Quits

Chapter Four

Silence dragged out, Optimus unwilling to speak further and Ratchet patiently waiting for him to do so anyway. He did not waste the time, though, moving back to the arch curving over the mech's shattered pelvis to continue the small-scale calibrations of the parts he'd already repaired and replaced.

Optimus lowered his hand from where it had brushed across his jaw, fingers rattling. Even with the pain suppressants clogging up his neural lines he could feel that there was a lot amiss in that area, but then he'd expected as much. At least the white hot agony was gone, replaced with a dull ache that spiked rhythmically from the vibration of a coolant pump. He felt strangely hollow, and peripherally he noted the area of small dented and sheared parts lined along the berth. "How bad?"

Ratchet's optics flickered to him, fingers pausing over the controls. "It wouldn't have been so bad if so many of your lines hadn't ruptured. You dried out, Optimus, and slagging ground up everything that was already damaged. That… thing that Megatron used went in deep. You were lucky you could walk."

"No choice. Had to get back." Shadows flickered across his optics, a visual ghost from his processor echoing something that he never wanted to look over again. Optimus shuttered them, temporarily dispelling the image. Ratchet clicked softly at him, drawing him back out. "How much have you left to do?"

"Physically?" Ratchet grunted with a raised brow, though his expression softened into a more solemn arrangement of plates. "A few servos need to be completely replaced, and your transformation lines and cogs have all had to be removed. I've completed repairs on your critical systems, though, and replaced your interface unit. You'll be taking it easy for a few weeks but I can discharge you tomorrow afternoon."

"Thank you," Optimus replied softly, finding that his overactive processor was making quick work of tallying everything Ratchet had said against the memory burned into his chips. It was going to take some time to suppress that, he accepted with a sigh, but it would be a lot easier when it wasn't being talked about anymore. Considering the medic again, he decided that convincing him to just forget about the whole incident wasn't going to happen very quickly.

The sound of the door seals hissing apart cut off his thoughts as Ironhide arrived within minutes of Ratchet's summons. Upon seeing him, the medic roughly collected his equipment and moved about the bay to put the instruments back in their rightful places. The dark mech gave him a slight nod of gratitude as they crossed paths, and then Ironhide was standing over Optimus on the berth and the sphere of his attention shrank dramatically.

Optimus shifted fractionally, optics narrowing. :Don't look at me like that. I'm fine.:

The dark mech snorted. :Yeah right. Try that with someone you're not bonded to.: He slipped his undamaged hand about a wrist guard, which turned out to be the 'wrong' one from this angle.

Optimus shifted to see what his sparkmate was hiding, brow twitching fractionally. :I hope that's not from a Decepticon.:

:I wish: came the soft reply, weariness and overwhelming relief in seeing the mech awake and coherent overshadowing his frustration. He'd only made a rudimentary repair on his hand and it still throbbed, but it was the furthest thing from his mind. :How're you feeling?:

:Sore: Optimus replied after a moment's consideration. His optics flickered, head shifting to regard the medic standing away from them but doubtless listening intently. :But not as bad as Ratchet is acting. Another day under his ministrations and I'll be fine.:

Ironhide arched a brow, vents cycling with a rattle. :I don't reckon it's the physical that's got him worried. Pit, it's not what I'm worrying about.:

A buzz down the bond, the only indicator of his feelings as his body remained still, though Ironhide didn't even need that to know what the mech was feeling. :'Hide, I got hurt, no worse than you or I have been many times already during this war. After the Fallen I've seen any fight that I didn't die during as a good one.: There was a hollow ring to the words where humour should have been.

:There's gettin' your chassis split open and then there's…: A pained glance down to where the arch hummed over the mech's body. :This. This is beyond anything you should have endured. It weren't an act of war that he did to you. This wasn't fighting. This was personal, Optimus, and I don't.: Ironhide grimaced again, finger's tightening about the hand they encased. He had to force the rest from his reluctant processor. :I don't think you can see that yet.:

Optimus's optics brightened, plates shifting a little behind the facemask. Ironhide mused how this was the first time since they'd shifted from friendship into a relationship that he'd kept the barrier in place when it was just the two of them speaking. The significance of it was not lost on him, but he declined to comment. Anything Optimus may have formulated by way of a response to the soft, concerned accusation was cut off by the door opening again.

