A/N: Alright, just a quickie update, I'm sorry! Finals are coming! I promise the next chapter will be exciting...Galvatron awakens in Bogota sounds like a nice direction.
Forty-One
…
The quietness between he and Mira was deafening, until she'd fallen asleep; exhaustion rolling through her ocean-blue eyes and across her features. That quietness had rendered Optimus Prime into a meditative and reflective state, one that was deep and concentrated. They'd been in the air for mere hours, but it felt like an eternity had gone by. The cockpit was loud and overwhelmed with life and laughter as Merrick asked plentiful questions of his peers, the weathered and exhausted soldiers. Optimus listened and was pleased—if not a bit concerned—that his men took delight in answering the questions eagerly—especially Drift.
He'd stayed outside the cockpit, in the corridor with Mira. She'd ended the phone call with Elaina, a call Optimus wish she would not have made. He did not need any more souls in this war he'd created—he couldn't be responsible for any more deaths in Mira's life. Anger pitted itself in the bottom of his fueling chamber—he felt the Energon coursing through his veins heat with bitterness, rolling into a ever-boiling pot of hatred, disgust, and rage. He stood beside her sleeping form, uncrossed his arms, and let his head fall back against the corridor wall, with a resounding thump before silence overtook the air again. Optimus Prime released a breath and closed his optics a moment, welcoming darkness.
He ached. The only other times he'd felt such pain and grief was when he and his troops had left Cybertron after the Allspark; the other when he'd left Mira standing in an open field that June day. He realized now that ache had been the pain of separation from something he'd loved dearly; the pain of leaving behind part of himself. Optimus rolled his head to glanced down at her sleeping form. Her knees were brought up as close to her chest as they would come, and her head was leaning against the wall, eyes closed. She breathed rhythmically, like music; peaceful and serene music.
Optimus couldn't imagine leaving her again. He knew he had too—this war was getting far too out of hand far too quickly. Once he'd procured that Seed he'd have to take it from Earth and hide it, get it away from here and draw Galvatron and Lockdown from Earth. It was the only way to keep her—his home—safe. Grief erupted in his sparkchamber at the thought.
Why must I leave every place I call home? He thought. He'd started off as just a librarian—as just a researcher...
Or had he? He wasn't sure what he was anymore—a Prime, or a librarian, or an explorer. It had crossed his thoughts that Lockdown had been exaggerating about the Creators and how they had built him—he had memories from his past. Memories of growing up in the streets, going to the Academy, learning beneath Alpha Trion. He remembered education classes and choosing his first alteration mode with Ratchet. He remembered Ironhide and Chromia taking him in and practically raising him. All of this could not have been implanted in him; could not have been formulated or programmed—they were real events. It was like he could reach out and touch those memories, they were just like yesterday in the eons ago that they had happened—no, they couldn't have been...
...if they had been just programmed data into his memories, then he was a lie. And a lie was something he was not, because he was Optimus Prime. He had been Orion Pax, he had been a librarian in the Hall of Records. He'd stood before the High Council and received his calling just as all the other Prime's had. Lockdown had been lying, or was misinformed. Well, he was going to straighten that out, and he'd start with ripping the very spark out of that being—if one could even refer to Lockdown as a being.
Warm Energon, he realized, had been running down his faceplates. He reached up and touched it with his hands and realized he'd been weeping. Perhaps not loud enough since no one bothered him. He heard Merrick's boyish laughter and cracked a smile and let out a quiet chuckle—how he loved that boy. He then looked down to Mira and released a breath. Slowly he lowered himself to the floor and sat beside her, feeling so massive and overruling—she was so small and delicate. It briefly crossed his thoughts of how she'd survive his war, this fighting. She should have died long ago, so many times over.
He leaned his head back again against the wall, watching her. Taking a gentle finger, he touched one of her fallen curls by her cheek. She had so much to learn for such a great calling. He regretted that she would not be able to fulfill that calling, there would be no reason to. He would not be here to teach her the ways of a Countess—yes, the ways of a Countess were many and trying, but she had spirit and he had confidence in her. It crossed his mind that he'd made a mistake, now he'd never have a Count or Countess by his side to advise him, for the opportunity came once in a Prime's life. He'd given that opportunity to her he hadn't even told her what she was—she was a Keeper; for now, but a Countess by rights. That thought was quickly swept away when he remembered her heroics, her charm, her courage.
