will win this war but we won’t do it by these methods. We have fought this war on the basis of building a new Cyberton, a united Cybertron that will not be ruled by the same greed and corruption and moral degradation that brought our race to ruin. If we continue to go down this path there will be no coming back from it. I believe, as I always have, that to truly win this war Decepticon and Autobot must unite was one. I truly wish I had never laid eyes on that slave coding but all I can do now is try to repair the damage I have done.”
“That coding might yet be what brings Cybertronians back from the brink of extinction.”
Optimus nodded. “Then perhaps it will serve a better purpose than the one we have used it for.”
He sighed and looked at the mechling.
All the actions he could ever take to make up for what he had done would never make it right. The mechlings very existence seemed a physical reminder of his failures.
He would never allow anything like that to happen again.
Perhaps one day his mechling might know of the events that had taken place on that island and judge him harshly for it. Until that day he would do his best to be a Sire worthy of the mechling who bore the name of a long dead mech with idealistic dreams and an incorruptible spark.
That mech, Orion Pax, who would be ashamed to see the mech he had become.
He would do better. For Orion Pax. Both of them. And for Megatron, the old friend he had wronged in so many ways.
***
Optimus had spent a long time after their talk watching over the mechling as Ratchet ran tests, mostly silent with an occasional expletive thrown in, clearly displeased with whatever he was finding. Judging by Ratchets intense focus on this monitors and the stormy expression he was sporting the mechlings test results were less than optimal.
“What did you find,” he asked of the medic.
“A virus, a nasty one at that. This mechling should have seen a medic ages ago, I could have caught it before it had progressed to this stage.”
Optimus felt his spark thrum in worry. “Is the mechling in danger?”
Ratchet threw a surprised look over his shoulder. “Danger? No, of course not. He would have been if left untreated but Megatron called us well before the mechling would have been in danger. I wouldn’t be surprised if this was the reason he called us in the first place. He seemed pretty attached to the little fragger.”
“Ratchet, that is my mechling you are talking about,” Optimus reminded him gently.
Ratchet waved his servo dismissively. “It’s a term of endearment. I’ll have you know I used to be quite good with mechlings before the war, but make no mistake, they’re all little fraggers, every last one of them.”
Optimus rolled his optics but said no more on the subject. “Tell me about the virus.”
“Hmm? Oh, it’s nothing as serious as I made it out to be. It scares the headlights off many new Caretakers though. The virus is just a common line of code controlling motor functions that got corrupted. It’s easy enough to fix but often the symptoms are rather dramatic. Judging by the dents on Orions helm I’d say he was exhibiting some self destructive behaviors before Megatron called us. Banging his head against walls and such.”
Ratchet walked over to the mechling and initiated a medical hardline connection, installing the new code directly into the mechling.
It took no more than a klik before Ratchet pulled away with a satisfied sound. “Good as new.”
Not a moment later the sound of engines hit their audials and both mechs shared a look.
The others were back.
They had decided on the flimsiest yet most plausible reason for the mechlings sudden appearance. The lie was that they had detected a Cybertonian life form and found the mechling in the desert with no logical idea how he had gotten there.
As fabrications went it was simple and not overly complicated, only requiring a great deal of confusion and shrugging on both Optimus and Ratchets parts.
Though Optimus was positive when Arcee spotted the mechling, raising an alarmed cry, the guilt on both their faces should have been obvious enough to immediately discredit any lie they told. Luckily everyone was too busy staring at the mechling to see their poorly hidden expressions.
The looks on everyone’s face ranged from shock to even more shock.
“Is that-“
“No way-“
“It is-“
“I thought I’d seen the last on Cybertron.”
“Bzzzbeeeep.”
“Is that a baby ‘bot? It’s so cute!”
A camera phone shutter sounded from the vicinity of Bulkheads shoulder.
With all the commotion and the ever rising volume of the ‘bots and humans it was no surprise when Orions optics flickered on.
