Chapter Two
Plenoptic
Disclaimer: Funny, I've been forgetting to add these. Do we really need to? Well, anyway. I don't own Transformers or any related titles or subjects…all that's mine in here is the plotline, and even that's had some help. It all belongs to Dreamwave and Hasbro and what not…anyway.
Aw, an Optimus with nightmares…doesn't it just break the heart?
I realize Magnus is more associated with being Optimus's big brother, but for the sake of this fic his attention has been diverted elsewhere. And I kind of like the idea. Please enjoy, please review, in that order.
. B E G I N . T R A N S M I S S I O N .
Ultra Magnus shifted the sleeping sparkling in his lap, his fingers stroking the tiny creature's head lightly. Megatron stirred but did not wake. He'd been up late, pestering Magnus with questions about the mysterious mech he and his brother had discovered deep beneath headquarters. And Magnus had been up late relentlessly not answering. He was sure if he told the sparkling the information would reach his brother the very next day, and Optimus wasn't to know about Alpha Trion.
Not yet.
The door opened, and Magnus looked up to see Sentinel Prime enter, his face crossed with fading anger.
"Sir…sorry, I'd stand, but…" he indicated the sleeping child, and Prime smiled faintly.
"You didn't tell him?"
"No, sir."
"Good," Sentinel sighed, taking a seat across from Magnus's desk. "Primus help me…how did Optimus manage to wake him from terminal lock? It makes no sense…no sense at all…"
"You haven't told me why Trion's down there to begin with, sir," Magnus said quietly, his optic ridges raised. "Is there a story?"
Sentinel groaned. "Yes, Magnus, a long one. I promise I will divulge it to you sometime, but…now is not the time. There are some secrets better sat on. But…" his face darkened, his optics stormy.
"It's got something to do with Optimus, hasn't it?" Magnus asked, his voice tense. He was quite fond of the youngling; it was rare to see that much energy, that much hope, in anyone nowadays.
"Trion's the reason Optimus is ill," Sentinel said, his voice low and his voice slightly murderous. "He's the reason his systems are so unstable, why his development is so slow…and I can't forgive him for that."
Magnus nodded wordlessly; he was well aware of Optimus's precautious condition. It was a constant fear amongst his caretakers that they were going to walk into the room one day to find the youngling dead upon his recharge bed. The very thought of it sent shivers down Magnus's spinal ganglions; the pain of seeing that lifeless little body would be devastating. As far as he knew, Optimus was one of the first sparklings created without the Spark of a femme…and if he wasn't, his mother was long dead. The chipper youngling had never seemed bothered by it; he had Ironhide and Ratchet and occasionally he had Sentinel, though his "father" was often away beating down the rebels. In spite of his absence Optimus loved Sentinel deeply—the commander was the only father he'd ever known, the only father he would ever know.
The feelings were not one sided. Upon returning from his missions the first thing the giant mech ever did was rush upstairs and sweep the youngling into his massive arms. There was so much life in that frail little body, so much hope in those bright optics… just looking at his child made Sentinel's Spark clench. It was a wonder he'd ever gotten by before Optimus had come along; looking back on it his life seemed dark and bleak without the youngling to brighten his horizons.
Yes, the youngling was precious. He was something beautiful, something to be protected and treasured, and the powerful commander did a very good job of both.
"I'll take him upstairs," Sentinel offered, opening his arms. Magnus stood carefully and slipped Megatron into the commander's secure embrace; the sparkling stirred and whimpered but still did not wake, quickly finding the warmth of Sentinel's Spark.
"They're so different," Sentinel murmured, snuggling the child into his huge chassis. "Hard to believe they're of the same Spark."
"Indeed."
"…Did you know there was another?"
"Sir?"
"Alpha Trion created another," Sentinel said soflty, his optics flashing as the name rolled off his lips. "A femme. She's not Optimus and Megatron's sibling, don't worry… she's from another Spark. He called her Elita, I believe…I've yet to track her down." He sighed heavily, closing off his optics. "I gleaned something from my interrogation of Trion last night. He admitted to making Optimus and Elita's Sparks compatible."
Magnus stared, his jaw open. "Y-You mean to say…Optimus has himself a sparkmate out there somewhere?"
"Somewhere," Sentinel murmured, stroking Megatron's soft faceplates. "Somewhere…she's younger than him, probably still a sparkling. Primus, who knows where she's at? After her creation, Trion…" his face darkened, and he shook his head. "No. That's a whole different story…right now I need to get this little one up to bed. Good night, Magnus."
"…Good night, sir."
Rec Room
Optimus stared numbly at the projector screen, the images flashing across his optics as they drifted on and offline. Ironhide smiled and held the youngling close, pressing his lips to his protégé's head. "Close yer optics, Optimus. Ah'll take ya upstairs if ya fall asleep."
"I'm not tired…" Optimus mumbled, and drifted into recharge. Ironhide chuckled and rocked the youngling, his voice murmuring soothing words into the child's audio receptors. Optimus's body relaxed as he fell into his deeper recharge cycle; he was exhausted.
"Hard to believe something that innocent is gonna be blasting heads off someday," Ratchet said quietly, his optics warm with affection as he watched the sleeping youngling.
"He won', if Ah can help it," Ironhide growled almost savagely. "Not Optimus. Jus' because he's growin' up on base doesn' make him ah soldier. Th' boy's got ah good head on 'is shouldahs…he should be ah scientist or somethin'…"
"But he's programmed to fight, Ironhide," Ratchet said soflty, but the image of it made his shudder. Those gentle lips, usually lifted in a smile, drawn into an angry snarl…the sensitive optics hard and cold…the fragile body riddled with battle scars… the cheerful voice, so commonly echoing giggles and nonsensical chatter, warped into a cry of pain… the warm, bubbly Spark trapped beneath layers and layers of ice…Ratchet wrapped his arms around his abdomen, suddenly feeling very sick. "Ironhide…can I hold him?"
