Quits
Chapter Seven
An engine dramatically more powerful than any that powered a normal rig had allowed Optimus to reach northern California by nightfall. Lassen Peak, a volcano active enough to be given a wide berth but quiet enough to be safe, had been at the top of the list of prospective sites for a permanent base when such a thing was being scouted for its energon-producing potential. It had been the first destination to occur upon leaving the Medbay, and the debacle that speaking to Prowl had quickly turned into.
His processor raced as the last miles tore past, the warm volcano rising into view.
They were both slow to ascend the rise after Soundwave had left, processors throbbing from the prickling strength of the electrical hack. Optimus could feel Ironhide's optics sliding to him every few seconds, burning with something that looked like pain.
It clicked quite suddenly in his mind that by grasping the hacking wires, Ironhide might have picked up the data being relayed. Even though the look on his sparkmate's face confirmed it, he still had to ask. As much as he didn't want to solidify the terrible truth.
"You saw it, didn't you? What Megatron did."
Ironhide nodded, just barely, and they both paused as he looked to Optimus to make the admission. "Yes."
Vents issuing a trembling sigh, Optimus touched a hand to the dark mech's arm. A simple gesture that conveyed everything that his vocal processor would not, his mouth a hard line behind the impenetrable faceplate. It's okay. I wish you hadn't seen that because I love you, and I know it hurts you. It hurts me too, but let's pretend it doesn't. Their bond trembled, quiet, both mechs keen not to transmit their own hurt and stack it on top of their partner's.
Ironhide's mouth opened in the start of an apology only to shut again slowly, optics turning downwards. He laid a hand over the one of his arm, thumbing the broad fingers. I had no right to see that, and I'm sorry. For everything. I wish I could just fix this for you, but I don't know how.
Millennia knowing each other and intimate upon every level for the last year, they didn't need vocal processors or audio receivers to understand each other. Optimus followed his outstretched arm, his hand shifting up to rest on Ironhide's shoulder, and pulled the mech into him. Foreheads touching, their vents mingled air with close familiarity and he withdrew the mask for the first time since the Nemesis. Ironhide looked up at the sound, seeming faintly surprised when the warm mouth touched his own but sighing into it. It was a chaste kiss, pure and uncluttered by passion or need. Only loaded with unspoken intent. Optimus thumbed the sharp plates of his partner's face. We'll work this out. I promise.
Ironhide nodded as if real words had been exchanged, reluctantly pulling back to look up the rise to where the Base sat on the other side. Doubtless Prowl would be in the yard, waiting for them to return and tell him how the meeting went. As if on cue, Optimus's finial chirped with an inquiring ping from the tactician. He quirked a brow to the taller mech, mouth twisting into a grim smile. Might as well get it over with.
Agreed. Optimus squeezed his shoulder before letting go, finally taking the first step back up the hill and hearing Ironhide follow a few moments later. Though it was unsaid, they both knew that the other would be silent until they saw Prowl and had to speak.
Optimus cringed on his axels again as a pothole sent a fresh spike of pain through his aching parts, engine groaning as he shifted into a lower gear for the climb up through the trees that had grown wide and strong from the volcano's ashes. Already he could feel the rhythm of the magma's energy beneath his wheels, still deep but closer to the surface here than anywhere else he'd been before.
When presenting this site to him, Ratchet had been tentatively excited about how easy it would be to produce real energon from the warm radiation of power seeping up through the ground, and how much better it would be for them than the polluted concoction they'd been living on derived from fossil fuels. That had been a year ago, and yet he'd never visited this place. There was always another Decepticon attack to repel, another portion of the human population in danger, another battle in their seemingly endless war that always took precedence over their need to build a more permanent home here on this planet.
He hadn't expected the site to be this beautiful, as rich visually as it was in passively-emitted power. It even took his thoughts from the mess he'd left behind at the base. Briefly.
As predicted, Prowl was waiting for them in the yard and fell into step with them as they entered the Base. "How did it go with Soundwave?"
"As straightforwardly as I'd have expected with him as a representative," Optimus replied smoothly. "Though he didn't specify who, he told us that there are four Decepticons who may request asylum to live on this planet but that everyone else, and their munitions, would be gone on the Nemesis in six days."
When they reached the junction in the corridor, he glanced to Ironhide and smiled at the quietly firm optics, obeying the silent command to go left towards the Medbay.
Prowl's optics scanned over both mechs, noting heat from their helms but no obvious bodily trauma. "Why are we seeing Ratchet?"
When Optimus didn't answer and looked to be trying to come up with a plausible excuse, Ironhide huffed an exasperated sound. "Soundwave hacked Optimus."
"Briefly," the tell mech added quickly.
The tactician's jaw fell slack, stunned by the senseless use of such an underhanded and invasive attack. "What in Primus for?"
