Note: "normal speech", ::comm line::, ::bond talk::
Part II.
Ark
Every mech on the Ark knew where they've been gone and why. No officer told about it to anyone but they still knew. It was just simply too big to just remain a secret. The end of the war, the deactivation of Megatron and most importantly the miraculous return of Optimus, when no mech believed any more that he was alive – all thanks to the Seeker who was usually sneered at by most Bots? Right now, Starscream was fast approaching the level of a positive hero in the wild rumours that ran across the Ark like wildfire and occasionally even contained a grain of truth in them. Accidentally of course. No officer has said anything after all.
About the only hard fact that was known was that a strict cease-fire was in effect and Prowl promised a long-long stay in the brig for anyone who broke it, even accidentally. But it wasn't needed. They all knew that Ratchet was over on the Nemesis and Optimus's fate was more or less depending on observing said truce. Both facts alone would have been enough even the biggest hotheads on the ship to hold back and make nice had they met a Decepticon alone, outside the Ark. Even the Human authorities were strongly asked not to react if they saw colourful jets flying overhead – and they promised it too, as far as those fliers didn't attack anything.
But no fliers were even seen over the mainland and no Decepticon activity was observed either, after a wild chase that involved a lone black truck and two dark-coloured shuttles who ignored any humans or human structures around and fought a vicious mini-battle that left the scant observers who hasn't run immediately, with jaws hanging. Humans never before saw these biggest Decepticons fight among each other, much less do it till death. Because at the end the two shuttles flew away, albeit with their bright pink energon dripping from numerous wounds, but with the black truck clearly unmoving and dark between them, probably deactivated. It was just before the ceasefire, and since it involved only the Cons, nobody cared overasmuch.
Since that, noone saw the Cons and nobody missed them either. The Autobots continued with the patrols and their regular duties in and around the Ark, mainly because they couldn't trust fully in them and besides it was necessary to take their minds off of other things and keep the more active younger bots occupied. They still had enough time to spread and discuss rumours anyway…
The three orns have gone slower than many vorns before. By the end of it the Ark closely resembled to a madhouse with sparks flying as arguments of every denomination broke out among the apprehensive mechs; so much so that even their human allies chose to leave the Bots alone before they calmed down again. They understood them, and Optimus Prime's fate was no small matter to them either, much less the possible peace which would have meant the end of the constant raids and skirmishes, all taking heavy human casualties and damage.
Nobody said when Skyfire was expected to arrive back, but still, all Autobots were at the entrance when he did. Prowl simply didn't have the spark to order them away. Optimus Prime was more than just a leader for them, more than just a religious icon and Primus's Chosen. They all cared about him on several personal levels from hero-worship and being a creator-figure till a friend, confidante and even in some cases as a hidden, unrequited love. When he was ambushed and disappeared, presumed deactivated after several unsuccessful rescue missions, there were some bots on the Ark who had wished that they'd professed their affection before.
But then, he was a Prime, their leader and the bearer of the Matrix. How could a bot approach him that way and say that he loved him? How could a bot take the answer to such an admission if it was a negative one? And finally… how could a bot ever say it to him now, after what he went through? The thoughts and emotions were chaotic in him. He wasn't used to having such strong emotions and certainly not expressing them. But he wanted to make it right for him, make him forget and replace the horroristic memories with love and caring – in whatever way he could.
He stood among the others, queasy with worry and anger at the sight of him. Murderously angry but also impotently so as the one who did this to him was already deactivated, Optimus avenged and he couldn't even help in this either. There was no reason for him to be even close to Optimus. No special qualities, no ties to the bot, not being an officer either to follow him to the med-bay and stay there as he would dearly love to. His only relief was that Ratchet kicked out every mech else too after kliks of arriving to his med-bay. Some relief. He fretted on, awaiting news.
The mood in the rec room was, if possible worse than even the previous three orns. They all knew more or less what to expect but seeing him in this condition, even with Ratchet not saying a word about him was awful. They drank high grade to forget this time, not to celebrate. They stayed together, because it was a tiny bit easier to have friends around and know that they weren't alone in their worries, pain and chaotic emotions. Smokescreen was, as their resident psychologist popular as target for their questions.
"Think he can recover from this?" – Mirage wasn't usually open about his feelings, but this time he looked… disgusted and strangely looked almost violated, like he took it upon himself what was done to the Prime. Sideswipe, on the other side of the table wondered quietly why could it be so.
"Can't say anything before I had a chance to talk to him." – Smokescreen privately wasn't optimistic. Two months was a damned long time in the situation Optimus was trapped in. If he escaped more or less sane it would be a miracle – maybe even a Matrix-helped one. Yes, he thought, if anything, the Matrix could have saved him, helped him… he hoped.
"Is he going to be able to be… to be the Prime after this?" – Mirage was determined and insistent. Cold even, not unusual for him, but still strange with his insistence in the matter.
"What do you mean?" – Sideswipe couldn't help but interrupt the spy. – "He IS the Prime still."
"Are you sure? What if the Matrix only chose to stay with him because Megatron was the only other option for it?"
"Shut yer mouth Raj. That's not for you to say." Jazz looked strangely at his subordinate. Mirage has never been the most empathic of bots, as his noble upbringing made him cold and distant to most mechs, but it was a particularly insensitive thing for him to say. And Jazz wasn't the only one glowering suddenly at the noblemech with varying degrees of distaste. He was fast destroying the respect that he managed to build with them slowly and they didn't need this crap right now.