Ironhide kept his hand with Optimus's as he turned to face the door, suppressing a groan to see it was Prowl. "Ratch," he started in a drawl, turning narrowed optics on the medic.

Ratchet shot him an irritated look. "I called for him to come down later. It was Prime who summoned him down now."

"I can come back at a better time," Prowl offered, though everything about his stance and the way his optics roved over the commander's prone form indicated his great reluctance to.

"It's fine, Prowl. Come in." Optimus shifted and Ironhide wordlessly moved to stand on the other side of him, retaking his hand once he had an unobstructed view of the approaching mech. "As you've no doubt heard, the war with the Decepticons is over."

Prowl nodded, plates knitting together with a frown when he came to stand opposite Ironhide over the berth. The arch obscured his view of where he suspected the damage keeping Prime in here to be, and he found the presence of the unfamiliar equipment disconcerting. "Yes, Ironhide told me, though he declined to give me the details of how this auspicious event came about. Only that you were confined to the Medbay and medically relieved of duty."

"Yes," Optimus confirmed with a low sound, gaze shifting to Ratchet. The medic had moved to stand by the arch, fingers touching lightly over its surface as he made adjustments to the fields. Mercifully, Optimus found that he couldn't feel any effects from the tampering, and returned his attention to Prowl. "Megatron had elected to settle the conflict privately between us, and I agreed to what he wanted in exchange for an end to hostilities."

Ironhide's canons twitching didn't escape Prowl's attention, though he only registered the agitated fidget peripherally. "And what did he want?"

Optimus's optics flickered, processor jerking to find an answer to the direct question. The silence that unintentionally grew only made the sensation swirling in his near-empty tanks worse. Ironhide's fingers tightened about his. "A personal victory," he replied at last, the words obviously measured.

Ironhide scoffed and Ratchet growled under his vents, drawing a deeper frown from the tactician. "What in Primus does that mean? He tortured you?"

"Definitely," Ratchet murmured, hands still shifting over the arch with quiet clicks.

"It doesn't matter what he wanted, only that it was given and the fighting has stopped," Optimus snapped, surprising all three mechs. Optics narrowed, he fixed Prowl with a stare that left no room for disagreement. "I will inform the human government as liaison tomorrow as soon as Ratchet has released me from the Medbay. Whilst his order for me to remain off-duty is in effect, you are to monitor the Decepticon forces' neutralisation and ascertain what their wishes for the future are from this point. Understood?"

"Yes Sir," Prowl replied with a curt nod, waiting until Optimus's gaze shifted to Ironhide before looking to the medic. To the unspoken questions, Ratchet's mouth twisted and his hands flicked out helplessly. Prowl motioned with his head for them to move away from the berth, padding a little distance away. The low mingled sound of their voices was dominated by the tactician, Ratchet's responses coming more hesitantly.

Ironhide was as ignorant of the exchange as his sparkmate was, curiosity finally getting the better of him. Through their bond and the contact of their hands, he ran a weak scan and grunted an exhale at the results. :Ratchet's got a lot left to do.:

:It's rude to pry,: Optimus chided softly, bringing his free hand up to rub at his optics. :At least that went better than I'd hoped."

:Don't count on Prowler giving up that easy,: Ironhide warned. :He'll dig until he gets his answers.:

:Which will not happen quickly: Optimus replied, fingers still over his optics. Though the searing pain pulsing through his abdomen was severe, the residual tingle around his spark chamber was a colder sensation dominating his thoughts. Megatron's fingers about his spark, sliding into the intimacies of his soul, one hand pinning his above his head whilst his body shifted, sawing. A rattle of metal against his face caused him to realise that his hand was shaking. He clenched it into a fist and rested it on his grill, looking up to Ironhide's concerned optics again.

