Title: Indivisible, Part One

Characters: Optimus, Sideswipe

Universe: Bayverse, pre-films

Rating: T

Warnings: canon-typical violence, background character death

Description: Love does not preclude hate, nor does it presume loyalty.


Once upon a time, Sideswipe had been a twin. He had shared his spark and functioning with another mech. He was never alone.

He loved his twin inasmuch as he understood love. Though sometimes he hated his other half, too.

Love, Sideswipe discovered, did not preclude hate.

Once upon a time, Optimus Prime had a brother, a twin in everything but station. A mech with half his spark with whom he shared rulership and all else that mattered.

Love, Optimus had also learned, did not presume loyalty.

There they were, two abandoned mechs on the edge of a rusty battlefield, staring across hordes of fallen frames, littered over an energon-soaked expanse. Ash and spent ions clung in a dense cloud to the sparse atmosphere.

Sideswipe had energon on taloned hands, dripping down his chestplate, coating the streaks of gold glaringly obvious on the once-glittering silver of his paint.

Optimus' hands were clean, at least of visible stains. His optics tracked the retreating backplate of a warmonger. His frame remembered the fierce beating he had absorbed until a retreat was called or victory assumed.

No one, in truth, had won here.

Again, Optimus realized. Time and again he would face the consequences of his own weakness. He would suffer for the spark he could not bear to take.

Cybertron would suffer. Her people would suffer.

Because until now Optimus had not understood the cost of love. He hadn't understood how it could cut so deep, pollute from the inside out, and disturb the natural state.

Sideswipe did.

Optimus turned his gaze on the silver warrior, energon dripping the last spare drops from his hands, limp at his sides.

Sideswipe had the courage to do what he must. He had looked into the optics of his other half and hadn't faltered. He had not let his weakness rule him.

Optimus must learn from his example. He would not be able to win this war if he could not. Cybertron must be protected, and her people, too.

The unbreakable bonds must be shattered, no matter the cost.

The scientist within him was of no use here and must be cast aside. Optimus Prime as he knew himself would be abandoned as well. He must become the warrior Cybertron needed. And he must prepare himself for the next confrontation.

The outcome must not be allowed to repeat itself.

"Never again," Optimus said, his soft proclamation too loud in the after-battle silence.

Sideswipe looked up at him as Optimus lay a hand on his shoulder, over a deep gash in thick armor, metal scorched and jagged. The final, desperate blow of a mech whose spark was guttering.

"I will not falter again," Optimus clarified. "I will bring him down. I will end this."

It was a promise. To himself and to Cybertron and to the Autobots who gathered under his banner.

Sideswipe's helm dipped in understanding, field barely lit at the edges with approval.

"It won't be easy," he murmured, one hand rising to touch the score across his chestplate, flecks of gold interspersed.

Optimus cycled a ventilation, his optics shifting back to the battlefield. "Few things are."