"Maybe so." – he said, pertinacious till the end – "But I had been a priest of Primus and I tell you that after being defiled so…"
"That was enough." – Jazz almost never pulled his officer's tone in the rec room, while in a friendly discussion but he had to do it now or Mirage was going to be lynched at this rate, if he kept continuing that train of thought. Sideswipe in particular looked murderous almost and Jazz for a nanoklik wondered why. As far as he knew there wasn't any particular bad energon between the two.
Mirage stood up abruptly, an ugly scowl marring his chiseled faceplates for a klik before a cold, haughty demeanor took its usual place. He cast a disdaining look at the red warrior, one that had Sunstreaker hold his suddenly snarling twin back from attacking the spy right there and abruptly left the rec room.
::Sides, can it. He is a jerk and has always been one. What's wrong with you?::
::I'll kill him Sunny…::
Sunstreaker cast an uncertain look at his brother. Usually he was the one who had to be held back from attacking a bot who angered them, not the easygoing Sideswipe. He wasn't used to having to calm his twin down.
::Why? I mean, yeah he was pretty callous there, but what is that to you?::
::Nothing. I just… nothing.:: - Sideswipe sat back and was visibly trying to contain his fury – but Sunstreaker felt it smoldering for the rest of the orn.
Most mechs who heard the exchange just stared after Mirage or the uncharacteristically angry Sideswipe. It wasn't like the calm, aloof Mirage to speak so rashly, not to mention so insensitive. It wasn't like the easygoing Sideswipe to explode like that and the antisocial, hair-trigger tempered Sunstreaker to be the one holding him back. They were all worrying about the Prime, but… well, maybe it was the way they reacted to that pressure, Jazz supposed it was possible.
-o-o-o-
It was both better and worse being back to his med-bay, Ratchet mused. Better, because he had access to monitors and tools that he couldn't just take with him to the Nemesis and the atmosphere too was better by orders of magnitude than in that chamber of horrors. Worse, because the sharp lighting, the precise monitors and the frightful glances of First Aid told him just how damaged Optimus still was. They put him into one of the isolation rooms, locked hermetically from all Autobots, including the command element and basically started the job of fixing him all over again. Ratchet wasn't even ashamed that his hasty, often jury-rigged fixes were pulled and replaced again – it was natural with the conditions he had to work in before.
He wasn't surprised either when, after joors of extensive surgery First Aid simply took hold of him and forcibly pushed him onto the small berth that he kept in his office. The small Protectobot knew that he wouldn't go farther, but saw as well that he was working on stimulants for orns by that time and nearing to complete exhaustion. Promising to wake him before doing anything major, he turned his back on Ratchet and went back to the meticulous and time-consuming, but necessary work of reconnecting the sensor-net and replace the nodes where they were damaged – basically everywhere, but the patient, little medic didn't despair at the job before him.
He was at it four joors later still when Ratchet onlined refreshed and after refueling went back to help him. When it was finished they had the first big step that both of them were dreading; restore his senses, wake him up and see how his mind fared. They agreed and Smokescreen concurred that a hardline connection would be far too invasive and might just push him too far if misunderstood – so it had to be the outside sensors their first contact with him. Sound and vision first, his sensor-net if he could take it and try to coax a reaction out of him whether he was awake, aware and able to answer.
A tall order still. The replacement helm, like most of his outer armour, was still only on the design-pads and the table of Wheeljack and Perceptor, so Ratchet connected the new audial units by attaching them to his protoform temporarily. The optic sensors were easier, once they rebuilt the whole optic network, leading to the outer lenses. The skull-like, naked, bare appearance had both of them shudder a few times. It was hard to keep up professionalism in the light of such injuries.
"Dial the sensitivity back to 10 % at first. We will raise it slowly, seeing how he reacts."
"Smokescreen said it should be only one bot around when he wakes. I will stay in that corner until you need me." – First Aid knew that Ratchet's distinctive shape and colours were better than his presence and agreed completely with the psychologist in this matter.
Turning off the stasis unit, Ratchet waited until the monitor showed more or less healthy spark-rate and retreated a step from the berth, not wanting to crowd him and called out quietly.
"Optimus? Can you hear me? I'm Ratchet. Please signal if you can hear me. Can you blink or move a servo?"
He repeated the calling patiently for a few times, raising the sensitivity levels slowly, before a tiny movement caught his attention. It was one single digit, twitching more than signalling, he'd've said in any other case… but this wasn't any other case.
"Is that you Optimus? I can see your digit move. Can you hear me? Can you online your optics?"
The optics didn't light up with the blue shine that he was waiting for, but the same digit twitched again. He decided to take it as an answer and not as an involuntary movement, albeit he had hoped for a bit more. It wasn't a good sign, even for the first time. But at least there was one. The digit moved again, this time definitely not twitching but tapping once on the berth. It was the best little sound Ratchet heard in a long time.
-o-o-o-
In the command center the Autobot officers collected, ostensibly to discuss the outline for a peace treaty, and to take their minds off from the fate of their leader as well. Being officers, they couldn't just join the crew to smother their processors in high grade, they had to keep up the semblance of normalcy, however hard it was. They all saw Optimus's condition and had Ratchet's hurried report that physically he could be fixed maybe in decaorn or so, and they'd see it mentally only later.