All four ‘bots and three humans gasped simultaneously when the white optics came online, staring sleepily at the crowd of unfamiliar ‘bots. Optimus tensed, prepared for an outburst if the mechling became too overwhelmed or confused when he realized his Creator wasn’t there.
None of that happened.
Orion, after a startled pause, launched into jubilant series of clicks and chirps that had even the wary Prime cracking a smile.
White optics roved from face to face and his limbs kicked up a storm as the mechling, unable to contain his excitement, nearly flailed himself off the medical berth before Optimus steadied him. Orion grabbed Optimus’ servo the second it was in reach and used it to pull himself up in a move that seemed well practiced. He made a good effort but Optimus ended up helping the little mechling with a light servo on his back.
The collective sound his ‘bots made at the sight of the sitting mechling was enough for Ratchet to make a noise of disgust and proclaim, “Oh for the love of - get a hold of yourselves.”
Optimus smiled despite himself. Ratchets bark was worse than his bite; Optimus had personally seen him staring at the mechling with a near reverent look in his optics when he thought Optimus couldn’t see. Even now the medic was lacking his normal severity, and his words came off far more kindly he probably realized.
None of the ‘bots responded to the jab.
Of course the first to speak was Smokescreen, jumping straight into: “Can I hold him?”
Optimus sighed, wishing Smokescreen would contain his eagerness on occasion.
With a brief nod the racer scooped the mechling up and was immediately surrounded by ‘bots and humans trying to get a better look and making various iterations of the same ‘aww’ sound.
None of them had so far asked where the mechling came from. For a team of supposedly trained warriors they were all acting like a bunch of Caretakers on their first rounds of the mechling centre.
When Miko piped up with a loud “Let me hold him next” Optimus realized this was only the beginning of what was going to be a very long day.
AN: So that last part was totally last minute but I felt like it was a nice break from the uber depressingness I've been writing. The Optimus POV was also a somewhat last minute addition, originally I was going to have the story being 100% Megatrons POV but I decided Optimus' had some story that needed to be told. That will probably be the last of the Optimus POV (no guarantees tho).
And as always thank you all for your amazing reviews. *HUGS FOR ALL*
Next chapter
Rating: R
Pairing: Megatron/Optimus Prime
Warning: Mentions of non-con, mpreg (highlight for warnings, spoilers)
Summary: TF Prime. Optimus goes to extreme measures to stop Megatron once and for all
Optimus arrived via space bridge a short time later. Megatron had finished his mournful indulgence and was once again in control of his emotions.
He wasn’t surprised to find Ratchet with the other mech, trailing slightly behind, blades out and at the ready. Megatron didn’t see the need, he was unarmed and at the mercy of the slave coding, he couldn’t kill them even if he wanted to.
He held Orion close. The sight of Prime made his energon boil. He truly hated the mech for what had been done to him. Every moment of frustration and helplessness and terror at not knowing a mechling was growing within came back to him.
This was the mech he was going to entrust Orion to? One who would violate another mech to suit his own ends?
Clearly they were thinking similarly distressing thoughts about him.
The two bots stared at him and the mechling in horror.
Megatron could only imagine what a sight they made. Their worst foe, Decepticon Warlord and the subject of many an Autobots nightmare with a mechling cradled in his servos. If the situation hadn’t been quite so serious he might have found it amusing.
As it was Megatron was somewhat less than amused. His spark throbbed painfully in his chest and the urge to run was becoming an all consuming need.
He ruthlessly quashed the weak urges. He would do as he had always done, face down that which would make him weak and overcome it.
“By the all-spark, it’s true,” Ratchet said.
“It does seem to defy all logic, doesn’t it,” Megatron quipped drily.
“How?”
“You could explain better than I, medic. I was only aware of the mechlings existence on the day of its birth.”
Both ‘bots cringed slightly, whether from guilt or disgust or the sheer unnaturalness of it all he couldn’t tell. Megatron took a great deal of pleasure in their discomfort. Let them experience some of the horror and disgust he had felt.
It was Optimus who broke the silence. “May I touch him,” he asked quietly.
Megatron gave a short nod.