He cursed Attinger and Cemetery Wind for this. He cursed Joshua Joyce—how his hatred seethed towards them for daring to play God, to create the unthinkable; to resurrect the dead. They had wrought destruction on themselves. He wondered if Megatron's—Galvatron's-hatred would cool towards this planet and if he would follow the Seed from Earth, or if his hatred and revenge towards this place would keep him here. It had kept Megatron in Kaon during the Great Wars.
She shifted suddenly, but did not awaken. Instead, he heard footsteps, and looked towards the entry to the cockpit. He found Bryce there, leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets. How grateful Optimus was towards this man, who had worked so diligently with him for such a cause only to see it burned to the ground in a heaping pile of steaming ashes. Bryce nodded to Mira, "She's exhausted."
"I know." He replied quietly. "Much has happened."
Bryce chuckled, "Yeah. You don't think it'll stop, do you?" He was entirely serious and the question struck the air like lightning. It rendered Optimus silent for a few brief moments before he could answer. He looked to Bryce and sighed.
"I'm afraid as long as humans are on Earth that Galvatron will carry a vendetta against this planet. I am beginning to wonder if he will ever leave you alone."
"Probably not," Bryce shrugged a shoulder, "But we're a pretty resilient race. We could use some extra muscle though," Optimus got the hint, "All the more reason for you guys to stay."
"I fear the Creators concern me more than Galvatron does," Optimus said quickly. Bryce wrinkled his brow, and Optimus wondered if he'd said the wrong thing. By the look that flashed through Bryce's eyes, he knew he had—somehow.
"Don't worry about what's coming, worry about what's already here, Prime," he pushed himself off the wall and popped a piece of gum into his mouth from his pocket, replacing the package and sticking his hands back into his pockets, "Right now we have to get the Seed and somehow stop Galvatron—the Creators or whoever they are aren't here right now. They come in later, we'll just assume that," he shrugged off his jacket and draped it around Mira's shoulders, and smiled at her sleeping form, "She can't do this alone."
"She doesn't have to."
Bryce shot him a look, "Right now, no." He stood to full height, "But when you guys leave? Like you said, if Galvatron won't get over his hatred of us, is he going to leave? What happens if he doesn't, and you guys are gone—what's going to happen to her?" He gestured to his sister, "To Merrick? What about us, Optimus? I'll tell you what will happen—Galvatron will mull us over, and he'll destroy this place just like he did your home. Then you'll be out two planets."
Optimus was silent. He considered the man's words—could he chance that? Could he just push the Creators and Lockdown to them back of his mind and forget them without worrying, or it driving him insane with concern? Then there was his seething hatred towards Cemetery Wind; would he ever be able to trust the human government again? Humans other than Mira's family and Cade's?
"Bryce," He began, "As much as I would entertain the notion of staying I do not know how it would work with your government. They do not want relations with Autobots—they have chosen to fight this war themselves. How more of my men—my family—has to die?"
Bryce was quiet a moment before he asked dangerously, "I don't know, Optimus; how many more do?" Optimus was about to answer when he remained quiet. Bryce shook his head and sighed, realizing he'd rendered him silent with such a profound statement. He headed towards the cockpit again and stopped, turned to Optimus and stated, "Hound said we'll be landing at Laney's coordinates in an hour. Joyce is already there."
Optimus nodded, "Our first objective is confronting Joyce and getting that Seed into Autobot hands," Bryce nodded at this and looked down, "And your thoughts?"
"Cade and I were tossing up the idea of getting Tessa and Merrick out of here," he sighed, "This isn't good for them. They're just kids—they shouldn't get caught in the crossfire." He scratched the stubble forming on his jaw, "I was thinking Bumblebee and I would take them to the KSI branch and see if we can't figure out how to shut down those prototypes—since they didn't seem to be possessed or corrupted."
Optimus gave a firm nod, "A valid argument. I would say go for it, but I am not sure how Mira would feel about the idea," he looked down at her sleeping form, still breathing softly, "I will ask her when we land."
Bryce nodded, "Sounds good." He turned on his heel. "We'll see you when we land then. I'd better make sure Hound has an idea of what he's going and that he doesn't blow us to bits."
Optimus chuckled lightly, "Not unlikely."
Bryce cracked a smile, "I figured." He stuck his hands back into his pockets and entered the cockpit again.