"I want to contact Starscream again as soon as we can, so that we don't miss this chance for a peace." – Prowl decided that it was the best subject to take their minds off the matter of Optimus – "But I want to leave the actual peace-treaty negotiations to Optimus whenever he is able to."
"Right, he IS the Prime and we shouldn't parley without him. Especially not with Starscream." – Ironhide wasn't ready to give up his prejudices and trust the Seeker.
"Ironhide, I believe that Starscream proved himself to be on the level, benevolent even. He could have just let Optimus deactivate, pack up his army and conquer Cybertron – and we couldn't have stopped him."
"He has an ulterior motive with this too, I'm sure." – the weapons officer mumbled, earning a frustrated look from Prowl and a hesitant nod from Red Alert.
"He seems to be committed to make peace." – Jazz mused aloud. – "I must admit that I can't wait before Ratchet tells us the whole story of what happened over there."
"I concur. We need all the facts before we can decide how to proceed. But I ask you all to consider the possibility of Starscream being trusted and craft your recommendations taking that too into account. Optimus would want us to do our best if peace is a real possibility." – Prowl hoped that invoking the Prime's often stated wish, he could defuse the more stubborn of the staff, like Ironhide.
"Right…" – Ironhide slumped into his chair.
He wasn't against peace, far be it; he just saw too many betrayals and deceptions from Megatron that cost the Autobots many mechs over the vorns. Could he trust Starscream now? Prowl seemed to be convinced that the Seeker has changed and it wasn't easy to achieve that with the logical and unemotional tactician. Pit, Ratchet was convinced too and that was damn near impossible with the crafty, old medic who's seen nearly everything Decepticons could do.
The Seeker had let Ratchet onto his ship, protected him from his own army and sent Optimus back alive – and as far as they knew he had nothing to do with his condition. He also showed willingness to parley, when, as Prowl said, he could have just left and conquered Cybertron completely before they even noticed it. They were very strong arguments to his favour, Ironhide admitted to himself. Taken all into account he might have to give up the well-tried approach and find a new one. Not easy at this point of the war. Not easy for an old bot, set in his ways.
Nemesis
He had to admit, that wand that Ratchet waved at his spark truly did it some good. It twanged and throbbed far less than before, although it still felt like sometimes that it wanted to spin out of its chamber. He still didn't know what outside stimulus caused that. The physical part of him started to get better, which was fine if he could just stop the memories coming forward and causing you to cry at odd moments. He already deactivated a mech who saw his tears before he could hide or find his Trine mates. That was when Skywarp started to play a shadow at his back. In a way it was good because it made him less likely to have a complete mood-swing and turn from bad to insufferable.
Starscream knew that he was behaving far more erratically than he should have and almost as bad as Megatron at his worst. He knew that he was harming his own chances of being a good leader that he knew he could be - he just couldn't help it. His emotional state was precarious and any little thing could tip it to the other way. And he certainly had a lot on his lap with running the demoralized, rebellious and controversially dangerously bored Decepticon army. Even with Soundwave back it wasn't easy to keep them in check.
They should rework the whole command structure, he knew, but he didn't want to start it before he got an answer from Shockwave and any reaction from Hook and the broken Constructicon gestalt. Even with the war hopefully ending they needed a medic as well as the gestalt's building and designing skills. They only left because of Megatron, so Starscream hoped that with a little persuasion and cajoling they could be convinced to rejoin. If only they could find them after disappearing into space.
Shockwave… well, he never had command ambitions and Soundwave could easily keep the one-opticked scientist, who had an appearance far worse than he really was, satisfied and loyal to the cause, whoever led it. Especially as the largest part of his contingent on Cybertron was made up from Seekers, who ultimately, if a choice had to be made would have chosen Starscream, their former Winglord and Air Commander. Shockwave's drone army could never be a threat to the jets and he knew it.
"Suggestion: Hook or Onslaught." – Soundwave almost smirked at him, answering to his thoughts of choosing a new TIC who could, in time and with peace become a member of the government even. Their relationship evolved in great leaps since that shared moment of grief over the sparkling's fate and Starscream was immensely glad that the telepath chose to be on his side, despite of his complete loyalty to Megatron.
"Why not Shockwave?"
"Shockwave: scientist first. Political ambition: nonexistent."
"You know him better than me… but then why did he accept the post of Governor of Cybertron?"
"Lord Megatron: opinion not asked. Shockwave: adequate for post."
"Yeah, Megatron rarely asked if somemech wanted something or not…" – He could even sneer at that, not showing outwardly how that sentiment cut into his spark. But of course Soundwave knew. He felt that small, gentle touch in his mind again that was almost as soothing as his Trine-mates' nearness. Skywarp growled faintly behind him, feeling it as an intrusion on their bond, wings spread in a display of threat.
"Soundwave: no harm meant." – the telepath withdrew from his mind and made sure that the irate, black Seeker sensed it too. "Attention intended: friendly in nature."
"It's okay, Warp." – Starscream knew why it irked his mate but it was ridiculous really; being in the Decepticon army and fighting an eons long war apparently made them forget that mechs used to have various relationships, including friendships and that not every mech was either one's lover or an enemy. – "He is not intruding, only…only trying to help."
