It was dark, the silence etching quietly across the halls, and though Sam loathed to admit it, he had come to acknowledge those halls as home. He recognized the tiled flooring and the sheen that swirled along the glass windows as the sun peaked each sol. He knew every detail of every hour, of every vorn of that building from the inside out, even more so than the house he had grown up in, his own tiny dorm room, and the military base at which he resided in after the first hints of war sprung up and Sam no longer had a home to return to.
He feared the knowledge that he had now lived on Cybertron longer than he had on Earth.
Silence made Sam's human mind think even as the mind of Ante Finem died down into a stony silence, and Sam embraced those moments when his humanity seemed to win out over the robotic mechanics that now made up his body.
Indeed, he was now thinking, mulling over the facts that he had just bartered.
Orion Pax had admitted to many wrongdoings and, despite Sam's reassurance, remained hesitant to confide in the other. The taller mech had, at one point beyond Sam's knowledge, snuck into one of the main computer systems that was still under reconstruction (Teletraan was it?) after having discovered a new signal that he had suspiciously found under heavy lock and subscription, and after decoding the message, had come across Megatron, a mind so deep and, at the time, wise had completely altered Orion's vision of the government. The two had then conversed illegally using the new computer to keep under the radar of the Council due to the new techs lack of productivity and thus currently being shut down for later use. Their treason a secret to the world. A secret held between them.
But Sam now knew, and the knowledge itself crippled him.
The revelation had made Sam pause and reconsider how much of Orion Pax he really knew.
Orion remained silent, servos wrung silently as he watched Sam nervously before flitting away. Optics averting the other and watching the heavy stillness of the empty halls. Their usual place in the dark of night because it had become their norm, a distant comfort that remained between them despite all the secrets that buried its way between their bond.
Sam wanted to berate Orion for being so trusting, yet the other already seemed to have realized the false nature of Megatron, the brutality of others. The sound of sirens still wailing through the lunar cycle despite the crowd having long been dispersed. The security having rounded the group in a grotesque manner of violence displayed for the whole world to see. Sam had no doubt it was Megatron's choosing, his will to show Cybertron the truths of the government that bound their freedoms and their future. But regardless, it was a truly despicable way of showing it.
"I apologize," Orion spoke softly as if the brutality of the day had drained his voice from within. Sam said nothing for he understood. He held secrets that weighed upon the spark in a tangible, solidified feeling that despite its burden was impossible to remove, mentally encrypted upon the mind. Instead of answering, Sam merely gave a slight shrug before asking, "Why?"
But it was a foolish question because he knew why, and Orion merely reopened the connection through their bond for Sam to understand. It was the need for freedom, the need for justice, peace, and every other righteous embodiment that made Orion Pax him. It was the single quest to help lead by misjudgment. "You fool," Sam whispered harshly though the tone was filled with little hate or disappointment.
Regardless, Orion flinched. "I apologize," he repeated much to Sam's annoyance causing Sam to slowly get up from his comfortable position on the bench, scoot closer to the other, before smacking Orion clear across the back of his helm with such surprising force that the taller bot had been jerked downward through the motion. Orion's optics lighted in startled amazement at the sheer strength behind Sam's attack though the pain was little more than a slight ache. (Sam would later grudgingly admit that he should have hit Orion harder.)
"Well, now you know," Sam continued despite Orion's shocked face staring back at him in amazement and perhaps a slight bit of amusement. "This is why you fight."
Orion's face then morphed into confusion. "Fight? That riot … it was a massacre! How could fighting possibly solve anything?" he spoke in startled horror confined within the presence of his voice as he struggled for words to describe his dismay. His voice so thick and saturated with utter befuddlement that Sam could literally feel the intensity of the other's words as if they were tangible, somehow floating between the two in the thick silence of the atmosphere. Orion was now standing in his shock, looking down at his companion which caused Sam to also stand in some odd habit to compensate for the massive height difference.
And suddenly Sam was livid.
"Orion Pax, you listen to me. You fight for dreams, for the innocent, for justice, for the sheer need of violence that seems to solve things better than words. You fight out of love, out of hate, misery, and for the mystery of fates. You fight for the truth, for the future, for the world, for the whole damn universe, you fight to protect. So never tell me that fighting doesn't solve anything!"