Before he could say anything, a sharp series of clicks from Ratchet drew his attention back to Prowl. Apparently the tactician had acquired all the information that Ratchet was going to give him, and now Prowl approached the berth again. Rather than speaking to Optimus, he looked to Ironhide. "For the next week I'll want all assigned guardians to remain with their charges in case of a backlash from those within the Decepticon faction whom may not accept the peace order."

Ironhide nodded with the curt acceptance of a soldier. "I'll inform Lennox when I escort him to his domicile."

"Good." Prowl looked down to Optimus, mouth a set line. "Prime, it would be preferable if you could manage communications with Earth's governments. You have been the primary Autobot contact for them, and know the subtleties of their processes."

"And the specifics of our future will need to be discussed with them after speaking with the Autobots," Optimus added smoothly. "With the war over and Earth no longer under threat, the conditions of our sanctuary have dissolved. If we wish to remain on this planet, if only for a few decades to ensure the peace, arrangements will have to be negotiated."

"Agreed." Prowl's head cocked, mouth quirking with the ghost of a smile. "Would you like the honour of telling them?"

Optimus smiled a little. "Thank you, Prowl, but they deserve to know as soon as possible. Certainly the celebrations will begin immediately."

"No doubt." A glance to Ratchet as if to see if the medic had changed his mind as to how much to disclose. Frosty optics met his gaze, a brow twitching up in warning, and Prowl straightened. "I'll inform Bumblebee of the renewal of his active guardianship and up patrols for the next forty-eight hours. Protocol dictates that there will be a further meeting to negotiate territories and defensive armaments between the previously warring factions, so we should remain vigilant for the Decepticon representative."

Ironhide sensed more than saw his sparkmate's mounting weariness, answering on his behalf. "Sounds good, Prowler. We'll leave the Doc to his work and get started on all that."

"I'll contact you when I release Prime," Ratchet announced to both, moving to stand almost possessively at the head of the berth. To further underline his point, he tapped the teardrop probe from his wrist into the pit of the mech's collarbone, turning his rapidly dimming optics dark in recharge. He spoke again without looking up. "Prowl, I'll tell you that this was an assault, and one that will leave lasting damage. Beyond that you don't need to know the specifics, and my order overrules yours when it comes to trying to get answers out of Ironhide. Is that understood?"

Prowl was still for a moment before giving a short nod. "Of course, but if that information should become significant for me to know, we shall revisit this debate." With that he turned on his heel and stalked out of the Medbay, though not before hearing the medic's closing remark.

"You can try." Ratchet touched a hand to Ironhide's elbow, getting his attention. "I'll keep him under until I'm finished, now, which should be tomorrow afternoon. You can't help for now."

Ironhide's optics were level on his. "Think you can? Beyond this, Ratch'," he added with a gesture of his hand.

Ratchet's mouth twitched in a grimace. "I'm not a counsellor, Ironhide, and I never claimed to be."

A rough snort. "You're the closest thing we've got unless the right Autobot comes crashing in."

"I'm out of my league," Ratchet replied simply, no embarrassment or frustration in the statement. "A forced spark merge I know how to deal with. Frag, Prime will have had the same information in his processor as a commander to spot the after-effects of it. But what Megatron did – the specifics of it, that's completely alien to me. To us as a species. It was a very human attack nailed onto the back of a long and violent history of them trying to offline each other, a history that only ended because he apparently submitted himself to this act."

"Not 'apparently'," Ironhide snapped. "Did - and he forced himself to for our sake."

"I'm not disputing the point of consent, here," Ratchet soothed with a raised hand. His shoulders sagged a little. "From a psychological standpoint I can't even begin to extrapolate how that will effect him, let alone how to treat it."

"It'd be a start if he'd admit that he's not 'okay'," he dark mech groused, folding his arms and regarded his unconscious sparkmate.

Ratchet nodded, watching Ironhide stare. "Yes, but it's very early days now. He'll recover at his own pace, though we'll both have to be vigilant in stopping him from writing off what's happened as unimportant. From trying to make us forget about it."

"Believe me," Ironhide replied with darkening optics, "I'm never going to forget this."