Skywarp backed off a bit, but it was obvious that he hasn't given up his protectiveness, only accepted their assurances on the superficial level. He'd have to have a talk with the younger Seeker, and he should include Thundercracker in it too. Maybe he believed more if the two of them told him the same. Soundwave was a useful ally, a loyal second, a hardworking subordinate, and… and apparently a friend too. It wouldn't be beneficial to have him alienated just because Skywarp was jealous, especially when it was a mistake.
He left the con to the telepath and went in search of some energon. The common room was another surprise; since Megatron's deactivation it was the first time he saw anymech sitting there. Maybe normalcy would be returning to the ship now? The Coneheads were nervous and keeping close to each other, just like the other group, but nevertheless, it was a good sign. No mech has openly challenged him for orns or tried to take advantage of his state of mind either – and now they were starting to come out of their quarters. Next step would be assigning regular shifts again, because too much free time has never meant much good in the volatile Decepticon army.
Taking his cubes from the dispenser, he made a point in sitting down with Skywarp and drank them in a companionable silence, only broken by some irrelevant, but suprirsingly natural small talk. Even with the purple and black Seeker's overprotective worry shadowing the edge of the bond and the apprehension of some still possible rebellion, Starscream realized that he was calmer than he felt in a great many vorns.
There was noone to call him an imbecile, a failure or a coward, no mech to blame him for losses not his fault, no beatings to inevitably look forward to before the orn ended… he just realized how much Megatron came down on him at every klik of the orns lately, how tense he was all the time, afraid of a blow, an insult, a humiliation and covering it up with insolence, belligerence and lashing out at everymech else.
He shuddered and arched his wing into the soothing servos of Skywarp, smiling at him, dispelling the gathering clouds of his dark memories just by being there and making him feel loved, accepted and cherished. He might've grumbled about the younger flier's insistent following and worry but it was something wonderful to bathe in his love – and not be afraid that those who saw it would use their relationship against them.
Even the Decepticons must change, he thought, the examples were there for them all to see, and not only from the Autobots. The Constructions' cohesion even in the face of Megatron's wrath, his own Trine's strength that they found together instead of being weakened by the bond. Blitzwing and Astrotrain beating Motormaster to deactivation when he attacked Octane, the triple-changers being just as close as his trine, hiding it the same way. And Starscream intended to encourage them all to show their affection for each other, because no matter if peace or war was to come it worked better that terrorizing one's subordinates and fear the superiors.
Even the Stunticons, poor little, mad things that they were would be better in a broken gestalt than under Motormaster's constant torture. At least when they got over the act itself. So far he sent as much high-grade to their quarters as he dared and locked them in; the drunken stupor being the next best thing to sedation that he, lacking a medic couldn't supply to them. In time they too would have to be handled somehow, but so far he was content to letting them to get over the shock of losing their abusive leader.
"Let's get back to TC." – he stood up abruptly, tired of making decisions any more.
"Finally. He is missing you just as you miss him." – Skywarp was more patient with him lately than Starscream would ever thought he could, but he was not above to showing it now, that they were just sitting around drinking energon. He was no leader, no sense of how a commander had to show more to his troops than just give orders and expect them to be obeyed. After all that was the example that he saw from Megatron and didn't know any better. But Starscream knew what the Autobots had that made them superior troops – caring for each other was not overrated and Skywarp too would see it soon. A few seconds in the common room and acting as they were would make rounds in the rumour mill and make many of the soldiers wonder.
But it didn't mean that he was above some cuddling in their quarters once it was done. He still felt damaged and soiled, albeit less so as time continued to overwrite his memories, but he knew that TC and Warp hurt almost as much and needed the closeness as well. It was all he could give so far - although he did try to make himself think of interfacing or merging with them… eventually. It wasn't going to be like the last time, he tried to convince himself slowly sinking into recharge, it would be good, it would be beneficial, it would be about love and not abuse…
If only he could get over the huge shadow that always stood on the periphery of his thoughts, a huge, silvery grey shape that laughed mockingly at him and held him down, thrust into him, tore into his plating, smashed his cockpit and forced his foul presence onto him… Starscream screamed and tried to free himself from the arms that held him down, clawing and whimpering and miraculously it worked this time. How…?
"Star… STAR! It is us, TC and Warp!" – the shouts penetrated the haze of fear that enveloped him and suddenly there wasn't a grey hulk pressing him down but two warm frames around him and gentle servos trying to soothe his terror and he slowly calmed down, still trembling but not fighting any more to get out of their arms.
"I'm so sorry, sorry, sorry…" – Pit damn it, he was hurting them now, he saw the energon dripping down from a blue arm, from a deep gouge that he put there.
"It's okay Star, I know it wasn't intentional…" – Thundercracker couldn't care less about the scratch, but it made Star feel even more wretched and himself helpless to dispel the fear and terror that gripped their lover. – "Shush… I know why you did it. Memories, right?"
"Y-yes…" he stuttered as he petted Thundercracker's arm, silently apologizing for the harm.