Sam had to bite his lower lip, an action that seemed oddly human, to prevent from crying out in anger and to prevent himself from spewing out any more words of frustration at the other because it was clearly not Orion's fault. Orion had yet to know that Sam's life was nothing but fighting. That was the meaning of his existence, it was the meaning of Bumblebee's life too as the other, born into the heart of war, knew nothing else but the experience of killing. It was Will's job that he took with pride, to fight and protect his wife and daughter whom Sam never got to meet as they too succumbed to death well before their time. It was Epps's glory that proved the man's heart of solid gold. Sam's family (which was filled with soldiers, bots, and every friend who ever helped him in the heat of battle) lived in war, met because of it, and died for a purpose, a reason. They fought to live.
"It's true, fighting is violence in its purest form, but sometimes its your only option," Sam vented angrily, the bitter hate of memory consuming him. "Today, when you watched that riot, if there was ever a sliver of doubt, then know that is your reason to fight. Fight for a future that you can look upon with no doubts, no hesitations, only then is there no more reason to fight."
Sam knew it was unfair to ask this of Orion, to ask it of anyone. He alone knew that pain greater than any other. The need to save the universe, having the weight of the whole world bare upon one's shoulders, and to be the only one to remember, to know, was the worst. It was a burden Sam never wanted to share with anyone. Not even those government idiots with their fancy badges and briefs, though Sam had no doubt that they would screw up the world splendidly. But Orion did not deserve that weight, the paranoia, the fear, the pain, the loss, and worse, knowing that the lives of those you loved sat literally in the palm of your hand. Though Opitmus Prime had a large servo that was filled with thousand of sparks and lives in his mere pinky alone, millions more standing delicately in his palm.
Yet, it was fate that designed their cruel story and Sam was left with no choice but to watch and whisper out a meager apology.
He awaited with a bated breath for Orion's rebuttal, his anger, because Sam knew the bot's spark was laced with peace and a sense of romanticized duty that outweighed the embellishments of war, yet the rebuttal never came. Instead it was doubt that met Sam's rambling.
"What future is there to create?" Orion asked quietly in the hushed silence of the hall. His helm turned downward and suddenly he appeared very small and timid. "What if one side is no better than the other?"
Sam had paused in confusion before being struck with realization. He knew little of Opitmus Prime's past, but he knew Orion. Orion Pax had consulted his findings with one who held similar beliefs and Megatron had taken full advantage of Orion's naivety to warp his mind into what was perceived as right and wrong.
Orion had been so confident, so delusional and swayed by Megatron's ways, yet now here he was, once again struggling on his own because the truth had spilled. The path that had once seemed so obviously bright was now clouded with doubt, and the other path, the one that pooled with sins seemed, now, even worse.
Sam then spoke in patronizing amusement. "Then carve your own path," he said confidently as if it was obvious (though really it was). Yet, sometimes Sam forgot that Orion, like all members of Cybertron, were trained from the moment of their creation to pertain a bee-like devotion towards the government with undoubted loyalty and were thus unused to the idea of thinking for themselves.
"If there isn't an obvious answer that you can invest your futures in, then make one."
Orion watched Sam carefully, optics curious yet shrouded with doubt and fear. "And if I were to fail this?"
"Don't worry, I'll be there to give you a second chance, however many times it takes," (just don't make it a habit) Sam spoke confidently because it was true, no matter how much Sam wished it wasn't.
Orion nodded his head slightly, yet his optics remained downcast and his servos continued to shake nervously. The fear coursing through his systems somehow finding its way across the bond where Sam tried his best to ward off the apprehension.
Deciding the other needed an added booster, Sam reached up to grab Orion's helm (really he did this more times than he would have thought necessary) before forcing the said bot to look at him directly.
"Orion Pax, you will always have my support, even if the world hated you and the universe became your enemy, I will still stand right here." Because in the end, all the help Orion had given Sam could never be repaid. Not for a million Earth years, not for a thousand Cybertronian vorns, not even for an eternity of lifetimes.
Orion's expression changed from one of relief to a renewed hope that alleviated Sam's own pain. That was until Orion's face once again morphed into that of deep consideration, a pondering that Sam had come to recognize as some further insight and wisdom beyond his knowledge.
"What about Megatron?" Orion asked, clear hope in his voice that if he was able to see the errors of Megatron's way then surely Megatron himself would also understand, yet Sam's grave expression dashed his hopes before it could even begin.
For a sheer nano-second, Sam had thought back to his conversation with the mentioned bot, one last failed attempt at saving Cybertron, before speaking in a hushed tone, "I fear it is too late to save him."