Optimus nervously moved forward until he was within striking distance. He paused as though unsure if Megatron was going to make a move against him. Megatron kept a neutral look on his face and Optimus closed the distance between them, reaching out a servo and gently placing it on Orions helm.
Megatron quashed the urge to strike at Prime, knowing the slave coding would only punish him for his efforts. Optimus had no right to touch Orion.
The mechling didn’t seem to mind however and eagerly clicked and chirped at Optimus, raising his servos to grab at the new mech. The enjoyment on Orions face was clear. White optics darted between his Creator, Prime and Ratchet, as though confirming in his own processor that the two strange mechs weren’t his creator in disguise.
“I had believed I had seen the last mechling on Cybertron. I could never have imagined, here on earth, and with you.” Optimus stepped away. “Megatron, I must apologize. It seemed the only option at the time but it was wrong. And for me to leave you alone all this time after I had -- I was a coward. You must understand I had never imagined this as a possibility. I swear upon my very life, Megatron, I never intended this.”
Megatron was silent. What could he say? Optimus was right. It was wrong and he was a coward. At any other time he would have gloated, held this over Primes head as an example of everything he had ever said about Autobots confirmed as truth. He couldn’t muster up the will to gloat. He was too tired and weary.
“I am sorry. Truly. As happy as I am to see a mechling again I wish it hadn’t come through these circumstances.”
Megatron held Orion closer. “As do I.”
They stared at each other, Megatron glaring, Optimus apologetic.
Ratchet choose this time to make himself known. “Megatron. I would like to perform some tests, if you don’t mind. Physical reproduction is something we had never considered before. Until I saw this I wouldn’t have believed it myself. This could be a turning point for us.”
Megatron eyed the medic up and down before nodding. “You may perform your tests.”
The medic was ecstatic and immediately began rambling on in medical jargon. Megatron was never very skilled in medical terms and procedures. While Knockout learned long ago not to bore his Master with such things Ratchet had clearly never learned the subtle art of laymans terms and kept on talking to Megatron in what might as well be a foreign language all the while running a scanner over his frame.
Orion seemed absolutely enchanted, staring wide optic’d at the scanner as though it were a gift from Primus himself.
Optimus looked on pensively.
“May I hold him,” Optimus asked. Megatron froze, immediately rejecting the idea. He took a step back. Ratchet dropped into a battle ready stance at the sudden movement. Optimus simply stared at Megatron with an expression that could only be pity. Megatron didn’t want his pity. “You care about him.”
“The mechling is my Creation.”
Optimus nodded his understanding. “I was under the impression that the mechlings life was in danger. I was mistaken.” He seemed uncertain as to how to continue. “The mechling is obviously loved and well taken care of. It …. would be a shame to separate one so young from his Creator.”
“I didn’t call you here on a whim, Prime,” he responded harshly. “I would prefer death to seeing my Creation in the care of an Autobot but I have little choice in the matter. Would you see the last remaining mechling live in exile with a fallen Warlord? What does this island have to offer a mechling? How can a mech such as I, who knows nothing but war and battle, care for one so young? He would be best surrounded by ‘bots like your Bumblebee and Arcee, even that Bulkhead seems the sort who would be better suited to Caretaking. “
Optimus looked pained. Behind him Ratchet was looking at Megatron with an expression of disbelief and something else that Megatron couldn’t identify.
“Take him, Prime.”
“Megatron-“
He shoved the mechling at Prime, earning a startled cry from Orion as Prime fumbled and held the mechling tight.
Before he could change his mind Megatron turned on his heel and walked away, ignoring Optimus’s calls and Orions sudden confused cries. Primus, how he wanted to run back and reclaim the mechling for his own but he didn’t. It was better this way.
“Megatron! I don’t even know his designation!”
“I call him Orion Pax,” Megatron called back, not halting his stride.
He kept walking, away from Prime, away from the cries of Orion.
***
Life on The Pit returned to a somewhat normal pace. He drank energon, he roamed, he stared out at the ocean and occasionally went down to the beach.
Everything was as it had been.