Starscream hated being weak, feared it controversially, as it was the most often heard insult thrown at him. Megatron conditioned him to never show weakness – but continuously mocked him for it anyway. Intellectually, he knew that he wasn't weak, at least no more than any Seeker on the ground; in fact he learned more ground-fighting techniques than most of his frame-kin out of necessity. But intellectual knowledge wasn't quite enough to overcome millenias of degradation as he tried to hide it and reciprocate his mates' caresses.
"No, Stars, don't hide from us… you don't have to." – Skywarp exclaimed, dismayed by Starscream pulling up the block on the bond. They hardly got him to relax it… the black Seeker seriously wished he could bring back Megatron to kill him again. Slower this time. He felt totally useless. Hovering over Starscream and growling at mechs was all he could do but he has never been good with the emotional stuff. Helplessly petting the still trembling white wings, he tried to get through the block to show him how much they loved him and it didn't matter what that slagger said, didn't matter what he did, because they'd always love him.
The problem was, they couldn't be too forceful because that would also remind him of Megatron… he understood this much, they talked it over with TC while Star was in stasis and later when the blue Seeker managed to discuss it with Ratchet. It wasn't an easy situation and he was well out of his depth. He hardly remembered the last time he played a prank… well, that might actually be a way to snap Star out of his depression, Skywarp thought, a simple, funny prank to bring back normalcy.
Their kind of normalcy, anyway. With him pranking Star and pulling the unwilling TC into it. With TC frowning at him disapprovingly and lecture him sternly on decorum. With their irate trine-leader pursuing him through the corridors for being bright, dripping pink or having squeaky toys in his joints. With all of them laughing about it in the end. Yes, that would definitely be good now.
Ark
The single twitch of a digit was followed by others and Ratchet managed to tell Optimus most of what transpired – in broad strokes obviously and still not sure how much he understood from it. He kept reassuring their leader that he was safe and it was all real and not his imagination, until he could convince him to online his new optics. That dim blue light which appeared in the lenses almost sent the old medic crying though. Five orns ago he was fairly sure that he'd never see this sight again, Optimus responding to their assurances, moving, even though it was just a few digits so far… they established a signal system of blinks and after a while it seemed that he was using it to answer, more or less consistently.
Ratchet was so satisfied with the result that he decided to go on to step two, to establish hardline connection with him, to better see how corrupted his programming was. First Aid cautioned him not to hurry the process but the older medic waved away his concerns for once. Optimus seemed to be in a condition better than he'd expected and it was a logical step. Only, it came out very-very wrong… He told Optimus at first of course, what he was going to do. He seemed not to object, albeit his signal wasn't exactly clear. But the nanoklik Ratchet connected to his reconstructed medical interface port he reacted. Strongly.
Ratchet didn't think that the barely repaired protoform could be so forceful, so desperate. But of course he was the Prime… bigger, heavier and apparently still stronger than him, even without most of his armor, fuelled by a desperate need to escape, to fight with what he thought to be Megatron. Surprised him as well, tearing out the interface cable and sweeping them both off the berth, onto the floor, with the medic trapped under his greater bulk. First Aid froze for a precious few kliks and Optimus didn't waste any time, fighting for his life as his mind portrayed it to him and started to strangle Ratchet. His optics flickered, trying to focus, but whatever he saw was obviously not in the medbay.
If not for Sideswipe, who was outside, in the med-bay proper for reasons only known to him and shooting the door from its moorings when he heard the sounds of the struggle, Optimus might have done something irreversible. But while he could momentarily overpower the surprised medic, in his weakened state he was no match for the frontliner, who saved Ratchet's life at the last klik, separating them and half carrying, half dragging the Prime back to the berth, pinning him there. By this time First Aid too shook off the shock and jumped to clamp off the main energon line spurting its bright liquid from Ratchet's neck before giving a sedative to the Prime and hurried back to fixing the small but dangerous injury up for good.
"Thank you Sideswipe, it was a timely interruption."
"What was?" – Prowl arrived to the news of shooting in the medbay and found the red twin holding down Optimus's bare, struggling protoform and his blaster still smoking on the floor. He was not one to jump into premature conclusions but it did look suspicious. Only First Aid's grateful tone to the warrior stopped him to tear him off the Prime's inert and still somewhat damaged frame.
"Uhh… I just… I heard some struggling in here and Optimus was trying to strangle Ratchet, so I just had to do something…" – Sideswipe knew how it must have looked to the SIC and he was in a hurry to explain it all before he lost his composure. He was in no hurry to move away from the Prime though.
"Ratchet attempted a hardline connection to Optimus Prime and…" – the small Protectobot paused, sighing – "… he didn't react well. It happened very quickly."
"I see. In that case, thank you Sideswipe for the interference."
"I'm mightily glad that you were around." – Ratchet interjected weakly from the floor, not particularly wanting to get up just yet. "I didn't expect the Prime react so strongly. It was my mistake."
"How is he?" – surprisingly it was Sideswipe who asked, still standing by the berth, one servo still lightly on Prime's bare shoulder. Optimus gave a shudder and his servo moved again, like he was fighting off the effects of the sedative already - but interestingly, he didn't try to move away from the red frontliner's touch.
"Umm, it was just a small dose that I had on me." – First Aid mumbled, stepping over the medical cabinet for another sedative. – "He is getting better otherwise. Physically I mean."
