Alright! This is a gift fic for the wonderful Athena Liu, one of my readers of my "Guardians of Life" story. She requested a fic with "Optimus doing serious stuff."
So, here he is, doing serious stuff!
...And sad stuff. I actually cried writing part of this.
Please enjoy, and review if you'd like! (And I hope you'd like to review!)
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I'm too poor for that.
The doors to the medbay creaked open. Optimus Prime was immediately hit with the stench of dried energon and scorched metal, and another smell he couldn't describe…the smell of death. The Great War had been raging for vorns upon vorns, so long that very few mechs remember when there was peace on the planet. It had claimed countless innocent lives, and Optimus felt the weight of each and every one of their deaths on his shoulders. It was seen in the way he walked, with a slow, heavy tread that almost burst with despair.
"Optimus," Ratchet called, walking towards his commander.
"How are you holding up?" he asked the CMO, surveying the scene of medics running throughout the room. Each and every one of them was stained with mech fluids and energon.
Ratchet shook his head. "We've had to pull all bots in the science department to lend us a hand. Our supplies are depleted. Soon we won't have any way to repair the damaged mechs that keep flowing in."
Optimus spoke with a voice heavy with regret. "Is there any way you could use parts from the dead mechs?"
"Oh, uh…I'm sure we could find a way to make it work. It would be completely unconventional…but with the help of the science bots I'm sure we could make their parts compatible, though it will take some time. But…are you sure you want to do such a thing?"
"This is war, Ratchet," Optimus replied sadly. "The dead don't get the respect and dedication that they deserve. The best we can do for them now is keep them alive in our memories, and show them their deaths were not for nothing."
Ratchet nodded slowly in agreement. "I'll get to work on it right away."
"Thank you, old friend. Be sure to pass my thanks to everyone for working so hard. I'm forever in their debt."
"Will do, Optimus," Ratchet said, attempting a small smile. He then ran off to a group of medics and scientists, explaining what they would be doing.
Optimus slowly made his way towards the beginning of the long line of medbay berths to visit each and every bedridden mech. They would immediately sit up taller and speak louder when their commander was at their side, marveling at the fact that their leader, the great Optimus Prime, would take the time to visit with such lowly soldiers as themselves. Optimus would thank each and every one of them for fighting with him and smile at the reactions of the dumbstruck mechs, asking how their families were or what they liked to do in their free time. To the untrained optic, Optimus looked like he enjoyed being in the medbay and talking to his soldiers.
But he didn't.
Optimus hated the medbay. The feeling of death and the screams of those in pain shot through his systems like ice. The cries of families who lost loved ones and the sights of mechs barely recognizable as mechs would haunt him until his death. But if there was one thing Optimus learned from being a leader, it was how important it was to keep up morale in such a dire situation. Visiting the injured gave them hope. They felt important, like they could make a difference instead of just being an insignificant member of the team. Not to mention if the healthy soldiers saw their Prime talking and visiting with the injured, they would think to themselves, "The situation can't be that bad if our leader still has time to visit the medbay so often. If we were really in such bad shape, he would be in his office thinking up battle strategies." The soldiers would believe they were better off than they actually were, giving them a confidence boost in battle that was more valuble than any weapon they could be carrying…If they knew the full reality of their situation, courage and motivation would instantly be crushed.
Megatron's forces weren't just a few hundred mechs like the Autobots. He had thousands and thousands of hard-trained warriors who could hardly wait to rip the Autobots limb from limb. The Decepticons were by far stronger and much more battle oriented than Optimus's soldiers would ever be…but Megatron didn't have soldiers. No, he had killing machines.
If it weren't for the fact Optimus knew exactly how cruel the Decepticons were under Megatron's command, he would be tempted to surrender. He wasn't a fighter. Optimus was a pacifist thrown into the middle of a war. In fact, part of the reason he kept visiting the medbay he despised so much was to give himself a reason to stay out of the fighting. Though he was the Autobot's leading officer, he was never in battle. He was always the one behind the plan of attack, but never went through with it himself. And he definitely didn't choose this leadership position--he was unanimously chosen by the very mechs he would command at the war's beginning. Chosen by mechs that risked--and lost--their lives for him. Mechs that didn't care that their commander didn't fight, because they would fight for him. He felt guilty for sending so many soldiers into battle when he himself was too scared to fight, but Optimus was so inexperienced with fighting that he felt he'd be more of a hindrance than a help.
Today, only four of the original soldiers who chose him remained: Ratchet, Ironhide, Prowl, and Jazz. Consequently, lasting this long with each other over the innumerable vorns brought them together. They were each other's source of comfort and solace when a battle took an unusually hard toll on them or another close friend was killed. Now, after seeing so much of the war, and how it could take someone away in an instant, they were more important than just friends to Optimus…they were like his family.
A loud yell brought Optimus out of his reverie. He looked across the medbay to see Ratchet and several other medics hovering over a berth a few mechs down.
"There's…there's nothing else we can do. The supplies aren't r-ready," Ratchet stammered, stepping back.