He hated it.
That first night after Prime and Ratchet had left with Orion Megatron had systematically destroyed the entire forest. He had made the mistake of going back to the small shelter he had made before Orions birth. It was just as he had left it and that infuriated him. He wanted everything to reflect how much had changed. It seemed wrong for the sun to shine and the forest to be so green and peaceful when he felt nothing but darkness swallowing him up from the inside.
He destroyed the shelter in a fit of rage and didn’t stop until the entire forest was gone.
There were no witnesses to his cries of rage. Not a living soul saw the half crazed mech tearing trees up by their roots, or sinking his claws into the ground and throwing massive rocks into the ocean while issuing challenging battle cries to the silent forest.
When there was nothing left to destroy his rage turned inward and he began clawing at his helm, gouging lines across his armoured hide that welled up with energon, over and over until he was too exhausted to continue.
He knelt in the ruins of the forest and he felt nothing.
***
Optimus truly believed himself to be a mech that, despite his flaws, tried his utmost to be a symbol of all he wished his Autobots, and indeed all Cybertronians to emulate.
It wasn’t vanity, though he knew of a ‘bot or two who would disagree, rather it was that he believed with a position of leadership came the responsibility to be a role model. How could he expect those under his command to do any less than he would himself?
Ever since he had become Prime he had lived by that standard. He would never expect the ‘bots who followed him to do anything he wasn’t willing to do, likewise he wouldn’t expect them to display behaviors Optimus himself wouldn’t uphold himself. He didn’t take his role as Prime lightly. He believed in what he fought for, he believed in his morals and ideals and he expected those under his command to follow the ideals that he tried to exemplify.
That way of life had served him for orns.
Until now.
Here he was, holding the mechling he had sired upon an unwilling mech.
For the first time in a long time Optimus felt like the worst kind of fraud.
Not since his early days, fresh from the Archives and new to the role of Prime, had he felt as though everything he was and everything he was trying to do was a sham.
He was everything Megatron had accused him of and worse.
“Optimus,” said Ratchet carefully, “maybe you should sit down. It will be a while before the others get back, we should figure out what to do. How to explain this.”
Optimus stared down at the recharging mechling. The poor thing had cried itself into recharge when Megatron had left and was even now restless and nervous. Its little pedes twitched, tapping slightly on the examination table.
“I won’t explain to them, Ratchet. I will tell them the truth. The mistakes I have made are unforgivable and I will be judged accordingly.”
Ratchet seemed to hesitate over what he was going to say. If the troubled expression on his faceplates was any indication Prime wasn’t going to like what his old friend was going to say.
“Optimus. You are one of the best mechs I know. I have followed you into the Pit and back and would do it again. You know that, I know that, everybody knows that.”
“Ratchet, I don’t need reassurance,” Prime chided softly.
“Just listen to me you big idiot. I’m not trying to reassure you, I’m trying to make a point. I follow you but you listen to my advice. No leader works in a void and very few leaders take action without consultation. I am as much a part of this as you are.”
“And yet I am your Commander. Therefore the responsibility will be mine. I won’t have you taking the blame for actions that were my own, nor will I have you taking responsibility for a plan that I conceived.”
“Prime! Will you stop talking and listen to me. Please,” he added as an afterthought. “I’m not trying to reassure you or take the blame for you. I’m telling you that you did what needed to be done. War isn’t pretty and we both have done things in the past that in times of peace would have been unthinkable. Even the thought of what we’ve done turns my tanks but it needed to be done. You and I both know this has been a turning point for us in the war. As wrong as it was I don’t believe it was the wrong course of action. Megatron is dangerous. More importantly, Megatron is clever and charismatic and a good leader. Without him the Decepticons are weakened. I’m not going to make excuses for what we did but I will say that you can’t blame yourself because anyone else in your position would have done the same, maybe worse.”
Optimus looked like he was going to speak again but Ratchet held up a servo. Optimus looked slightly annoyed at the gesture and Ratchet had to remind himself that he wasn’t Primes Caretaker and couldn’t order his Commander around as though he were a mechling.