"Optimus? Can you see me? You are among friends. You are safe. No need to fight." – Sideswipe's voice was a complete surprise to all present, who looked at him suddenly with surprised optics. The normally cocky, brazen tone was much lower and smoother than usual, its velvet quality conveying safety and calm by itself. Prowl lifted an orbital ridge at the sound, as he never thought that Sideswipe was at all capable of speaking in such a manner. But it seemed to work as Optimus's slight squirming ceased and he even turned his helmless head towards the soothing voice.
::Keep it up!:: -Ratchet commed to Sideswipe urgently - ::Your voice has more effect on him than mine had::
The red twin threw him an uncertain look but continued to speak to Optimus in the same velvety voice. - "You are on the Ark now, in the med-bay. You are safe. We have you back. You are being repaired."
Optimus seemed to calm down completely and Ratchet quietly picked himself up from the floor, drawing the others too away from the berth. His small wound was already healed from First Aid's quick repair and while originally it was life-threatening, once fixed, it caused him no problem whatsoever. He watched Sideswipe calming down Optimus with an interest – never knew he had it in him. After a few kliks he even onlined his optics again, the blue light still flickering, obviously trying to focus and recalibrate after so long in the darkness.
His bare metal digits clamped onto the red twin's black ones, like clutching to a lifeline. Sideswipe continued to tell him reassurances, keeping his mind with them, not letting it fall back to the nightmares. Ratchet noticed that his optics seemed to focus on him more than to any of them - it must have been that flamboyant shade of red, he guessed, certainly one that no Decepticon sported and was easy to detect even with his hardly working optics. He hardly cared about the reason at this point, he was only glad that one of them, anyone really, had this calming effect on him. They could hardly keep him sedated all the time, recovery had to start somewhere while conscious and awake.
"How did you learn to speak in such a tone? – Ratchet was taking a break with Sideswipe, while Fist Aid kept working on Optimus, now in stasis again. He made tremendous progress in the last joor and it was in no small part thanks to Sideswipe's presence; a totally unexpected, but welcomed influence that Ratchet didn't hesitate to use. He simply told Prowl that the red twin was needed in med bay, therefore pulled from any other duties. He didn't object to it, in fact he looked glad to be able to remain near Optimus, something surprising in itself from the prankster.
"You know our past, right?" – the red warrior was tense, never liking to tell about themselves to anyone. But Ratchet was different…
"The gladiator ring, yes."
"We started there while still younglings. And they've gone to extreme lengths to break Sunny, to make him be obedient. I had to comfort him often after sessions. I found that the tone was more important than what I said."
"I see…" – he knew the twins' past but in general terms only – and details like this that sometimes came up made him sick. Mainly because they didn't happen in a war, they've been done in peace, while other Autobots lived their mostly comfortable lives. It made him wonder how mechs could contemn them for being what they are, without getting to know them more. True, they didn't make it easy to get to know; not with Sunstreaker's aggression and Sideswipe's pranks. His superficially easygoing, flippant nature, so opposite of his twin's antisocial and violent one hid the same insecurities. – "It was good that you remembered it when needed. That was a very precarious situation."
"I… I just saw him there and… it came automatically."
If Sideswipe was a human his face would be red, Ratchet mused… but why? Was he embarrassed by what he did?
"I hope you don't mind doing it still…? I mean we won't tell it to anyone and Optimus probably won't remember much of what transpired when he recovers."
"N-no, I don't mind doing it… for Optimus, no matter if he remembers or not." – but Sideswipe avoided Ratchet's glance and stared at his servos instead, on his lap.
"What is it then…? You don't seem comfortable."
"N-nothing." – he actually squirmed and Ratchet was sure that something was amiss. – "It is… nothing."
Ratchet was sure he hid something, but the time wasn't right to pry and he was too tired to do it anyway. There was still so much to do, before they could relax even a bit with Optimus stable.
"Ratchet… go and have a recharge in your quarters. Or in ours. You haven't been with Sunny for too long." – The three of them have interfaced informally for long by this time, Ratchet loving them both equally, but slowly Sideswipe realized that although he loved Ratchet too, it was different for him than for Sunny. His twin showed no tender emotions outwardly but inside he loved Ratchet deeply and it was certainly reciprocated by the medic. He, on the other servo… he was with them physically and even cared for them, but in time he realized that it wasn't a romantic affection on his part.
In fact it was mainly because of his reluctance that they haven't bonded yet; pleading insecurity, claiming that it wasn't the right thing to do during the war, but he never told them how he really felt. How does one confesses something like this to one's split-spark twin and one's lover, that he didn't love them quite that way? That he couldn't imagine being mates with the two of them, even though being lovers was fine? That - and he hid this even from Sunstreaker – he had a secret that he never told to anyone because it was a dream only, unlikely, improper and flat out impossible?
-o-o-o-
It was a busy decaorn, Prowl thought since they got Optimus Prime back and started to cautiously get to know the Decepticons. They quickly agreed with Starscream that a peace treaty shouldn't be hurried and that the cease-fire was perfectly fine with all of them – including the humans after some shouting and grumbling on their part and much diplomacy from the Autobots' quarter. Prowl couldn't blame them, as it has always been the humans and their cities and structures that suffered the most in the Decepticon raids and attacks. But after a while they came to realize that peace and some cooperation from the Decepticons worth far more than any retribution or trial for the individual Cons.
