Drabble #29: Comforting Prime

By: Ceris Malfoy

Summary: "Tell me Orion, why are there two of us?"

Inspiration: The second part of Protecting Prime. Was originally supposed to be one of the many teaching sessions between Starscream and Orion Pax/Optimus Prime, but the both of them had other ideas. XD

Continuity: AU!G1

Disclaimer: Not mine.


"You are almost ready to take on the full mantle of your position, Orion. How do you feel?"

Orion turned at the sound of his Protector, offering him what no-doubt was an extremely queasy-looking smile. "Nervous," he replied. "But …" He places a hand against his chassis, feeling the warm pulsing of his spark and the gentle throbbing of the Matrix contained within. It had taken him a long time to get used to the twin spark-pulses, even longer to feel them without flashing back to the night he had been stolen from his home, the night that started this whole adventure. His god was pleased with him, he knew. "I feel settled."

Starscream nodded. "Content, yes?"

"Yes."

The seeker walked over to the windows Orion stood before, looking out at the thriving city-state that was Cybertron's capital, Iacon. It was a breathtaking view on the worst of days, and today it practically radiated with the joy of its citizens. While the Lord High Protector was respected – read 'feared' – the Prime was loved. Orion had yet to be fully introduced to the people he would be leading, but the reporters even now waited in the hall below, ready for his first interview.

Starscream looked at the view, but gave no indication that it amazed him in any way. Starscream was often life that, Orion had noted. He put on a great show of normality, but Orion suspected that Starscream had been Chosen by Unicron because he was as close as one could get to being a sociopath without losing some intrinsic understanding of emotions.

"You have learnt well, Orion," Starscream finally said, voice bland. "You have devoted yourself to the lessons I taught, and have applied yourself well to learning things I could not teach." Starscream smiled at him, gently, but there was little warmth in his optics. Orion didn't let it bother him. It was enough that Starscream thought him important enough to try. "There is but one more lesson yet for you to learn, and it your most important one. No matter what happens, no matter what may come, I promise you that if you remember this you will be one of the best Primes to have ever lived."

Orion straightened, and waited. Ever since Starscream had made good on his promise to the council, Orion had learned well and good that Starscream never made promises unless he could keep them. The Senate had doubted him, had pushed when Starscream had tried to let peace exist between them, and they had paid for their foolishness. Consequently, it also drove home the point that Starscream had been trying to tell him over and over: they were no longer mere mechs. They were the Chosen of their respective gods, and as long as their gods were happy, they were in a league untouchable by others. He will never forget the sight of Starscream stalking down the halls of the Sacred Spires, the power of Unicron's fury covering him in a thick miasma that absorbed anything that hit it – from data pads to laser fire. There were only three survivors of that purge, all three older mechs bordering on the edges of ancient, each who surrendered the second they saw the seeker stalking down the halls, leaving dead – and worse – in his wake.

Since then, Starscream had been handling the day-to-day running of Cybertron pretty much single-handedly, with Orion following him eagerly, learning from both Starscream's many lectures and from hands-on experience (once Starscream thought him capable enough). He had been given more and more responsibilities over the past couple of vorns, and now he was finally ready to step out on his own and take up the mantle of Prime.

"Why are there two, Orion?" Starscream asked him.

The question startled him, made his thought processes halt for a second before struggling to comprehend his mentor and friend's question.

His confusion must of shown on his face, because Starscream clarified, "Why not just a Prime, or just a Protector? When you get right down into the thick of things, why are there two of us? All Cybertronians are equally children of Unicron and Primus; maybe once upon a time there would have been a need for such a distinction, but why now?"

"Tradition?" he guessed.

Starscream snorted. "They are gods, Orion. If they so choose, they could wipe us out and start anew." He shook his helm. "No, they have no need of tradition. Furthermore, Unicron is Chaos personified, he of all beings would abhor the senseless practice known as 'tradition'. So really, why? Why two?"

Orion thought, carefully this time. There was a strange weight to the air around them, and he was experienced enough now to know that one or both gods were taking a personal interest in this conversation. He had a feeling that his answer would make or break him. Regardless of that, it was a good question. Starscream had nurtured in the un-educated mechling he used to be an avid desire to know, igniting a fierce passion for history and a taste for philosophical and ethical debates. Starscream liked to indulge him in his interests, and so Orion chose to treat this as just another informal debate between them, choosing to ignore the attention of the gods.

"I suppose," he started slowly, "that it has to do with the natures of the gods and their respective powers. You told me once that we are both equal and opposite in all things as Chosen; that were as I wield defensive energies, yours are offensive in nature, where I am an empath, you are a projector, etc., etc."

"Hmmm," Starscream hummed noncommittally. "That is part of it, yes," he allowed. "We are the central figures in our society, Orion, yet we are also marginal, separated from others by the extraordinary nature of our powers and our personalities. Even if at the end of the day we are still just mechs, children of Unicron and Primus both; even if we are still students, artists, workers; even if we are still normal in every respect but that one – we still retain that constant awareness of the god who calls to us. Our abilities, our knowledge, our powers and strength of will are often opposed in pairs and expressed simultaneously: both healer and destructor, mortal and divine, cultured and primal. We move through and exist outside of all classes and frame-types. We are of them, and not of them, and this will never seem as apparent as the first time you go to have a conversation with another mech and realize that you are intrinsically different from them, that you seem somehow removed from their sphere of consciousness." Starscream smiled somewhat bitterly. "So tell me, Orion, why are there two of us?"

"I don't know," he admitted quietly.

Starscream nodded, as if expecting this answer. "Orion, no, Optimus Prime, there are two of us because neither god is cruel by nature or stupid by design. To have but one mech so separated by the very society that he is supposed to govern is asking for trouble, especially when one considers that just because they exist in relative peace does not mean that either typically gets along." Starscream's tone took on a lecturing note. "They argue about almost everything, and part of the reason we exist is to navigate through their disagreements until we find a compromise that suits both gods. But more to the point, there are two of us because no mech should have to be that isolated. I want you to remember this above all things, Optimus Prime: no matter what may come, there will always be one who understands what you are going through, what you will have to do, and what your god will demand of you. No matter how it feels at times, remember, you are never alone."

Orion smiled, the nervousness in his spark fading as if it had never been. He felt truly content for the first time in many years. "Thank you, Starscream." For more than just soothing him, he wanted to say. For protecting him all those vorns ago, for teaching him to the best of his abilities, for nurturing in him a love of Cybertron and its peoples that his attack had stolen from him. For everything. The heavy feeling in the air was dissipating, and deep within his spark, he felt the gentle approval of Primus.

Starscream nodded once in acknowledgement. "Shall we go?" he asked, gesturing to the hall where the press was waiting to be introduced to their finally full-fledged Prime.

Optimus Prime cycled air for a brief moment, then nodded. "Yes," he said. "Let's go."

And if during the conference he reached out and grasped Starscream's hand, and if Starscream allowed him to do so with nothing more than a brief smile that never quite reached his optics and a gentle squeeze, well. That was no one's business but theirs.


I have a lot of feels about this verse, and a lot of thoughts about it as well. I just don't know how to piece it all together into a coherent whole. So, until I can figure that out, I'll just upload pieces here and get some reader responses. 'Cause it definitely needs some.