“You have to realize that as important as Megatron is to the Decepticon cause, you are equally, if not more important to the Autobot cause. Not as a Commander or a fighter but as a symbol. You stand for everything we fight for. The Decepticons would take what we have done here and use it to tear us apart. Nothing demoralizes a cause as much as a fallen hero.”
Optimus narrowed his optics, understanding beginning to dawn on him. “You’re saying we should hide what we’ve done?”
Ratchet nodded. “This is the wrong time and place in this fight to make ourselves into monsters, especially to our own side. It would destroy those young ‘bots that look up to you. It would strengthen the Decepticons who would use Megatron as a rallying point. Whatever advantages we’ve gained would be lost.”
This time Optimus sat down, feeling weary and every bit his age. Two sides dueled within him, the practical and the idealistic. He knew Ratchet was right and yet in his spark he knew that by going down this path he was ever so slowly turning into everything he was fighting against.
In some ways perhaps Megatron was right. Maybe he was a hypocrite. Perhaps Decepticons, as cruel and brutal as they could be, were perhaps simply more honest about their brutality while those of old Cybertron hid the very same brutality underneath a layer of morals and good intentioned appearances. Optimus had seen it back on old Cybertron and had fought against it and now he was finding that same filth, that same corruption and abuse of power in himself.
He was the mech that would turn Megatron, the slag maker himself, into a sympathetic victim.
The hypocrisy of his actions ate at him.
And still Ratchet was right.
Optimus’ servos clenched and he longed to use them. To fight in real honest combat instead of plotting in quiet rooms with only his quickly fading morals as the only voice of sanity left to him.
“If I am to remain quiet then it will be with a condition. This secret is not mine to tell. It is Megatrons.”
“Optimus?”
“I must do this. Megatron will be released; if he wishes to share the details of his imprisonment then I will deal with the consequences as they come.” Ratchet looked like he wanted to strongly object and this time it was Optimus who held up a servo. “We will win this war but we won’t do it by these methods. We have fought this war on the basis of building a new Cyberton, a united Cybertron that will not be ruled by the same greed and corruption and moral degradation that brought our race to ruin. If we continue to go down this path there will be no coming back from it. I believe, as I always have, that to truly win this war Decepticon and Autobot must unite was one. I truly wish I had never laid eyes on that slave coding but all I can do now is try to repair the damage I have done.”
“That coding might yet be what brings Cybertronians back from the brink of extinction.”
Optimus nodded. “Then perhaps it will serve a better purpose than the one we have used it for.”
He sighed and looked at the mechling.
All the actions he could ever take to make up for what he had done would never make it right. The mechlings very existence seemed a physical reminder of his failures.
He would never allow anything like that to happen again.
Perhaps one day his mechling might know of the events that had taken place on that island and judge him harshly for it. Until that day he would do his best to be a Sire worthy of the mechling who bore the name of a long dead mech with idealistic dreams and an incorruptible spark.
That mech, Orion Pax, who would be ashamed to see the mech he had become.
He would do better. For Orion Pax. Both of them. And for Megatron, the old friend he had wronged in so many ways.
***
Optimus had spent a long time after their talk watching over the mechling as Ratchet ran tests, mostly silent with an occasional expletive thrown in, clearly displeased with whatever he was finding. Judging by Ratchets intense focus on this monitors and the stormy expression he was sporting the mechlings test results were less than optimal.
“What did you find,” he asked of the medic.
“A virus, a nasty one at that. This mechling should have seen a medic ages ago, I could have caught it before it had progressed to this stage.”
Optimus felt his spark thrum in worry. “Is the mechling in danger?”
Ratchet threw a surprised look over his shoulder. “Danger? No, of course not. He would have been if left untreated but Megatron called us well before the mechling would have been in danger. I wouldn’t be surprised if this was the reason he called us in the first place. He seemed pretty attached to the little fragger.”
“Ratchet, that is my mechling you are talking about,” Optimus reminded him gently.
