Title: End Of The War
Rate: T
Type: Drama Angst
Character (A): Optimus Prime
Character (B): Ironhide
I wrote this after reading BlackRose' Sharing, CaBrPi's Sentinel and Spiritimus Prime's Mai Dimenticare. I was deeply moved by these fics, and an idea of writing something in English has been haunting me since then.
A few plots in the 3 fics I mentioned above are used in this one, in my respect and gratitude towards them and their authors.
Disclaim: Neither Transformers nor any character mentioned belongs to me. Rated T for safe.
P.S. Please forgive me for some possible grammar mistakes and words misuses coz I'm not a native speaker of English. Reviews are welcomed.
Then the war finally ended.
Optimus stood there, looking up to the dim sky from the corpses of Megatron and Sentinel.
There was nothing. Nothing left in sight even for a Cybertronian to see through his optics. Outside the earth atmosphere, catastrophic explosions erupted by the sudden disconnection between the Bridge and the steel-structured planet, Cybertron. High level of pressure and gravity smashed the planet into bits and pieces, tore it, demolished it and swallowed it down into the unknown darkness of the space.
Nothing has been left. Not a single trace of its past glory or even the existence of this splendor world was left, except the few surviving individuals of Autobots. Surviving, yes, their race has just had a narrow escape from an entire extinction.
He sighed behind his mask which was slightly splintered during the battle but could still hide away any trace of his emotions so no one would ever notice.
5 years on the earth, only 5 years, too short a period of time for Cybertronians compared with their millions of years' life on average. But only in these 5 years, Optimus Prime lost his first lieutenant; he lost his weapon specialist, his mentor and many more comrades as well as friends, families. And he lost his Cybertron. But after all their death, after all this loss, he could only put forward one plain statement; he would only be allowed to make such an indifferent declaration. "Earth is our new home now. The day will never come when we forsake it or its people." He said.
Because he was a Prime. There was no way for him to release his grief, nobody for him to share his complex emotions with. All that he could do was to force back any expression he'd wanted to give behind his mask, and to bury them in the depth of his spark, which consequently caused an indistinct sense of pain to strike his system occasionally. The pain was faint but inevitable, it may fade to a milder degree, but would never extinct, as it always was.
Ironhide was gone. His cannons, which the weapon specialist had always taken pride in, his frame, his parts, his everything were no more. The sturdy old mech, the most experienced soldier who had been through countless battles during the war, was corroded to rust by merely two shots from Sentinel's corrosive rifle. Even the best Autobot medic could not bring him back to life. Occasions like this seldom happened to Ratchet when he felt helpless to figure out a breakthrough where he could set his hands to an operation to resurrect his dead comrades.
That day, after maintaining Optimus' broken arm and other big or small injuries among his fellow Autobots, Ratchet isolated himself in his temporary medbay and didn't come out until Optimus returned from the Pentagon. He stopped by for a recheck in his new arm, but a sudden howl of keen held his next pace from entering the medbay. Optimus stood still by the gate looking inside through the half-opened door and was astonished to see the medic kneeling on the ground, curling into himself while giving out a continuous sob of grief. It was clear to distinguish his attempt to cease such a moody act from his trembling back armor, and it was even less difficult to find out that the medic still failed to do so since his volume of crying had been rising all along.
Optimus stepped back, transformed into his truck form and drove off along the deserted highway leading across Chicago. He switched off all internal channels and shut himself in entire silence, though he wasn't actually sure his purpose of doing these. Honestly he wasn't feeling good at that time when he saw Ratchet mourning alone, and he almost couldn't help himself from entering the medbay to comfort his old friend. Over the years, both the medic and Optimus himself had been through so many similar occasions when they lost their comrades that they were finally able to cease their sadness and devote themselves back to the war in time. But this time, everything seemed to be a little different.
He had been talking too much that day, Optimus gave himself this as an excuse, and in fact he certainly had. Since the first second after he dropped Megatron's weapon, he had been on line with the American government telling them everything they needed to be aware of and everything else they'd wanted to know. And when he set out from their place, evening had already descended. A tranquil darkness of night finally came after the last combat. But this sort of tranquility brought him a long-forgotten sense of relief that made him feel unaccustomed. Incredible. And this sudden windup also provided him with too much more than enough time to digest all his grief and sorrow.
The high way led to the desert where Optimus Prime and Sentinel Prime had their first talk after his revival. Now Optimus could still remember when Sentinel sighed for the majesty and peace of the earth, and when he told him not to morn the past. He could still remember the scene when the warm glow of the dusk sun shed on their armor, just like hope. Just like the hope supposed to be brought to their race by Sentinel, but never did it arrive.
No one ever foresaw Sentinel's betrayal. No one could have. Ironhide paid his life for overtrust. Which practiced warrior ever exists would expose his back to an enemy? He did, without realizing it at all though. Neither Ironhide nor Optimus could have predicted Setinel taking this cruel way to claim his compromise with Megatron, which at the same time, signing his abandonment in principle and his own belief. From the very beginning of the golden era on Cybertron, Sentinel had taken the name of Autobot as a banner and taught all his fellow alliances that freedom was the right of all sentient beings. He used to be the leader of Autobots, receiving all trust and respect from them, leading them, fighting alongside with them, pulling through the years bathing under the hellfire of war until the last darkness before dawn.
But he gave it all up. He gave all the past and future of Cybertron up. He used his invention to transport Decepticon soldiers to earth in attempt to enslave its people. So Optimus had to make a choice, for himself, for human beings and for Cybertron. And at last, he killed Sentinel with his own hands, indirectly pushed his home planet into eternal disappearance. Now he didn't want to recall anything about this decision, because he wasn't sure whether he would regret it, whether the human race would die out if someone gave him an opportunity to make the choice once again.
To stop himself from thinking more about this dilemma, Optimus switched on his internal channels and found an audio message from Ratchet. The medic seemed recovered from his grief, for there was no trace of it in his voice any more. He just now reported to Optimus about the little spar between Dino and Sideswipe in memory of their mentor. They fought against each other just the same way as Ironhide used to teach them. The prime sighed with consolation when he found his comrades had made through their sorrow so soon. They lost their friends and mentors in the war, and so did Optimus. But he knew that they would never forget about the time when they had still been with them, never forget the knowledge and courage they had taught them. Those ones who had passed away would never come back to life again; only thing for surviving ones to do was to cherish the peace and freedom they sacrificed their lives to protect. And as for Optimus Prime, he would certainly do the same, alongside with everyone.