This time Ironhide didn't speak, waiting Optimus out. He finally replied as they reached the doors to the Medbay. They opened automatically, and Ratchet approached them at the sound. "He… insisted on knowing what happened when Megatron and I negotiated the end to hostilities."
Prowl grunted a scoff, an alien sound from him. "That makes sense, given that I've had half a mind to do the same thing." When Optimus's optics hardened he folded his arms in a subtle sign of submission. "Are you okay?"
"Precisely what I'd like to know," Ratchet chimed in, arching a brow as he stood in the doorway.
"It was a violent hack," Ironhide grumbled in response to both, prodding Optimus in the back to nudge him into the Medbay before stepping inside himself.
Before either mech could say anything, Optimus held up his hands. His voice was firm as he regarded Ratchet, now trying to back him up to a berth with a scanner in one hand. "It was a short hack, the results of which were satisfying enough to Soundwave to swear that the Decepticons are leaving, and I'm suffering no ill effects from it now."
Ironhide's face twisted. "Yeah, like you're suffering no slagging 'ill effects' from the damn 'meeting' in the first place."
"'Hide…"
Ratchet didn't neglect the opportunity, gesturing with the scanner. "Ironhide's right, Prime, and if you'd just be willing to discuss what happened-"
"There is nothing to discuss," Optimus snapped back, regaining a few feet of space from the medic.
"Alright, that's enough," Prowl interjected loudly, optics narrowed as he strode fully into the room. "No more secrets, no more lies, and no more saying that whatever the Autobot commander gave up in the name of peace for the Autobots is unimportant. If it was enough to end the war, it was something worth having, and something of a loss to us."
Optimus's optics turned downcast and Ironhide was seething, giving Prowl the impression that he was on the right path. Ratchet simply shook his head, silently begging for the matter to be dropped.
Prowl looked between them again. "This has gone on long enough, and if you three won't tell me what's happened, I'll conduct my own investigation, and I'm not above hacking any of you if I believe the safety of the Base and the bots in it is under threat. I want to know what's going on, and I want to know right now."
The threat was a sound one. Once Prowl had put his mind to uncovering something, no force less than Primus himself could stop him in the long run. Ironhide exchanged a look with Ratchet, Prime folded his arms but didn't bring his stare from the floor, and Prowl waited five seconds for a response before moving to one of Ratchet's terminals. Two could play the hacking game to get answers.
The dirt road he'd been following came to an end and he transformed to walk the rest of the way up the mountain. His parts ached, reminding him of Ratchet's warning that he could expect ongoing discomfort for weeks to come until his parts healed and resettled. Reminding him of what had happened to bring about this pain.
Optimus got to the black and white mech first, ready to pull him bodily from the console. "Prowl, the specifics are none of your concern."
"As the mech in charge of the security of all personnel, it is my concern," Prowl snapped back, using his security clearance to digitally summon Ratchet's last scan of Optimus onto the screen. He saw it for all of three seconds before Prime' slamming hand turned the image dark.
Prowl didn't get it. Not immediately, anyway. Optimus didn't know that though, feeling as though his feet had been welded to the floor. He forced his voice to be steady. "Clearly, nothing of tactical value was given up to Megatron," he intoned quietly. "Prowl, drop this. I didn't want you or anyone else to know about this because I want it dropped. We are at peace now – finally. All sins are to be forgiven, including what Megatron did."
One hand in an armour-crushing fist, Ironhide pressed the other to his helm in an failed attempt to restrain his tone. "Slag it all, Optimus, forgiveness? He baited you out just to frag you and rub your nose in it. He deserves to be shot into the sun alive."
Prowl blinked, looking to the dark mech speechlessly. Optimus realised with a twist in his spark that the tactician hadn't worked it out from the screen, but that he got it now. "Prowl," he began slowly, raising placating hands to the smaller mech.
A hard burst of Cybertronian curses made him cringe. Prowl didn't swear often nor allow his faceplates to twist into such an arrangement of rage, now turned on Ironhide. "You allowed this?"
Ironhide moved as if he'd just been shot at and was keen to respond hand-to-hand. "Don't you dare, Prowl. Don't you slagging dare think that I condone this. I'd rather we were at war until we wiped out our species."
"Which is precisely what I did this to prevent," Optimus bellowed with a hard gesture to his sparkmate, systems burning.
"You had no right to do such a thing, Prime." Prowl's optics were wide behind the visor as he looked up to the seething mech. "Ironhide's correct, and all of us would have supported him if they'd known the alternative. We'd have stopped you."
"Optimus," Ratchet warned softly, moving slowly into the tense triangle the three mechs had made. This was getting dangerously out of hand. "He's just concerned."
Optimus didn't register him, wholly focussed on the tactician. "'No right'? As Prime, as your –commander- I have every right to do anything I consider reasonable to end a conflict without –anyone- questioning my actions."