The weapons officer nodded wordlessly, moving over on the couch to slip the youngling into the medic's waiting arms. Ratchet shifted Optimus against his chest; the would-be soldier mumbled something and grimaced, his fingers fluttering over Ratchet's breastplates.
"Have his nightmares gotten any less frequent?" Ratchet asked quietly, stroking Optimus's face to calm him.
"Somewhat," Ironhide replied, reaching out and slipping his hand into Optimus's; tiny fingers closed over one of his large ones. "Th' poor lil' guy. Ratch, wha're we gonna do when he's all grown? Ah'm not gonna be able ta call 'im 'sir'…"
Ratchet shook his head wordlessly. It really was going to be hard, taking orders from the very mech he now cradled in his arms. Optimus was going to grow, that much was unchangeable. But that didn't mean the medic wanted him to. Optimus was going to grow, and he was going to become a killer. Ratchet shuddered. Oh, no. No. Not his youngling…not Optimus…
Primus have mercy, not Optimus.
The youngling's optics flew online, a scream escaped his lips. There was no restraint; the terror was there, wild on his face, rampant in his voice. Ratchet and Ironhide both jumped badly, and every mech in the recreation room turned, alerted to the little one as the youngling thrashed wildly in Ratchet's arms, sobbing. The medic handed him quickly off to Ironhide, who proceeded to attempt to calm the flailing little mech.
But Optimus was beyond comfort. This was terror. This was sheer, choking fear, the kind that clenched one's Spark as if in fingers sheathed in ice. Optimus's hysteric cries tore Ironhide apart; with a soft moan he pulled the youngling close, rocking the child in his massive arms.
"Nooooo….Nooooo! He's coming!" Optimus sobbed wildly, though his thrashings had ceased somewhat. "Don't let him—no—he's coming—he's gonna kill me!"
Ironhide and Ratchet looked at each other, dumbstruck. Optimus's sobs quieted to whimpers, his small fingers scrabbling on Ironhide's chest.
"He'll kill me," the youngling whispered, bright blue fluid leaking from his optics as he pressed desperately against his guardian's chassis. "He'll kill me…he'll kill me…"
The nightmares didn't stop. For the next week exactly, Ironhide was forced out of his recharge cycle every night to rush up and comfort the hysteric youngling. And every night it was the same mantra… "He'll kill me, he'll kill me…"
It was awful. It was Pit-slagging, Primus-forsaken awful. Optimus's pitiful cries echoed throughout headquarters' many hallways, tore at the many Sparks. But none more so than at Ironhide's. After the week had passed the youngling refused to recharge. He lay awake long hours into the night, wrapped in his guardian's arms, trembling at every little sound, crying out at every movement in the dark.
"No one's here," Ironhide whispered one evening, as Optimus collapsed into weak sobs once more. "Optimus, listen ta me. Ah won' let anyone at ya, ya here? No one's gonna hurt ya, Ah promise…"
"When I get bigger," Optimus whispered, his small fists clenching on Ironhide's abdomen. "When I get bigger…he's gonna kill me."
Ironhide shook his head, rocking the youngling in his arms. "No, no, no…when ya get bigger Ah'm still gonna be righ' here. Ah'm gonna be here, Optimus…"
"…Promise?"
"Ah promise," Ironhide whispered. He didn't care. Optimus could get as big as he wanted. If he was scared, Ironhide was gonna hold him all the same.
"…Ironhide."
"Yea?"
"Someday, I'm gonna be taller than you," Optimus whispered, and fell asleep.
Optimus's Quarters
"Hey."
"What is it?"
"…How long?"
Optimus turned his head, frowning slightly. "How long what?"
Megatron shifted on the recharge bed. Upon hearing his brother's wails the previous night he'd hurried upstairs and clambered in, allowing Optimus to use him as a security blanket for the long hours of darkness that still remained. It had worked; with his brother snuggled against his side, Optimus had fallen once more into deep recharge.
"How long are we gonna be together?"
Optimus blinked and rolled over so he faced his brother fully. "We're brothers," he said firmly, his optics confident. "We'll stick together."
"But how long?" Megatron pressed, urgency in his voice.
"Forever," Optimus whispered, clutching his brother's hand. "Let's stay together forever."
"You promise?"
"I swear."
"Me too." Megatron's optics went offline, reassured by his brother's words. With a sigh Optimus snuggled closer, the younger mech's Spark quiet and reassuring. He allowed his optics to go offline.
Last night had involved one dream. And one nightmare. He pulled his thoughts away from the latter, focusing on the former. It hadn't been so bad. Not bad at all. He'd seen a femme. He couldn't remember her face exactly, what she had looked like, but the mere thought of her made his Spark pound in a rather pleasing way. She'd smiled at him; not the way Ironhide or Megatron smiled at him. A different smile. She didn't see him like his friends did; somehow, in this dream, she saw him differently. She'd taken his hand, but not the way Megatron did. She didn't want to hold his hand for comfort. She'd just wanted to hold his hand.
And she'd said his name. He'd always been sort of proud of it; it was a really, really good name. But it had sounded extra special coming from the femme; coupled with that smile, with the warmth of her touch, it made his faceplates redden.
Not a bad dream at all…
. E N D . T R A N S M I S S I O N .
This chapter was shorter than the other, I know, by like a lot. But just bear with me, I'm very wrapped up in New Beginnings and am desperately trying to finish it satisfactorily so I can finish THIS one and move on to bigger things...(evil laugh)