Flashing lights and the booming of cannons were all around; the din of battle rang through every soldier's audials. It had been slowly dying down, with the Decepticons losing ground fast and the Autobots making their way in for the kill. This time had been brutal. Nothing Ultra Magnus hadn't seen before, but the sight was still something one had to harden their spark to face for more than short stints.
Every bot in sight was feeling the affects of fatigue, showing signs of stress in their frames from hours of nonstop fighting. By now Magnus couldn't even remember what had started this skirmish, nor did he really care about anything more than finishing the job and getting back to the ship.
In his peripheral, he could see a fiery streak dashing for a retreating 'Con. Rodimus had been fighting valiantly this entire time, taking down more of the opposite team than Magnus cared to count. The boy had really grown into his Prime status, something the older mech been proud of. From seeing Rodimus start out as a youngspark under the name of Hot Rod, growing into an adult and taking over responsibility despite initial difficulty, he couldn't help the swell of pride in his spark every time he saw that leadership in action. Like this very moment.
What he failed to notice was the dark presence looming behind him, aiming for a pot shot at Magnus' back, right over his spark chamber.
Time seemed to stop, and in the seconds that Rodimus turned and caught sight of the 'Con, the blue mech wondered at the strange, horrified look on the young Prime's face, only realizing perhaps a sliver of an astrosecond too late that Rodimus was running for him, yelling for him. Instinct kicked into overdrive, but by the time he'd started to turn, readying his gun, the deafening sound of close-range gunfire filled his audio receptors. But instead of feeling excruciating pain, something had shoved against his side, hard enough to knock a grunt out of him and slam him to the unforgiving ground.
The shriek of metal being torn right through and the pained, screaming keen of his comrade was perhaps the last thing he ever wanted to hear in his life. The sight of Rodimus collapsing to the ground beside him, chassis ripped open like it was sheet metal, was even worse.
If he were to go back over that memory file carefully, he'd find the moment that he turned to fire a shot right through the 'Con's helm while giving a roar of a battle cry would be completely blacked out, nonexistent. The next thing he knew, he was kneeling over the orange and red mech, horrified at the size of the energon pool beneath him, like he'd been for his very first battle. Shakily, a hand raised, gingerly resting his fingers against the edge of the hole that emptied where a good portion of his spark chamber had been not more than seconds ago.
His vocalizer quivered, words having difficulty forming, but he finally managed to eke out a soft, "Roddy…"
Azure optics flickered half-online, dimmer than their usual cocky glow, but still just as glad to see an old companion hovering over him like a worried creator. Rodimus swallowed a bit, the corners of his mouth pulling into a smile. "Did you get him, Mag?"
Magnus forced a nod, stiff and curt. Which in turn made the wounded mech smile a bit wider, optics winking. "Heh, good. Was a.. low blow of him, yeah? At least.. you're safe. He didn't hit you." A pause, and the Prime finally realized his predicament, glancing down towards his now gaping chassis and biting back the fear that engulfed what remained of his core. His helm laid back, gaze trained on the murky sky above, and his smile faded a little before he forced it back up. "Hey. Remember what I promised, Mag? I'm sorry.. I couldn't keep you safe.. a little longer."
A memory file plagued at Magnus before he could stop it; the other's words had pulled it to the forefront of his cortex. It'd been another busy day, eons ago when the war was still new, before the casualty rate had hit its steep incline. Rodimus was still Hot Rod, a snarky and playful little mechling with his optics set to the stars and beyond. Magnus had more or less taken charge of him as he finished his academics, hoping to mold him into a good soldier.
They'd played together with Blurr that day, and after returning to Roddy's quarters to get him ready for bed, the two of them settled into the berth with a datapad filled tot he brim with the story of the Knights. Roddy's favourite story. Magnus had a habit of having the youngling read to him to improve his speech and vocabulary skills, helping him along when there was a struggle. It was when they reached the lines about the Knights leaving Cybertron that Roddy had stopped, looking up at his caretaker with wide, sad optics. "Maggie, why did the Knights go away?"
Magnus had suddenly found it difficult to explain, and a glitch threatened to appear in his vocals. "Well… they believed that the war wasn't one worth fighting. That our reasons to rise against the Decepticons, and the Decepticons' reasons for rebellion, weren't enough to warrant a full on war like this. They wanted to strive for peace, and not to be warriors but protectors, guardians. They wanted to serve Cybertronians as a whole, as equals."
Roddy, seemingly satisfied with that explanation, nodded sadly, and curled into Magnus' side. "I hope they come back soon… Cybertron needs them."
Another wrench to Magnus' spark. This kid was too wise for his age. Perhaps a side effect of being brought up in this kind of situation. A large hand stroked over the smaller red helm, soothing the young mech. His voice was softer as he replied, "Yeah.. Cybertron does need… something. But you know what? We have plenty of good mechs to take care of us. And when you get older, you'll be helping to protect us too."
That warranted a much brighter expression, and Roddy nodded eagerly. "I wanna be like you when I grow up, Maggie. Big and strong! And really smart. So then…" A yawn interrupted him, and he sagged back, fatigue winning him over. "So then I can… keep Cybertron safe… and you. Especially you."
The warmth that promise had given him back then was now an icy stab through his spark, and Magnus fought back the coolant forming at the edges of his optics, curling over the still-smiling mech beneath him. Even if Rodimus could cling to life for just a bit longer, there was no way he could be repaired in time to be saved. It would be too long before a medic could rescue him, and Magnus was in no knowledge of what to do to sustain what little spark there was left. In the face of that opposition, he did what he could, grasping the smaller mech's hands in his own, leaning over in his kneel to press their forehelms into a soft contact.
"Roddy… you've done well to protect us all. You did well. I'm proud of you."
A little sound of breath, and another bright smile was his response, and those words seemed enough for the young Prime to be satisfied with.
Despite being alone, despite being drowned out by the remains of the battle in the distance, and despite the tear in his very being upon feeling the last hint of life leaving that thin frame, Magnus held back his cry, allowing himself only to quiver and quietly shed his sorrow over Rodimus' smiling face.
"Sleep well, Roddy…"