"Reasonable?" Prowl spat back, shoulder twisting up battle-ready as the damage results from the console flashed across his processor again. Spark exposed and touched by the enemy's hands. Parts wrenched asunder, sawn apart over and over, the protrusion driving deep into his body. Prime's body. The vessel of the Matrix. The walking symbol of Primus, defiled in the worst way. And Optimus defended his decision to allow it. "You see rape in exchange for peace as reasonable?"
Ratchet's medical sensors detected the subtle changes in the tall mech's body. "Prowl-"
"Don't you dare defend it!" Prowl growled, turning on him before looking back to Optimus, oblivious to the tremor. "You are no whore, Optimus. You should have led us to blow him apart for even suggesting as such, not let him frag you like a-"
An echo from metal striking metal hard enough to completely misshape it resounded through the room, leaving Ratchet staring dumbly at the unconscious mech on the floor. Ironhide regained his composure instantly, holding up a hand as Optimus moved past him for the door, shaking the ache in his hand off. "Optimus, please-"
"Don't," Optimus replied, pausing before the doorway and turning to regard the bulky mech, optics dark. "You've not left me to myself since the Nemesis, not trusted me to my own thoughts. I ask you to now." He looked to Ratchet, now kneeling over Prowl and grimacing at the mess the unrestrained punch had made of the mech's helm. "Ratchet, see to it this doesn't happen again. Too much detail exists in too many minds now without being recorded on your computers as well. Wipe the files, and see to it that Prowl is well. Pass on my apologies."
Ironhide took only a half step to follow but stilled himself, spark shaking with the effort. If Optimus wanted space, he should have it. "Where will you go?"
"I don't know," Optimus replied flatly, but sent a pulse of reassurance down the bond. "But I'll return by nightfall tomorrow."
The doors slammed shut and Prime's footfalls turned silent as he retreated away from the Medbay, and away from the Base. Stuck as to what to do, Ironhide settled to stand over Ratchet as he began unfastening the warped panels to beat them back into shape. "Prowl deserved that. Pit, I wanted to hit him."
Ratchet made a low sound, optics flickering up to the closed doors. "He made a good point, though, and it's gotten him thinking outside of trying to convince us he's unaffected."
Ironhide grunted, folding his arms. "It's got him hurting."
A grim smile. "A necessary part of healing. Do as he bids, 'Hide, as hard as that is. Right now he needs to figure a few things out for himself before we can do anything else to help."
The trees thinned out near the top of the rise, the bare earth now warm to his sensors beneath his feet as he stopped to look out across the landscape. If they did all decide to stay, and the American government permitted it, they would build a home here. It was beautiful, warm with energy and peaceful. Doubtless Wheeljack could stabilise the volcano to put off another eruption for centuries – they'd had that technology since the Cybertronians had set about stabilizing and converting Cybertron's geology to their needs.
Speculations about a home away from NEST were not what he'd come here for, though. As much as Prowl's tirade had rattled him, it had gotten him thinking. Made him finally accept that he was far from at peace with maelstrom he'd just tried to partition off in his processor. He'd truly believed that knowing their species was finally at peace would be rewarding enough to quiet his spark's own pain, but he'd been wrong.
The solution was not so simple, because the pain wasn't so simple. Mingled within each other were feelings he understood, could rationalise, and many that he could not. He sat, resting his elbows on his knees as his hands went to his optics.
There was guilt for baring his spark to anyone aside from Ironhide, and greater guilt that he could not bring himself to touch his sparkmate to comfort them both because his processor flickered back to Megatron's hands on his body.
Shame that he'd submitted intimately on his enemy's berth, and greater shame that he'd wanted to stop it despite knowing that it would have invalidated the peace agreement they'd just made.
Fear that he could never pay such a high price again if it were needed.
Sickly confusion that he'd been physically penetrated in a symbol of human sex. Delineated as female, submissive, and then sexually used.
Anger at himself for being perturbed that Megatron hadn't wanted a sparkmerge – that he had not sought his own overload. That the Decepticon had only wanted to puppet him towards his own climax and to watch him overload beneath him.
Disappointment that he couldn't see past an hour of discomfort to what had been achieved.
Self-loathing that he'd deeply resented the Autobots for 3.7 seconds for going through with it for them.
Something black and indefinable twisting around his spark that he had, in fact, been fucked like a fleshling whore.
A hard crunch close to him. As Optimus mentally pulled back, his proximity sensors that had been blaring warnings at him were suddenly heard. He looked up Starscream's shadow across the ground and his thick body rising up from its feet. The Seeker cocked his head, one hand bearing a pile of rocks at his side and the other extended to direct his null ray at the Autobot's face.
His mouth quirked. "If an Autobot gets offlined in the woods and no one's around to see it, is the treaty still void?"