Ratchet waved his servo dismissively. “It’s a term of endearment. I’ll have you know I used to be quite good with mechlings before the war, but make no mistake, they’re all little fraggers, every last one of them.”
Optimus rolled his optics but said no more on the subject. “Tell me about the virus.”
“Hmm? Oh, it’s nothing as serious as I made it out to be. It scares the headlights off many new Caretakers though. The virus is just a common line of code controlling motor functions that got corrupted. It’s easy enough to fix but often the symptoms are rather dramatic. Judging by the dents on Orions helm I’d say he was exhibiting some self destructive behaviors before Megatron called us. Banging his head against walls and such.”
Ratchet walked over to the mechling and initiated a medical hardline connection, installing the new code directly into the mechling.
It took no more than a klik before Ratchet pulled away with a satisfied sound. “Good as new.”
Not a moment later the sound of engines hit their audials and both mechs shared a look.
The others were back.
They had decided on the flimsiest yet most plausible reason for the mechlings sudden appearance. The lie was that they had detected a Cybertonian life form and found the mechling in the desert with no logical idea how he had gotten there.
As fabrications went it was simple and not overly complicated, only requiring a great deal of confusion and shrugging on both Optimus and Ratchets parts.
Though Optimus was positive when Arcee spotted the mechling, raising an alarmed cry, the guilt on both their faces should have been obvious enough to immediately discredit any lie they told. Luckily everyone was too busy staring at the mechling to see their poorly hidden expressions.
The looks on everyone’s face ranged from shock to even more shock.
“Is that-“
“No way-“
“It is-“
“I thought I’d seen the last on Cybertron.”
“Bzzzbeeeep.”
“Is that a baby ‘bot? It’s so cute!”
A camera phone shutter sounded from the vicinity of Bulkheads shoulder.
With all the commotion and the ever rising volume of the ‘bots and humans it was no surprise when Orions optics flickered on.
All four ‘bots and three humans gasped simultaneously when the white optics came online, staring sleepily at the crowd of unfamiliar ‘bots. Optimus tensed, prepared for an outburst if the mechling became too overwhelmed or confused when he realized his Creator wasn’t there.
None of that happened.
Orion, after a startled pause, launched into jubilant series of clicks and chirps that had even the wary Prime cracking a smile.
White optics roved from face to face and his limbs kicked up a storm as the mechling, unable to contain his excitement, nearly flailed himself off the medical berth before Optimus steadied him. Orion grabbed Optimus’ servo the second it was in reach and used it to pull himself up in a move that seemed well practiced. He made a good effort but Optimus ended up helping the little mechling with a light servo on his back.
The collective sound his ‘bots made at the sight of the sitting mechling was enough for Ratchet to make a noise of disgust and proclaim, “Oh for the love of - get a hold of yourselves.”
Optimus smiled despite himself. Ratchets bark was worse than his bite; Optimus had personally seen him staring at the mechling with a near reverent look in his optics when he thought Optimus couldn’t see. Even now the medic was lacking his normal severity, and his words came off far more kindly he probably realized.
None of the ‘bots responded to the jab.
Of course the first to speak was Smokescreen, jumping straight into: “Can I hold him?”
Optimus sighed, wishing Smokescreen would contain his eagerness on occasion.
With a brief nod the racer scooped the mechling up and was immediately surrounded by ‘bots and humans trying to get a better look and making various iterations of the same ‘aww’ sound.
None of them had so far asked where the mechling came from. For a team of supposedly trained warriors they were all acting like a bunch of Caretakers on their first rounds of the mechling centre.
When Miko piped up with a loud “Let me hold him next” Optimus realized this was only the beginning of what was going to be a very long day.
AN: So that last part was totally last minute but I felt like it was a nice break from the uber depressingness I've been writing. The Optimus POV was also a somewhat last minute addition, originally I was going to have the story being 100% Megatrons POV but I decided Optimus' had some story that needed to be told. That will probably be the last of the Optimus POV (no guarantees tho).
And as always thank you all for your amazing reviews. *HUGS FOR ALL*
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