"What happened?" Optimus asked, running over. "Oh no…Prowl…"
Prowl was lying on the medbay, mouth clenched tightly closed in pain. Cuts and slashes covered his body and energon slowly leaked from the opened lines. "Optimus, Ratchet," he gasped, closing his optics from the effort. "Where's Jazz…and 'Hide…"
"Jazz is on his way," Ratchet said softly, shooing the other medics away to give him a little more privacy. "Ironhide is away on a mission. He won't make it in time."
Optimus knelt down and held his second in command's hand. "We can try to get him on the com link for you if you'd like," he added.
Prowl nodded and Optimus immediately called Ironhide. A few moments passed before he picked up a signal.
"Optimus," Ironhide's voice projected from the leader's com link. "Is everything okay? Its unusual for you to call when I'm on a mission."
"Its Prowl. He's…he's dying."
Static, then…"N…no…Prowl!"
"I'm sorry, 'Hide…the last battle took…a little more out of me…than I could handle," Prowl replied, gasping every few words. Optimus gently squeezed his hand and Ratchet was on his other side, his hand on Prowl's shoulder.
"Can't you give him anything for the pain?" Optimus asked worriedly.
"No…save it…for a mech that n-needs it…"
"Slag it, Prowl, you need it!" Optimus cried desperately. But Prowl only shook his head.
"That's Prowl for ya…" Ironhide said. "Always looking out for others." Optimus and Ratchet nodded in their agreement, but it didn't make them feel any better about Prowl's decision. It hurt them almost as much to see him in such pain.
Jazz suddenly burst through the doors and was at Prowl's side within astroseconds. "Prowl!" he yelled, skidding to a halt by his berth.
"Jazz…you made it…" Prowl smiled weakly.
"Of course I made it," he replied, grabbing hold of his other hand. He wished he could say, "And you will too," but he knew without a doubt that Prowl was dying. Fast.
Prowl attempted a smile again, looking at the worried faces of his friends. "Promise me…you won't be so hard…on yourselves when…I'm gone."
Hearing Prowl say it caused all four of the mechs to lose their composure. Tears fell down their faces as they struggled not to openly sob. They heard Ironhide blast something with his cannon out of frustration.
"Ironhide," Prowl called. "Don't let me get in the way…of your mission…or your sharp shooting. We need more mechs…like you."
"…Okay." Ironhide said quietly. "But I'll still miss you, Prowlie."
Prowl chuckled slightly at the use of his nickname. He never used to like it much until today. "Jazz…when I go, you will be…second in command. Serve Optimus well."
"I'll never be able to live up to your name, but know I'll try my fragging best Prowlie," Jazz replied, squeezing Prowl's hand. Prowl chuckled softly once more.
"Ratchet, you are by far…the best medic the Autobots could wish for. Don't…beat yourself up over losing…some mechs. You work so many miracles…every orn and have the respect…of every soldier."
Ratchet nodded slowly, wiping tears from his optics. "Thank you, Prowlie," he said simply. The CMO was too overcome with emotion to say anything more.
Prowl then turned to his leader. "Optimus, you are the greatest…and I mean greatest leader…I ever could have served. Your dedication to each individual…is something Megatron will never have. And its this difference…that will win us the war. Don't give up…and don't doubt yourself. Be the leader…I know you can be."
Optimus closed his optics as Prowl was speaking. He was shattering every doubt Optimus ever gave himself. Others had told him the same thing time and time before, but it wasn't until now that those words really hit home.
"That means so much to me," he said, wiping tears from his optics in a futile attempt to regain composure. "And I promise to make sure your death is not in vain…Prowlie."
Prowl let a single tear fall from his optics as he said his last goodbyes to his closest friends.
"Bye, Prowlie."
"We'll miss you."
"It's been great knowing you."
"You've been a great friend."
Prowl slowly closed his optics and exhaled, his face relaxing into a smile as his Spark finally went out.
Ironhide wordlessly shut off his com link, knowing he had to get back to his mission, no matter how much he wanted to quit. Keeping the com link open would only make things harder. The other three mechs were still gathered around Prowl's berth, mourning his death in silence. But their mourning was short-lived.
"Optimus!" Bumblebee yelled, running through the medbay. "I have urgent news!"
The Prime immediately composed himself and stood as the scout approached. "Report."
"Megatron is launching the attack on the south side earlier than we anticipated. He's got way more troops than we thought he'd bring, too!"
Optimus nodded, then said, "Gather everyone that's able to walk. We need to head Megatron off before he gets in too far."
"Yes, sir!" Bumblebee said, running off.
"Optimus! Where are you going?" Jazz asked as his leader followed Bumblebee.
Optimus turned around. "To battle," he said fiercely, a new fire blazing behind his optics. He ejected the energon swords from his forearms and replaced his faceplate over his mouth. The entire medbay hushed, marveling at the sight of their commander preparing for battle. Optimus's power was radiating off him in near-tangible waves…it was a scene mechs would pass down through the ages.
Jazz met up with him and they both strode out of the medbay amidst cheers and roars that erupted from the soldiers. Optimus turned to his new second in command. "Its time I become the leader Prowl knew I could be."
Alright! Hope you enjoyed the story! I liked writing it, even though I did cry when I had Prowl die. T.T
Reviews would be absolutely adored!