Starscream agreed that in reparation he would share some technical advances with the humans and he kept his word – much to the surprise of the still suspicious humans, who of course knew nothing about the real reasons for his ascension to power and the sudden turn in attitude. Not that Starscream intended to ever enlighten them; although the Seeker looked better in time, but Prowl could still pick up signs of deep distress from time to time. Considering what Ratchet told them about what'd transpired, he wasn't surprised. Starscream was just extremely good at hiding his emotions from anyone and any mech.
The acting commander knew that many Autobot who had some connections with humans, formal or informal, told them that the Seeker was to be trusted, and some of them even hinted to them the reason why it was so. It also went for his Trine but the rest of the Cons weren't that easy matter. They never made any move towards the humans and very little towards the Autobots either and Prowl knew that Starscream and Soundwave had ever increasing problems with their mechs who were used to fighting all the time and not much else.
The solution, or rather a beginning of a solution came from the recently arrived Blurr, who simply couldn't abide to the human speed limits. Not that many of the Ark's crew could, but at least they tried. Occasionally, Prowl scowled. But Blurr simply couldn't. The elaborate and complex racetrack that they built in the desert - that by this time belonged to the Autobots legally, therefore it was exempt from the often bothersome human laws - quickly became an instant hit among the Autobots who were just as bored as their Decepticon counterparts and cut down on the speeding tickets. It also took their minds off from the still uncertain fate of Optimus Prime.
The first Decepticons who turned up at the track and posturing mock-aggressively, but with a façade of forced politeness asked if they could enter were predictably the Stunticons, minus Motormaster. Jazz, in charge of the track was glad for that particular omission. He quickly got to know the reason for it too, while he briefed the impatient racecars on the track rules – he got the hint that Starscream had drilled them before coming on the rules of conduct towards the Autobots. The session went surprisingly smoothly, with only a minimal amount of the expected arguments and no shooting at all; the mechs present all had the common sense of avoiding the dangerous issues and stick to technology, technique and general racing issues.
After that the Cons became a usual sight at the track and though Jazz had always been careful to have extra muscle around when they came, there weren't any big brawls developing. Smaller skirmishes, they had of course, but with strictly offline weapons they never grew to dangerous proportions. The track naturally had a medic-in-training or someone trained in first aid in attendance all the time and they pounded out the dents from collisions as well as some flying blows that by unspoken agreement were rarely ever reported to either command. It was, as one of the humans quipped the Cybertronian equivalent of barroom-brawls. Messy, but resolving some of the smaller issues they had with each other in a way that no fancy negotiations could.
-o-o-o-
After the disastrous result of the first time, Ratchet decided to avoid the hardline connection, even with Sideswipe having such a good effect on their leader. He admitted that the method's invasive nature outweighed its effectiveness in communication as well as the instant evaluation of Optimus's mental health. Unspoken was the sentiment that Megatron probably tortured him this way too for the reaction to be this strong. They had to do it in a harder way, by reconstructing his voice box and try to make him speak, talk to them. His armour was mostly reworked by this time and with it on including the brand new helm, he looked far better than for a long time. Almost normal, if they discounted the still hesitant, fearful movements and that he apparently failed to recognize any of them, except Sideswipe.
None of them expected him to answer straight away when he was brought out of stasis. It would have been a miracle and Ratchet learned a long time ago that miracles were rare and never came when you prayed for one. They had an argument as to who should talk with him when he awakened; Smokescreen and Prowl insisted that Sideswipe wasn't a trained psychologist and despite of his fortunate ability to calm the Prime down, he was not the one who should communicate with him now, that they hoped for him to be more responsive, sane and able to answer.
And so it was Smokescreen who told Optimus first that he could speak, answer if he wanted to. Only… he didn't. Not for him anyway, only growing more and more agitated at the unfamiliar voice and shape who leaned over him. Ratchet started to fear another disaster, as Optimus with the armour on and more or less fixed completely was definitely stronger than any of them and certainly able to overpower Smokescreen should he choose to do so. To the psychologist's credit he noticed it too and stopped, stepping back a bit to give him space.
"I still think it should be Sideswipe." – Ratchet noted, despite of the disapproving looks from Prowl. The tactician, not even comfortable with the red warrior's role even at the beginning, has grown even more reproving as matters progressed. He expressed his opinion that this way Optimus would just grow even more dependent on Sideswipe and remain mistrustful of anyone else. Which was kind of true, Ratchet admitted, but he also knew how precarious Optimus's mental state must be and he didn't really gave a damn to what worked and who managed to do it - only that it did. Prowl could worry about decorum all he wanted but Optimus needed emotional security and if it was Sideswipe able to give it to him for whatever reasons, then that was the way it was going to be.
"I concur." – First Aid only ever disagreed with another officer in medical matters, but in the med-bay, he always acted with the patients' well-being in mind and no tact or politeness. – "Later we can all try to speak with them but so far he seems to react best to Sideswipe."
"Very well." – Smokescreen wasn't happy either, but he couldn't deny what they all saw. His demeanor, professional as he was had less effect on Optimus as the frontliner's uneducated but natural charm.
"Optimus?" – Sideswipe was secretly glad for being back at Optimus's side and to see him calming down. – "It is me, Sideswipe and you are safe in the Ark. Can you answer? Your vocalizer is fixed now, can you confirm it?"
Optimus was propped up onto a half-sitting position at that point, the berth's upper half supporting his back. He turned his helm towards them, but the still unfocused optics with their flickering light, sometimes whitening-out, sometimes darkening to almost black were pretty disconcerting. Even after a few orns he couldn't fully recalibrate them and it was anyone's guess what he truly saw. Not that the optics had anything wrong with them; Ratchet checked and rechecked them a number of times, but they were physically perfect. The problem was likely with his visual processing units which, lacking a hardline medical connection they could only guess how were working.
He didn't answer at first, but he did turn to look at Sideswipe, apparently trying to focus even more at him. The red warrior kept talking to him, asking to react, pausing frequently to give him opportunity to interject anything he wanted to. He kept at it for breems and the others' attention started to wonder, Smokescreen arguing with Ratchet through the comm about the whole idea, questioning again Sideswipe's capability in the role of a counselor when finally a deep, whispering, staticky voice cut through the air like a rusted knife.
'Ark…?" – Optimus looked at Sideswipe still, his rusted, creaking voice faint, hardly audible over the small sounds of machinery in the med-bay.
"Yes, Optimus, you are in the Ark!" – Sideswipe's voice remained in the same, soothing tone as before but acquired a distinctly victorious edge – "You are safe. Can you see… can you recognize us?"
He understood the question and turned to look at them, the blue light stronger than before and more stable in the optic lenses.
"See… yes… not well."
"No problem, Optimus. It will get better."
"S-sideswipe?" – he seemed surprised and Sideswipe could well understand it; in normal circumstances he'd have no place in the med-bay with a recovering patient or around the Prime for that matter.
"Yes, it's me. But Ratchet is here too, and First Aid, Prowl and Smokescreen too. You can speak with them if you wish." – Sideswipe hid the disappointment from his tone.
"Stay." – the digits clamped onto the red twin's black ones in a sudden, frightened motion. It was almost sparkbreaking to watch.
"Okay. I'm not going anywhere. Don't worry. You are safe now."
"Optimus?" – Ratchet thought it was time to cautiously approach him too – "How do you feel?"
"R-ratchet… I… don't know." – he looked almost lost – "Is it… true…? I'm… on the Ark?"
"Yes, Optimus, you are safe, on the Ark and whatever you remember is just a memory now."
"It is… over..."
"Yes, Optimus it is over. Megatron is dead. You are safe now."
Maybe it was too soon to mention Megatron's designation, Smokescreen thought as he observed him to flinch strongly and hold onto Sideswipe's servo with a strength that reminded them to his old self. He also saw the red twin hiss slightly as his digits were slightly crushed in his strong grasp, but to the frontliner's credit he didn't move them away, nor did he voice his discomfort aloud.
"Optimus… welcome back. We missed you." – Prowl's clear voice cut through the darkening mood. – "Everyone on the Ark."
"Good to… be back" – he still spoke hardly even whispering, haltingly, like he had to think of every glyph separately but the staticky quality of his voice has improved with every word. His vision too must have cleared up because Ratchet could observe him carrying his glance around, stopping with each mechs for a few kliks, obviously recognizing them at last. -"How… long…?"
"Too long…" – none of them wanted to enumerate the exact length of time – "We thought you to be deactivated."
"prayed to be… many times..."
"But it is over now. You are repaired fully and no sign remained of what was done to you."
"'xcept… the memories."
"They will pass too. In time." – Ratchet hoped at least. What happened was not an easy thing to forget, even for such a strong individual as Optimus, aided by the Matrix. He had said a few times that the artifact had a stabilizing effect on him and he certainly needed it now.
"How… who… found me?"
"Starscream killed Megatron and called us for a medic. We have a truce now."
"Good…" – For a klik they saw a flash in the so far dim blue optics, a slight hitch in the voice… anger, fury or satisfaction, they couldn't know. But it was good to see it. It meant life and will that could carry him through the despair and depression. – "'m I… imagining… is it… true?"
"Yes, it is true. We are real. The med-bay is real. You are safe." – Sideswipe easily understood the confusion. It must have been hard to separate his memories from what he could still hardly see and accept them as real and not his wishful thinking.
"Good… is over then… tired… so tired…"
"Yes, it was quite enough conversation for the first time. You still have to recharge and let your self-healing do some work."
"No… recharge is… no! dark… dreams hurt… No!" – he looked almost panicky before Ratchet assured him hurriedly.
"I will put a dream suppressant into your energon."
"Dark… not the dark…" – he held onto Sideswipe's servo still.
"I'll stay here, Optimus. One of us will be here all the time and the lights will remain on." – First Aid added in his calm voice. It worked, just as the complex cocktail that Ratchet poured into the IV line; dream suppressant, sedative and necessary trace-elements for his own healing nanites together made him sleepy and soon falling into a light recharge, uninterrupted by dreams. For the first time in months they felt relieved and hopeful. It was time to share some good news with the crew as well, Prowl thought, while First Aid held back Sideswipe for a bit.
"Let me see to that servo."
Note: I originally intended chapter 1. as a oneshot, but due to people encouraging me to continue the story, I did so. I'm not sure how far the idea can take me, but I have an outline for at least for two more chapters now.
